NASHVILLE - The drive to Music City is a long one and we exhausted the football talk just north of Chattanooga, so the conversation turned to politics.
NASHVILLE - The drive to Music City is a long one and we exhausted the football talk just north of Chattanooga, so the conversation turned to politics.
By the time you read this, I figure I will have heard the song "Rocky Top" so many times this weekend that my head will have exploded.
Unless you've been living under a rock these last few months, you know we are coming up on an important election cycle.
OXFORD, Miss. - We've come to this home office of Southern hospitality primarily for a football game. As another section of the paper today documents, my beloved Georgia Bulldogs took on the Ole Miss Rebels in a game Saturday.
Today is my mother's birthday. There is a law that prohibits me from divulging her age. That law is murder. If I put her age in the newspaper, she'll kill me. Nonetheless, I want to do something to mark her special day. I thought about writing about what a great mother she was and about the great childhood I had growing up in small-town Georgia. Because all of that is true. But the more I ...
Our priorities get so screwed up sometimes. We put athletes or musicians or reality TV stars on a pedestal. We want to be like them.
Probably all of us have memories of gathering on rainy summer afternoons to play board games with family and friends. It was a great way to entertain ourselves in the days before video games and 200-plus channels of cable TV made board games seem old-fashioned.
The first Georgia football game I attended was in 1969. The Dogs whipped Tulane 35-0. I still have the ticket stub tucked away in a scrapbook. I was 5.
I know that many of you share my concern over the fragile state of our economy. It seems that every day brings bad news for our finances.
Let me start this morning by stating that I realize I'm getting older. I'm 47 now, not exactly a spring chicken, but still a few decades removed from the Old Editor's Home.
I love books. Fiction. Nonfiction. It doesn't really matter. I've been this way since childhood, ever since Mrs. Widener taught us to read in the first grade. Before long, I was sharing the adventures of teenage detectives Frank and Joe Hardy. Soon after that, I was floating down the Mississippi with Huck and Jim, experiencing the Civil War through the eyes of Scarlett and Rhett and learning about racial inequality with Scout Finch. I love ...
I enjoy a good nap. I'm not afraid to admit that. By "good nap," I don't mean when you accidentally fall asleep sitting in your easy chair watching TV or reading a book. Catching 40 winks that way is fine, I suppose. But that's not really a nap. A good nap is a deliberate effort, time set aside in the afternoon for a mini-snoozefest. The couch calls out to you as you begin to have ...
One of my favorite movies of all time is "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington." It stars Jimmy Stewart as Jefferson Smith, a naive man appointed to fill a vacancy in the U.S. Senate.
Sherwood Schwartz died last week, and if you don't have any idea who he was, that's OK. You certainly know his work.
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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