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Paw Paw Goes To College

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                           Me with the Master, Rick Bragg It’s official and it feels weird. So weird, that I dug up my old fraternity jacket to see if it fits. Not even close. I’m sure you are asking why I would do such a thing?  Because after almost a half century, I’m headed back to college - and I do not mean via the computer, aka, “distance learning.” I am actually going back to the campus of the University of Alabama from whence I graduated.  Technically, I’m not enrolling as a student. I’m going to audit a class. That’s a fancy way of saying you get to pay the full price of tuition to sit in the back and listen to someone lecture. I’ll do the work, but I won’t get a grade, which is ok by me. Might’ve been nice to have done it that way the first time I was down there.   The hook for me is the instructor. It’s not just anyone.  The person that’s teaching the course, Advanced Magazine Writing,...

Living On Carol Time

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    " I'm late, I'm late! For a very important date! No time to say 'hello, goodbye,' I'm late, I'm late, I'm late!"                              From Alice in Wonderland  I need to vent, so please don’t judge me - just listen. I’ve got a problem with time. And yes, I know some of you are already muttering, “Duh! Everyone your age has a problem with time - there’s not enough of it left!” Very funny. But my issue isn’t about the sand running out of the hourglass. It’s about my wife Carol, and her complete, unwavering disregard for punctuality. Now, I’ll admit I’m not exactly Mr. Atomic Clock myself. But at least I try. I respect the concept of time. I wear a watch and check my phone. Whenever it’s possible, I try to give myself a buffer so that I’m on time.  That’s because to me, there’s nothing worse than sprinting into an event, apologizing for stepping over people in their seats (who ...

A Letter From My Dog

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  Hey Joe! This is your dog Roscoe.  It’s hard to believe it’s been over 6 years since you picked us up from the side of the highway. That’s a real long time for us, so I thought it might be a good time to tell you exactly what happened.  My sister, the one you call Reese, and I were just a couple of little puppies, who loved to be around our mama. She never said a whole lot about her past except that a very bad person dumped her out on a county road while we were in her tummy.  Lucky for us, a very kind person took her in, let her deliver me and all my littermates, and found everyone good homes - except for me and my sister. We were going to stay with the nice person’s family, along with our mommy. I think that’s called a forever home.  We were so happy. The family even had a little girl who loved to play with us! Everything was great until mama took a walk to explore the woods near our house, and we went along.  We followed our mama everywhere. This ...

Live And Let Dry

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  I stood outside the shower, naked, wet, and confused. That’s because my wife bellowed from the bathroom door, “Hey, stop! You can’t do that!” My first thought was, can I get in trouble for just taking a shower? Apparently. So, I responded by asking the question that any sensible person would ask: “What did I do?” She growled at me like I had put sulfuric acid in the washing machine. “I’ve told you before - do not dry off with our good towels.” During the course of our marriage, we’ve had heated arguments about some idiotic things. And this was shaping up to be another one of them. I didn’t care - I wasn’t willing to let this go without a fight, because I had logic and reason on my side.  Let’s get ready to rumble! Round one was about to begin.  Before the verbal sparring started, I’ll be honest: I have heard her admonitions before. A few weeks ago, she threatened to put sugar in my gas tank when she caught me stuffing one of her precious towels into my gym bag. Than...

A Pain In The Stamp

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  It all began with a trip to an orthopedic doctor to see if he could do something to eliminate my lower back pain. And it could’ve turned into me potentially becoming part of medical history.    Let me explain. After the obligatory x-rays and 40 minute wait in the examination room, the doctor finally came in with the x-rays in hand.   “So where’s the pain?”, he asked.  I responded, “well it began right here.” And I pointed to the left side my lower back, and said it keeps going right along where a tramp stamp would be.” For those of you that aren’t  all cool and hip like me (and don’t have a young daughter-in-law to explain things like this), a tramp stamp is a tattoo that runs the length of the lower back, just above the panty line. It’s actually a quite descriptive and very accurate term.  The physician, a younger chap, exploded into laughter.  “I’ve never, ever, heard that part of your body called that.” he gushed.  “Well, whe...