Jim Headlines
As Tom Petty says, the waiting is the hardest part. But sometimes that wait makes the moment of truth that much more delicious.
I had no way of knowing it was going to be such a brutal summer back in April when I first happened upon the website for this quaint cabin in the mountains above Maggie Valley. I only knew we wanted to go somewhere different – and far away – for our vacation/anniversary week, and we wanted to take our furry four-legged children with us. A family holiday, as it were.
I had no way of knowing it was going to be such a brutal summer back in April when I first happened upon the website for this quaint cabin in the mountains above Maggie Valley. I only knew we wanted to go somewhere different – and far away – for our vacation/anniversary week, and we wanted to take our furry four-legged children with us. A family holiday, as it were.
I will be long gone. Out of sight, out of mind, and not a moment too soon.
It’s vacation time, and when it comes to my time off, I’m very old school. Simply stated, I’m not available. To anyone. For any reason. Period.
It’s vacation time, and when it comes to my time off, I’m very old school. Simply stated, I’m not available. To anyone. For any reason. Period.
I’m reading a terrific book, Craig Nelson’s “Rocket Men,” which is the story of the race to the moon.
The irony that strikes me is, I’m really enjoying turning pages in a great big bard-backed 400 something page tome, not squinting at it on a computer screen, Kindle, or smartphone, none of which we could so effortlessly take for granted if it had not been for the Apollo program.
The irony that strikes me is, I’m really enjoying turning pages in a great big bard-backed 400 something page tome, not squinting at it on a computer screen, Kindle, or smartphone, none of which we could so effortlessly take for granted if it had not been for the Apollo program.
Do you ever get the feeling that we are living in a game show?
It’s pretty easy to see, if you think about it. On TV, the tacky Middle American shlubs spin the wheel or press the button or otherwise cavort foolishly in the hopes of winning some grand booby prize. Soon, they wake up with cruddy prizes they can’t afford to keep.
It’s pretty easy to see, if you think about it. On TV, the tacky Middle American shlubs spin the wheel or press the button or otherwise cavort foolishly in the hopes of winning some grand booby prize. Soon, they wake up with cruddy prizes they can’t afford to keep.
The late, great Will Rogers once said that if there were no dogs in heaven, when he died, he wanted to go wherever they were.
Amen, Will. There is no place worthy of the name “Heaven” that would deign to keep our furry friends outside the gates, pearly or otherwise.
Amen, Will. There is no place worthy of the name “Heaven” that would deign to keep our furry friends outside the gates, pearly or otherwise.
I can remember laughing at my niece and nephew not too many years ago.
We had gathered for the holidays at my mother’s house in Camden. The kids were not quite in their teens, but already enjoyed overloaded social lives. This was a couple of years before it became federal law that every person in America above the age of three had to have a cell phone surgically implanted in their faces, the better to talk during movies, concerts, and funeral eulogies. But the days of rotary phones were long gone. No one had those.
We had gathered for the holidays at my mother’s house in Camden. The kids were not quite in their teens, but already enjoyed overloaded social lives. This was a couple of years before it became federal law that every person in America above the age of three had to have a cell phone surgically implanted in their faces, the better to talk during movies, concerts, and funeral eulogies. But the days of rotary phones were long gone. No one had those.
It’s a loaded question, one that, if you live in the Carolinas, you ask yourself quite a bit as a matter of course. Or maybe not, maybe I just ask myself such things as a matter of course because I’m one of those weirdoes who likes to talk to himself.
Nonetheless, I have a difficult time deciding such things. I’m naturally drawn to – and have spent a good portion of my life near – the ocean. I love the waves, the rhythm of the sea, the textured pastels of water and sunlight meeting at world’s end. I love the feeling of warm sand and cool breeze and hot sun and cooling waters. Dolphins at play in the spring and panicked bait fish exploding from turbulent waters in the fall.
Nonetheless, I have a difficult time deciding such things. I’m naturally drawn to – and have spent a good portion of my life near – the ocean. I love the waves, the rhythm of the sea, the textured pastels of water and sunlight meeting at world’s end. I love the feeling of warm sand and cool breeze and hot sun and cooling waters. Dolphins at play in the spring and panicked bait fish exploding from turbulent waters in the fall.
So I was reading this article the other day about UFOs. It was pretty funny – obviously the writer is not a believer in flying saucers and crop circles – and he snarkily derided everything from the Roswell incident to the Hill kidnapping. But what I found truly amusing was the number of comments castigating the writer for expressing such heresy.
Nearly all the faithful believe – with the exact same fervor of the average Jihadist – that aliens walk among us and anyone who believes otherwise should be shackled to a Barco-lounger and forced to watch that great documentary, “Men in Black.”
Nearly all the faithful believe – with the exact same fervor of the average Jihadist – that aliens walk among us and anyone who believes otherwise should be shackled to a Barco-lounger and forced to watch that great documentary, “Men in Black.”
Ah, summer holidays! Time once again for that most holy of holies, the family vacation.
I think the word vacation is derived from two ancient Etruscan words, “vay” – a long journey – and “cation” which, loosely translated, means, “to the far side of hell.”
