I remember the very first time I ever set eyes on Terri Hubbard Cooper. How many people can we say that about in our lives?
I don’t know what it is about these two weeks in April, but I know that they have always led to significant drama in the history of this great country. Some of the most memorable events in the fabric that makes up the tapestry that is the United States of America have occurred on or around the particular dates we are navigating this week or will navigate next.
Remember the television word game, Password? I bet it has been a long time since you’ve thought about that one. I believe the way it worked was that people played in teams and one partner would give clues to try and help the other partner guess the word at hand.
When I was a high school student, way back in the previous century, Fridays were special. In the fall there were football games, which meant that the players on the football team wore their jerseys to school but, more importantly, the cheerleaders wore their uniforms. Short skirts — very short skirts — were the order of the day.
I went to bed Thursday night with a nice and shiny black SUV in my driveway. I woke up with a sickening yellow SUV in my driveway. Like a sneak attack from above, the pollen season is upon us.
The National World War II Museum is tucked away in downtown New Orleans, on the corner of Magazine Street and Andrew Higgins Boulevard.
The Mississippi Delta begins in the lobby of the Peabody Hotel in Memphis, Tenn. I indulged myself, and the group that was with me, by having Sunday brunch at the Peabody. Perhaps overindulged would be more correct.
I have spent almost a year now trying to convince myself that I didn’t miss the classroom. Truth be known, there are a lot of things about modern education that I really don’t miss — and I have certainly enjoyed my first 10 months of retirement. Let’s just say that I have found a few ways to keep busy.
I spend a lot of time waxing nostalgic about the good old days, which — truth be told — might or might not have been quite as good as I recall. I do miss those days when we were a kinder and gentler society.
I suppose I am among the majority of Americans, and people in general, who don’t particularly like change. Not only do I not embrace it, I have been known to run away and climb a tree to get away from it.