Hardly a meeting or event I attend ends without the tell-tale sounds of a cell phone ringing, as if any of us are really expecting a call of such importance that it couldn't wait a few minutes.
We have a meeting around here on Thursday to talk about what's planned for the Sunday paper. When we started talking about this section of the paper, I mentioned that my column this week would be about all this winter weather we've had this week.
After two weeks of overdosing on bowl games, caucuses and primaries, I've come to an inescapable conclusion: We have screwed-up ways in this country for selecting presidents and college football national champions.
NEW ORLEANS -- The first thing you notice when you drive into New Orleans from the east on Interstate 10 is that nothing looks unusual.
I don't usually make New Year's resolutions because I usually can't keep them. Like many people, I start the year with grand plans and by the second week of January, I'm back to my old habits.
As a dog owner, I've been fortunate. Glory, the black and white Springer spaniel who lives at my house, has never been particularly destructive. Even as a puppy - the most destructive phase of a dog's life - she only chewed on her chew toys and left my tennis shoes, chair legs and the TV remote alone.
So Bobby Petrino bolts from his job as coach of the Falcons, and we're left to wonder whether we can ever trust anything a big-time football coach ever says again. He's not the first coach to lie to his employer or his fans - see "Saban, Nick" - but in just a few hours last week, Petrino so thoroughly trashed what's left of his reputation as an honorable man that he's now viewed as being as truthful as politicians and used-car salesmen.
'Tis the season to go shopping, and if you think you're going to find a parking space in the same ZIP code as the store where you want to shop, you're kidding yourself.
It seems like every day brings out a new group of people who think we need to ban the use of cell phones while driving.
I was disappointed, but not really surprised, that once again I wasn't chosen as People magazine's Sexiest Man Alive. For yet another year, the magazine has given the award to one of Hollywood's pretty boys, apparently ignoring the fact that there are plenty of good looking men and women in the world who haven't starred in a Hollywood blockbuster.
I still remember the Christmas card I got in the mail many years ago from a friend who has a delightfully wicked sense of humor.
I spent 10 minutes wandering the dog food aisle of the grocery store this week, searching for the brand I've been buying for Glory, the black and white Spinger spaniel who lives at my house, since she was just a pup. About the time I was ready to give up and buy a different brand, I finally found what I was looking for. The reason I couldn't find my regular brand was because the manufacturer has completely changed the look of the bag.
I've always considered myself a food connoisseur. After all, I've been eating three meals a day for more than four decades, so I've had plenty of practice.
If you are like me and think that the Christmas season doesn't truly begin until Santa Claus makes his appearance in Herald Square at the end of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, then you are probably already tired of hearing "Jingle Bells."
I remember very clearly the first story I ever wrote for a newspaper.
Mere minutes after a teenage terrorist had been captured, Bostonians poured into the streets and cheered – cheered! – the police and firefighters who had ended the terror.
The government has been getting its grubby little paws into your paycheck every two weeks for the last year, and now it's ready for you to give more.
I often get asked how Glory, the black and white springer spaniel who lives at my house, and I got together.
I sometimes have a hard time sleeping, so I do what a lot of people suffering from insomnia do. I turn on the TV.
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