I think the word vacation is derived from two ancient Etruscan words, “vay” – a long journey – and “cation” which, loosely translated, means, “to the far side of hell.”
Occasionally, there are times when one just runs out of things to say.
That’s not necessarily a bad thing. After all, Confucius, or was it Mark Twain, said, “It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to open your mouth and remove all doubt.”
That’s not necessarily a bad thing. After all, Confucius, or was it Mark Twain, said, “It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to open your mouth and remove all doubt.”
Remember that early 80s movie “Top Secret?” It was a sleeper, brought to us by the zany folks who made such masterpieces as “Airplane!” and “Kentucky Fried Movie.”
Here was a classic line:
Here was a classic line:
I never thought I would ever see a man and woman arriving at and departing from the opera on bicycles. Yet there they were, he in a seersucker suit and tie, she in a long evening dress. They chained their bikes to a lamppost in front of the theater and sashayed inside. When it was over, they got on a pair of what looked like matching Red Rockets – the bike Pee Wee rode in the classic yet somehow Oscar snubbed, “Pee Wee’s Big Adventure” – and pedaled off into the night, presumably to the next show.
I never thought I would ever see such a sight, largely because I never dreamed I would have found myself at the opera, either, at least not willingly.
I never thought I would ever see such a sight, largely because I never dreamed I would have found myself at the opera, either, at least not willingly.
I have a picture – probably my favorite of my parents – that sits on my desk in my office at home.
It was taken probably in 1960 or so, the evening of the West Point Founder’s Day Ball, and in it, my parents and their best friends – known to we urchins as “Uncle Ed and Auntie Fran” – are posing before going to their soirée. Dad and Uncle Ed, clad in dress uniforms, are captains in the U.S. Army; strong, handsome, ready to handle whatever the future holds. Mom and Auntie Fran look beautiful in their evening dresses and long gloves.
It was taken probably in 1960 or so, the evening of the West Point Founder’s Day Ball, and in it, my parents and their best friends – known to we urchins as “Uncle Ed and Auntie Fran” – are posing before going to their soirée. Dad and Uncle Ed, clad in dress uniforms, are captains in the U.S. Army; strong, handsome, ready to handle whatever the future holds. Mom and Auntie Fran look beautiful in their evening dresses and long gloves.
Ah, late spring/early summer.
The nights are still cool, the days heat up, the mosquitoes start to swarm and the flies provide untold hours of amusement for my dog.
The nights are still cool, the days heat up, the mosquitoes start to swarm and the flies provide untold hours of amusement for my dog.
You just have to love the Social Security Administration.
In these times of vociferous, vituperative complaining about government waste – and I am right there with those who want to throw all the bums out – along comes the SSA’s annual “Most Popular Baby Names in America” list.
In these times of vociferous, vituperative complaining about government waste – and I am right there with those who want to throw all the bums out – along comes the SSA’s annual “Most Popular Baby Names in America” list.
One thing that’s kind of depressing about finding yourself a couple of decades out of college is the realization that spontaneity is more of an enemy than an adventure.
Not too long ago a simple trip to the store –probably a beer run – more often than not would result in a road trip, destination and duration unknown. The possibilities were endless and welcome. Now it seems I can’t get out of the house without a checklist and itinerary approximately the size and scope of the average multi-national military campaign.
Not too long ago a simple trip to the store –probably a beer run – more often than not would result in a road trip, destination and duration unknown. The possibilities were endless and welcome. Now it seems I can’t get out of the house without a checklist and itinerary approximately the size and scope of the average multi-national military campaign.
Next time someone tells me that, I’m going to reply ever so blithely, “I wish.”
That’s because after seeing Nadia Petrova blast 120 mile per hour thunderbolt serves all afternoon at the Family Circle, I realize once again that there are quite a few women who, quite frankly, kick major butt. Far more than many guys probably know.
That’s because after seeing Nadia Petrova blast 120 mile per hour thunderbolt serves all afternoon at the Family Circle, I realize once again that there are quite a few women who, quite frankly, kick major butt. Far more than many guys probably know.
Good for Phil Mickelson!
The man turned in a flawless performance at the Masters, making the impossible look easy and the routine look reflexive. Congratulations, Mr. Mickelson for a fine performance, indeed.
The man turned in a flawless performance at the Masters, making the impossible look easy and the routine look reflexive. Congratulations, Mr. Mickelson for a fine performance, indeed.
Wow! What a change!
After all of these long and frigid winter months it’s nice to see flowers in bloom, brilliant emerald grass, hardy weeds strangling those delicate bulbs you so carefully planted and fought squirrels away from last year, and the all-encompassing and omnipresent layer of yellow powder covering every square inch of this planet and everything on it.
After all of these long and frigid winter months it’s nice to see flowers in bloom, brilliant emerald grass, hardy weeds strangling those delicate bulbs you so carefully planted and fought squirrels away from last year, and the all-encompassing and omnipresent layer of yellow powder covering every square inch of this planet and everything on it.
Is it just me or are scam artists getting a lot more creative these days?
