Like a pitcher who has lost his fastball, Barack Obama has lost "the speech." The speech has always been central to the president and his presidency. He established his credentials with the one he delivered to the 2004 Democratic National Convention while still a state senator. He followed that with many others - Berlin, Cairo, Philadelphia on race, etc. - each one greeted with bobby soxer delirium, which Obama fully expected. In 2004, just before he spoke to the convention, he told his friend Marty Nesbitt that the excitement about him was yet to peak. "My speech is pretty good," he allowed.
With graduation just a few days behind us, it brought my own days in school to mind.
We Americans have always been noted for our ability to have opposing political groups playing hardball politics while remaining civil and non-violent. When the campaigning, debating and voting was over, we returned to running the government and moving forward. The night time threats of physical violence to an opponent and his family was reserved for the banana republics and dictatorships. Sadly, some citizens of Newton County have recently displayed banana republic political behavior.
"To you, I lift up my eyes, O you who are enthroned in the heavens!"
My granddaughter in the fourth grade recently had a test over pronouns, and in particular the many different spellings and meanings of "there, their, they're, theirs, there's.
The lighting was dim and the air filled with the fragrance of carnations and roses last Friday night. The tiny baby lay there quietly, with perfectly round cheeks and a little button nose, like on all newborn faces. A knit cap covered his hair, a monogrammed blanket was tucked beneath his chin, and as I heard others remarking, that precious baby looked just like a porcelain doll displayed in a box.
The aging process is a strange thing.
Budget follies are in full swing in the nation's capital once again. Republicans, who agreed to automatic cuts a few months ago, are now trying to find a way to avoid defense cuts.
I'm going to take the opportunity this week to write a letter of thanks to our veterans.
I guess I'm just a Luddite, trapped in a world-gone-by, but I prefer old movies to most of the ones coming out now. While there are some really good movies - the Harry Potter series comes to mind - most of the new stuff is just too trashy for me. There's too much cussin', too much sex, and way too much irreverence being shown to the things I care about. But those old movies are different. There's something comforting about watching a movie that celebrates goodness and honesty and doesn't glorify evil. That might seem so old fashioned ...
A special work session of the Board of Commissioners of Newton County was held Monday night to determine the continuing status of the Administrative Assistant position and how that position would function and report. Up to this time the position held by Mr. Middleton reported directly to the Chairman of the Board of Commissioners Kathy Morgan. Chairman Morgan had full administrative power and singular control of the daily operations of Newton County.
I am still not quite sure whether it is the result of the open-heart surgery I had 13 years ago or the fact I have gotten older, but it seems that I can well up with uncontrolled tears these days due to the strangest things.
If only I could turn my thoughts to all that's pleasant this time of year. Aren't the trees just gorgeous? And what about these perfect, blue-sky days we've enjoyed?
Gov. Nathan Deal has once again overlooked my immense talents when making his governmental appointments. Seven former legislators have recently been appointed to high posts in the Deal administration. Why legislators? One observer told the Atlanta Newspapers that it helps to have had the experience of serving in the Legislature to understand the inner workings of government. I already understand the inner workings of government: Free "working trips" to Germany, eating off lizard-loafered lobbyists, never paying to see a ballgame and furloughing school teachers. I guess I'll stick to being a modest and much-beloved columnist where my inner working ...
I direct a duplicate bridge game once a week. To make me sound important, I am an American Contract Bridge League certified director. That fancy name doesn't mean much. Last week, however, the other directors were out of town, and I had to direct three games.
It's one of those things that makes you go, huh?
Gents, we're often accused of being unable to do anything culinary other than burning steaks on a charcoal grill or making peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches. I don't think this reputation is fair, but the ladies may have a point or two in their favor. For instance, I've yet to meet a man who owns a recipe box - one of those wooden dust-gatherers where you keep index cards with step-by-step instructions for making pies, cakes and casseroles. I don't know too many men who wear floral aprons either, but let's stick to the recipe problem. Go out in ...