Serving Hohenwald, Lewis County Tennessee Since 1898
Sorted by date Results 1 - 25 of 207
My parents used to talk about the county’s farmers streaming into town on Saturday and shopping until midnight. From my own childhood, I still remember Petula Clark’s then-new song “Downtown” blaring from the radio at my hometown’s first Dollar General Store (located about a block from the public square). During junior high, I sketched a map of all the businesses and landmarks surrounding the courthouse. (You’re right; that venture should have been a genuine chick magnet, but somehow I g...
I didn’t realize a recent CNN story would attempt making me feel guilty about my annual father-son bonding ritual. Each summer Gideon and I cut a series of radio commercials for my day-job employer (the local farmers cooperative), with the intention of having a little fun and, well, SELLING some stuff. (Kids, don’t try this at home. No, seriously. The radio station insinuated the recordings we did at home circa 2011 exhibited the acoustic qualities of a dying calf in a hail storm, so we hav...
For decades, my mother (who was a veterinarian’s assistant during my childhood) gloated about her visit to my third-grade classroom. The dignified Mrs. Shelton accidentally transposed some numbers and Mom quickly corrected her for stating the normal human body temperature is 96-point-8. (With the proliferation of true-crime podcasts, it seems today the normal human body temperature is “room.” But I digress.) And I fondly remember wandering through corn mazes with my son’s elementary school...
My bachelor Uncle Vernon refused to make out a last will and testament. Twenty-one years ago, he passed away unexpectedly. That left his beloved (but decrepit) English Shepherd dog Fred in a pickle. Luckily, my mother volunteered to adopt Fred and care for him in his final years. Things haven’t always worked out that smoothly for pets. According to the Wall Street Journal, it has taken automated prompts by businesses such as Trust & Will (the online estate-planning service) to remind clueless p...
Maybe I have two left feet when it comes to zigging and zagging. But it sure seems the entire world is determined to get in my way. (“Nations must reverse declining birth rates! What if we drop below 8 billion people available to antagonize Tyree?”) I am most keenly aware of the phenomenon at home. The Mills Brothers had it wrong with the song “You Always Hurt the One You Love.” Should’ve been “You Always Crowd the One You Love.” Even with a small family, it seems to require an act of Congre...
That awkward query by presidential candidate Richard Milhous Nixon (on the September 16, 1968 episode of “Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In”) was probably haunting my mind on August 8, 1974. On the afternoon of that fateful day, I tagged along as my flea-marketeer mother purchased antiques from farm couple Gerald and Kate Killingsworth. On the Killingsworths’ TV, the usual game shows and soap operas were interrupted by newscasters speculating about the next move by one Richard M. Nixon, the law-and...
The rhythm-and-blues-tinged 1962 Ray Charles album “Modern Sounds in Country and Western Music.” John Travolta’s mechanical-bull-riding adventures in the 1980 film “Urban Cowboy.” The star-making 1990 “No Fences” album by Garth Brooks. The 2005 Country Music Association Awards show held in Madison Square Garden rather than Nashville. These were all milestones that increased the visibility of country music beyond hardcore fans. Unfortunately, casual country listeners can be as fickle as a h...
Somewhere over the years, karma gave me the finger. It all started with an incident in Mrs. Jones’s high school English class. Classmate Tracy Holder was unconsciously performing multiple animated hand gestures as he delivered an emphatic observation. Unnoticed, I smugly imitated his gesticulations. (That was not my finest hour. The late Tracy was a cool guy, and I would definitely not give my immature younger self an “o-tay” signal for such tomfoolery.) By the time I was producing an exagg...
Just because there are trained professionals dealing with the infrastructure, logistics and marketing of the Summer Olympics, it doesn’t let the rest of us off the hook. To fulfill our obligations as world citizens, instead of just blundering into nearly three weeks of pageantry and athleticism, we should apply critical thinking to the whole phenomenon. But you’re probably way ahead of me. You’ve doubtless pondered why we don’t have Spring and Autumn Olympics. I can just imagine the former...
A recent news development has left some folks scandalized and others envious. (And still others grumbling, “I don’t need no stinking news developments! I’m too busy getting ready to vote!”) I’m speaking of the revelation that former New England Patriots coaching legend Bill Belichick (age 72) is dating 24-year-old beauty pageant contestant Jordon Hudson. (Please hold your fainting spells or “Attaboy!” outbursts until later.) This (and similar situations, including reports that 49-year-old L...
“I’ve been everywhere, man/I’ve been everywhere, man…” - as sung by Hank Snow. I was overjoyed to hear that one of my high school classmates and his wife recently completed their bucket-list project of visiting all 50 states. (Alas, one of the less-studious members of our class stopped agonizingly short of that milestone, declaring, “You can’t fool me! There are only 49 states, ever since scientists decided Pluto isn’t really a state.”) As I researched the 50-state accomplishment, I discovered t...
“Don’t you dare call me without texting first!” blared a recent headline in the Wall Street Journal. Yes, forget about Taiwan and other potential hot spots; battle lines are being drawn over the divisive issue of modern telephone etiquette. (“Plenty of ink for the battle lines, since we didn’t use any codifying the unwritten rules of cellphone etiquette!”) Some combatants are merely miffed or startled (“The call is coming from inside your circle of friends!”) about receiving an unexpected pers...
