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 ...

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 ...