Where There Is A Will

I was driving to buy the morning paper when I noticed movement ahead. As I drew closer, I realized it was a dog. An English Setter, wandering aimlessly in the middle of the intersection. Cars swerved, horns blared, and her eyes were wide and lost.

I stopped my vehicle at the red light, opened the passenger door, and called, “Come on, girl.” She climbed right in. She was panting and flustered, but her coat was clean and freshly brushed. This ...

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Doodlebug Doodlebug

“Doodlebug, doodlebug, come out of your house. Your house is on fire and your wife has gone South.”

I have no idea who first taught my sister and me that saying, but I don’t remember a time when I didn’t know it.

We were shown how to take a small twig or broom straw and stir the doodlebug house until the sand walls caved in. That caused the bug to kick sand out from the bottom, little legs churning like mad. Of ...

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The Naturals

Robert Redford was a movie star. At a time when movie stars deserved the title.

Unlike most celebrities today, who pollute their brand with their ideologies, Redford was tepid in that area. He was obviously left, as evident in the roles he chose later in movies such as The Milagro Beanfield War and The Legend of Bagger Vance.

But with the wisdom Johnny Carson also possessed, Redford was wise enough to focus more on selling movie tickets than making his own, constant ...

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Disconnecting

Before cable television, the Internet, and social media reshaped how we spend our free time, entertainment in the South during the 1960s and 70s was rooted in community, creativity, and the great outdoors. We filled our days and evenings with activities that cost little but created lasting memories, bound tightly to family, neighbors, and the rhythms of nature.

Church was the heartbeat of social life. We looked forward to revival meetings, choir practice, and youth group gatherings. One of the most ...

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Labor Pains

Hard work has a way of shaping a person that no shortcut or modern convenience can replicate. In an era when many of life’s daily tasks have been automated, it’s easy to forget the lessons hidden in a long day’s labor. Yet the lessons of discipline, patience, and resilience are precisely the ones that give life a deeper sense of purpose and fulfillment.

That’s true for most folks who grew up in the South during the 1960s and 70s; a time ...

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Reel Interesting

Growing up, movies weren’t just a Saturday night diversion. They were lessons, warnings, and often, thanks to amazing writers of the era, meant to make us think.

Hollywood was turning out stories that carried more weight than Flash Gordon and other serials of the 1930s. And for a boy like me, sitting in Williams Theater in Ashdown, Arkansas, those films shaped the way I thought about just about everything.

What I didn’t realize until years later was that these movies weren’t just ...

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Styling

Outliving your hairstyle seems to happen to a lot of folks. Ducktail cuts, shellacked pompadours, bouffant hairdos that could hide an aircraft carrier, and especially mullets, should be shelved and forbidden. Punishment for wearing your hair in any of these forms should be home confinement for 90 days with nothing to watch but reruns of Dr. Phil.

The 60s and 70s in the South served as fashion laboratories. In Ashdown, Arkansas, where I was raised, one of the most common sights ...

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Making A Dash For It

When long hair was hot, the measure of male teenage coolness in the 1970s, was the sound system in your ride.

Your car could burn oil like a cheap lawnmower, but if you had an 8-track under your dash, an equalizer next to it, and 6×9 speakers booming in the rear deck, you had arrived.

But funding such an operation required diversification.

Saturday morning started with a push mower and a can of gasoline. Mowing lawns was the main way I scraped together ...

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Room and Bored

There was always one room in every Southern home that was no man’s land – the parlor. Some called it the sitting room, while others called it the drawing room. It contained the nicest furniture, fresh flowers in the window. And it was the most boring room in the house.

I don’t know why it was called either. We weren’t allowed to sit in it, and drawing was definitely out of the question. If we’d gone near the room with crayons, ...

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When It’s Time To Go Home

I grew up in the far southwest corner of Arkansas. Nature drove the speed of life, and the towns breathed at an unhurried pace. Even now when I return there, the clock seems to slow and things just don’t move as fast.

The countryside in between each community was stitched together by gravel roads and pasture land. You could drive for miles without seeing anyone, but when you did, they weren’t a stranger.

For all who grew up in a similar setting, ...

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