Have you ever smelled a dead whale?
I was walking through a gigantic American airport last week when I happened upon a plaque which stirred a memory of two stories from long ago. A bit of research on the Internet -- gosh, it's easy to find out things these days -- turned up the information below.
A recent study released by a Washington think tank says school is too easy for most kids in the United States, failing to challenge them and leaving them bored.
You can observe a lot just by watching, Yogi Berra once said, and I've been doing some observing lately.
"Early to bed and early to rise," said Benjamin Franklin, "makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise."
Ralph, who runs a roadside nursery business on the Maine island where Nancy and I spend time, is a conspiracy theorist of the first order.
You might have seen the segment on TV recently that spotlighted a guy who had virtually no musical talent, then dived one day into the shallow end of a pool and suffered a severe head injury, and days later sat down at a piano and played it like a virtuoso.
Being queen is a heck of a job.
Technology is bringing the magic of nature -- specifically, the majesty of America's symbol, the bald eagle -- into our living rooms.
My friend had been having a bad day, starting with absent-mindedly putting a tin of Altoids mints in his pocket before going through the metal detector at the airport. That had set the infernal machine screaming, which led to suspicion, which led to officers confiscating the little round silver flask he had in his carry-on bag.
The students over at the University of South Carolina are raising cain because they don't like the graduation speaker who's been chosen to deliver the commencement address later this month.
Random thoughts on a spring afternoon:
Camden native Ford Graham, who's going to live in Germany as head of South Carolina's European industrial recruitment efforts, says he's going to convert natives of that country to boiled peanuts.
Let's talk about dogs.
Back in the days before binding caucuses and every-other-day primaries, political conventions were fascinating.
On the Maine island where Wife Nancy and I spend time, Church of Our Father sits nestled among the hills near a small harbor called Hulls Cove.
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