My Hometown USA

  Are you ready for some football? I can hear back in the day…Bocephus sing it now, “Are you ready for some football?” The answer is an enthusiastic—and possibly unhealthy--YES! Sports are a big part of American life. But when the midsummer blues set in and thunderstorms send us indoors, I find only mild satisfaction in televised baseball, tennis tournaments and promotions for the upcoming fall season. My life is empty. No football. Woe is me. Why do so many of us love sports? Why do some take it to levels of pure obsession? We pour our passion into the game, the team and all the hoopla around the season. Sometimes sports provide the excitement and drama missing from our otherwise ordinary, routine lives. Unfortunately, that passion can also jeopardize our most intimate relationships, causing the man (in most cases but not always) to leave the marriage bed for another mistress -- the team. He eats, sleeps and drinks everything sports. He ignores his Honey Do lists, hi...

When Attention Becomes Addiction   Some of us are born hams… I love an audience. Telling stories. I enjoy making people laugh, and I wouldn’t mind going viral—as long as it was for something clever and not because I fell off the porch while throwing a tortilla at a deer. But others prefer the world not notice them at all. I married a man who doesn’t crave attention and our kids do not enjoy it either. Their anxiety goes up when we go out in public…they never know what I am going to say or do. To keep order when they were young, I would not threaten whippings, or grounding, but rather, “Don’t make me sing Broadway!” It worked wonderfully. Only one spontaneous performance that I can remember. They are in the minority when you look at this generation. With technology we have created a new addiction-- Attention. Folks are addicted…to likes on social media To performing for TikTok audiences Getting subscribers To being seen…followed, subscribed, and friended We are inviting the world to...

Granny's freezer and antique peas ! Many years ago, a tragedy occurred at my in-laws in Mississippi. Granny's freezer died. Thanks to Hurricane Katrina But it was a second occurrence in a three-year period. Once because it was old and once because of Hurricane Katrina. It has devastated years of collecting frozen foods such as antique peas and vintage deer parts. As Southerners, we understand the culture of the country freezer, but for the younger generation of our day the only reason to have a freezer is to store stuff bought at Costco. Knowing the importance of watching their pennies, the in-laws mourned the need to spend hard earned cash for another large, deep freezer. But in Granny's mind she could not do without one. It only took three months before the deep freezer was full again -- lost was the antiquity of the new collection, but she was secure that the giant cavern was filled.   The ideal behind the freezer is to store mass amounts of food and save m...

Blessed Are the Keyboard Warriors... Said No One Ever First, just because you say you’re a Christian don’t mean you are…. There are many clones out there giving the authentic ones a bad name. However, even a true Christian can be mess up, sin, or act ugly or be mean on Facebook. When I see a headline story that catches my interest, my guilty pleasure is to head to the comments section! And oh my…what people say behind the curtain! That is temptation valley! Get thee behind me Facebook! Opinions dripped with judgment, harshness, and condemnation. And the saddest thing of all? Self-professing Christ followers… attacking another Christian. Viciously typed words compelled to rip people to shreds in order to prove their view. To show how knowledgeable they are. Most disturbing of all, they felt it was their duty to prove you wrong. It was watching Christians trying to win an argument while losing their witness. Blessed are the peacemakers. Not: Blessed are the last...

  Highway to Hell It's vacation season in America, which means millions of families are loading enough luggage to survive the apocalypse into an SUV designed to hold groceries. Dad swears he'll "make good time." Mom packs enough snacks to feed a minor league baseball team. The kids begin asking, "Are we there yet?" before the neighborhood is out of sight. Somewhere in the back seat, somebody forgot to charge an iPad. And just like that...the vacation has officially begun. Every summer we convince ourselves that spending twelve hours trapped inside a metal box with the people we love most is a recipe for making memories. It is. Some of those memories require therapy. No, not everyone dies on vacation, and somehow many wonderful experiences accidentally happen which we record on video and innumerable photos. The family looks back years later and forgets all the fights, the disappointments and the time Dad forgot underwear. You should be mindful of the dangers ...

  I love the smell of ink in the morning One of life’s pleasures use to be leisurely waking up in the morning, cradling a great cup of coffee and plunge into a fat newspaper. Those days are gone. Newspapers can’t compete with the information highway of internet and instantaneous news gratification. By the time I pour my second cup of coffee, I've already heard about three shootings, witnessed four political pundit meltdowns, listened to the announcement of two celebrity divorces, watched a police chase and somehow know my neighbor's cousin is mad at her hairdresser. Sadly, no one needs a newspaper anymore. Today’s youth have tech savvy gadgets, some never perusing a newspaper, not even to cut out a current event for a school project. Our next generation immediately wake up to a soul sucking power drawing them into the screen like a Twilight Zone episode. Students used to look for their name or photo in the local newspaper, recognizing their achievements at school or sports, and...