Point of No Return
It’s been said that the path of an individual’s life is often set by a series of decisions.
There’s a lot at stake in this presidential election.
For starters, there’s a swing seat open in the Supreme Court of the United States. Whoever wins the presidential election will (presumably) be afforded the opportunity to offer a nominee for that position and influence the way the highest court in the land leans for the next several years.
Ubaldo Jimenez? Really?
Once again, “The People” have spoken.
If you’ve entered a grocery or drug store since, oh, July, you have noticed that Halloween items are filling the aisles.
Is it Christmas? Because it kind of feels like Christmas.
There comes a time when we must all stand up and take accountability for our actions or words. I find myself in this position quite a bit, actually.
Dear Colin Kaepernick,
You don’t know me. And, to be honest with you, it’s not like you are someone I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about over the past few years, anyway.
“Love thy neighbor as thyself.”
Remember that one? You know, pretty big reference in the Bible. Actually, it’s mentioned several times in the Bible, prominently in Matthew and Leviticus — and is the central theme of the standard “Golden Rule” that can be found in the texts of nearly every religion or philosophy recorded through time.
One of the sections of our paper most read and discussed by staff members is the obituaries.
Twenty-one gold medals.
As of Tuesday night, Olympic swimmer Michael Phelps had received 21 gold medals in his amazing, awe-inspiring career, and still had an opportunity to add to that collection before these Games were over, as he still had three more events to swim.
Buckle up. This could get rocky.
According to figures supplied by the Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) last month, 20 veterans a day committed suicide in 2014. Let that settle in for just a moment. That is 20 human beings a day taking their own lives. That’s 20 families, each and every day, ripped apart at the seams.
There are weeks when I sit down at my computer to start putting together this column and I come to the unnerving reality that I don’t have any idea what it is I’m going to write about this week.
Four score and seven years ago...
Sorry, I was working on an original speech and it just spilled into the beginning of my column here.
There are very few discussions a group of any size can have without resulting in debate.
My leaf has turned.
No longer will I focus my attention on mouth-breathing, simpleton dolts who fill our atmosphere with their ignorant blatherings or hate-filled dialogue. I’m not wasting any more time on knee-jerk politicians hitching their wagons to the latest trending topics on Twitter by spewing forth proposals that will never see the light of day, and you won’t read anything more from me on annoying internet trolls who take out the frustrations of their own miserable, rudderless lives on anybody who has accomplished anything of note.
I had every intention of focusing my column this week on the tragic shooting in Orlando last weekend that resulted in the death of 50 human beings and more than that injured.
By now, many of you have heard about the entitled piece of garbage in California who was sentenced to six months in jail for raping an unconscious woman behind a Dumpster outside a Stanford University frat party.
At the heart of life is music.
The trusted Coastal Point calendar hanging on my wall tells me that we have indeed crossed into another dimension. A dimension not only of sight and sound, but of mind.
So, this has been an interesting race for the presidency to this point, huh?
When the State of Delaware Office of Auditor of Accounts (AOA) released their inspection report of the Millville Volunteer Fire Company’s (MVFC) financials this week, the oft-whispered-about had become a horrific black-and-white reality.
It has been said that each individual’s life is its own book, and the chapters contained within tell the tales of different phases of that person’s life story.
Once again, I find myself surprised over something that really shouldn’t be all that surprising.
This has been a week of rain, shine, snow, wind and hail. In other words, it’s been just another wacky spring week in our lovely oasis by the shore.
There’s just something about baseball.
Do you remember those old deals you would come across in magazines? Come on, you know the ones. You’d glue a penny to a paper card and, in return, you would receive 719 albums delivered to your home.
You rotten kids. Get off my lawn!
Growing up in my home, there were three absolutes if you were a young male: