While I wasn’t playing real close attention Yogi Berra turned 90 last week. Where did my childhood go?
I never like it when news commentators — or man-on-the-street witnesses — describe accident scenes or natural disasters as “looking like a war zone” unless they have, in fact, been in a war zone. I haven’t.
Graduation has always been a special season for me and I have been to hundreds. Many involved my own children. Many involved students I had taught and nurtured over the year, students that I truly hated to see go.
I could live in Portland, Ore. I couldn’t live in many places without grits or sweet iced tea or Republicans, but I could live in Portland.
Three years ago, give or take a prayer here and an injection there, my lovely wife, Dr. Lisa, and I sat nervously in an examination room in a Houston, Texas, clinic waiting to see Dr. Lance Pagliaro.
Yes, friends, it’s May, which means school is almost out and it is time for my thoughts to drift back to those endless and idyllic days of my childhood summers, in Porterdale.
I have spent most the week down on the Georgia coast, enjoying local seafood and dispelling myths about the founding of Georgia.
I was having a chat with a Porterdale police officer Sunday evening — no, I hadn’t been pulled over — and was showing her where all the businesses had been “back in the day.”
I asked my friends on Facebook to tell me the most fun they had ever had without breaking the law or taking off their clothes and discovered many of them have lived really exciting lives.
I have seldom been as moved at such a function as I was last Wednesday evening when I had the high honor of keynoting the 24th annual banquet to recognize the heroes of the Northeast Georgia District 10 Emergency Medical Service. When I say heroes, I mean heroes.