Serving Hohenwald, Lewis County Tennessee Since 1898
Serving Hohenwald, Lewis County Tennessee Since 1898
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Perhaps one reason I never get invited to New Year’s Eve parties is that I tend to overanalyze things. Take Baby New Year (a.k.a. “Bundle of White Male Joy”), for instance. Society’s reliance on this iconic tyke in editorial cartoons, greeting cards and advertising campaigns causes me to lose more sleep than the ball drop in Times Square. Most people blithely accept a half-naked, curfew-deprived newborn galivanting about the countryside unchaperoned; but I see it as one more troubling repercu...
I distinctly remember what I ate for supper on Christmas Eve 50 years ago. Not the entrée perhaps, but certainly the vegetable. My mother served stewed potatoes (“potato slopters,” as she dubbed them). I remember the potatoes because I was passionately reading my newly purchased 25-cent comic book (“Justice League of America” Vol. 1 #96, featuring the JLA versus Starbreaker the Cosmic Vampire) at the dining room table and splashed the food all over it. That damaged comic book still has a place...
Folks are tied up in knots over tying the knot. Just when we thought marriage was a dying institution, the Wall Street Journal cites statistics showing there is a huge pent-up demand for weddings. Because of COVID-19 restrictions, the backlog of ceremonies stretches well into 2024. Competition for venues, accessories and services has generated unprecedented stress. Yes, the wedding industry faces the same supply-chain woes as other businesses. Concerns about merchandise stranded offshore...
My access to news narrowed dramatically when I was 10 years old. My mother’s boss passed away, so I no longer got to peruse his morning paper. And, despite my protestations about prying the funnies from my cold, ink-stained fingers, family budget cuts meant my father could no longer splurge on the EVENING paper. I still had the local gossip grapevine, radio newscasts and TV anchor David Brinkley; but cutting back to just the Sunday edition of print journalism left a vexing information void d...
This may get me on Santa’s naughty list, but I honestly can’t remember whether I watched “The Homecoming: A Christmas Story” when CBS first aired it on December 19, 1971. Since my mother is an antique collector and regales everyone with tales of growing up during “hard times,” and since many of my ancestors came from Virginia, it’s certainly PLAUSIBLE that I got in on the ground floor of Earl Hamner Jr.’s heartwarming classic about the Great Depression. (Granted, being old enough to have...
Last year the media went into a frenzy over the 400th anniversary of the Mayflower’s arrival in North America, but the festivities were just beginning. This Thanksgiving marks four centuries since the 1621 harvest festival held by the half of the Plymouth Colony that survived that cruel first winter. (“Forget corn mazes and hayrides! I’m bobbing for antibiotics!”) What a milestone! Even though our gaiety may be muted by acknowledgment of the injustices done to indigenous peoples since that fa...
Where do you reside on the “holier than thou” versus “holeyer than thou” spectrum? I make only passing reference to squabbles over “proper” church attire in my 2020 motivational book “Yes, Your Butt Still Belongs in Church” (still available in paperback and Kindle formats on Amazon), but the subject is indeed divisive. Between the judgmental churchgoers who second-guess the wardrobe choices of fellow worshippers and the slightly paranoid parishioners who ASSUME they’re under a microscope, uneas...
When my high school classmates obtained a driver’s license, it was not uncommon to hear a teacher opine, “Oh, they must be having a sale at Sears.” Judging by the deplorable examples of road etiquette I’ve witnessed, maybe the teachers weren’t so far off about the low bar set by testers. I have pontificated about slow drivers, speed demons and motorists who think turn signals are the Mark of the Beast; but this time I’d like to vent about intersections. Instructions about right-of-way are readil...
Someday we will all laugh about Halloween 2021. We may be laughing maniacally in padded cells, but we will laugh. I’m sure there’s no need to tell you this (unless you’re living under newspapers instead of reading them); but celebrants this year face a quadruple whammy of runaway inflation, product shortages, labor shortages and vaccine mandates. You know it’s a challenging Halloween when fun-size candy bars become “mildly amused”-size candy bars, homemade costumes are saddled with a second mo...
As a longtime fan of Monty Python’s “Ministry of Silly Walks” sketch, I feel compelled to say a few words on behalf of much-maligned bureaucrats everywhere. Consider the adjectives that get recycled ad nauseum when bureaucrats are mentioned: “faceless,” “unelected,” “anonymous“… Bureaucrats deserve more positive adjectives. Maybe “effervescent,” “trend-setting,” “ready-to-use,” “hypoallergenic.” Unfortunately, new adjectives must be ordered in triplicate and there’s a supply-chain problem with...
If you don’t like my opinions this week, you can take a flying leap…into a pile of festive autumn leaves. (Skip the wet sucker – per Linus van Pelt.) In this great melting pot of a nation, people have many ways of handling leaves. They rake them into a compost heap, bag them and use them as insulation along the foundation of the house, bag them and consign them to the landfill, where they work their methane-generating magic. (“Here – pull my drawstring.”) Some of the more cantankerous homeowners...
One of my many duties at my “day job” is serving as point man for our workplace safety program. Since I have a hair-trigger for gabbing about bloodborne pathogens, bodily fluids, corrosives, and other appetizing subjects, we no longer have a Christmas party or even a holiday party. No, it’s a “Watch out – there may be a pop quiz on lock-out/tag-out procedures for mistletoe!” party. Given my history, I am lucky to be around to fill this position, instead of a pine box. During college I worked in...
