Hooray for Bill Curry! He is the new football coach of the Georgia State University Panthers.
Personalities and events often seem to meld together in unexpected ways. What brought this to mind were the deaths a couple of weeks ago of a fellow church member and client, his wife only months before and of another nonclient member a few weeks earlier. An entirely different event many miles north involving still another member did the retrospective melding.
To distract myself from all of the drama unfolding around the Gainesville City School Board, I turned my jaundiced eye toward Clayton County. I have no vested interests in Clayton County. I don't know anyone in or with the school system there. I've never lived or worked there. Heck, I'm not even absolutely sure if I've ever been there except to possibly drive through on the Interstate.
In the light of two recent Supreme Court rulings, one in California and one at the U.S. Supreme Court, there should be little doubt as to the stakes of the elections this November.
June 8, 1968, is a day I will never forget. On that day I made a spur-of-the moment decision to go to a gravesite service 600 miles from home.
When roaming the political jungles of Georgia, beware of the Killer B's: Barr (Bob) is running for president; Bubba (aka, Lauren McDonald) is running for the Georgia Public Service Commission; Barnes (former Democratic Gov. Roy) is being encouraged to run for anything, as is Bowers (former State Attorney General Michael).
Since I had talked recently to David Egan -- whose group, the Initiative to Protect Jekyll Island, has great concerns about the island's proposed revitalization -- I thought it only fair to see what the Jekyll Island Authority has to say. (Besides, it affords me the opportunity to stop by the exquisite little Georgia Sea Grill on St. Simons Island and stuff my face with corn-fried shrimp. Being a modest and much-beloved columnist does have its rewards.)
In the 1965 song by The Mamas & the Papas, there is a line that goes: "Stopped into a church I passed along the way ..."
"Why would we ever go back?"
When I think about the problems facing our country today, I recall a story of the man who lost his way and stopped to ask directions from an old farmer.
One of the first tasks facing our new president in 2009 will be to nominate persons to serve as cabinet officials and other top bureaucratic posts.
There are no two ways about it: Being a grandfather is better than a plateful of hot buttered biscuits. Nothing compares to it. Nothing comes close.
When I first read the press release, I thought it was a late April Fool's Day hoax.
Georgians either don't care or they're too thick to understand what has happened. In seven years, Georgia has gone from a symbol of the New South to the nose-dive state. We can't get anything right.
Far be it from this pragmatic conservative to tell Democrats how to select their nominee or who it should be. Their very public, intraparty controversy makes the process itself fair game. Should one of the two left actually become president, he or she will be president of all of us.
It was around 1989 when some permutation of the Ku Klux Klan and a motley group of affiliated miscreants applied for and was - as is their right - given permission to demonstrate in Gainesville. At the time my business was located in the Jackson Building on downtown's Washington Street.
Gov. Nathan Deal currently is reviewing the hundreds of bills passed during this year's General Assembly session. He presumably will have everything signed or vetoed by April 30.
Baseball was my first love.
April is Child Abuse Prevention Month in Georgia, as proclaimed by Gov. Nathan Deal. Child abuse is a subject I don't like to think about, let alone write about and you would probably just as soon not hear about. But it is there and we need to acknowledge it and demand some solutions.
Within minutes after a Fulton County jury returned a devastating verdict against the state ethics commission last week, Gov. Nathan Deal's aides were already trying to put their own spin on the story.
I have a note taped up over my computer that reads: "Be prepared for synchronicity in your life. It grew out of some unnamed force somewhere in the universe. Acknowledge it when it appears. Be grateful and give thanks, for if you think deeply, you will find it is not random at all."
I was on the couch, chewing on a straw, watching the zillionth commercial where a middle-aged man takes a pill and he's suddenly happy as all get-out, when my 11-year-old son approached my throne.
Even by my impossibly high standards, this has been a good week.
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