Point of No Return
We all like to feel secure.
Human beings are a fickle breed. We allow things on the outside to consistently interfere and influence the things on the inside. We run hot and cold, and our overall moods and dispositions often vary from moment to moment. Good things cause us to be in good moods. Bad things tend to put us in bad moods.
Thanksgiving is largely built on traditions. You know, like white people coming here and running through the native population like they were ...
But I digress.
When I read the other day in The (Baltimore) Sun that a University of Maryland commission recently recommended that the school cut eight sports, I was a little sad.
I really should be happy.
My ever-graying beard and creaky joints partner perfectly with this new conversation-starter I’ve been using more and more frequently as of late: I remember back when ...
I’ve been somewhat fascinated by the Occupy Wall Street demonstrations.
Those of you who regularly read my column (Hi, Mom!) know that I absolutely love my dogs, Guinness and Bailey.
Before I moved back to our little coastal oasis of Delaware in 2003, I was the editor of two weekly newspapers in the Atlanta area — the Rockdale Neighbor and the DeKalb Neighbor.
Gov. Jack Markell announced at a news conference last Friday that Delaware has banned “bath salts,” making them illegal in the state. The bath salts have been added to Delaware’s Schedule I of Controlled Substances, following a recommendation by the Controlled Substances Advisory Committee.
This might be hard for some of you to accept, but there are times I upset people in this office for how I talk about them on this page. Be it the ever-changing job description of Bob Bertram in our masthead every week, or little comments I occasionally make about employees in this space, there have been a few moments when I’ve walked into the Coastal Point multiplex and found angry eyes staring at me.
Dear Steelers fans,
America is a lot of things, to a lot of different people.
I got the call on Sunday, at approximately the same time I was letting out a huge sigh of relief that the wrath of Hurricane Irene did little more than knock down a few branches at my house. It was our publisher, Susan Lyons, who called, and she had a somber tone to her voice.
Now, wait a minute. I’m not diving into the quagmire that is evolution versus creationism. No, no, no. This is more about what we do as a civilization in general.
There’s an ongoing one-sided dialogue between myself and my dogs. The reason I say this is one-sided is because it’s, well, one-sided. My dogs can’t speak. Well, not English, anyway.
There are a few certainties in my life every August.
Through selfless compromise and a keen eye toward the welfare of our citizenry, our national leaders reached a deal to raise the nation’s debt ceiling on Tuesday. This prevented our proud nation from going into default and showed once again that we the people have done another stellar job of selecting the best of the best to lead us into ...
When I was 10, this was undeniably the most wonderful time of the year for me. Christmas was great — don’t get me wrong. But it was fleeting. There was a day of receiving presents, and then, well, a hurried rush to see family members and then a quick return to school.
There have been some mind-boggling inventions throughout the course of my lifetime. No, I wasn’t around for the dawn of the automotive industry, though Bob Bertram tells me they were indeed exciting times. And airplanes were already a standard means of travel by the time I started digressing around the house in diapers. But some of the advancements I’ve seen in my relatively short amount of time on this planet often make me mentally pause and digest just how far we’ve come.
Verdict brings back memories of Simpson
There are times when acceptance of an inevitable truth comes to one slowly — a steady progression of experiences that leads to an unmistakeable reality that something has indeed happened.
So, I went to Sunday’s final round of the U.S. Open at Congressional Country Club in Bethesda, Md.
According to a report released by three Democratic U.S. Senators earlier this week, a significant number of weapons used by Mexican drug gangs come from within our country.
When I was a kid, there was a certain classmate who delighted in bullying me.
There is nothing like a good old family connection story that truly touches the heart.
I thought I was all set for doomsday. Huddled beneath my kitchen table with a helmet strapped tightly to my head and a flyswatter in my tightly-clenched fist, I kept a keen eye on the digital clock by my side.
Well, that was a fairly quick offseason, wasn’t it?
It’s been a couple interesting weeks for me.