I edit pieces of writing for a living. Freedom of speech is something that's important to me â€” something that's very misunderstood, but something that's important to me nonetheless.
Lately, I've been doing a bit of writing outside of work â€” something I hadn't been driven to do much since I started as the sports writer here at The Spirit â€” and I've developed a few chapters for what I think might be my next book.
Wow, what a week, as I've returned home to Punxsy from the sun, surf and sand in Kitty Hawk, N.C., better known as The Outer Banks.
The whole family went â€” me, Linda, Mike, Joe and his girlfriend, Jennifer â€” along with our two dogs, Bailey, our Scotsin, and Chloe, our miniature poodle that we rescued from the Gateway Humane Shelter.
It turned out the trip down went very well, and the weather was really great while we were there, just what you want â€” hot and sticky, perfect for the beach.
It all started with a little bit of soreness in my joints on Tuesday afternoon.
In all honesty, I was hoping that it was just a change in the atmospheric pressures or something, indicating rain that night, that was causing my pain.
Alas, it was what I expected, and Wednesday morning, I woke up with a case of the sniffles.
Being sick is something that I typically don't look forward to â€” obvious, right? â€” but something that I've gotten used to.
Mother Nature and I have always had what you might refer to as a "love-hate" relationship.
In simpler terms, she seems to love to dole out weather that I hate.
On average, there are about 17 days â€” out of approximately 365 â€” in any given year during which I consider the weather to be a treat. And, that's an estimate on the high end.
Most folks have an "ideal temperature range," in which they're what they would consider comfortable.
I would venture to guess that the majority of folks fall within 10-15 degrees of comfortability â€” my range is about 2 degrees.
Wednesday morning, my sports writers each returned to the office as red as red can be in the face and looking like they'd been hit by a pair of semis after one of the longest days on our coverage calendar â€” Fall Sports Picture Day.
Spring and winter sports are more manageable with fewer teams to take pictures of, but the fall sports calendar is full and booming with activities â€” so many that we are forced to send a pair of photographers up just to get the task completed.
Unless I'm cracking jokes, my weight is not a topic of discussion I like to bring up a whole lot. I'm what most folks would call a "big guy," and I've always been OK with that. But lately, I've noticed that I've even let OK slip away.
Eating, for me, feels kind of like a sick addiction. A nicotine addict has to have a dip or a cigarette â€” it's more than a want â€” but food's a bit different, because we really do need food. I could live a long, healthy life without nicotine, but without food, I'd starve.
Someone told me the other day that "summer is over," which I personally find offensive.
How could someone say such words to me when we haven't even had summertime weather as of yet?
So, I've decided to ignore this announcement, which was based solely on the chilly weather we've had as of late.
When I was child, the words I grew to hate were "back to school sales are going on."
Some things were just meant to go together, weren't they?
We learn this fact from the time we're a very young age â€” and a lot of that experience comes through the portal of our taste buds.
When we are eating our lunches, we crave things that go together. We start dipping things into other things â€” testing the water to see whether or not this goes well with that. I honestly think it's an instinctual reaction; but if not, it's at least one we learn from others very quickly.
The old saying â€” based on the song â€” says that "only the good die young." And while I suppose that's partially true, at least, because I believe we all have at least a little bit of good in us, I've always struggled with that statement.
I think a lot of folks who die young probably aren't what we'd call "good" folks. But on many more occasions than we'd like to face, one of the good ones is taken from us way too early in life â€” in their lives and in ours.
When cancer took my grandpa from us, he was well along in his years â€” not many would have called him young â€” but I remember
So what's the deal with orange juice with pulp? Does anybody prefer it that way? I don't see where chewing my orange juice makes it any more delectable.
I feel that OJ that needs to be run through a Brita filter is something that shouldn't be sold to the public. With OJ with pulp, I feel if I really wanted to, I could reconstruct part of orange from the pieces left behind. Maybe I could use tomato paste to glue it together since they are fellow fruits.