Columnist John Moore's mother sent him one place often when he was a child. Outside. Courtesy John Moore Red Rover. Sandlot baseball. Hide-and-seek. Cowboys and Indians. The latter today is likely lacking political correctness, but it shares with the others a...
My mom turned off her landline. For 50 years, my parents had the same number. 898-2446. Now, it’s gone. “Mom, did you get rid of the landline?” I asked. “Yes, they wanted an extra $38 a month to keep it. I don’t need it since I have a cell phone,” she answered. It was...
Pet Milk was a kitchen staple in most Southern homes in mid-20th Century America. It had as many uses as a coffee can full of bacon drippings. Thankfully, the two weren’t used interchangeably. Opening our Frigidaire, you’d see that the top shelf of our refrigerator...
I miss the restaurants of my youth. In Ashdown, Arkansas, the restaurant everyone gravitated toward was Miss Mac’s. Its official name was, Mac’s Cafe. It started as a small truck stop off Highway 71 in Ogden, Arkansas, which is about halfway between Texarkana and...
I used to pay little attention to the world’s little idiosyncrasies, but now they seem ever present. And it’s more than slightly annoying. I can’t be the only one. When I was getting change back from the fast-food drive-thru recently, it all became clear. The world is...
I don’t recognize toys anymore. Our grandkids are coming from out of state to visit and I can’t find anything to get them as a surprise. Why? I don’t know what anything is or does. Toys should teach you how to prepare for life and be fun. Bakugan – Japanese Power, was...
We had a clothesline, but no washer or dryer. So the Laundromat was a weekly destination. Today, most folks would find the absence of a laundry room in the home as foreign as no air conditioning or Wi-Fi. Fifty years ago, most folks in...
Small town life is slower. I’m reminded of what I traded when I left Ashdown for big city life. Here’s a message I received this morning: “We had a wren make a nest in our mailbox. She only has one leg, so we put a box in a chair on the front porch for the mailman.”...
My grandmother made the best oatmeal. It was so good, it even tasted good cold. She made it each morning for my grandfather who always left some for any of his grandchildren who wanted it. I always did. There were no microwaves, so oatmeal was made on the stove. And...
