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.
Neil Offen: Walk this way
I don’t get sick. I never get sick. That is, of course, what all of us say when we actually do get sick
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.
To make sure you are not a robot, an Uzbekistani hacker or an 11-year-old computer geek living down the block with too much time on his hands, please answer the following security questions before we can allow you to access your account.
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.
Do it yourself is fine unless I’m doing it myself. Yourself is probably much better.
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.
Welcome to your new electronic health records portal, ushering in a new generation of high-tech medicinal confusion. Here you will have immediate access to all the frustration and time-wasting that in the past you could only get by going directly to the doctor’s office.
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.
It’s time we stand by our records, so let the record show that my opponent has pulled the wings off insects.
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.
Not too long ago, at a celebratory event, I found myself dancing with my young adult daughter. Afterward, as I was receiving oxygen, my daughter said she wanted to tell me something.
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.
In a stunning decision that sent lawyers on both sides running to their checkbooks to see how much more they could charge for their advice, the U.S. Supreme Court today refused to issue an injunction against any further injunctions.