At the age of 19, I discovered meatloaf is not supposed to be gray.
Recently, I visited with a newspaper friend in Florida who has the audacity to turn his business on its ear.
Strolling down a quiet street in East Texas, a small white window sign catches my eye.
I joke that 35 years ago this weekend, my future best friend said, “I do.” She probably didn’t know what she was getting into. The truth is neither of us did.
You cannot buy a glass of freshly brewed sweet tea in the Texas State Capitol building.
I miserably failed high school English literature. Reading Shakespeare felt like picking through a pot of ham and beans, looking for something of substance to eat.
For Valentine’s Day, my wife and I are going to bake a homemade pizza. And to be truthful, we do not know how this will work out. But the tradition of a low-key Valentine’s Day is alive and well in our home.
No two children are alike. Ask any parent.
I generally check a box with little help. Insert the pen tip into a tiny space and either check or fill in the appropriate word.
My father’s legacy is a roll of silver duct tape.
I met Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. in a small, wooden sunroom off the side of our home in a small Mississippi town.
Cancer took another good one from me this week.
This time next week will be the new year. So the question is, what do you want to leave behind?
Did you ever think of how little each of us would have if we only had what we needed?
I’ve figured out what Santa Claus does the other 11 months of the year: he is Batman.
Working as a waiter or waitress is always challenging. Long hours on your feet, managing different personalities from the kitchen to the customer, and a pressure cooker timeline of performance to keep everyone happy.
According to my wife, I am now officially eccentric.
I am grateful I am not a turkey this week. Plus, I would look silly with those little white booties on my feet. The good tan, however, I could learn to like.
If I were an automobile, I might get maintenance notices from the factory reminding me to have my timing belt replaced or to check the belts up front. And with all that accumulated “mileage” inside of me comes a bit of learned wisdom.
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