I’m betting you’re probably down to the dark meat and giblets by now. I’m betting you’re probably down to the dark meat and giblets by now. Each year around Thanksgiving, Americans eat about 12 billion pounds of turkey: or 10 pounds per person, per sandwich, per hour. This amazing gobbler consumption is carried out despite […]
Turkey puts him in a foul mood Read More »
The inspiration for Valentine’s Day was a man named Saint Valentine. He was a martyr. The definition of “martyr,” according to Webster is “one who gets whacked for no good reason.” I believe our modern culture has confused “traumatic” with “romantic.” Personally, I don’t consider getting beat upside the head a particularly loving gesture. In
Ever wondered why Cupid is armed? Read More »
Perhaps because I am a native of Alabama, I am not an expert on haute couture (French for “expensive clothes.”) But this week I was invited to be a style critic at the men’s fashion shows being held in Manhattan. Generally, people in Alabama don’t speak much about the garment- design business. After all, the
The world of fashion is a scary place Read More »
Football. I’ll bet I just doubled my readership by beginning with that word. If you were born in the Great State, the mighty pigskin is a part of your consciousness. Alabamians are fond of the game in the same way that the Hindenburg was a balloon. It was the last few minutes of the Iron
Yankees just don’t get Iron Bowl Read More »
Last night I witnessed a distinguished group of elderly ladies suddenly disintegrate into babbling, wide-eyed, blithering idiots. “OOOH!” the women said, “oodle, oodle, cha-cha-cha-cha, figgidy, figgidy, blurp!” It was a sad moment. All of us watched as some cupped their hands over their faces for a few seconds, only to emerge with stricken looks of
Babies bring out strange behavior Read More »
When I opened the rusty-white door to the Frigidaire, what seemed like a thousand watts bashed me in the eyeballs in the late night of a South Alabama summer. Arm over my eyes, I groped around using my keen sense of feel to try to locate a Co-Cola. Squinting only to find that I was
Columnist vs. roach battle ensues Read More »
I am about to devote an entire column to something I know is probably on your mind right now. A subject that is pressing on the cerebral cortex of Andalusians everywhere: New Hampshire. In pursuit of the “good life” and the Great American Dream, I recently sallied forth into that expanse of wild country, that
New Hampshire motto sparks questions Read More »
The New York City grocery store business is made up of a vast mafia cartel that controls, among other things, monetary prices in South Korea, the Academy Awards, Pop-Tart placement on aisle four, and grocery-cart wheel friction. In short, it’s a racket. I like to eat, but I don’t like to buy groceries. There are
New York City grocers are too powerful Read More »
Twas the night before Christmas And lo it had snowed. Though less than an inch covered the road. “Blizzard!” cried some “Nor’easter” hollered more. Even the mayor couldn’t get bread at the store. The elves and their radar had re-routed old Santa with frost on the ground, could he land in ‘Bama? My family was
An Andalusia Christmas Read More »
This week, Bill Clinton, a.k.a. the Big Mac President, alias the Commander in Beef, leader of the Feed World and of the last “supersize me” nation, came to New York City and did a little Christmas shopping. As a result, we all know exactly what he bought Hillary and the first frosh for Christmas. How?
Christmas shopping budget skimpy Read More »
