A harbinger of the New Year has unhappily but inevitably arrived. I was walking around the courthouse square the other day and spied my first glimpse of Crape Myrtle Mutilation. All those lovely trees had been whacked back nearly to the trunk in a January ritual that is as ugly as it is unnecessary.
It happens all over the South. Perched on stepladders and armed with lops, landscapers happily hack away at these lovely trees, cutting the past year’s growth back. What remains are ungainly torsos. Most people apparently continue to believe that, for this loveliest of Southern ornamentals to bloom...
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NEW ORLEANS — A gray-haired man is standing just inside the entrance to the U.S. Freedom Pavilion of the National World War II Museum, located on the corner of Magazine Street and Andrews Higgins Boulevard, in the Warehouse District. Within eyesight is the towering statue of Gen. Robert E. Lee erected in 1884 at Lee Circle. Standing 12 feet tall on a 60-foot column, Lee, arms crossed, forever stares north, as if daring the Yankee troops to attack.
The man at the museum is clearly a veteran, judging from the ballcap he wears identifying his military outfit. He is a volunteer here, and I thank...
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NEW ORLEANS — It is two days before New Year’s Eve, the weather here finally cooling down to what passes for winter in the Big Easy, after a couple sultry days. My Beautiful Mystery Companion, daughter Abbie and I have taken a quick vacation here, thanks to a generous friend who loaned us her condo in the Warehouse District. On our last night before making the 400-mile trek back to East Texas, we have settled down in chairs of a parlor in the historic The Columns Hotel on St. Charles Avenue in the upper Garden District. We await the arrival of two of the city’s best known Cajun musicians,...
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One of my primary responsibilities as a publisher is to sell newspapers. That might appear blindingly obvious to most folks. But on innumerable occasions throughout my four decades in this business, readers upset with a story will say, accusingly, “You’re just trying to sell newspapers.” That always struck me as parallel with telling a car dealer, “You’re just trying to sell cars.” Well, duh.
Now that doesn’t mean we will publish anything. We have standards for libel, good taste, obscenity and relevance. But I can assure you that without fear or favor we are going to publish the news...
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It’s coming on Christmas
They’re cutting down trees.
They’re putting up reindeer.
And singing songs of joy and peace.
Oh I wish I had a river, I could skate away on.
— Joni Mitchell
It is indeed coming on Christmas, ready or not. The other day at Rotary, the Vivian Fowler Elementary School Children’s Choir serenaded the group with Christmas songs. They sang flawlessly and enthusiastically. One little girl in particular danced and gestured with each song, smiling the entire performance. The magic of Christmas really is for children, and listening to them...
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ZEPHYR, TEXAS — As sunset approached, the sky streaked with pastels of orange and blue, and a full moon beginning to rise, the six-man football state championship got underway at Bulldog Field. Zephyr is in Brown County, on the edge of West Texas, in goat country. Seemingly out of nowhere, the stadium lights appeared after our 306-mile drive, which included a couple wrong turns when the GPS tricked me. We pulled into a gravel parking lot, dust filling the air. Zephyr means “gentle, mild breeze,” and wind was ruffling the American flag near the concession stand.
The place felt like the football...
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AUSTIN — We escaped to our favorite Texas big city for the Thanksgiving holiday, to sit in the stands to shiver and watch the Longhorns get slaughtered by TCU — and relax in a condo rented through AirBnB. I had never tried this service, in which owners of private property — condos, houses, even a spare bedroom — list them online for rent. In this case, the owner travels a lot and rents his ultra-hip loft condo on East Sixth Street, which sits practically in the shade of the freeway from Hades — otherwise known as I-35. It was an outstanding location and has made me a confirmed fan of using...
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A year has passed since our family became engulfed in a horrific tragedy. My father-in-law, Harris Teel, was stabbed in the heart two days before Thanksgiving while sitting in a waiting room at the Good Shepherd day surgery center in Longview. Nurse Gail Sandidge died on the scene, and three others were wounded. Mr. Teel — who was 82 and in good health at the time — died nine days later. A suspect awaits a capital murder trial, another ordeal this family will have to face. My wife and her three brothers lost their father; our daughter and her cousins lost their Papa. The one thing I am more...
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I bought a new vehicle several weeks ago, here in Mount Pleasant, another small SUV similar to the Ford Escape hybrid I have driven for nearly eight years. It has 190,000 miles on it but still looks and runs like a new vehicle. I loved that scamp, but it was time to hand it down to our daughter Abbie, who passed her driving test with flying colors and is now legally running around town. It is passing strange to see her head out of the driveway on her way to school in my car. The first time it happened, I thought someone was stealing it but then remembered she had her license.
I changed make...
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Sam and I walked in the early morning darkness the other day after the first blue Norther blew through. I was bundled up against the wind, Sam frisky and tugging against the leash, clearly enjoying the drop in temperatures. Leaves skittered across the pavement, which made a naturally skittish dog occasionally flinch. Even after more than two years of affection and living the good life, Sam still bears psychic scars. He was clearly mistreated before my Beautiful Mystery Companion found him lying up the hill in the street in 2012, with matted smelly fur and a look of resignation in his eyes. He had given...
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