The book, a collection of his columns and mine, is titled “In A Colorful Place,” and it will be published next month. Good stories are worth retelling and we’ve picked some we think are good enough to share again with you. As always, you’ll be the judge.
Our state is among those suing to eliminate the Affordable Care Act, lockstep with a President and a party that has no real plan to replace it, that offers no hope to those without it.
The United States Postal Service will deliver the mail in spite of rain, sleet, snow, gloom of night and political pressure. Believe it.
Whitney Plantation in Louisiana is unique among those open to the public: it is the only one anywhere dedicated to the history of slaves and telling the story from their point of view.
"We stand at a crossroads in November. The answer is not the road to the far left or to the far right. The answer is right there in the middle, where we can see all directions and best determine the way forward, where we can safely and respectfully return after going our separate ways."
Presenting the Tasteful List 2020 — my tenth annual alphabetical presentation of local favorites, from A/M breakfast to waffles.
Dan Conaway: "Memphis, in fact anywhere, is about connections. There is no more connected place to our beginnings than here."
Broken heart syndrome is defined by the Mayo Clinic as a temporary heart condition that’s often brought on by stressful situations and extreme emotions.
While thousands considered Steve a friend, it never felt like thousands when you visited with him. It was just you and Steve. He listened to you, you the homeless, you the wealthy, you the mover and shaker and you the one being moved and shaken.
There will be a vaccine for COVID-19. In the meantime, we will continue to suffer from chronic, fatal stupidity.
We, the South, may be finally admitting that the primary cause of the Civil War was slavery, and that the loss of that cause should be celebrated rather than honored.
Even if we can’t be there, we should join the rest of the world and watch. Even if you don’t like golf or don’t understand it, watch these guys play it like nobody else can.
As you wander the world and see a sign somewhere that says barbecue – by any spelling anywhere else – it’s best to just run. Barbecue in Memphis is quite simply the highest a pig can go.
I was actually looking forward to holding gas pump handles with antiseptic wipes, considering hazmat suits in bathrooms, counting masks in Cracker Barrel, and Atkins breakfast bars in lieu of La Quinta’s breakfast bars.
Italians didn’t deny COVID-19 and science itself. They didn’t lie about the number of cases. They didn’t point fingers at each other, or promote false cures, or stigmatize and demonize care and caution.
A funky triangle bounded by Park, Lamar and Airways would be the first shopping center where things would start to change, where black and white Memphis would mix and mingle, where Memphis would start to look like Memphis.
But don't worry. Our grandchildren could not possibly do anything but improve on that.
I ran from the cops, people. I was driving drunk. The driveway I was parked in belonged to a prominent Memphian, then and now. Then and now, there’s every reason to believe if I’d been black in that driveway, I might never have left that driveway.
Stranded by COVID-19 and the loss of a wireless connection while watching weather stall the SpaceX rocket launch, it's hard to find order in this first-world life.
I would like to dedicate the prom White Station didn’t have in 1967 to our classmates — the students of T.W. Patterson High — and to their quiet courage and inner strength.
Gov. Bill Lee called the day the House passed the school voucher law last year an “historic day.” If so, the bar for historic days is lower than a salamander’s belly.
The artist Dolph Smith named his Ripley home Tennarkippi, but it's also a place where the borders of three states merge to create a particular state of mind.
We can’t even stand up and come together as one to fight something that’s killing us for two or three months without falling apart. After all, we need our nails done and a haircut.
The dogs are loving COVID-19. We’re here all the time. Here for every squirrel alert. Here to charge the door for every delivery. Here for walks, lap time, ball chasing, floor wrestling, dropping food on the floor. And dancing to “The Monkey Time.”
Even though it’s in my state, Knoxville doesn’t know any more about barbecue than a pig knows about Sunday. However, there were a couple of places that provided affordable consolation in greasy bags.