October 25, 2016
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I’ve been a fan of the NFL since those wintry Sunday afternoons in the early 1950s when I watched frigid televised football games with my dad in Fort Wayne, Indiana.
Five years ago, I walked into my first Territorial Days pancake breakfast here at the Chino Valley Senior Center.
The innocence of childhood is a wonderful thing.
One of the most consistent joys I’ve experienced over the years has been insulting folks I know and love.
As I mentioned in a recent column, my wife and I are closely following the Arizona Diamondbacks this season.
My sister visited us from Sun City Grand recently.
This column is meant as a tribute to Bert, but it’s come too late for him to read.
I’m not sure this column has ever had a real purpose, but today’s investigative reporting intends to clear up the issue of … ambrosia.
I strive to maintain dignity on a daily basis.
The Chino Valley Morning Lions Club is at it again. On Sept. 2, the Morning Lions will sponsor the 31st Annual Territorial Days celebration complete with a parade, a pancake breakfast at the Senior Center, a raffle drawing and a craft fair in Memory Park.
I’m amazed by the number of gear heads and classic vehicles in and around Chino Valley.
I just watched a YouTube video of Admiral William H. McRaven talking about life-lessons learned in the military.
As many Americans were anticipating the Civil War, a game called rounders was invented.
The subject of today’s public service column is…Museums.
In the July 10, 2016 issue of this newspaper, I wrote a column about Norma Jean Bennett, better known as Birdie.
This column accomplishes a publishing feat never before attempted in this part of the country. I’m going to introduce two high-profile personalities in the entertainment world to you, then I’ll tell you how they were connected even though they never met.
My wife and I recently talked about the things we did in our earlier lives long before we met 12 years ago.
I’ve never been one to collect things just for the hell of it, but maybe I should start.
In 1731, Benjamin Franklin and a few of his friends founded a book club called the Junto.
This is another one of those columns in which an old guy laments that at least part of the past … is past.
June 16, 1953, was a sultry summer day in Fort Wayne, Indiana.
OK. This time we’re moving to Chino Valley. Really.
I first met brother-in-law Bob in 1963 when I was 17 years old.
It might be time to do a movie. No, I don’t mean to see a movie, I mean to make my own.
It’s the middle of the night on June 17, 1972. Burglars have broken into an office complex and into files secured therein.
When you buy a product you can usually purchase a warranty to ensure that it will do what it’s supposed to do for an extended period of time.
When I started writing this column a little more than three years ago, my primary focus was to poke fun at my fellow citizens and myself for the frequently illogical ways in which we live.
Once upon a time, Americans were tough. They put their lives on the line to settle an untamed land. Enough survived through their individual efforts to birth a nation.
Caution: Pets under two and children under 12 shouldn’t be exposed to this column with — or without — adult supervision.
I woke up the other day only to realize that we’re closing in on yet another new year.
I have been unafflicted by neckties since I retired some years ago.
Back in November of 1859 a fellow by the name of Charles Darwin published a controversial book that attempted to explain where various forms of life, including you and me and your Aunt Hilda, came from.
I’ve never spent much time thinking about kitty litter since I’ve never owned a cat.
Environmentalists have warned us for decades about our sinful ways. Such as using chemicals to control weeds and insects.
Most of us remember dearly departed pets from our childhoods.
Hiram was born in Point Pleasant, Ohio, in 1822. His father, Jesse, had always assumed that his son would one day join him in his tannery business.
I’ve documented in past columns how men differ from women.
I can’t say I ever enjoyed filling out forms — especially government long forms. But I long for the days when completing even official documentation was relatively stress-free. The earliest government form I probably ever had to complete was for Social Security. I launched my meteoric career as a cashier for a grocery chain back in Ohio in the 1960s. Providing required personal information under the threat of imprisonment and social ostracism (if I didn’t) was a lot easier in those days. I wrote in my name, address, birth date, phone number and gender and the paperwork was pretty much done.