Behold, brothers and sisters! I bring you good tidings of great joy … and comfort! Seersucker season is back, at least for those of us who live south of the Sweet Tea Line!
When I was a child, Easter Sunday always began in darkness. And it always ended in sunlight.
My mother would awaken me dark and early on Sunday morning long before sunrise. I would put on the Sunday clothes she had laid out for me. A white sports jacket. White dress shirt. A colorful bowtie. Black pressed trousers and black shoes my father had shined on Easter Eve.
JUPITER, FLORIDA: I am at this very sunlit moment sitting in one of my favorite places on Earth, Roger Dean Stadium, winter home of my beloved St.Louis Cardinals. It is 83 degrees, and there is not a cloud in the sky. If Heaven is better than this, it must really be something.
We are now living in the era of fake news. If you don’t believe it, you obviously did not watch the telecast of the Academy Awards ceremony on Sunday night.
In the spring of 1973, I was an undergraduate majoring in Football Appreciation at the University of Tennessee. Like a lot of college students, I skipped several classes that spring, and I’ve got the transcript to prove it.
But I didn’t cut class in May of 1973 to throw a Frisbee or to enjoy springtime in the mountains of East Tennessee.