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Columns

  • Great reasons to rideee"a trike or a bike

    People my age and older like to talk about the “good old days” before bike helmets, safe playgrounds and after-school activities when kids were free to run wild in the neighborhood, knock their noggins on asphalt and skin their knees with abandon.

    I’ve been known to do that before, but even I have to admit, now that I’m a mom of an energetic 6-year-old, that it’s better to be safe than sorry.

  • From the big screen to real lifeee"gatekeepers become personal nightmares

    I’ll never forget my first experience with a gatekeeper.

    I was a little girl, watching the movie “Ghostbusters” with my family. Everything was going OK for me until this scary woman came on the screen. She was perfectly normal until—BAM. She became possessed—and a little crazy.

    With her face twisted up and her hair askew, she thrashed and screamed, “I am the gatekeeper!”

  • For tweet's sake: Shared self-indulgence in 140 characters or less

    The literati, the glitterati and the Twitterati invaded our great nation’s capital last week for one of the most exclusive events on the social calendar, The White House Correspondents’ Association Dinner.

    Once heralded as the “it” event for Washington’s media elite, this year’s event, which now spans several days, lunches, brunches, dinners, parties and meetings, was a melding of journalists, celebrities, professional athletes—most of whom want you to know what they’re doing in 140 characters of less.

  • Here’s hoping new 'Trek' franchise lives long and prospers

    For years, we’ve been called geeks, nerds and weirdoes for loving the old fashioned “Star Trek” TV show, the new TV franchises and the big screen adaptations.

    We’ve heard the annoying putdowns from non-Trekkies that made little sense, which just infuriated us more. (“You like Star Track? What’s the difference between that and Star Wars? Is Yoda in it?”)

    We’ve been told to “get a life” by none other than our hero, William Shatner himself, in a hilarious “Saturday Night Live” sketch.

  • Celebrating Mother's Day and remembering little moments that shape memories

    They were my favorite, although likely far from stylish. The red, onesie pajamas my mom had gotten me that year of my youth delighted me.

  • Ash nursery cultivates Brunswick County’s newest strawberry field

    LAURA LEWIS

    ASH—You might say having a baby is what spurred Katherine and Billy Ingram’s new venture into raising strawberries this year.

    Indirectly, it’s true.

    For the past 19 years, they’ve been in the plant nursery business, Katherine said last week on May Day, standing at the Ingrams’ Waccamaw River Farm & Nursery on Kingtown Road in Ash.

    For years, they drove delivery trucks, carting plants cultivated at their nursery to chain stores.

  • Letters to the editor show concerns of people all ages

    Letters to the editor are a popular feature of most newspapers.

    Readers get the chance to voice opinions on a plethora of concerns, from local to national to global, or just want to inform readers of events of information.

  • Relay raises money, awareness and memories

    Before I became “Mom” and had other responsibilities, I spent several Friday nights during the local Relay For Life sleeping underneath a funeral home tent or in my car.

  • President’s final stretch to 100th day punctuated by tasteless photo op

    A marriage of poor taste and pure stupidity unfolded over Lower Manhattan on Monday when Air Force One buzzed Ground Zero.

    As it flew low over Manhattan, Air Force One—sans Mr. President, so I guess it was just a really expensive Boeing 747—was tailed by two fighter jets.

    People panicked, evacuated buildings and frantically called 911 in a state of what I can only imagine was sheer terror—evoking the frightening and permanent memories of the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks.

  • Say thank you to teachers for educating your children

    As I peek around the corner of his bedroom, I see my son, Levi, sleeping soundly. He’s stretched out in this crib, with his arm around his stuffed dog.

    I dread the battle ahead of me. I know Levi will cry and scream as I wake him from his peaceful sleep and get him dressed for day care. But it’s what I have to do. The fit will only last a short time. As soon as we are out the door, he will be happy again. That’s because he knows he’s going to day care.