By Greg Gelpi
What kind of weak ninny seeks anonymous publicity?
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.
The car's engine hasn't fully wound down and my feet hit the pavement with a noticeable determination. Striding across the parking lot of my apartment complex the anticipation swells. Will I get one today, or maybe even two? I approach the bank of square metal doors and key into my designated cubby. There's some junk mail on top and a bill sticks out at me like a tongue, but underneath is the prize inside this Cracker Jack box that I'm looking for.
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.
My mother is depressed. I don't think she would mind me sharing this, because she has a perfectly legitimate reason for her mood.
I'm tempted to use his name, but there's an off chance that he's still alive.
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.
By Ed Brock
By Bill Yoder
NEWS DAILY - COMMUNITY LINKS
From Staff Reports
By Jeffery Armstrong
Evil. The mere word conjures images of pure darkness, demonic figures and tormenting flames.
By Ed Brock
November 6, 2003
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
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."