Columns

The other day I was getting the news at a local watering hole when a nice looking young lady came in. She got the items she needed and left. I said goodbye to my buddies and followed her out. As she was putting her small son into a car seat, I passed behind her and something caught my eye. It was another tattoo moment. She had one on her backside that became visible when she bent over the child’s car seat. In the center of her spine was a beautiful fleur-de-lis inside an arrow, which pointed down. Underneath, it said “Legend”. [Full Story »] 

In a phone conversation last week, I asked my son Josh if he’d gotten his computer repaired. [Full Story »] 

When I was a child, we visited Granny Nichols every Sunday afternoon for an hour or two. The grown-ups would sit and talk while we children played, but first I had to stand in front of Granny as she ran her fingers over my face and felt the top of my head. Her fingers did for her what her eyes could not. [Full Story »] 

I called our new priest the other afternoon and asked, “How are you doing?” He answered with one word, “Starving”, so I told him it was fat Monday at the Vickers household and he was welcome to come over. He asked “What are we cooking?” to which I replied cracklin’ bread, collard greens, smoked hippo hocks and black eyed peas, rice, and fried fresh pork side. All that was needed from there was what time the feeding frenzy was to start.

I like to ‘feed the preacher’, and remember this being a southern tradition. [Full Story »] 

Way back in high school, I had a wonderful math teacher who taught me algebra and geometry. Her method of teaching made math easy and fun for me. She stood, clicking her chalk on the board, explaining problem after problem until the bulb popped on in my brain. She had infinite patience with those of us who paid attention and tried, but woe be unto any one who didn’t. She threw chalk and books, screamed at lazy students, and slapped her yardstick onto her desk. Some of her methods are frowned upon today and I don’t advocate using them, but they worked—for me anyway. Even then I had little tolerance for lethargic students and agreed with her on most things. However, she often told the class, “Don’t do as I do; do as I say do.” Even in my youth, I suspected that instruction. [Full Story »] 

I am honest in my writing in that I sometimes tell of things that might go unmentioned by normal people. I don’t do this to embarrass anyone, including family members; it’s just that I feel led sometimes to discuss touchy subjects in order to teach the wayward among us, to bring some light into the darkness. Here goes. [Full Story »] 

The temperature was rather warm when I put the riding mower (is there any other kind?) in gear this afternoon and headed out front to cut the grass that the rain keeps bringing up for me. I’d just cut maybe three days ago, but it was definitely time to cut again. As I drove along the edge of the lawn, I slowed to admire the cotton plants growing in the field beside us. Big blooms waved in the breeze. Obviously the daily rain was growing that cotton, too, not just my grass. It was practically jumping up. [Full Story »]