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Today's Opinions

  • Sudan: The mission fields

    I have a sister, Mary, who married a man named Bernard. Bernard was born and raised in Marion County. Yet, despite that, we have taught him to eat with a knife and fork, use indoor plumbing, and take more than one bath a week. We’re still working on the spoon.

    Just kidding.

  • Kids

    Kids. You can’t beat them. At least not where it shows. Just joking.

    Normally, kids, after a certain age, are embarrassed to be seen with their parents. It’s just a total lack of maturity on their part.

    Take me, for instance.

    What kid in their right mind wouldn’t want to be seen with me at their side out in public? Several adults, who will remain nameless, might not, but what kid? After all, they’re not as intelligent as you are due to their lack of years on this Earth.

  • Disappointing comments from an educational leader

    Disappointed.

    That’s the word that best describes how I feel about comments made at last week’s school board tax hearing.

  • The dream is bigger than the game

    It had taken us three years to accomplish our goal, but we did it, last weekend.

  • Still investing with Mr. S. Willey

    Institutional Investor - Past year financial investor who’s now locked up in a nuthouse.

    S. Willey, Financial Advisor

    Hey everybody!

    Man, what an economy.

    We’ve got bankruptcies and home foreclosures galore. The stock market is acting like that crazy aunt you keep locked up in the basement. Shoot, interest rates are so low that even if you do have some money, you just about have to pay the bank to hold it for you.

  • Readers Write: Rescue squad seeks assistance

    To the Residents of Springfield and Washington County,

  • Ripe for the picking

    I tightened the lid on the 24th jar of tomatoes I had canned. Don’t ask me why I do this. I still have 6 jars left from the thirty-something I canned last year. And that doesn’t include a refrigerator full of quart, pint, and half-pint jars of salsa.

  • The traveling salesman and the bad samaritan

    “Cindy, is that the guy?”

    It was about 6 p.m. We’d just finished up supper when this guy rode up into our drive in a pickup truck. I’d been waiting patiently for weeks for his return.

    “That’s him.”

    “Oh boy, oh boy!” I was giddy with excitement.

    “I wish you wouldn’t get giddy all over the place. Somebody has to clean that mess up. By the way, you do know you’re going to the ‘bad place’ don’t you?”