Columns

No More Emails From President, Beyonce

I feel a bit lonely now that the election is over. My email inbox doesn’t fill up nearly as often as it did, especially in the closing days of the campaign. Entire hours can pass without a new email. Since I spend a lot of time in front of a computer writing and editing, checking email is a regular habit — sometimes too regularly. The first email from someone with quite-the-famous name appeared in my inbox in June. Why in the world is Barack Obama emailing me, I wondered? Others soon followed, from Joe Biden, Michelle Obama, Bill Clinton, campaign operatives, and other famous personages...

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The Finest Season Arrives

The falling leaves drift by the window             The autumn leaves of red and gold  —“The Autumn Leaves,” by Johnny Mercer |———| Out the large windows that grace my study I can see dozens of dozens of trees — mainly red oak, but also maple and pine, pin oak and sweetgum. Larger windows, also unfettered by panes, dominate the formal living room across the hall from the study. There are no bad views from any window in this house. That was its best selling point. We feel as if are living in the midst of an urban park. I guess that makes me both the park ranger and head...

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Our Youngest Daughter Turns 15

We first met on a springtime Saturday for lunch at Pizza King in Longview, home to my favorite pie — the vegetarian with extra jalapeños. She had the cheese pizza. She wore her blonde hair in a ponytail, framing her blue eyes and flawless porcelain skin. I can’t remember what she was wearing, but I recall she was reading a Harry Potter book. It was March 2008. Abbie was 10 at the time. She is the daughter of the woman I fell in love with when I saw her crossing the alley at Green Street, heading to the now-closed coffee shop to make my acquaintance. She was wearing a red raincoat, brown...

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The Dark Side of The Wired World

A 15-year-old Canadian girl committed suicide on Oct. 10, driven to despair by cyber-bullying online through Facebook and emails, and in person as well. Amanda Todd made the sad mistake of sending a semi-nude photo of herself to a man a few years ago. To summarize, he posted the photo online. The bullying made her life a living hell to the point that, after several attempts, she killed herself last week. I hope the creep who started all this is found and goes to prison. As for the cruelty that resulted, well as Springsteen once sang, “I guess there is just a meanness in this world.” It is just...

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The Deer on the Trail Will Remind Me of Archie

Rosie the Wonder Dog and I stopped in the post-dawn the other day. The sun barely peeked over the trees that line the power line right-of-way that cuts along the walking trail. A doe and two fawns grazed about 50 feet away, unaware of our presence. Rosie sat quietly and watched. She is not a barking dog, for which I am grateful. Obedience school worked. She was an A- student. After a few moments we left the deer in peace, enjoying the cool air, the glistening dew, the leaves beginning to turn color. At least I was. Rosie wasn’t saying much. I last saw the deer on the trail several weeks earlier....

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Driverless Cars Already Common Here

California is once again on the bleeding edge of technology. Gov. Jerry Brown signed a law making it legal for driverless cars to ramble down highways, the caveat being for now that somebody has to be in the driver’s seat in case something goes awry. This allows companies such as Google and others to continue to do research on self-driving cars. Apparently states such as California see this as the Next Big Thing in automotive technology. This would free up people work on their laptops while commuting to work, cut down on accidents since all these driverless vehicles would presumably communicate...

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The Fraud About Voter Fraud

I recently subscribed to the Sunday print edition of the New York Times. It now lands with a whomp in the front yard. At least it must, though I haven’t beaten the carrier to the driveway to witness this event. The circulation department offered the print edition for less than I was paying for digital-only access, the fodder of which is required for my modest freelance sideline writing editorials. It takes the entire week to read the paper. Despite the calamity that has struck my former profession, the Gray Lady is still thick enough to kill a squirrel if it lands upon one in the pre-dawn...

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Back to Being the Bums from Beantown

As I write this, the Boston Red Sox made it official: they can finish no better than .500 this season. To do that they will have to win their final 14 games, which appears about as likely as Mitt Romney winning a Friend of the Poor award. The team’s management effectively threw in the towel in August and started dealing off players. Look for more to head to the sale barn when the season ends — as well as the usual sacrificial offerings to the baseball gods of manager Bobby Valentine and other front-office personnel. Heads will roll. After last season’s spectacular September collapse, followed...

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It Is How You Play the Game

The freshman volleyball team clearly was new to the game. The match was a last-minute schedule change. Someone overhead one parent remark that the girls on this squad had never played volleyball until this season. By ninth grade, most girls have competed at least three years, starting in sixth grade. The team came over from Shreveport, an hour’s drive away by car, a bit longer on a school bus. Only a few parents drove over for the 5 p.m. match. The squad contained only six players, the minimum necessary to field a team.  The bench was empty. The team they were playing — on which our daughter...

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Son of Sam Shows Up

I was walking Rosie the Wonder Dog last week along the Boorman Trail, listening to NPR and pining for autumn. The oak leaves have begun to fall in our yard. That is one of the few signs that summer is considering a departure. It will leave, I know, but not soon enough for me. My Beautiful Mystery Companion called in the midst of this reverie and asked where I was. We walk in tag-team sequence now that school has begun. She walks first while I rouse the child, who is slowly adapting to getting up early enough to get to high school in time. I walk with Rosie while my BMC gets ready for work,  then...

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