Every day I run across yet another scheme to separate many desperate fools from their money. At first it’s amusing, then it’s sad, then it’s scary.
Every day I run across yet another scheme to separate many desperate fools from their money. At first it’s amusing, then it’s sad, then it’s scary.
Hi, there.
I just want you all to know that I love you, each and every one of you. You are all like bits of sunshine and flowers and rainbows. You’re all so … beautiful!
I just want you all to know that I love you, each and every one of you. You are all like bits of sunshine and flowers and rainbows. You’re all so … beautiful!
Yikes! It’s time for another family reunion.
Among other things, this will mean numerous fruitless attempts to recognize children of people I haven’t seen in awhile.
Among other things, this will mean numerous fruitless attempts to recognize children of people I haven’t seen in awhile.
I remember my first time. It was just like yesterday.
No, more like Thursday, actually. That’s when it finally happened.
No, more like Thursday, actually. That’s when it finally happened.
Whoever said money couldn’t buy happiness either never had it or just took it too seriously. With enough money, you can, in fact, buy a lot of happiness, or rather, peace of mind, which is a very clearly marked and well-paved route to happiness.
You just have to do it right.
You just have to do it right.
The story you are about to read is true. In fact, I’m astonished I’m still around to write about it. It’s funny how a passing decade turns a nightmare into a fond memory. Sort of…
Mike cranked into a high octane riff, that Marshall JCM 800 stack screaming like a wounded banshee. I came in right behind him on the dual guitar lead break, my trusty old Carvin Blues Tube roaring right under Mike’s ball peen hammer-like riffs.
Mike cranked into a high octane riff, that Marshall JCM 800 stack screaming like a wounded banshee. I came in right behind him on the dual guitar lead break, my trusty old Carvin Blues Tube roaring right under Mike’s ball peen hammer-like riffs.
One almost never sees a snowman standing next to a palm tree.
So I am glad to report that I have, in fact, witnessed such a phenomenon. Even took a picture of it.
So I am glad to report that I have, in fact, witnessed such a phenomenon. Even took a picture of it.
There’s something telling about a person who watches the Super Bowl largely for the commercials rather than the game. It’s probably not very flattering, though, so I’m not going to admit to that right here.
Nonetheless, it is astounding how one sixty-minute football game has become such a lengthy, glitzy, over-the-top affair, to the point where the game is actually secondary to the rest of the show.
Nonetheless, it is astounding how one sixty-minute football game has become such a lengthy, glitzy, over-the-top affair, to the point where the game is actually secondary to the rest of the show.
As Dirty Harry once said, “Man’s got to know his limitations.”
Mine appear to be plumbing and electrical work. And carpentry. And tile. And…
Mine appear to be plumbing and electrical work. And carpentry. And tile. And…
By the time you finish reading this, you may very well want to check into the nearest padded hotel, if not murder me in my sleep.
It’s time once again to exorcize a few demons and the only way to do that is to write about them. Then I can go to sleep, confident that while I still have them, at least now so do you.
It’s time once again to exorcize a few demons and the only way to do that is to write about them. Then I can go to sleep, confident that while I still have them, at least now so do you.
Sitting in a battered, ancient blue shoebox rests a packet of letters, cards and notes from years I tend to relegate, like the box itself, to some corner shelf in some basement closet of my mind.
Periodically, I run across that box, maybe during a spring-cleaning, maybe while in search of some completely unrelated item. Each time I find it, I blow off the dust, lift the lid and take a stroll down the years.
Periodically, I run across that box, maybe during a spring-cleaning, maybe while in search of some completely unrelated item. Each time I find it, I blow off the dust, lift the lid and take a stroll down the years.
So I read where a New York woman is suing a bar she was in because a stuffed moose head fell on her. She says she has suffered injuries and lost wages because of the nose-dive ol’ Bullwinkle took after happy hour.
Sounds ridiculous, eh? Yet another reason why we need tort reform in this country, right?
Sounds ridiculous, eh? Yet another reason why we need tort reform in this country, right?
I swore off making New Years Resolutions years ago.
Back in the day, making promises I knew I couldn’t keep seemed preposterous, if only because I would be providing even more cannon fodder for all the nay-sayers who would rub their hands in gleeful anticipation of yet another chance to call me on all those unrealistic, unkeepable promises.
Back in the day, making promises I knew I couldn’t keep seemed preposterous, if only because I would be providing even more cannon fodder for all the nay-sayers who would rub their hands in gleeful anticipation of yet another chance to call me on all those unrealistic, unkeepable promises.
It could have been an unmitigated disaster.
It turned out to be one of the most rocking parties Fort Bragg had ever seen.
It turned out to be one of the most rocking parties Fort Bragg had ever seen.
One thing I’ve noticed this year: Good economy or bad, holiday hustle doesn’t slow down although it may get a little more creative.
Or does it?
Or does it?
There’s a quaint old rhyming couplet I’m fond of quoting every now and then. It goes something like this:
“A little bird with a yellow bill sat upon my window sill,
“A little bird with a yellow bill sat upon my window sill,
