My favorite memory of my father isn't a memory at all - or, at least it's not mine. It's a tale told years ago by his older sister about Dad's first day at elementary school in the south Georgia town where they were born.
Last week, while defending raises for Covington officials, I criticized East Ward council members and the mayor for not seeking training and networking to inform their decision making. In an editorial preceding my column, The Covington News called out some council members for micromanaging city affairs. I share that view, and it is this combination of under-informed over-involvement that concerns me.
Local press and the general public are worked up over raises the Covington City Council quietly voted themselves and the mayor last year. It was the right thing to do, but the wrong way to do it. More important, though, the fussing is missing the bigger point.
While you were riding out the storm last Sunday, I was putting bicycles on the rooftop rack of our car. It was raining, but I'd been tracking radar and hourly forecasts all day. It was now or never.
Single and lonely in a new neighborhood, a guy invites his neighbors to a drop-in party. With ample food and drink, he sits alone as party time comes and goes.
I was conversing with a couple of friends this week, each of whom expressed frustration and disappointment at having been wronged recently in a business transaction.
My wife and I have been vacationing the past week in south Florida. On the first night of the eight-day trip, we took the hotel clerk's dinner recommendation and headed to the restored riverfront in historic Fort Myers.
When I finished high school, I left my childhood behind. It was an unconscious decision, but one I recognize now was necessary for me to evolve into the person I was meant to be.
Local philathropist, gentleman and sage Pierce Cline was well known for the life lessons he learned himself and taught to others through wanderings along the Appalachian Trail.
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This isn't as easy as it looks - this putting together of ~750 words with a coherent thought every week.
I enjoy my bicycle. There's nothing like the freedom of rolling through the countryside propelled only by the power of my own legs, feeling the warm sun on my skin and the cool wind moving over my body, engaging the world with all five of my senses.
I heard the whoosh of a sliding door and the hurried clip-clop of a man's shoes on the tile floor, but I couldn't see him as the elevator doors closed across my view.
Sigh… It's a word to describe a sound we make. But, the meaning can only be discerned by listening closely to the sound.
When protesters boarded three ships under the dark of night on the evening of Dec. 16, 1773 to toss 90,000 pounds of tea into Boston Harbor, it sparked an event only later popularized as the "Boston Tea Party."
For every dollar you or I spend shopping in Newton County, we toss a penny into the jar (figuratively) for Newton County schools. Every visitor to our county does the same. We've been doing it since 1999, and come March 19, we'll decide if we want to continue that practice through 2019.
Four weeks have passed since an overstuffed rodent in Stone Mountain declared six more weeks of winter were coming to Georgia. Evidently, he wasn't referring to these most recent weeks.
When you visit a casino in Las Vegas, Atlantic City, or Biloxi, you say you're going gambling. That's not what the casino operators call it, though. They're not in the gambling business; it's the gaming industry. They provide entertainment.
As someone who exchanges ideas and discusses opinions through social media, writing a printed newspaper column feels a bit odd. I'm used to the back-and-forth interaction I experience online or in person. Dialogue is a vital exercise where I learn from different perspectives. Forced to explain myself, it sharpens, clarifies and sometimes causes me to challenge my own thinking.
Last week was bad - or so it seemed then. Work days were jam-packed with stressful moments, evenings were too short, nights were sleepless, and I could never catch my balance or my breath. Even finding time to write a column was a chore.
It was front page news last summer when Chick-fil-A restaurants across America became the flashpoint for one of our nation's most divisive issues. Following statements by the restaurant chain's President, Dan Cathy, opposing same sex marriage, gay rights groups organized a nationwide boycott. To counter, conservatives opposed to same-sex marriage flooded the nearest Chick-fil-A to make a statement. It got ugly.
Scanning my office bookshelves these days is a trip down Irony Lane - especially when I glance through the cycling section. There's Lance Armstrong's 2001 autobiography, "It's Not About the Bike." Lance, after your long overdue confession to Oprah regarding performance-enhancing drug use and blood doping, we know it was about a lot more than the bike. There's also his 2003 follow up, "Every Second Counts," which cries out for a subtitle such as "And ...
On a sun-filled day in the summer of 1964, an excited boy of 4.5 dances around massive marble columns flanking the top step of the Lincoln Memorial in Washington. Scattered below, tourists mix and mingle on the concrete expanse between the memorial and the reflecting pool stretching to the Washington Monument in the distance.
When we struggle as a nation to find common ground - or even respectful dialog - on anything, the last thing we need is exaggeration and deliberately inflammatory language in discussing the events of the day. We'll always have that from some of the general public, but I expect better from our newspapers. That's why I was disappointed with this newspaper's editorial board for their "Our Thoughts" piece in last Sunday's Covington News titled "Fooled ...
As I write, the new year is already four days spent, and it'll be nearly a week behind us by the time you read this. If you made any resolutions, I hope they're still unbroken.