The class we never had

happiness ult
Today I was thinking about the quality (or lack thereof) of my university education.  The reason I majored in journalism was because the line for elementary education was too long, and the line for journalism had only seven takers – all guys.

What I did next was a no-brainer.  I stepped over into the all-guy line and my fate was sealed.  I would become a journalist.  Had a nice ring to it, plus I had a date for dinner before I paid my fees.The girls in the elementary education line are probably still waiting.  (My Mama taught me well.)

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Art of the compliment


I decided not to take my daily dose of Damnitol, so I’m being especially nice on this July morning. I’ve got a challenge for you today – offer at least two people a genuine compliment. Yes, I’ve already chalked up one at the farmers market when I gushed to a farmer over his white eggplants.

It’s been said that a human can live for two months on a good compliment. Me? I can go a year tops, then I start fishing for them.

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Team WPHS competes inTour de Tibbee

me ane marie

Marie and I participated in theTour de Tibbee this weekend.  What a thrill.  Five other classmates from West Point High School participated in other events.

Not unlike the Tour de France, the race was grueling and seemed to last 2100 miles.  In fact, it was slightly shorter – like 2099 miles..

In the final moments there were only two riders left pedaling – Marie and me.  She beat me by a hair when my shoe lace got caught in the spokes and I flipped.

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Afternoon delight


Yesterday was a bad day.  The upper element of my oven caught on fire; my vacuum cleaner began to make a deep slash on my hardwood floor; and there are no vacation plans on the immediate horizon.

My closest friends and I solved that problem by heading to the Everglades for a little R & R.  (At least we pretended that’s where we were going).   Actually, we were in Clay County at the most peaceful place on the planet – Frank Portera’s retreat, which I like to call six flags over Tibbee ( Tibbee Creek for you Yankees.) Continue reading