As I write this a few days before you’re reading it, I know my weekend will include helping my boy write all 21 names in his class on their “Paw Patrol” Valentines. Thankfully this is one activity that cannot become digitized. You don’t give first-graders e-Valentines. No social media Valentine’s Day wishes. It’s the print edition for Valentines at the elementary school level.
Breaking news: women like sports. I’m being sarcastic because women have liked sports forever, have played sports, have watched sports, sports, sports, sports, etc. But some advertising folks seem to think that the audience for televised sports is just men who, shall we say, are not intellectual. Or have mothers, wives or daughters. We know that’s not true. Televised sports are a cultural phenomenon that goes way beyond some guy sitting in a recliner with a beer.
While Los Angeles stands alone in its transportation issues, here in the Triangle we can also go on forever about what’s the best route to get to points A, B, C and back. I never tire of traffic talk. A few years ago I wrote about those late mergers when the Durham Freeway merges onto Interstate 40, and got some of the more salty comments from readers who also do not like those who, ahem, cut in line at the last minute when the rest of us were waiting patiently.
I never chose an ACC North Carolina allegiance, but my son has. It is Duke. This will please the Duke fans who wrote to me after my column about Duke football games being affordable, urging me to consider Duke as my local team. This will not please all you UNC fans, obviously. Which includes my sister, even.
A year ago this month, Antonio Dixon was shot and killed in Durham. I covered a vigil for Dixon held in May at Spaulding and Linwood streets behind the Lincoln Community Health Center. Dixon was shot nearby on Jan. 14, 2014. Less than a year after Dixon’s death, a good friend who spoke at his vigil would also die, his life ended by an allegedly drunk driver.
The holidays are almost done and the new year upon us, which means one thing: time to write those thank you notes.
It’s time for my seasonal attempt at humor, in the sort of format of “A Visit from St. Nicholas (’Twas the Night Before Christmas)” by Clement C. Moore. But first, a “The Simpsons” reference. My writing below does not exactly fit the definition of a limerick, so I’ll call it a lime rickey, which is close enough. A lime rickey is a drink I heard of because of Mr. Burns. So enjoy this written lime rickey. Season’s greetings, ya’ll.
“Frosted windowpanes, candles gleaming inside, painted candy canes on the tree…” As Frank Sinatra sang it, I’m ready for all of it. The frosty windows, the candles, the painted, well, the made-in-a-factory candy canes on the tree. I’ve only just started putting candy canes on the tree even though I haven’t had a dog in 20 years. Growing up, our dog Tootsie would definitely eat candy canes or any other ornament that appeared to be food. In third grade, I made an ornament that used glue, foam, fabric and an old ice cream cone. Guess who ate the cone right off the tree? Lesson learned.
My story a few days ago about Patti Wagner, the St. Thomas More Catholic School teacher who organizes an annual drive to give kids in coal mine country presents for Christmas, is a wonderful lesson in giving. It’s a lesson in giving to give, because you want to help and make their day brighter. It’s about being kind to others and sharing.
This past weekend, I stood outside the N.C. Museum of History and watched the recognized tribes of Native Americans in North Carolina play the drums and perform various dances. It was part of the 19th Annual American Indian Heritage Celebration.
I interviewed a Fairy Godmother this past week. Kecia Lewis, as you may have read about in the Friday Entertainment section, plays the Fairy Godmother in the national tour of “Rodgers + Hammerstein’s Cinderella.” It’s coming this week to the Durham Performing Arts Center.
If you haven’t experienced combat, you don’t know what it’s like. No matter how many times we watch “Band of Brothers” or “Saving Private Ryan,” or even “The Longest Day,” we don’t know what it was really like during World War II. No one does for sure, unless they were there. So I don’t know what it’s like.
Nail polish. It’s not as minor as you think.
I have a basket of little glass bottles of nail polish, which I’ve used daily since I began painting my nails as a solution to stop biting them. I had orange glittery nail polish on last week for Halloween. It’s part of daily life, something seemingly minor, a cosmetic. But maybe it’s more than that.
Everyone who goes to the N.C. State Fair annually probably also has an annual tradition, too. They always go on a certain ride, eat a certain fried food, see a certain exhibit, or visit particular animals.
I was all set to write a column griping about the high cost of attending an ACC football game. Tickets are $60 each now, which is costly for a family outing and all that goes with it. The recession has taken its toll on the wallets of college fans, and home televisions offer a cheaper view, if not the game day experience. I’m all about the game day experience.