According to recent media reports, investors are leaving skid marks as they steer away from the century-old model of selling automobiles. Mom-and-pop dealerships, cagey price negotiations and eye-popping inventories will be left in the rearview mirror as the industry shifts toward consolidation and customers ordering customized vehicles online. Something seems downright un-American about abandoning the time-tested system of distribution and marketing. Two of my classmates had families who owned...
When I worked at my late uncle’s junkyard during junior high school, one of the regular customers (a crusty coot who resembled a cantankerous Roy Rogers sidekick wannabe) assured us that he luxuriated in a steaming bathtub each and every night. We were skeptical, but it still burned in my brain an image of grimy tumbling tumbleweeds popping through the suds. Brrrrr. Anyhow, for the past several decades I’ve taken the uprightness of a daily shower for granted. But a recent social media ker...
In mid-1971, I experienced a most distressing visit to the dentist. A TV fan magazine in the waiting room divulged life-changing news. Irene Ryan (who portrayed Granny on “The Beverly Hillbillies”) told an interviewer she was madder than a wet hen -- because CBS had canceled the beloved sitcom after nine seasons! TV historians regard this as part of the “rural purge” of the early 70s. “Petticoat Junction” and “The Jackie Gleason” show had disappeared a year earlier, and “Bonanza” and ...
Early on the morning of September 11, 2001, I was a newly minted warehouse supervisor for a farmers cooperative. I can remember almost exactly where a customer’s truck was parked when I overheard him telling one of my co-workers something or another about a plane crash up north. A few minutes later, I received an urgent (landline) phone call from my wife. She had been watching NBC’s “Today” and saw breaking coverage of the suicide attacks on the Twin Towers (and other targets). In my first f...
According to the Wall Street Journal, the fledgling online gambling industry is poised to explode in popularity. This season, the NFL for the first time is permitting sports-gambling companies to advertise during games. I don’t envy the precarious position the league has placed itself in. Their balancing act involves delicately rationing the number of wagering commercials per game so they can rake in big bucks -- while stopping just short of alienating the fuddy-duddy NONGAMBLERS in their f...
According to CNN, pandemic fears and enhanced unemployment benefits have left the nation facing a serious shortage of qualified school bus drivers. The problem is acute -- despite districts implementing recruitment campaigns, offering sign-up bonuses, and even fudging on the standards. (“Question one. Fill in the blank: The wheels on the bus go round and…” “Wait, wait. Don’t tell me. I got this. Round and … covered with sprinkles!”) I hope the shortage will make society stop taking bus dr...
The Tyree family recently took advantage of our state’s eagerly anticipated annual sales tax holiday on school supplies, clothing and electronics. Eagerly anticipated as in my wife taking the Charlton Heston role of promoting delayed gratification and leading us to the Promised Land. (“I know you feel like you’ve been wandering around in the same socks and underwear for 40 years, but just wait a few more months and it’ll be worth it!”) We also celebrated a week-long repeat of 2020’s moratorium o...
A 1986 Pantene commercial carried the tagline “Don’t Hate Me Because I’m Beautiful.” Similarly, I must ask my readers, “Don’t hate me because I’ve heard a rooster crow.” I tend to get up at the crack of dawn, even though I eventually encounter a lot of grumpy people who wish they had the energy to SHOW dawn their…well, never mind. Despite working the graveyard shift from age 23 to age 37, and despite an ongoing ability to burn the candle at both ends, I am basically one of those dreaded “mo...
My family took the easy way out -- again. We had our annual chance at a professional portrait and decided to let (insist) son Gideon pose solo for the umpteenth time. Oh, we’ve had three-person portraits before and every once in a great while, I get an updated “mug shot” for this column (amazing how editors can crop out the spear and the wooly mammoth!), but this year we wound up pinning all our hopes on Gideon once more. My wife and I always pledge to do better next time, but we have an unfor...
Life is returning to normal; but where dental health is concerned, normal may not be good enough. According to a report from the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, even BEFORE the pandemic, one-third of American adults under 65 hadn’t had a dental exam or cleaning in more than a year. That is a disturbing statistic. If Annie was correct in singing, “You’re never fully dressed without a smile,” an awful lot of us are going commando. I’m not into floss-shaming; but I conscient...
“Buffets Are Back – With New Policies and Gloves,” blared the headline on page 1 of the June 29 Wall Street Journal. That was welcome news for my pandemic-weary family. I was afraid such wide-open dining would go the way of the dinosaur. (“Look out! The asteroid is headed for the chocolate fountain!” “Mmm…chocolate-covered asteroid…”) I’m exhausted by all the paranoid workarounds of the past year: mile-long drive-through lines, “grab the takeout bag and get out of our lobby, Typhoid Mary,...
If some retro prankster had asked me a week ago, “Is your refrigerator running?,” my reply would have been, “It’s complicated.” (Actually, I would have reported the scamp to the authorities. In these enlightened times, “Is your refrigerator running?” obviously dredges up traumatic memories of the Fugitive Slave Act of 1850. Or something. When you factor in all the Name-Brand-Products-Which-Must-Not-Be-Named that have systemically occupied shelf space in such kitchen appliances, it’s enough t...
“I could search the whole world over/Until my life is through/But I know I’ll never find another you.” -as performed by The Seekers. Five years ago, in conjunction with my 25th wedding anniversary, I was halfway finished writing a 40,000-word book of hard-won marriage wisdom. A few months later, my wife Melissa (the former Melissa Brower, Lewis County High School Class of 1984) proofread the completed manuscript but reserved the right – when time allowed -- to read it from cover to cover a...
