This summer, I’ve appreciated the blessings of refrigerated air:
Cold glacial chunks of pink watermelon on a muggy afternoon. A jar of ice-cube-clinking lemonade forming beads and a wet ring on the counter, and which you hold to your hot face before swigging. The lovely, soul-restoring bliss of chilled chocolate milk, falling through the floors of your innards like a rich cold river, bringing old memories and hopes to life.
Then, there’s my car. I have no AC because I rarely used it in my last car, and don’t drive many long stints on the sun-beaten interstate.

This year’s gospel concert at the Tazewell County Fair offers one musician a chance to visit his mother while spreading the gospel.

Beware whenever “the children” are used to justify some action, inaction or cause. You can bet that “the children” won’t benefit one bit either way. You can be equally sure that all attempts at logical conversation and debate have gone out the window. At that point there can be no pros or cons, only “the children.”

FloydFest kicks it up with Cajun swing

When I woke up Monday morning and had to negotiate with my legs to carry me to the kitchen, it took me a few minutes to realize what the matter was. I’m older than I was 13 years ago. And my body holds a grudge when my brain forgets it. 

Love of the oak tree is acquired, like a taste for bitter coffee or hiking, work or philosophy.  It may hold no sweetness or excitement for us as children, but has an enduring appeal that grows with time. 

Don’t leave the kids at grandma’s! Bring them to FloydFest

Book reviews are rarely the fodder of major news controversies, but thanks to the wizardry of Harry Potter, two reviews and, of course, one highly anticipated book were the sources of media frenzy this week.

I’ve been getting a lot of e-mail lately from lonely women asking if they can send me some naked pictures. 

How hard can it be to build a field house?