The first time I saw a VCR was in 1979. A buddy of mine got it from a friend who bought things he couldn’t afford.

Many of my most prized acquisitions came through similar channels – people who overbought and then sold to me at a great discount – but that’s for another column.

There was something magical about being able to record something right off of the TV antenna and watch it again. And again, if you wanted. But at first, ...

I have no clue why we’re told to say, “cheese” when preparing to have our photos taken. I do know that I often said cheese when asked as a kid what I wanted to eat.

Specifically, cheese toast.

That was my go-to quick meal growing up in Ashdown, Arkansas. I wasn’t allowed to eat it every day, but I ate it as often as my mom would make it for my sister and me.

Cheese toast was one of the simple, yet hearty ...

Once upon a time, kids used to get bored. Before cell phones, video games, and 4,000 cable channels with nothing to watch, there wasn’t much to do. And kids got bored.

I was one of them.

It was bad enough to have a deep, endless chasm of time swallowing you (think Christmas holidays or summers before you were old enough to work a job), but it was even worse when you were with cousins and other family or friends, and all of ...

My mother must’ve kept everything my sister and I ever made for Christmas. Some things were put together in school, but most were done in Sunday School.

Same is true for anything we ever made, regardless of the time of year.

Decades later at a Christmas gathering, if something someone says reminds my mom of a drawing I did in Vacation Bible School in 1967, she leaves the room and moments later returns with said drawing for all to see.

I never understood ...

I love language. Especially English. That’s likely because it’s the only language I speak.

I’ve read that outside of Icelandic, English is one of the most difficult languages for a non-native speaker to learn. Inside of Icelandic, I bet it’s even harder.

I was listening to a radio show that deals with words and unique regional phrases, and a caller rang up the hosts about the word, “spell.”

The lady who called lives in Appalachia, where she said spell is a word of ...

Saturday mornings used to be for kids.

Weekdays as a kid on Beech Street in Ashdown, Arkansas, started with the two captains. Captain Kangaroo and Cap’n Crunch. Saturdays were for all of the other shows made for children..

You felt ownership of the TV on Saturday. Cartoons were on all three channels. You didn’t have to worry about your parents coming in and switching the dial to some educational show that actually made you learn.

Yes, Saturdays belonged to the youth of America. ...

It was Flag Day 1987. I was opening the mic for the first time as a new announcer on KTBB AM 600. It was the early part of my radio journey, and I was excited to be moving up in the industry.

KTBB was the second radio station to be licensed in Tyler, Texas. A station located at 1490 on the dial was the first, but KTBB would ultimately dominate the market. A strong award-winning news department, excellent on-air talent, and ...

“Oh, waiter. There’s a bean in my chili.”

So goes the encounter every Southerner dreads when he orders a bowl of red, and is served chili with beans.

There are certain missteps in the South that are unforgivable. Asking a girl out without clearing it first with her daddy is a no-no. Bringing a guest a glass of tea without sugar in it is a big no-no.

But serving chili with beans is a no-no on the level of giving someone ketchup when ...

I don’t know whose idea it was to make the sweet substances that graced the biscuits of my Southern upbringing, but when I meet them in Heaven I’m going to shake their hand.

I say Heaven because whoever concocted blackberry jam, pear preserves, or other sweet fruity options must be currently receiving their eternal rewards.

Same goes for grape jelly, apple butter, and plum jam. Come to think of it, they’re all plum good.

From birth, most Southerners are fed a steady breakfast ...

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 ...