Category archive for ‘Editorials’ 
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Yankee Doodle went to Memphis and ordered the Uname
Two weeks ago I made a weekend trip with six friends to Memphis, TN. We were there for a music festival, but the best stories I’ve brought back revolve around food.
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Attack of the worms!
My wife and I are big-time recyclers and proud of it. If it can be recycled, we recycle it. And if it can’t be recycled, we oftentimes find a way to repurpose it, especially clothes where repurposing is called refashioning.
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Critical lessons I learned from critical men
Meeting our heroes is one of those rare situations that rattles the nerves with feelings of both extreme excitement and terror.
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Sun Day and HCR make waves together
Usually when someone makes waves, it’s not a good thing. People enjoy the status quo. What’s that saying? Don’t rock the boat?
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Advertising: it really must be a mad man’s game
What defines a man? Is it a full beard, or a sculpted physique? Being able to survive in the wild? A Camaro? The type of scotch he drinks?
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Hat trauma
Fellas, if you’re ever on your way out the house and your wife says you look cute, go change immediately.
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Remind me why we have these again?
Before I started working with the Sun Day, I had little knowledge of what exactly a township was. I was aware they existed, but other than that, they were a complete mystery to me.
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Blue (and red) light special
Blue (and red) light special
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These days, you’ve got to look straight at them
“These are the days of miracle and wonder.”
-Paul Simon, “The Boy in the Bubble”
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To T.R.’s hair, eat your heart out / Student outgrows teacher
It’s said that students, or some, surpass their teachers. Although the idea is flattering, I’m not sure how this is possible. Granted, the teacher may give up one day on his/her development or a teacher may have a prodigy student destined for pure greatness, but people are constantly learning, constantly growing, and, by and large, teachers are older than their students.
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A happy holiday wish and important Sun Day updates
Tomorrow, December 21, is a big day. First, it’s the winter solstice and, therefore, the shortest day of the year, which is a big deal for the vampire I am. I love the dark (and almost hate the sun). Second, it’s my wife’s birthday! Third, and this one may trump 1 and 2, according to the Mayan Calendar, it may be the end of the world. (Doomsday? Darkness? Yes, the jokes abound about my wife’s birthday being the darkest day of the year and possibly the end of the world to boot!)
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An American classic played out around a turkey
Skype is a wonderful tool for communication that allows users to see each other face-to-face. It makes “video chat,” which up until a few short years ago was still stuck in the science fiction realm, a reality. It brings families and friends closer together than ever before. And, viewed through the eyes of a vigilant and all-seeing mother, it allows parents to see just what their kids have been up to while away at school.
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If you don’t know what time it is, guess
For somebody who is supposed to be in the prime of his life, moving and shaking, on top of this changing world, it appears I’m brutally behind the times.
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Wait a minute, did you just hear what I heard?
The preset FM radio stations in my car are as follows:
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No skeletons. Only gargoyles, chimps, and tacky turtles, Part II
Old and deadly. If you look closely, the bottle is unopened and about a half-finger of pure, concentrated poison sits at the bottom. By now the whiskey is probably nuclear.
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Sandy’s silver lining: shelter from the political storm
Watching footage the past two weeks on Hurricane Sandy has left me feeling extremely sad for those caught in its path. It will take years to rebuild the areas damaged by the winds and water, and nothing can ever replace the lives lost nor heal the emotional wounds.
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No skeletons. Only gargoyles, chimps, and tacky turtles, Part I
I am exactly the person that will peer through the keyhole, open the box (save for coffins), brush aside the curtain, and eavesdrop. And I admit this without shame. The entire world of journalism (and even bigger world of writing) is built on peeking through the cracks. Where do you think our material comes from? Google? Well, maybe some get it from Google but the great journalists and writers out there are masters at decoding interaction, which is the key to inspiration and the formula for any Pulitzer prize-winning journalism piece or any classic novel. If Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle isn’t a peek through the keyhole, then I don’t know what is.
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Sun Day editor by day, just about anyone you can imagine at night
Sometimes I walk into a scene from “Lord of the Rings” following a big battle. Swords, battle axes, bows and arrows are strewn across the floor, and loose pieces of armor make me question exactly what happened while I was away.
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You laugh because you don’t know me
It’s very common for humans to characterize the people we know, especially our family members. Oh, he’s the serious one. Oh, she’s the pretty one. He’s the smart one. He’s the athletic one. I swear, she’s the only one in this family with any grace at all. Sound familiar?
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How fall engages all five senses
Recently, I stepped out my front door and looked up to find a gray, cloudy sky. I felt a sharp breeze blow past. Immediately following that came a thought I hadn’t thought in months: “I should have worn a jacket.”
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Good to the last drop … not always
I recently performed my first magic trick by brewing coffee into thin air. Despite its obvious success (not a drop in the mug!), it was not accepted with great applause by my wife. Her patience with me was like a magic trick itself: now you see it, now you don’t.
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Sun Day Refresher Course 101
Due to a placement test for college, I was remanded to taking a refresher course in mathematics before continuing into standard college level math. It was no secret that I was a poor math student, partly because I found math boring, partly because my brain doesn’t seem to process numbers like most people’s, and partly because I couldn’t see how anything beyond basic math skills was necessary for “real life.”
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If life only had a keyboard shortcut
Here’s an oldie but goodie. In 1950s DJ lingo: A platter that matters. Cell phones. I’ve written about them before and will probably write about them again until their days are numbered!
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Digging into the meanings of superstitions, part II
As promised in an earlier column, I’m going to talk about superstitions again. Though this column won’t be as funky or fun as Stevie Wonder’s song, I did receive a few very interesting suggestions from readers on superstitions they grew up with. So, as soon as I check for broken mirrors, I’ll get started.
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Who needs to give up TV when you have no couches?
I oftentimes hear people complain that they watch too much TV or spend too much time on their computer or talking on their cell phone. Usually it ends there or at some sort of vague remark on how they should cut back, but sometimes this observation is followed up by an actual self-challenge, or a swearing off the use of the object for a certain time period. The object can be anything. I read that Kim Kardashian swore off makeup for two months after her divorce (but ended up resuming her makeup routine at closer to one month).
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Looking at the world through 18-year-old eyes
For my whole life, I’ve lived in a world with the U.S. as its sole superpower. Throughout my life, the federal budget has always been over a trillion dollars. Starbucks has always been available to me, and I apparently don’t remember a time when “cut and paste” meant using scissors, paper, and glue.
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I love my wife, I really do, but sometimes…
A couple weeks ago, my wife and I were enjoying a fine summer evening on the porch of our new house (light breeze in the air, streetlights just coming on, a little red left in the western sky, neighborhood quiet and content), when my wife said, “Your columns haven’t been so great lately.”
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The reason you won’t find a hat on my bed
I don’t like clutter. I can’t always avoid it, but I try my best to be as clutter-free as possible. This means keeping things organized on my desk and keeping junk off places it doesn’t belong, like my bed.
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Sein-language at Walmart
Seinfeld was a show about nothing. But what made it so successful is that “nothing” really is “something.” Moreover, I think everyone has, at times in their lives, experienced a “Seinfeldian” moment, where a trip to the grocery store turns into an epic, daylong fiasco of little slips and mishaps that would be nothing on their own but turn into quite something to talk about and remember forever and yada-yada-yada.
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Would you like a side of hot-button politics with that?
Remember when Oreo cookies were an escape? How dunking them in a tall glass of milk washed away all the stress of a busy day? How twisting one open revealed a bright center sandwiched between two chocolate cookies? It was a reminder that even in the middle of darkness, we could still find the light.
