What do lawyers, a community newspaper, Ocean Drive Beach, a corrupt South Carolina state senator and Jerry Lee Lewis have in common?
Many years ago, I adopted the "wait till the next day" philosophy regarding letters I wrote to people which were penned in -- how shall we put this? -- the heat of battle.
In an age dominated by political enmity, bile and vitriol -- how's that for a hateful trio? -- the story of the friendship of former presidents George H. W. Bush and Bill Clinton gives us all a measure of hope that we can get past the ill feelings that so dominate our political landscape.
Just a couple days ago I was discussing the greatest inventions of mankind with my lunch bunch.
Many years ago, when I was a fresh-faced, full-of-spit-and-vinegar young reporter, I wrote a story indicating that a local church had hired a new minister.
You're no doubt aware that Pope Benedict XVI has announced his upcoming resignation, becoming the first pontiff to step down in 598 years.
The United States is facing grave situations both home and abroad that threaten the very survival of our country as we know it.
I'm not much of a baseball fan, but I miss the days when I was -- a few decades ago, when the sport was indeed the national pastime and was the primary topic of conversation whenever boys of any age -- from 7 to 70 -- got together.
A couple weeks ago we talked about the Internet and the opportunities it's opened for everyone around the globe.
Few things are as juicy as a high-profile trial involving wealthy celebrities, millions of dollars and accusations of dastardly deeds.
It doesn't take a genius -- or even a dim-witted newspaper columnist -- to know that the practice of communicating in 2013 is nothing like it was a decade ago.
Holiday tips for amazing home remedies:
Every six or eight years I relate to you a Christmas story first told to me by Max Ford. Here goes:
I'm going to let you in on a little secret, but you've got to promise not to tell anyone. Do I have your word you're going to keep this absolutely confidential?
I'm 64 years old, and I'm no closer to figuring out life's why-things-happen-the-way-they-do mystery than I was when I was a teenage pup.
After I wrote a column last week detailing my secret dream of becoming a symphony conductor, my friend Waylon Fortenberry of Chesterfield County called me.
If you could have any job in the world, what would it be?
Like most people, I'm interested in the public school system of this county and state. Often my interest goes beyond that, to other areas of the country, especially urban school systems, which have often struggled.
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