I remember that night in January 1991 when allied forces began bombing Iraq. CNN, which was the only cable news channel at the time, had correspondents in Baghdad and they had pictures of the missiles as they destroyed targets in Iraqi territory.
September used to mean something. Now, it seems relegated to being just another month on the calendar.
Back in the 1980s, cable TV started branching out into various specialty channels, offering 24 hours of news, sports and weather.
I am getting close to being a half-century away from my kindergarten days, but in some crazy way, I can still remember the songs and activities.
His name was General and he was a palomino horse. Not a pretty golden palomino like Trigger, Roy Rogers' famous horse, but a kind of dull shade of beige.
Of all the seasons, there is something bittersweet about the end of summer. Of course, summer is far from over with the potential of more scorching days in August.
Our society places a high priority on winning. It is a seemingly natural thing to do.
In one of my favorite Merle Haggard songs, "Okie From Muskogee," Haggard writes about the local college saying "Football's still the roughest thing on campus and the kids there still respect the college dean."
This is the season of camp meetings, a protestant religious exercise that dates back to the early 1800s when Methodists and Baptists were just beginning to set up shop here in the U.S.
We will never go back to the days of three TV channels, one wired phone and a camera that required film, but there are times I'd like to.
I was born in Atlanta and we lived there until I was 8. I was born in the middle of the time when racial tensions were rising. In my boyhood, the Vietnam War began to escalate and that created a different kind of tension.
With fresh peaches now arriving at produce markets around the region, I thought it was time for a churn of fresh peach ice cream.
In the Southern Baptist church, there once was an organization called Royal Ambassadors or "RAs" for short.
I don't know exactly at what age my baby girl blurted out something that sounded like "Daddy," but I've always loved the sound of it.
I love this country of ours. When I travel through it, I find myself loving it more.
Sometimes, when I gripe about slow computers or cellphones that don't do what they are supposed to do, I think about how far we have come in my lifetime.
When I was a kid in Social Circle, our town doctor used to make an ice sculpture of sorts when it got really cold.
In an earlier time, we used to celebrate the birthdays of George Washington and Abraham Lincoln in February. Now, we have combined them into one day to honor all presidents of the United States.
Back in the days before the interstate highway system would take you where you needed to go, we used to take a cross-country route to Jekyll Island or to visit family in Jacksonville, Fla.
Forecasting the weather is a job I wouldn't want. If you predict rain and it doesn't, folks chuckle and go on their way. If you predict a blizzard and it doesn't happen, folks will stop just short of calling for a lynch mob.
Somewhere along the way, we will explain to future generations how gasoline once cost about 35 cents a gallon and how someone would pump it for you, check your tires and oil and wipe off your windshield.
I remember the night Martin Luther King Jr. was killed.
Funeral and wedding songs are often the subject of much discussion, particularly after the event.
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