President Barack Obama's first two years in office were for the ages: Rarely has so much been spent so wantonly with so little discernible public benefit.
We're ankle deep in January and for some reason I haven't heard much about New Year's resolutions. Usually by this time, I've heard about diets, exercise, yoga, guitar lessons and improved church attendance just to name a few. But this year, it's almost like everything is being kept secret.
In what may well be the single most significant report made to the General Assembly this session, a panel charged with reviewing the state's tax code and making recommendations regarding it will present its findings to legislators and Lt. Gov. Casey Cagle on Monday.
I've gained 12 pounds since my husband's return. Twelve pounds. That means that all of the hard work I put into diet and exercise to impress him lasted for all of that one welcome home night before the effects started to quickly disappear.
Many people are welcoming 2011 with hope and optimism by taking on New Year's resolutions to improve the quality of their lives. Our society has put a lot of emphasis on New Year's - new beginnings and starts, makeovers, new relationships, new cars, habits, weight loss, optimism, achievement and other initiatives for self-improvement. Between 40 and 45 percent of all Americans set New Year's resolutions, but statistically only 8 percent succeed. Maybe that's because people overlook the best resolutions, which focus on improving the quality of our existing relationships.
It can happen to any of us, even here in Richmond Hill. All psyched up and ready for the best of times, meeting people, enjoying the best food and discourse with the best of those you would admire – that was the way it could have been that evening. I can never forget those moments of grandeur, but they were only memorable thoughts, not reality. Coming like a thief in the dark was the reality.
Oh great. Now, the Obama administration is getting involved in public education in Georgia. That's all we need. The deft touch of an inept federal government.
On Jan. 10, Nathan Deal will be sworn in as the 82nd governor of Georgia.
The text of ObamaCare is dry and legalistic, except when it summons the majesty of the King James Bible to intone imperiously, "the secretary shall ..."
I just read where the Department of Homeland Security is giving up on the color code as a way telling us how scared we should be of a terrorist attack on any given day.
Dear editor: St. Francis of Assisi said: "For it is in giving that we receive."
By Dick Yarbrough
By Sen. Buddy Carter
The unemployment rate for people with a college degree or higher is 5 percent. If that were the rate for everyone, it'd be the 1990s again.
"You're glowing," my friend Gina recently told me. "I wonder why. It must be because the hubby is home."
Editor, The following is an open letter on sequestration to Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid, D-Nevada, from retired U.S. Army Gen. Gordon R. Sullivan, head of the Association of the United States Army:
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.
History is fickle with heroic humans, even when they loom over their generation in service to humanity. Even presidents suffer the fickle hand of history, especially when events in their administrations overshadow them. It happened to Herbert Hoover.
Can it be? Is it September already? One of my favorite tunes, "September Song," was written by Kurt Weill and Maxwell Anderson for a Broadway musical in 1938 called "Knickerbocker Holiday." The lyrics could apply today to the current political season in Georgia: "For it's a long, long time from May to December, but the days grow short when you reach September."
By now, most of you have heard about the Ferguson, Missouri, riots, where a young unarmed male was shot by a police officer and died on the spot.
When business called my husband, Tink, back to Los Angeles, he decided to take the opportunity to have his annual check-up. When it ended, he called home.
It was Aug. 30, 1928, when mom was born in Kanawha County, West Virginia, just a year prior to the start of the great depression. Finney Holler is the more exact location of her birth, although it is a little hard to determine exactly where Finney Holler is or was. Not too long after she was born her family moved down the road to Big Chimney; which does happen to be on the map.
Last week, seemingly all the national news agencies reported on the American Academy of Pediatrics' new recommendation that middle and high schools start no earlier than 8:30 a.m. to help ensure older children get more sleep.
Have you noticed how "nostalgia" sells? This hit me like an antique butter churn the other day as I was watching television, and so many of the commercials have incorporated "old rock" music into their marketing spiels. And we can say, "Yes I remember that one!" We might even say, "Hey, that was our song!"