Opinions

Take a gander at the receipt on the right. Notice anything unusual? Cold-water lobster, porterhouse steak, and a 24-pack of soda for good measure. Sounds like a great dinner, right? Have you noticed the circled area yet?

That’s right. Food stamps bought this $141.78 meal. Your tax dollars helped give several people a great meal; one fit for a king you might say. [Full Story »] 

Friday evening found Larry and me in Brunswick. We made a quick trip to the doctor to see what condition Larry’s condition was in and then the car automatically headed to Belk’s. However, I got sidetracked and turned into Ross’ instead. Inside I found several items I wanted to try on. As I went into the dressing room, a pretty young lady about 13 or 14 went into the room right beside me. Her arms were more heavily laden than mine. After trying on all my pants and shirts, I decided I didn’t like anything and headed for the door. As I handed the 5 items and the ticket with the big 5 on it to the dressing room monitor, the young lady stepped out and said politely to the monitor, “Can I go show my mama this outfit? She wanted to see it before I buy it.” [Full Story »] 

I try to keep humor in most of my stories but sometimes it’s hard to do. Often the condition of our country occupies all my thinking and I can find no humor in it. This is one of those days. [Full Story »] 

The staff at St. Marys Magnolia Manor is all-creative when it comes to contriving mischief for the chaplain. They love to see me come in because they know that they will have someone to pick on. There is never a dull moment at St. Marys Magnolia Manor. The latest “thing” they have yoked me into is a dance called the Zumbah--pronounced Zuuumbahhhh. [Full Story »] 

Dear Editor,

For many years I have for the most part minded my own business, keeping my mouth shut, and watching life go on around me. But the murder of Cpl. James M. Dixon III, USMC, changed that. My tolerance level plummeted.

I have spoken with several people about the events surrounding James’ death, and I understand that he did not fire his gun at anyone, nor was he pointing it or preparing to fire when he was killed. It seems that in his mind, he was in Iraq, surrounded by the enemy. He was standing there holding his gun, in a state of confusion. If he had been pointing his gun or preparing to fire, his death would have been justified, if there were no way to subdue him. [Full Story »] 

Next Tuesday, March 6, the Presidential Preference Primary will be held in Georgia. Equally as important to Appling Countians as selecting the nominee for President is a vote on the Education Special Purpose Local Option Sales Tax (ESPLOST) for Appling County Schools. [Full Story »] 

On Sunday morning, February 19, 2012, James Dixon III, was shot down in his own front yard by a Georgia State Patrol SWAT team called in to assist our sheriff’s department. He died here at home at the hands of his own countrymen. He should have been safe here as he worked with the VA doctors to overcome the terrors of Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. But something went intolerably wrong on that black Sunday. [Full Story »] 

Early Valentine Day morning, B. J. awakened me from a deep sleep. Before I could get the cobwebs out of my eyes and brain, she hit me with a proposal: “Happy Valentine’s Day. Let’s eat breakfast at the King and Prince this morning.” [Full Story »] 

A presentation given by Superintendent Scarlett Copeland at the Appling County Board of Education work session meeting, held Monday, Feb. 13, was an eye-opener. Copeland showed how state funding for education continues to dwindle. [Full Story »] 

More than two inches of rain fell on the dry, thirsty soil of Pine Grove Saturday night. I lay in my bed under a cozy red blanket and relished the sound of rain on the roof. I’m convinced that is one of the most pleasant sounds known to man. Intent on listening to the musical pelting, I’d forget to read my book for several minutes at a time, and not much makes me forget to read. Even as Larry and I rushed around to unplug the computers when the lightening worsened, we kept grinning like kids on Christmas morning. [Full Story »] 

We finally got all our gear together and made it to the river by mid-afternoon. Getting the boat launched at the Flat Tub landing was a chore but a liberal application of internal bug repellant took care of the worry and aggravation. Finally, we were underway downriver to a deep hole where we knew there had to be a barrel of catfish waiting. We baited our poles and started the waiting game. Doctor P.U. Nasty, my partner, decided we needed to move up a little ways and put the brand new trolling motor in the water and touched the pedal. Within seconds a Flathead catfish, an invasive species, that weighed at least twenty pounds floated to the surface right by the boat and just lay there, belly up, waiting to be netted. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Doc wasted no time in netting the huge catfish and had no sooner netted the one when another floated up. [Full Story »]