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Remember When

  • I never run out of things to do

    The British Broadcasting Corp.

  • Simpler time not so simple

    As I get older – or maybe as I grow mellow – the bad stuff that happened during my childhood just doesn’t seem worth recalling.But it did happen, like when I occasionally got my britches dusted.And at one time, I figured I owned the world record for sitting through lectures while staring down at my shoe tops.Having sisters and brothers pays off. It seems that everybody I knew had a couple of brothers and sisters as an added layer of insulation during troubling times.I wasn’t as lucky.

  • Bible school is OK, but I'd rather ring the bell and run

    No sooner had the final school bell rung for our last day at Chesterfield Avenue Grammar School, the bell at First Baptist Church peeled, summoning all of us to Vacation Bible School.Mama said most folks thought it best to start “Bible school” just as soon as regular school let out while “you children haven’t forgotten how to be nice and calm.”Nowadays, there is a difference of opinion when it comes to Bible school, or VBS, as many choose to call it.A lot of churches schedule Bible school smack dab in the middle of the summ

  • Horton pulls off an egg-citing street trick

    A crowd had already gathered down at the Corner Drug Store.Something was going on.

  • Mr. Albert a filler, not an emptier

    Features editor Greg Summers recently called the house and asked if I had a column in mind for Father’s Day. I guess Spam can only stretch so far.Last year, I wrote a tribute to my Dad who shared 39 years with me before his death. I told Greg even if I wished for it, I couldn’t add much more to what had written.Leave it to me to speak a little too soon; What in the world was I thinking?Come to think of it, I was blessed with two dads, one was biological.

  • Spam cans now back in style

    These days, I constantly stay at odds with movers and shakers, snobs and those who consider themselves as “politically correct.”Now don’t get me wrong – if you’re comfortable wearing your glasses cocked up on the top of your head – so be it.If you didn’t get enough well water as a youngster and find it necessary to tote around an expensive brand of spring water, that’s your business.But if you must talk on that bluetooth ear deal while driving by my house or strolling through the mall, I’d appreciate

  • Lazy bugs infest my La-Z-Boy

    It’s sad that environmentalists only want to protect things like Carolina Heelsplitters.I could use their help right now; I’m on the verge of being endangered, too, and I have Mother Nature to thank for it. According to my wife and a bunch of her girlfriends, our recent thundershowers and pollen have unearthed another critter which is disrupting households from the Panhandle to Boonetown and most places in-between.One of them found a cluster of small eggs nestled in the cushion of her husband’s La-Z-Boy recliner. S

  • Stoking the stove lands me in hot water

    Golly, the gas bill came yesterday. I didn’t think we had that many cold days in April, but the bill was still a little steep.It must be the overall gas price increase, I reckon.In glancing through the morning paper, it’s apparent that folks are up in arms over high gas prices.The news isn’t very good today.

  • Phoenix to rise at air show

    Legend has it that the magnificent phoenix arose from ashes to shine again.Over at Lancaster County Airport on the “Rock Hill Road,” plans are in place for a special air show Saturday and Sunday. If we don’t have our usual weekend rainstorm, the Palmetto Thunder Airshow will offer young folks an opportunity to view some of our military planes of yesteryear and today. Yes sir, that phoenix is about to arise. Now, I’m not trying to hawk tickets or convince you to spend an enjoyable day around airplanes and

  • Poking fun of front porch nappers can haunt you later in life

    Growing up, I could never refrain from making glib comments about the things I saw.

    Several years ago, I made what I perceived to be, some cute remarks about Uncle Walter’s frequent snoring bouts in his front porch rocking chair.

    He would sit there with his eyes shut tight, drooping head and wide-open mouth sleeping away.

    More than once, I secretly wished that a housefly would glide in his open cavity with the precision of the B-17 Flying Fortresses from the movie reels that made it back to England after a successful bombing mission over Germany.