I’d rather focus on stink bugs.
The political season is at a fever pitch. Anger at those who disagree with others’ political views, the result of increasing polarization, is rampant.
At the beginning of the year, the storm gurus said they were more confident than usual that this hurricane season would be busier than usual. They didn’t know how right they would be.
Ever since FCC chief Newton Minow famously branded it a “vast wasteland” six decades ago, television has tried to polish its image. One way was with probing documentaries, pioneered by journalists like Edward R. Murrow and Fred Friendly.
This is a year of double milestones: my mother’s house turns 75 and (as of October 30) she will have been living there for 50 years.
When Joe Biden picked Kamala Harris as his running mate back a couple of months ago, it was historic.
If you’re looking for a high road in political advertising, you’ll find it somewhere between the South Pole and Hades. Short of Photoshopping devil horns on your opponent, anything goes. There are no rules.
This year’s all-too-brief prospect of an all-Chicago World Series would have renewed one of the few longstanding disagreements between my dad and myself.
I have been a Cubs fan since I was a kid. He pulled for the White Sox.
This week, Louisiana mourns the loss of one of our state’s greatest leaders. Governor Mike Foster was a true original who brought his own unique style and brand of governing to Louisiana’s highest office.
My electronic key fob is putting more mileage on ME than on the car.
It appears that the “Green House,” said to be one of the oldest houses west of the Atchafalaya Basin, has weathered another storm. Laura is the most recent of dozens of blows that have tested it since it was built about 1836.