The old question, “Where would you go first if you had a time machine?” is an easy one to answer for me. I’d visit all of my favorite long-since-gone childhood cafes, diners, and restaurants.

Not all, but one stop may soon be possible, without the help of H.G. Wells.

Growing up in Ashdown, Arkansas, we had some great places to eat. Ms. Mac’s served the best chicken fried steak ever. Mesamore’s had a plate lunch that was great. And the Tastee-Freez chili ...

In life, there are people and situations that stand at our door and ask to be let in.

We have a choice to make. Let them in or don’t answer the door.

Often, either choice has a profound impact on our lives. Many a person has spent the rest of their days wishing they’d done the opposite of what they did.

It might have been a romantic relationship they wished they would have started or continued – or one that was a bad ...

My first exposure to cooking in the great outdoors was in Cub Scouts. I saw biscuits made in a cast iron dutch oven over the coals of a campfire.

Until then, I had no idea that food could come from anywhere else other than mom’s kitchen or the school cafeteria.

Sure, I’d seen my grandfather make hamburgers over charcoal at those little highway roadside parks that the state built in the 50s and 60s, but cooking ...

You meet people in the South who like spring, summer or winter, but virtually everyone below the Mason Dixon Line loves fall.

I can speak to my affinity for the fall season, which in Ashdown, Arkansas, is at least three weeks. Four if you’re lucky.

Fall is that time of year when it goes from hot to not. It’s not really cold (it’s never really that cold in the South), and it’s not really warm.

Fall is just right.

Now I’m not going to ...

Movies were better in a theater. A theater filled with people.

Such was the case before the Internet. Before HBO. Before people holed up in their living rooms and away from their neighbors and friends.

A time when pay-per-view meant you bought a ticket to watch a movie. You also grabbed a large Coke and a bucket of popcorn bigger than your head so you could share with your sister.

Movies were better in a theater because that was the only place you ...

When you grow up in a Southern church, you learn quickly how things are done. And how they’re not done.

Some kids learn early. Some kids never get it.

Bethel Missionary Baptist Church was a small, white frame structure. Like many churches of mid-20th Century America, it was plenty big enough to accommodate the 75 or so who went there. It was a lot like a weekly family reunion since many attendees were kin to each other.

That’s one of the first things ...

I have a lot of my grandparents in me. I’m cheap.

I also love the Arkansas Razorbacks.

Nowhere is this truer than when it comes to radio, television, and an Arkansas game. I grew up listening to free radio and watching free television. So the idea of paying money to listen to or watch an Arkansas Razorbacks game is foreign to me.

I’m not doing it.

Located in southwest Arkansas, Ashdown was and still is in a good geographic location to pick up games ...

Not so long ago, you could tell quite a bit about someone by the car they drove.

If someone drove a sensible vehicle, such as a small sedan, they were frugal and wanted to make sure their family enjoyed comfort during their travels. If someone drove a big red sports car, they had a lot of money — and a lot of speeding tickets.

In the 50s and 60s in Ashdown, Arkansas, most families had one car. The dad drove it to ...

I don’t remember a time when Burt Reynolds wasn’t around. That is until he passed away a few years ago.

When Gunsmoke was one of the biggest shows on television, Burt played the town blacksmith, Quint Asper.

It was a character I noticed, because my grandfather and great grandfather were blacksmiths.

Burt wasn’t always on the show, but when he was he reeked of the cool he would later embody when he ruled the box office in the 1970s.

I likely should not have ...

My grandparents lived modestly. Most from their generation did.

It wasn’t a choice. It was necessity.

My grandmother and grandfather were teens when the depression hit, so instead of enjoying their formative years, they worked to eat. They worked to survive.

I heard a lot about the depression. The thing I heard most often was that no one had anything; at least nothing of significant value, and certainly nothing that was frivolous.

When I came along in the early 1960s, the post-World War II ...