I have done something that I vowed I would not do. I have succumbed to the latest fad. I have gone gluten free. I have never felt better.
The thing that got me thinking, as I was unloading the dishwasher, was the contrast between what we have eaten off of since we set up housekeeping and what my mama had.
It seems like I have been to a lot of funerals lately, which tells me something about myself
I believe wholeheartedly in what Phoenix Pass is doing. So here is what you can do for me. You can call 770-760-1020 and buy your tickets. They are $25 apiece and every dime goes to do the work of Phoenix Pass. Every dime
But growing up and watching the Macy’s Parade and “Miracle of 34th Street” and the lighting of the tree in Rockefeller Center on my little black-and-white television set convinced me that the Big Apple had to be the place where all the cool people went to celebrate the holidays.
Well, if you have been traipsing to your mailbox every day since Thanksgiving, hoping to find a card from yours truly, you may be feeling like Charlie Brown right about now.
Please. Don’t just think to yourselves, “I’ll do that.” Actually do it. If not today, tomorrow. Don’t put it off. There are dozens of places you can take your toys locally.
I am thankful for memories — even sad ones — because memories mean that significant events have occurred in my life. I am thankful for every card and letter and phone call of encouragement I have received over the past two years and I am thankful for each and every prayer that has been sent heavenward on my behalf.
There is one problem that being a former educator has produced. What do I do with all those crazy school ties?
Sometimes I wish I could just pave over the yard and paint it green. I have been doing this for weeks now and when I look up into the trees they still look 95 percent full. Yet another disadvantage of being a retired school teacher.
I am a man of tradition. That’s another way to say that I am old and set in my ways, I suppose. If it was good enough for my parents it should be good enough for me.
I don’t know how he knows but Jodey, who is really good at this stuff, tells me that we have a couple thousand regular listeners in 30 states and five or six foreign nations. Folks are sitting down in the United Kingdom and Norway listening to me talk about how things used to be in the American South. It’s a great country, isn’t it. Who’d a thunk it?
The inhabitants here call their little piece of paradise the Conch Republic because in 1982, when the U.S. Government set up barricades on U.S. 1 and stopped and searched every car coming into Key West, the city council voted to secede from the Union and become an independent republic. The whole thing was rather tongue-in-cheek but it got Key West the attention it was seeking and soon the roadblock was lifted.
I don’t know if those principals got anything out of listening to me last week, but I certainly enjoyed the trip down Memory Lane the opportunity afforded me.
Yankees say we Southerners are not too bright. At least we know enough chemistry to understand the melting point of sugar.