About a month ago I received a letter from Evelyn Fitzgerald Hyde of Buford who is writing a book about the Hyde family of Coweta County. Evelyn was seeking an obituary on a Maurice Herman Hyde, born 23 April 1931, who had died recently and was from Coweta County.

As the year ends, I would like to make a few observations. These conclusions are, of course, only my opinion, but, since this is an opinion column, it seems appropriate. Others, thanks be to the American culture and to the United States Constitution, are free to agree, disagree, or totally ignore them.

In the Atheist Age — the age of Richard Dawkins, Philip Pullman and others whose verbal assaults on God bedeck the best-seller lists — it might seem barren to celebrate a stable, a star and a baby, these being the central figures of Christmas.

So I like to eat, lie around and not exercise. Is that a crime?

Nope, but my doctor said it’s unhealthy. He told me to get an exercise plan, lose weight and get back into shape.

Apparently there is nobody among either the Democrats or the Republicans who is going to cause a runaway stampede like that which toppled all the Republican front-runners in 1940, when the convention delegates began loudly chanting “We want Wilkie!”

One of the traits of a cult is its refusal to consider any evidence that might disprove the faith. And so it is doubtful the global warming cultists will be moved by 400 scientists, many of whom, according to the Washington Times, “are current or former members of the U.N. Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) that shares the 2007 Nobel Peace Prize with Mr. Gore for publicizing a climate crisis.”

[Provided by the Georgia Public Policy Foundation]

The following are excerpts from an interview with the Honorable Clarence Thomas, an Associate Justice of the U.S. Supreme Court since 1991, about his new book: “My Grandfather’s Son: A Memoir.”

Last year as New Year’s approached, a reporter called and asked for my resolutions for the upcoming year for a story she was doing.

All the hosts of heaven, it seemed, were jostling and pushing their way toward the Great Hall of Justice. The commotion frightened a young angel caught up in the crowd.

I know there are two sides to every story, but the way this Bobby Petrino exit from the Atlanta Falcons came across reminds us that, as our mothers told us growing up, honesty is always the best policy.

His name isn’t yet familiar to most Americans, but I expect it will be by the end of 2008: Jose A. Rodriguez Jr. He is the man, according to recent press reports, who ordered the destruction of interrogation tapes made by the CIA, which allegedly show the effects of waterboarding and other “enhanced interrogation techniques” used against terrorists Abu Zubaydah and Abd al-Rahim al-Nashiri.

Move over, Martin Luther King Jr., and your desire for a colorblind society. The University of California system prefers a color-coordinated one.

Here’s a Christmas story that might make you cry, but not for sentimental reasons. The town of Great Barrington, Mass., population 7,000, has ordered a curfew on “holiday” lights this season because of global warming.

I know there are two sides to every story, but the way this Bobby Petrino exit from the Atlanta Falcons came across reminds us that, as our mothers told us growing up, honesty is always the best policy. Obviously, I was not within earshot of previous conversations between Petrino and Falcons owner Arthur Blank before his infamous December 11 resignation from the Falcons and subsequent joining the Arkansas Razorbacks as head coach hours later. So I don’t who said what.

Even though I've temporarily shelved the Byrams until I can find something documentable to prove Beverly Byram's children, I want to thank the people who wrote in last week and sent a little more information on William Dawson Byram (son of James William Byram and grandson of Beverly Byram) who moved from Pike County, Ga. to Blountville, Ala. I could not find him in any census, although I did several searches with several variations on the name.

There is an article in the current issue of The Chronicle of Higher Education — the trade publication of the academic world — about professors being physically intimidated by their students.

I’ve just now figured it out — the right conservative candidate for these confused and disturbing times. I’m voting for Barry Goldwater, and nothing can stop me. Save — I admit — the inconvenience of Barry’s residence in a venue other than the land of the living.

Every three years, the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) conducts its Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA). PISA is a set of tests that measure 15-year-olds’ performance in mathematics, science and reading.

When The Wife was in third grade, her parents gave her a special birthday present. Usually receiving birthday gifts from your parents isn’t all that unusual, but this gift certainly was. A peel-and-stick puzzle of the United States. Each state had a removable capital and a symbol of the main export. Georgia’s capital is Atlanta, and our symbol is peaches.

It asks for miraculous powers of revision to not see a show on television at night and satisfy ourselves that by abiding by the protocols of collective bargaining we are fighting for the survival of essential American rights. The law is an ass, a humbug, if it is defined by the number of people whose rights are being affirmed by neglecting them entirely.

My family engaged in a tradition this past weekend. We celebrated “cookie day.” It’s not on the calendar, of course, but it is an annual event nonetheless. My wife’s birthday is Dec. 18 and, a few years ago after the grandchildren started to arrive, she decided that, on or near her birthday, the family would have Cookie Day. That’s the only gift she wants from the kids — bring the grandchildren to Cookie Day.

Do you know the story of the Incredible Disappearing Border Fence? It’s an object lesson in gesture politics and homeland insecurity. It’s a tale of hollow rhetoric, meaningless legislation and bipartisan betrayal. And in the run-up to the Iowa caucuses, it’s a helpful learning tool as you assess the promises of immigration enforcement converts now running for president.

A Stone Soup cartoon saved from several years ago:

Two women at the water fountain, co-workers, bemoaning how much there is to do at Christmas: decorating, shopping, wrapping, writing cards, baking cookies, all the social events and children’s pageants.

Here’s a Christmas carol story.

My first job was playing Christmas carols. I was hired Dec. 15, 1959 at age 15 for a two-hour disk jockey slot on a little 250-watt AM station not far from the bluffs of the Chattahoochee River. My first official action was to cue up Percy Faith’s version of “The Hallelujah Chorus” from Handel’s “Messiah.”

As we wait patiently for the Republican version of a local platform, thoughts turn to just what the Republicans bring to local government in Fayette County.

Why should Major League Baseball (MLB) be immune to the cultural depravity that has touched every area of public life — from politics to religion, from corporate life to personal relationships?

Given the decision-making power of Santa Claus on the matter of gifts, my children make sure they leave Mr. Claus some seriously good cookies on Christmas Eve. However, most children don’t know that there is much more to the real Saint Nick than toys and cookies. In addition to being generous, the jolly fellow could easily be considered the patron saint of purity.

At a Thanksgiving luncheon, I was holding my 18-month-old nephew, Tripp, as I visited tables to speak to folks. I stopped and greeted a friend, patting him on his back. Tripp watched quietly then leaned down, stretching out his little arm and patted Billy, too, in that awkward, uncoordinated way that babies have.

In a recent radio interview I was asked the hypothetical question: “If you had to choose between candidate A who did not profess to be a Christian but had extensive political experience and candidate B who was a devout Christian but only had limited political experience, who would you vote for?”

“Hurry up and wait!” is the sardonic phrase a lot of us use to describe the phenomenon of having to rush to get someplace on time only to have to wait before whatever event it is comes to pass. In the past 10 years, I’ve come to think of the season of Advent illustrating that very phenomenon.