The fact that I m a wannabe columnist means I pay close attention to the real columnists in this paper. I m one of those boring people who grew up fascinated by sentence structure and the sound of words. You know, the noise words make in your head when you re reading them silently. I particularly enjoy the columns that sound more like a conversation than a stump speech.
She sat in the morning sunlight outside the rented mountain cabin. As bugs called to each other in the dark recesses of the surrounding woods, she wrote deliberately, trying to make sure every word contained the full emotion she intended. Ankle-high fog slowly faded with the gathering warmth.
I can still taste the red dust of Kanis Park though my short-lived baseball career ended 40 years ago. Back then, Kanis was a centerpiece of youth baseball, a hub for recreational activity before kids on travel teams with high-priced gear were a thing.
I ve been in your shoes. As a parent, I ve greeted the first day of school with wonder and excitement, trepidation and worry. It s as if we visit all those feelings that we had as youngsters on our own children. Naturally, it s because school is a transformative time, a period where physical, emotional, and academic growth are profound.
"I can t believe it," a buddy said the other day. He s in his 50s, like me. "I m driving down Rodney Parham and see this track hoe in the middle of the McDonald s on Rodney Parham.