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    My mother used to call me Pigpen. I could try to convince people that Mother was a Grateful Dead fan, and that her favorite was the first of t…

      I consider it a sacred trust to periodically remind the Twelve Loyal Readers of the importance of checkout line selection. I was careless over…

        I heard a dramatic sigh, and wondered what would follow. It was Sunday evening, a melancholy time when the weekly two-day respite draws to a c…

          This week I had occasion to break out an oldie but a goody. During a conversation with a friend he asked me, “That’s an oxymoron, isn’t it?” T…

            Several years ago, daily printing of the Dothan Eagle was moved off-site and our press operation was retired. That decision idled our back sho…

              Platitudes drive me up the wall. When I hear them, my eyes roll and I curse under my breath. To say they exasperate me is an understatement — …

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