I spent the weekend sleeping off a Homecoming-sized hangover, where no alcohol was involved, and I was only vaguely aware of the weekend which didn’t give me many stories to tell this week.
It’s homecoming week, and in the community newspaper world, it means I’ve been strolling down my particular memory lane through honest-to-God newspaper clippings and yearbooks.
The road trip to Canadian on Friday was nice. I mean, it did take a little over three hours, but I kept reminding myself when, back in the day, the speed limit was 55 mph, and the same trip would take like two days, with a half dozen more pit stops.
Right behind the smell of hazelnut coffee and citing Infowars or Occupy Democrats as a news source, my biggest pet peeve is weathermen and women who feel they must stand in the torrential rains that follow a hurricane in order to adequately portray the seriousness of it.
When I hear someone complain about the taste of the local water these days, I turn into my cranky grandpa and say “you big sissy. You obviously didn’t live through the the horrible, awful putrid summer of 1970.”
