(photo credit: Smithsonian Institution www.postalmuseum.si.edu)

I’m old enough to remember needing to dial only four numbers to call someone. And when Zip Codes weren’t necessary.

Today, everyone requires numbers for everything we do.

Everything.

I’m actually old enough to remember not having a phone at all. I think I was in third grade when dad finally agreed to get one. Once it was installed, it seemed to be something we couldn’t live without.

But before it was put in, we seemed to do just fine. ...

If you grew up in the south, you could tell what your momma was about to make based on the bowl or casserole dish she had sitting on the kitchen counter.

You knew it was meatloaf if it was the long and tall metal pan. If it was a deep cast iron skillet, it was either going to be fried chicken or chicken potpie.

But, if we saw the big, swirly, green glass bowl, we knew were going to have banana pudding. ...

They call them seasons. I think that’s because each adds a specific type of sensory spice to that quarter of the year.

Summer should actually be called, “Simmer.” Winter should be called, “Chiller.” Spring is appropriately named since nature goes from dormant to an awakening that springs flowers into the air and pollen into our nostrils.

All things considered, fall is my favorite. Fall doesn’t seem to want anything from us. It just asks the waiter for the check and heads back ...

Photo Credit: columbophile.files.wordpress.com

Columbo is the best TV detective America has ever had.

That, of course, is my opinion, but I’m willing to speak on behalf of everyone else because I believe that I’m correct.

The Brits have Agatha Christie’s Poirot, and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes.

But I argue that America’s Columbo is far superior.

Peter Falk, of whom I do a pretty spot on impersonation if I do say so myself, (which you can hear if you listen to my podcast version ...