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Opinion


  • I hope that Randall Chesser is in a comfy bed, feet propped up, with a warm, fluffy comforter tucked over his slight body.

    I hope that his favorite television show is on in front of him, or his favorite game, or that someone is reading his favorite book to him.
    I hope that he is surrounded by his favorite aunts, uncles, cousins, relatives.
    I hope that he’s wearing a big grin, one like I’ve seen in the school photos of him.
    I hope Randall Chesser feels safe and secure, rested, fed and comfortable.


  • Hi Washington County. It’s me again.

    Usually you’ll find me over on the sports page. Today, you get a double dose of me.
    As you read last week, The Springfield Sun is without publisher Jeff Moreland. He has moved on to become publisher and editor at The Central Kentucky News-Journal in Campbellsville. We don’t yet have a new fearless leader.


  • I was standing at the street corner, waiting for the light to change when I saw him out of the corner of my eye. He was waving his left arm from his car window, urgently trying to get my attention.

    Then, pulling out of his parking space, he stopped in front of me, blocking me from crossing the street. Only after he lowered his electric window on the passenger side could I see who it was.


  • Do you people remember Mr. Wiley?

     Mr. S. Wiley, or Slick to his friends and the folks at the FBI, is my 93-year-old “personal advisor”, formerly from New York City.  Mr. Wiley used to be my financial advisor until he lost all my money, and that of the rest of his clients.  I’ve been holding him hostage in an attempt to recoup my loses from his loved ones.  However, strangely enough, no one’s come looking for him despite my many ransom letters.


  • Summer’s garden season is winding down, gardens are flooding our county kitchens with buckets of tomatoes, squash, corn, peppers, cucumbers, beans, okra; more food that I can put on the table in one meal, so the refrigerator drawers are stuffed. 

    Counter tops and pantry shelves are packed with shining jars of garden blessings, as colorful as grandmother’s crazy quilt, both destined to warm up a long winter night.


  • Be not afraid.
                     — God
     
    It’s pretty scary out there isn’t it?
    You know what I mean.   
    It doesn’t matter where you work or where you live in this old world.  It’s like everything has dropped off a cliff.  Many families are nervously waiting to see what happens next, if it hasn’t already.


  • Goodbyes are never easy, but they are often necessary. This one is no different.

    For those who may not know, I have received a promotion and will now serve as publisher and editor of the Central Kentucky News-Journal in Campbellsville. The CKNJ is owned by Landmark Community Newspapers, Inc., which also is the parent company of The Springfield Sun.

  • When I attend public meetings, I’m there as eyes and ears for the members of the public who do not attend. I’m not there to offer comments, or have reactions or show emotion to what takes place. That’s why I hope my jaw didn’t drop, as it felt like it did, when the Washington County School Board members did not second a motion for a proposed tax increase Friday evening.

  • Ghost stories are a childhood tradition that never fades around a hot summer night.  Just the phrase “ghost stories” causes the neck hairs to rise up.  This is especially so if you’ve ever met a master storyteller.  I did once when I was about 4 years old.  His name was Damian Warren of Springfield.
    I’m 53 now, so four for me is almost half a century ago.  It was a different time, and entertainment was hard to come by.  You could read or go outside and play.  My choices were narrowed down due to being illiterate.

  • “Lord, I want to thank you for my smokin’ hot wife…”
    No, I didn’t say it! (My wife warned me if I prayed that publicly it might be my last prayer.) Those are the words of the Rev. Joe Nelms, pastor of the First Baptist Church of Lebanon, Tenn., praying at NASCAR’s Federated 300 Nationwide Series race in Nashville, on Saturday of last week. Pastor Nelms became an instant star on the Internet with comments about his prayer ranging from “the greatest prayer ever,” to “blasphemous.” 
    It is neither.

  • The Quaker State 400 was an event that I had been looking forward to for some time. It was the inaugural NASCAR Sprint Cup race at the Kentucky Speedway. In my work as a sports photographer, I’ve attended races at several other tracks, but it was going to be different to have one in my back yard, just a short drive up Interstate 71.

  • It’s an irony of the modern age that the most devastating kind of sex scandal, at least for politicians, doesn’t involve actual sex. As Rep. Anthony Weiner has learned.
    Weiner, who resigned Thursday, assured his own demise years ago when he began sending raunchy pictures and sex-talk messages to random women over the Internet. He would have been better off if he had arranged to meet those women for secret trysts — not that there’s any indication that the women had the slightest interest in meeting Weiner for such purposes.

  • Many Kentuckians are struggling in this economy, and I know they are frustrated by how hard it is just to stay above water. Home values are falling, automobile sales growth is at its lowest point this year, and manufacturing growth is at its lowest in nearly two years. One in ten Kentuckians are unemployed. And polls show most Americans remain pessimistic about a recovery.

  • I don’t want to alarm you or interrupt your daily Rep. Anthony Weiner twitter updates but while you were watching the jabs taken by the Democrats over Sarah Palin’s recount of Paul Revere’s famous ride and the Republicans rip Obama on any topic under the sun, we had a primary election in Kentucky.
    It’s been almost a month now that the election took place but I thought it was probably a good idea to mention it since only around 10 percent of the voters even bothered to head to the polls in May.

  • A soul for a piece of bread. Misery makes the offer; society accepts.
    Quote from Les Miserables

    I must sound like a broken record, but something really unique and breathtaking is happening down at the Opera House. I’m talking about the performances being put on by The Central Kentucky Community Theatre Group.

  • Oops, he missed it again — the date for the rapture, that is. But that’s OK. Miscalculating the date for the end times is nothing new for Harold Camping.
    In 1992 he published his book, “1994?” in which he predicted Sept. 6, 1994, as the beginning of the end.  Undeterred by that non-happening, Camping did some re-calculating and published another book in 2008, “We Are Almost There!” He conveniently forgot to mention his 1994 prediction’s failure to launch.

  • And so we talked all night about the rest of our lives; Where we’re gonna be when we turn 25
    I keep thinking times will never change
    Keep on thinking things will always be the same
    Lyrics from “Graduation (Friends Forever)”

    You ever hear of the above graduation song before?
    I love it, yet it always leaves me a little sad.

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  • I could have sworn my dog, Max, quietly napping on my left side, perked up when Diane Sawyer introduced the story about the Navy SEAL dogs on the evening news. Max’s brother, Baylor, with eyes half closed, was perched like a cat on the arm of the couch. But when Diane mentioned those heroic dogs, he snapped to attention, instantly turning his head in the direction of the television.
    At least I thought he did.
    My miniature Schnauzers are about as close to being Navy SEAL dogs as I am to being a Navy SEAL. But we three enjoyed the story anyway.

  • What is famous?
    If you take Merriam-Webster’s word for it, the word famous means that a person is widely known, or honored for achievement.
    If you take my word, famous has a whole new meaning, and it’s kind of sad.
    I was working The Kentucky Derby this past Saturday, and the main reason I was there was to photograph the race for newspapers throughout the parent company of The Springfield Sun.