Me: "Ever notice there aren't any contestants our age on Wheel of Fortune?” Wife: "No, but you're right. Why is that?" Me: "They fall asleep before the show is over."
The number of advertisements each of us sees in a day is sizable. According to a 2019 LinkedIn article, each person in the US is exposed to over 5,000 ads every 24 hours. That’s 4,500 more each day than we saw in the 1970s.
I was too young to remember the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis or the assassination of President Kennedy.
At 11:25 a.m. with the ring of a bell, the entire high school student body divided itself into three distinct groups. Those who brought their lunch, those who left campus, and those who ate in the cafeteria.
There wasn’t much else that was worse than being assigned to sort the bottle room in back of the Piggly Wiggly. If someone could fit an object in an empty Coke bottle, they’d put it in there.
My wife and I love to buy old cookbooks. I find most of them at estate sales.
It looks like a square with a corner cut off.
I can still smell the aroma of the freshly opened box of crayons and two sharpened Husky pencils. The distinctive scent of Crayola Crayons and shaved wood just smelled like the beginning of education.
In the summer of 1977, I was finally old enough to get my first job — my first real job, that is.
The brains of men and women couldn’t be more different. I’m sure that by pairing the two, the Good Lord above has had lots of laughs.
As I drove to work, the first thing I noticed was the flashing yellow lights in the school zones weren’t blinking.
Remember when you’d visit family and they’d pull out the slide projector for the three-hour presentation of their trip to Carlsbad Caverns and Dodge City?
There are two culinary camps. Those who believe in spicy, and those who don’t.
What has happened to this great country? We once held high standards for ourselves. But no more.
Planes used to be a means of travel for the rich. You’d see people in the movies or on TV flying first-class with five-course meals, champagne, cloth napkins, cocktails and a nice restroom at the back of the plane.
I’ve come to the conclusion that the only way to find something you’ve misplaced is to buy another one.
It wasn’t my idea of a vacation, but I went anyway.
Vacuum cleaners have come a long way. Too far, if you ask me.
We all have that one friend who never seems to age. You know, the one from high school who shows up at the class reunion and they look just like they did in 12th grade?
When I was 9, I got into a fight with a kid across the street. I don’t recall what started it, other than it was related to a 45 RPM copy of “Joy To The World” by Three Dog Night.
Families didn’t used to take the volume of photographs that we do now. The cameras of decades ago made it cost prohibitive to shoot the number of pictures we do today.
I thought the cast iron skillet my mom cooked virtually every meal in when I was a child was her favorite. I now know that she cooked with it because it was the only skillet she had.
If there’s anything crueler than insomnia, it’s insomnia topped with a weakness for cooking gadgets sold on 3 a.m. infomercials.
Ironically, the year America celebrated its 200th birthday and independence from England, it was a British rock star who held the No. 1 spot on the American rock album charts for 10 weeks.
I was too small for football and too slow for track. I played catcher, but was a lousy hitter.
“You’re 24 years old. You really need to find a primary care doctor,” my wife said.
My grandfather’s shop seemed cavernous. Every room was filled with tools that a man with a strong back could use to make a living and feed his family.
When I was little, every time I got sick, I was fairly certain that every medication the adults dispensed was designed to kill me.
Each time we have a significant weather event, it seems to turn into a contest for storytelling. Each person tries to top the current weather with a story of another weather incident they lived through that was far worse.
Most of us have a box or other container where we keep items we feel are important enough to carry with us throughout our lives. Mine is a cardboard box. It includes things that might not mean much to others, but do to me.
Do you ever wonder why they couldn’t just leave paper towels like they were?
My father would load my sister and me into his ‘52 Chevy truck, and he’d steer down the gravel road leading to the homestead where my mom was raised.
Please forgive me, for I have become biscuit backslidden.
Nixon was in the White House and Scooby-Doo was on our school lunch boxes. It was 1969. For a kid, life was good.
One of the neatest feelings of youth was saving up enough money to buy that next record you wanted.
In my previous column, I mentioned my resolution to help others during the New Year. Some readers felt that resolutions were a waste of time, while others felt resolutions are admirable, but not sustainable.
In my previous column, I mentioned my resolution to help others during the New Year. Some readers felt that resolutions were a waste of time, while others felt resolutions are admirable, but not sustainable.
When trying to decide on a 2021 resolution on how to improve myself, a thought that had popped into my head recently came back to the forefront.
Each Christmas Eve in the 1960s, my sister and I would take a ride in my grandmother’s sled.
The ways of the South are not the ways of the rest of the country. I’ve never been to New York City, but from what I hear, the folks there say exactly what they think.
The days after Thanksgiving. When married men go to the ER for a new cast from falling off the roof while installing the Christmas decorations their wives insist on, and single men sit around in their underwear watching sports and consuming adult beverages.
Most of us celebrate Thanksgiving without a second thought. That’s not how it was intended.
For someone named Norm, he was anything but.
When we moved into our house several years ago, it was during the month of June. A scruffy tree with small green leaves was blocking our view of the pond. I said I was going to cut it down.
I’m fairly certain my dreams have a drug dealer.
I’m old enough to remember needing to dial only four numbers to call someone. And when ZIP codes weren’t necessary.
If you grew up in the South, you could tell what your momma was about to make based on the bowl or casserole dish she had sitting on the kitchen counter.
They call them seasons. I think that’s because each adds a specific type of sensory spice to that quarter of the year.
Columbo is the best TV detective America has ever had.
I was in my 50s when I started my writing career. When most people were enjoying their newfound discounts at Denny’s and Cracker Barrel, I was reinventing myself. Even though I didn’t know it at the time.
“Like many pals, Antonin Scalia and Ruth Bader Ginsburg could have a pretty good argument now and then, but not let it affect their close friendship.”
