Last week I yammered on about a football size rock sailing off a dump truck and slamming into the left fender of my car. I took a light-hearted look at what could have been a serious situation.
When I was a toddler I fell out the second story window of my home. My parents recovered me from the pine island below with only a busted lip. A few years later I had pneumonia. After that I crashed my bike as often as I could, with just a few scratches to show for my wild stunts. I've swung from vines across creeks, been white water rafting, traveled to rural Central American villages, skied steep, wide open Colorado bowls, and finally, plowed into oncoming traffic at 45 mph (not my fault by the way). And after 25 years without a major scar, I finally take a spill at the haunted house on Halloween, followed by a trip to the emergency room for six stitches.
I'm tempted to use his name, but there's an off chance that he's still alive.
What kind of weak ninny seeks anonymous publicity?
My mother is depressed. I don't think she would mind me sharing this, because she has a perfectly legitimate reason for her mood.
By Anthony Rhoads
We usually reserve breaking news for the front page, but I felt it would be appropriate to announce some news in this space. The Henry County Chamber of Commerce recently completed an intense branding project, compiling surveys and information submitted by those who live here and those who travel here. The result is Henry County's new tagline: "Comfortably south of Atlanta."
From Staff Reports
NEWS DAILY - COMMUNITY LINKS
From Staff and Wire Reports
By Ed Brock
Advertising has gone mad. The other day I received an email from someone, a person who makes it a point to dress modestly as prescribed by her religious beliefs.
November 5, 2003
By Ed Brock
By Greg Gelpi
By Ed Brock and Greg Gelpi
By Doug Gorman
Once again mired in the re-decorating blues (Is He testing me?), I am at wit's end, rendered stark raving mad by the myriad choices available to one lucky (or unlucky) enough to be born in The Land of Plenty.
I loaned one of our newest reporters a copy of "Confederacy of Dunces" to read since he is from Louisiana. And as soon as he is through I plan to bring in one of my dog-eared copies of Robert Penn Warren's "All the King's Men."
By Greg Gelpi
Only one night a year can bring together the smells of waxy chocolate and granulated sugar with those of latex, grease paint and sweaty kids. Add to this a crisp twilight breeze that hints at winter and the rustle of fallen brown leaves underfoot. With all the kinetic force of a 5th birthday party and more explosively delivered sucrose than a pi?ata, it's here ? Halloween!