Columnist.
If ever there was a man who needed a peek at heaven, California's Jim Tracy would fit the bill. For the past five years, he has felt his body slowly and cruelly slip away as Lou Gehrig's disease has strengthened its hold but two weeks ago the good Lord gave him a glimpse of what may await in eternity. Tracy, a tremendously-successful cross country coach at a small private high school in San Francisco, first lost the muscle motion in his thumb and then, three years ago, Jim -- an accomplished runner -- could no longer keep stride with the adoring kids he coaches at University High. He has since been diagnosed with amyotrophic lateral sclerosis.
You didn't read much about this after a world-wide television audience estimated to be over a billion people watched it happen but in a minute you'll know why. A little over a month ago, when 33 miners were miraculously saved in Chile, all of us noticed each wore dark sunglasses to protect their sensitive eyes as they were brought out in a rescue capsule.
Last weekend there was a lengthy wire story that appeared in a lot of newspapers across the country about a "Robin Hood" of a character named Johnny Boone, who is every bit as famous for growing marijuana in central Kentucky as the late "Popcorn" Sutton was for making copious amounts of moonshine in upper east Tennessee and around Maggie Valley in North Carolina.
When I was a little kid, this in my single-digit years, I used to love the Saturday Evening Post when its cover would be a Norman Rockwell painting. The minute I'd see one, I race to find Elmer and Belle because I knew they loved the covers as much as I did and we'd ooh and aah over the wonderful brilliance of my favorite painter of all time.
The U.S. Food and Drug Administration, a government entity presumably that works for the betterment of all of us, has now stooped to the very slime and filth it is charged with protecting us against. Earlier last week it was announced the government -- our government -- would soon require pictures of corpses, cancer patients, and diseased teeth be placed on cigarette packages and cigarette advertising.
I want to tell you about three Cappola boys. They are brothers, triplets actually, who love to play football. Two weeks ago, one of them, Tyler, ran for a school record 346 yards and five touchdowns in a 42-35 victory. His team, St. John's Prep, was actually behind, 21-0, at the half but Tyler's five colossal TDs triggered the huge comeback. He also added another 135 yards in receiving and kick returns to finish with 486 yards of total offense in the come-from-behind giant-slaying.
Having just traveled to Washington and back, I'll be the first to say the officers who were at work with the Transportation Security Administration (TSA) at the airports were polite, business-like, and unobtrusive. I also believe, very strongly, that America has grossly over-reacted to the threat of air-travel safety since 9/11 and that nobody needs to "touch your junk" in order for you to fly on a passenger airplane.
America is still "wringing wet" from the political tsunami that we just witnessed in the mid-term elections and, from where I stand, I can easily detect a mix of guarded hope and cautious apprehension among Republicans, Democrats, Tea Party followers and the "others" alike. The right to vote is the American way. It is a crystal-clear part of our freedom. And when the majority in any race picks its winner, there is a deep and abiding trust that accompanies the victory. There is a pledge taken by those elected to dutifully represent us, or at least that's the way it is supposed to work because sometimes those elected take a little different turn.
America was deep in the grip The Great Depression on Dec. 17, 1933. People were not only out of work but many were forced to endure the agony of not being able to feed their own children, of watching a sick kid with no medicine nor even heat to give. So on that memorable day, a 158-word ad appeared in the Canton, Ohio, newspaper that we just now have learned changed some lives forever.
George Washington University in the largest institution of higher learning in Washington, D.C. with more than 20,000 students coming from all 50 states, the District, and more than 130 countries. But the Colonials, where football began in 1890 and basketball in 1906, today have quite a problem, far different than the political swirl currently going on at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. It has just been found out that Kay-Kay Allums, who started in 20 women's basketball games last year and averaged 7.4 points per game, is now going by the name of Kye. That's because Allums has decided to become a man instead of a woman and, as far as anybody can tell, will become the first transgender athlete to compete in NCAA Division I sports this week when the season begins in Minneapolis.
In a nation where the public is now incensed over political chicanery and the way many feel the "crazies are now running the insane asylum," the State of Tennessee reached a new low when the early voting began for the mid-term elections. You see, there is a "trick question" on the ballot.
I've always shied away from riddles, mostly because they confirm I'm not the sharpest pencil in the drawer, but there is one that is pretty famous and was brought to light several weeks ago by a delightful pundit named Tom Henderson.
Shortly before the Wrights Mill Road Elementary School in Auburn, Ala., would welcome its students back from summer vacation, principal Lynda Tremaine was surprised one morning to see a 6-foot-6 goliath of a young man standing in her doorway.
One of the most vivid memories of my childhood, back when I was really small, was the day that two of my brothers and I were riding with my dad and we came around a curve in the road to find a woodcutter whose load had shifted on his truck, scattering his firewood.
Every day this summer, since the opening day of major league baseball, the first thing I do when I read the newspaper's sports section is to check the box scores and find the name of Josh Hamilton. I can tell you, for instance, it wasn't until June 4th that his batting average finally climbed back to .300.
There is a line in the movie "300" that each of us should savor all weekend long because this Monday at the Arlington National Cemetery in Virginia, its words will resonate in a way almost beyond belief. You may remember the film, a fabulous epic from a few years back about the ancient Battle of Thermopylae where King Leonidas and 300 Spartans fought to the death against Xerxes and his massive Persian army.
I am blessed with a wonderful friend who lives in Texas named Sandy Pofahl. He and I adore great stories and, as he does with many people around the country, he shares his warmth with a weekly mailing called "52Best." I'm lucky enough to be on his list.
To any hot-blooded man who has ever nestled in the bucket seat of a flying "rag top" Corvette or upped the throttle to full on a pan-head Harley-Davidson, the song "Free Bird" is the anthem of the open road. Back in the '70s, when singer Ronnie Van Zant would scream at the end of some raucous concert, "What song you wanna' hear?" that really meant, "Grab two more two long-necks because we're fixing to play Free Bird long and hot!"
At one time I sold houses for a living and, believe this, that has developed into a tough profession in this economy. The market is flat and not many people are buying and a lot of my buddies are having to scramble.
