Out on Interstate 64, heading west after a trip to Hampton Roads, I followed a large SUV for several miles on Sunday, wondering all the time whether there was actually a driver behind the wheel.
Jim Boy was the weirdest guy I can remember from my college days. He and I weren't really buddies. Jim Boy -- a nickname I doubt he ever realized he'd picked up -- was just a friend of a friend.
What is it about Interstate 81 that brings out the dummy in people? First, there's what I call the "blocker" -- this time, a Ford Expedition in the left lane, hovering just off the rear bumper of a tractor-trailer in the right lane.
The hairy little beggar obviously couldn't read. Otherwise, he wouldn't have come looking for a handout. There were plenty of signs saying "do not feed the wildlife."
My Grandma Anderson has been much on my mind this week. Gone for more than 20 years now, I remember she had a wealth of small-town wisdom about a wide range of topics, from the weather and raising African violets to politics and canning vegetables.
The week before last, this newspaper ran a photo of a wreck on Interstate 81 in which a pickup pulling a camper trailer overturned near Toms Brook, injuring two people. The highway was shut down while a medical helicopter flew in to transport one of the victims to Winchester Medical Center.
Last week was a week for public meltdowns. No, I'm not talking about the weather, although there was plenty of meltability there. Regarding that, my ninth-grade science teacher, kind of an odd dude, told us the best way to stay...
Considering it started with one really bad hour, Thursday turned into a good day. The mini-adventure started early that morning when my wife headed off for work, then popped back into the house only moments later. A tire on her...
When I heard that the Warren County Sheriff's Office is getting a $273,000 Lenco Bearcat armored personnel carrier, it reminded me of my nightly runs for coffee over to the 7-Eleven in Strasburg.
As I looked down the gullet of a class 5 rapids on the New River, several thoughts passed through my mind. Boy, I wish I had updated our life insurance policies before we left.
I think I caught a whiff of something new in Front Royal earlier this week. It might be my imagination, but I detected the faint scent of disinfectant in the air around Town Hall.
Having gone to high schools on three different continents and not keeping up with anyone I knew back then, I'm always intrigued by people who still hang around with their old buddies from their alma mater.
It was a small joint just a few steps off Bourbon Street. It didn't look like much from the outside, and the first impression on the inside wasn't all that encouraging.
My dad's not feeling well and asked me if I would write his column this week. I think it started when my older sister called from New York City and said she had just visited Times Square.
One of my wife's friends told me recently that I spend too much time "loafing." I was struck by her use of that word, which suggests an old-time term for what we might today call "loitering."
Of all the scenes in "The Graduate," a movie with only a few very brief moments between iconic scenes, Dustin Hoffman's homecoming stands out right now.
Sunday was a day to appreciate all mothers, beginning with my mother-in-law. She came to visit at Christmas from California, looked around our kitchen and pronounced us in dire need of a makeover.
The Shenandoah Apple Blossom Festival sometimes feels like a time capsule, with lots of men in uniforms escorting beautiful young women who look down from elaborately decorated floats.
It's Apple Blossom week, when we can turn our attention away for a moment from the national preoccupations with the deficit, health care reform and Heidi Montag's botched
boob job.
At least six people at the Front Royal Town Hall have to be asking themselves an unpleasant question right about now: Will we still have jobs when the polls close on May 4?
How about those wild and crazy college kids! Even though the notorious Springfest block party at James Madison University is fading from the headlines, we can expect that it will be the topic of dinner table conversations for weeks to come as kids head home and parents and alumni get firsthand accounts of what happened.
The crime scene was large, foul-smelling, unsettling and humorous, all at the same time. Fortunately, the only thing the thief got away with was the picked-over carcass of a turkey dinner.
About 10 years ago, when I was working as a freelance writer, I was assigned to cover a conference in Charleston, W.Va., about mountaintop removal mining.
A familiar feeling came over me while reading Wednesday morning's newspaper. When I turned to the Region section and saw the large photo in the center of the page my skin crawled and my stomach turned.
Of all the ways to lose your money these days, none is harder to resist than record companies repackaging old music and trotting it out as something new from the best years of rock 'n' roll.
About a year and a half ago, I commented in a lighthearted manner in this space about the lack of a Hooters restaurant in the Winchester area, wondering whether the company considered us too staid a community for such an establishment.
It's too bad Alma Porter isn't in charge of Congress. Mrs. Porter, God rest her soul, was my 11th-grade algebra teacher, and she ruled her class with an iron fist.
Every generation has its special words. When my generation's parents would say something was "super," or "neat," we would say it was "cool," mainly because we wanted to sound cooler than our parents.
Out on Interstate 64, heading west after a trip to Hampton Roads, I followed a large SUV for several miles on Sunday, wondering all the time whether there was actually a driver behind the wheel.
Jim Boy was the weirdest guy I can remember from my college days. He and I weren't really buddies. Jim Boy -- a nickname I doubt he ever realized he'd picked up -- was just a friend of a friend.
What is it about Interstate 81 that brings out the dummy in people? First, there's what I call the "blocker" -- this time, a Ford Expedition in the left lane, hovering just off the rear bumper of a tractor-trailer in the right lane.
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