O Say Can You See
I remember before the game, things got very quiet. All 30-odd thousand people rose. The throngs of stadium chairs creaking sounded like the world was splitting.
Americana
My Friend “Mo”
Nothing beautiful has ever landed on me before, unless you count the way local pigeons have sometimes used me for target practice.
Life and All Its Cracker Barrels
I have a story about bad things. The story is about an old man. He lived during in the Great Depression. He was a very poor farmer. His home was a ramshackle shotgun house. He drove a rusted truck that predated the Punic Wars.
Jonathan Livingston Birdy
Two railway track maintainers stood at a distance watching her. Their neon vests, reflecting in the early morning light. Their hard hats pushed upward on their heads. They weren’t sure what to do with the bird.
Alaska: The Work of God’s Hands
A journey through Alaska’s rivers, glaciers, and skies is a living reminder that the God who shaped such majesty also cares deeply for us.
The Dog In My Lap
The little dog beside me is curled into a ball, huddled against me. We are smooshed as closely as we can be without being one person.
Defying Mr. Softee
The award came with a certificate and two presidential-type emblems, one that could be sewed on to a dungaree jacket that was popular at the time and the other, a sticker. It was quite the booty for a Catholic grade school kid who yearly passed the Presidential Physical Fitness test a half century ago.
My War Against Communism: Was it all for Naught?
When I was in the U.S. Army in the 1960s, one of the most persistent exhortations from my superiors was: “The only good communist is a dead communist.”
Waiting for Takeoff
We were sitting on a plane. Awaiting takeoff. I am convinced that if you live wrongly, if you treat your fellow man poorly, if you are selfish, if you are not a good person, you will die and wake up in Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport.
No Offense, Sean, But…
“Dear Sean, your column yesterday about embracing my inner child and childhood was inaccurate. I’m 67 with more life experience than you… And my childhood wasn’t idyllic like yours obviously was…
Inventions Needed
do you ever wonder why SOMEBODY hasn’t invented a device to do this or that? Chuck Klein has a few of those…”this or thats.”
By Hoping Trump Fails, Democrats are in Fact Hoping the Country Fails
As history has shown, the presidency of Dwight D. Eisenhower, which ran from 1953 to 1961, marked a pivotal era in American history. As the nation emerged from the darkness of World War II and faced the escalating challenges of the Cold War, Eisenhower’s policies reflected a prudent balance between progressive innovation and traditional values.
The Kid in You
Dive deep into your brain and locate your mental elementary-school yearbook. Flip through the pages. Find that cute black-and-white photo of yourself with that gap-toothed smile and enormous ears.
“I’m Disappointed in You, Sean”
“Dear Sean, yesterday’s column disappointed me. You cannot be a true believer and believe in ghosts at the same time. God simply doesn’t work that way.
Virginia: Where the Speed Limit Is 55, but the Toll Limit Is Whatever We Feel Like
Welcome to Virginia’s I-66 Express Lanes—America’s first state-sanctioned, algorithm-driven wallet vacuum. You thought price gouging was illegal? Ha! Not if you slap a “traffic congestion management” label on it and let a computer do the dirty work.
The Ghosts of Gettysburg
Gettysburg is a place of ghosts. That’s what they say. This town is known to historians and ghost hunters as the promised land for paranormal activity. There’s the phantom regiment, sometimes heard marching through the streets. There’s the specter of a little girl at the Tillie Pierce House, often heard playing in the other room, …
Why I Love Elderly People
Bobby and I played music before a theater of people at the Vista Retirement Community in Wyckoff, New Jersey. The Vista is a giant cruise ship on land, minus the lifeboats, slot machines, and go-go dancers.
Country Come to Town
We arrived in New Jersey at 5:18 p.m. The first actual New Jerseyan I met was the lady gas-station cashier.
“Will this be oh-WALL?” she asked, ringing up my coffee.
“Ma’am?” I said.
See Rock City Barns
Interstate 59 shot past our windows like a streak of pigeon excrement on a commercial airline windshield. We crossed into Tennessee, heading northward to New Jersey. The radio played Jerry Reed. And I was busy counting barns.
Make America Normal Again
A former Hollywood big name thinks America is “Abby-Normal” right now. I beg to disagree.