WASHINGTON -- Mr. Speaker, please don't.
NEW YORK -- It befalls the columnist this time of year to look back and recap; to assign blame and shame, while offering the obligatory mea culpa; and, of course, to resolve.
My voice bothers me. Hearing my intonation on an answering machine or a message makes me wince. But there's not really a thing I can do to change this, is there? Sure, I often enjoy cigars, and think perhaps this will give my pipes a deeper, raspier tone, but I don't honestly trust it'll Barry White my inflection.
About this time last year, I started a new tradition: looking back at the year in crime -- but from a funny point of view.
At last, somebody has made an epic, triumphant movie about a hero with which I am personally familiar: a recovering stutterer.
On a recent November morning after the General Election, I set out from my home in Columbia to go to my 64th high school reunion. All graduation classes from Midway High School have been meeting together annually for several years. This year the reunion was being held in a church at Shepard.
I often bash government. I say it can't do anything better than people in a free market.
Apparently, there is not much of a correlation between a person's age and level of maturity.
As 2010 turns to dust, a smattering of things I found in my mailbox:
Today's lesson in revisionist American history is brought to you by Mississippi Gov. Haley Barbour.
2010 was a grand year in my eyes. Another one down, and with it, the knowledge and wisdom 365 days brings. Over the past year, in my sphere, there were certain news, entertainment and sports items I simply couldn't elude --
WASHINGTON -- The vice president calls, more than an hour after the appointed time but with an impeccable excuse: He was presiding over the Senate's vote to ratify the New START treaty.
Kaptin, Siren, Kare Bear, Venom and Professor. They sound like superhero names. And they are certainly heroes in my book.
As we continue to celebrate the holidays and ring in the New Year this weekend, it is important to be sensible about our merry-making. In addition to the well-known dangers, there is a new one -- alcoholic energy drinks, otherwise known as "alcopops." These drinks have recently gained national attention after a rash of student hospitalizations in other states.
Jack is 6 1/2, and Frances Anne just turned 4. I will not burden you with tiresome anecdotes about how funny, quick and special they are. Just take my word for it: They are.
As the primary pundit at the "Harmony County Weekly Blister," I am frequently called upon to perform many tasks. So, besides winding up the cat and putting out the clock, I also write the advice to the lovelorn column entitled, "Ask the Stud Muffin."
I never played high school football. My glory days ended with the little league Lions and the gridiron of my youth is now a stand of depressingly mature pine trees across the old, worn foot bridge in Woodward Park. Like many, I now enjoy the pleasure of watching and cheering on younger generations and look forward to each new season as it plays out on our home field at Zemp Stadium. It is my opinion that we, as a community, should keep Zemp and prepare the old facility for the future.
WASHINGTON -- Lego's groundbreaking female-scientists set sold out almost immediately after it was released this month. But never fear, fans of feminist toys: A new Barbie doll, now in stock, is also shattering the plastic ceiling.
For the past couple of years, our district has designated one book for summer reading for secondary students. I've really liked this approach. It has generated a lot of enthusiasm and gotten entire families involved. This year's book, This I Believe II, is a collection of personal essays by a very diverse group of people, ranging from legendary cellist Yo-Yo Ma to author Studs Terkel. The book got me to thinking; if I was to write an essay about what I believe about education, what would I say?
Let me begin with full disclosure: I was born in Greenville and even though my family moved away when I was 5 years old, I still consider Greenville my hometown. And, as with a first love, one's hometown will always be something special. So it is with me and Greenville.
Some missing something or the other required me to prowl through closets at Mama's house. That's when I found it. I pulled it out and smiled broadly, warmed by the memories it evoked.
I am man enough to admit that I have cried more than once since the news broke that Robin Williams had died by what local officials said was suicide.
WASHINGTON -- Grade deflation is dead. Long live grade inflation!
Since I have lived in this area for about eight months now, I have made a discovery about Camden. There's quite a bit of music talent here, especially for a town this size. I have to also say that my opinion comes from just the musicians I know and have heard perform personally. I'm sure there are countless others I don't know about -- yet.
I watched Rory McIlroy win the PGA title Sunday, his third straight golf tournament victory and his second major title within three weeks.
I jokingly call my backyard "the wilderness." My house, built in 1912, sits fairly close to my downtown street, as is the custom in the Historic District in Sumter. The Victorian cast iron fence and neat little patch of grass in my front yard belie what is happening behind my house. The deck at the back of my house overlooks a very deep backyard filled with towering oak and pecan trees. Just over the fence at the rear of the yard is a magnificent willow oak which is probably 100 years old. It rises majestically above all and makes a ...
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