Some fathers are entirely too serious. They’re paranoid about their children finding out that they had their own youthful indiscretions and regrettable choices. (“I don’t make mistakes. You can ask any of your six stepmoms.”) My late father ‘fessed up to his own errors in judgment, like when he was in the schoolyard and a classmate yelled to him from a second-story window to toss up some of the abundant hedge apples (a.k.a. Osage oranges) that littered the ground. Just as the classmate...
June 7 will be a bittersweet day in TV history, as the final “Wheel of Fortune” hosted by Pat Sajak airs. Sajak announced his retirement plans a year ago, allowing himself time for a VICT_RY L_P, naming of a successor and cleaning all the spare bullion out of the sofa in the dressing room. “Wheel of Fortune” has been like comfort food or an oasis in a chaotic world, so millions of viewers are saddened by Sajak’s departure; but very few were truly caught off-guard by the announcement. The “Whee...
“And when I die / and when I’m gone / there’ll be one child born, in this world / to carry on / to carry on.” The song written by Laura Nyro and most famously performed by Blood, Sweat & Tears may have been overly optimistic. According to the Wall Street Journal, the world is rapidly approaching a tipping point at which the birth rate won’t be enough to keep the population constant. Climate-change prophets are probably jumping for joy (“Darn! I expelled more carbon dioxide; should’ve s...
Yes, I was hunkered down paying rapt attention to the weather report on May 8 when an EF-3 tornado rampaged through a neighboring county. Understandably, I was intrigued by a May 11 “New York Post” article about a technological push to manipulate the weather. Eleven states already maintain “old school” programs of seeding clouds with silver iodide to generate precipitation; but around the world, weather wizards are brainstorming other tactics for dealing with droughts, flash floods and related...
As I sit here admiring my 88-cent container of mustard, I can’t help feeling self-conscious. I know that restaurants advertise their “value menus” and retailers offer no-frills knockoffs of their glitziest products, but I keep picturing the corporate CEOs loathing such concessions as a necessary evil to appease the (ugh!) cheapskate rabble. (“I thought all the franchise owners got the memo to partner with Billy Graham Evangelistic Association and upsell customers the Eternally Happy Meal!”)...
Believe it or not, Woody Allen’s “Annie Hall” makes me think of Mother’s Day. Remember the scene where Allen’s character Alvy was stuck in line at the movies, subjected to the pompous blathering of a pseudo-intellectual? When the topic turned to media philosopher Marshall McLuhan, Alvy handily produced McLuhan himself to put the blowhard in his place. By the same token, it would be great if those of us being accused of a mid-life crisis or being condescendingly told, “Okay, boomer” cou...
The venerable comic strip “Gasoline Alley” is wrapping up a storyline in which the dastardly assistant mayor schemed to change the town’s name from Gasoline Alley to the ostensibly more modern Electric Acres (without even offering a compromise such as Hybrid Hollow). Sentimentality saved the day in the funnies, just as it usually applies the brakes to abrupt municipal name changes in the real world. (“I have no idea which jurist, general or fur trader our town was named for. Neither did my fath...
Bathroom floor tiles that weigh you, analyze your gait and evaluate your fall risk. Bathroom mirrors that initiate telehealth conferences based on your complexion or facial tics. Toilet seats that check your vitals (temperature, heart rate, oxygenation). According to the Wall Street Journal, these marvels (and others -- such as self-cleaning capacities and soothing infrared light) could be commonplace in upscale homes within the next decade. If so -- and if the restraining orders expire so I...
During my career as a late-in-life columnist, I have been blessed with the opportunity to chronicle three birthdays ending in zero. (My so-called “good” cholesterol has not exactly overperformed in helping me reach these milestones. It usually “phones in” its duties, and even then apologizes, “Sorry, driving into a dead zone here” an awful lot of the time.) It’s six years until another “big” birthday; but as a Beatles fan, I have eagerly anticipated writing this essay about the fast-approaching...
A recent Wall Street Journal article provided food for thought about the decibel levels in restaurants. According to the article, in 2023, audio data from the app SoundPrint found that 63 percent of restaurants are too loud for conversation. (Granted, this is a blessing in disguise if the conversation veers toward “SoundPrint? You told me your phone doesn’t have enough space for photos of my trip to the International Lint Museum, but you have room to download SoundPrint????”) My father hated...
You probably have quite a few co-workers with whom you exchange chitchat, banter and superficial observations on current events. (“I fervently believe both Hamas and Putin could be nullified simply by … oooo…fresh Krispy Kremes! Never mind.”) And then there are the “work spouses.” According to a 2006 survey, 32 percent of workers said they had an “office husband” or “office wife.” (That’s about one-third the number who viewed the HR department as their “office mother-in-law,” but tha...
Well, THOSE eagerly anticipated revelations certainly crashed and burned. You may recall that last summer a former intelligence officer told Congress that Uncle Sam maintains a covert stockpile of downed alien spacecraft and corpses. (“Doesn’t he look unnatural?”) But now a wide-ranging report by the Defense Department’s All-domain Anomaly Resolution Office (AARO) declares there is zero reasonable evidence of a secret program to recover dead extraterrestrials and reverse-engineer their technol...
You probably crave a break from my patented “sour grapes” routine, but we must face facts: spring break (a.k.a. Easter break, a.k.a. mid-term break, a.k.a. “unwind, rejuvenate, have fun, but don’t forget how oppressed you are, students”) is not the same for every family. When I was in elementary school, spring break meant making an extra day trip visit to my grandmother, tagging along to another antique shop with my mother or stocking up on books at the library. High school? My job at the conve...