A weed is a plant out of place. A dandelion might be a very desirable plant in my garden if I use its leaves for a salad, but it is not a plant I want in my lawn. If I find it in my lawn nobody complains if I try to kill it.
This past week, The (Brunswick) News featured an online poll on the U.S. Senate race pitting Democrat Michelle Nunn against Republican David Perdue. Neither is experienced in politics but both hail from families that are. Michelle Nunn's father is former U.S. Sen. Sam Nunn, a conservative Democrat, and David Perdue is the first cousin of former Gov. Sonny Perdue, a conservative Democrat turned Republican.
I just learned of a book called, "Say Goodbye to your Southern Accent."
It has become somewhat of an art for me, that of studying Southern culture and deciphering what makes us different from others, as well as downright peculiar among ourselves.
I recently enjoyed a week in my hometown of St. Louis, Missouri, with my family. Usually, when I visit the best city in the country (my own personal opinion there), I only have a few days in which to squeeze in trips to my favorite restaurants, a little rest and relaxation, outings with relatives and an evening or two with old friends. So it was wonderful to have a little more time.
Whistleblowers, often revered and feared by the Obama administration, have received a special place since the 2011 initiation of the Open Government Partnership (OGP), a global transparency campaign. Their prominence is justified. The OGP will become a magnet for cynicism unless there is safe cover for those who will make it work or fail - whistleblowers on the front lines of fraud, waste and abuse currently sustained through secrecy and enforced by repression.
MOULTRIE - The first item in my emails today was: "How to get thin quickly."
For many of us, the word "home" signifies refuge, safety, caring, warmth and love - a sanctuary where we belong. Home is the place that we know is waiting for us at the end of our daily journey into the rushed and sometimes chaotic world. I love coming home in the evening- even if it is a particularly late night, which happens often. The first thing I listen for when I walk in the door is a greeting from my wife and daughter. Nothing beats a "Hey Honey" and "Hi Daddy, how was your day."
Our veterans shouldn't need an act of Congress and a presidential signature to get the Veterans Affairs healthcare system up to speed.
This week's poll on bryancountynews.net asks a simple question.
According to the Federal Register, on Dec. 7, 2009, the Environmental Protection Agency "found" that current and projected concentrations of greenhouse gases in the atmosphere threaten the public health and welfare of current and future generations. Unfortunately, this finding and the EPA's subsequent action threaten the health and welfare of current and future generations of Georgians far more than greenhouse gases do.
Just when you thought Washington couldn't get any messier, our elected officials in the nation's capital prove it can.
Dear Georgia public-school teachers,
Some missing something or the other required me to prowl through closets at Mama's house. That's when I found it. I pulled it out and smiled broadly, warmed by the memories it evoked.
Many objections are being raised about EPA's proposal to cut CO2 emissions by as much as 30 percent by 2030. Such resistance is predictable, reactionary, and completely unjustified.
Remember the story of "The Little Engine That Could"? That could well describe the city of Dalton, a town of some 34,000 nestled in the corner of northwest Georgia, not far from the Tennessee line.
Lately, I've been thinking about the treasure trove that can be found in life's challenging times - the wisdom, the victories, the emotional muscle built and, of course, the stories. As those who know me well often say with a smile, "It's always about the story with her."
I realize, perhaps better than anyone, that it's not polite to ask others about their reproductive plans. I've long ranted about how much it annoyed me when friends, family members and even perfect strangers would inquire about a possible plunge into parenthood. Even now, as most of my readers know, I get aggravated when people ask whether my 2-year-old daughter, Reese, will ever be a sister.