Today's Opinions

A very pleasant but obviously unhappy lady called me Friday to object to the number of harvested deer and other wildlife photos that appeared in last week’s paper.

She is a long-time subscriber but made it clear that if dead animal photos continue to be printed, she most certainly will not renew her subscription again.

To slugs like me who sell newspapers, that’s like hearing nails on a chalkboard.

I never thought I could be so excited about someone going No. 2 — yes, that No. 2.

But when it’s a dog and the act is happening outside instead of in your kitchen floor, living room or car, it’s darn near worth shouting about.

Josh and I welcomed Lily, our 32-pound bouncing, baby yellow lab, into our home last week. She’s 5 months old, and for the next few years, she’s the closest thing to a baby we’re going to have. But as I’m finding out, having a dog is a lot closer to having a baby that one might think.

In 1992, I voted for Ross Perot. I was just a few days from turning 8 years old, and I was in the second grade.

Obviously, it didn't count for anything and, as you might expect, my political reasoning wasn't very advanced. I feel pretty confident saying I had no idea what he stood for, and I had very little knowledge of America's party system or its election process.

I'm pretty sure I voted for Perot because I felt sorry for him. Out of the three "most popular" candidates, he had the least support, from what I'd heard. So I voted for him.