Playing softball is one of my favorite activities, but this Fall softball began to reveal the sad fact that I'm slowing down. Julio Franco I'm not.

This is one of those e-mail stories. I like it a lot. It's a true story of something that happened just a few years ago at a leading university.

I don’t watch too much Christian television these days. It’s not that I’m against it and I know that thousands of people are helped and ministered to by the different programs. I do watch the EWTN network some (the Eternal Word Television Network, a Roman Catholic broadcast) and I watch some of the local Atlanta-based church services once in a while. In general, though, I’ve become disillusioned with much of the offerings.

No one knows where the people in the woods actually came from or how long they had lived behind the vacant, dilapidated house on the corner of Flamingo Street and Beacher Hills. They had been there as long as any of us could remember – and Slow Moe could remember way back to the first grade. Some said they would always be among us.

Maybe you aren’t surprised that a grump like me is irritated that every day or week or month is named after some stupid special interest. But November is Adoption Awareness Month, and that shuts me up because this is my special interest.

I’m scaling back on Thanksgiving. Not on the giving of thanks for my many blessings but on the giving of food to people who have already had way too much to eat before they get to my house.

A recent article from the anthropology department said that human beings, and only human beings, do good things for others who will never know from whom the largesse came.

While it’s fresh in my mind, I thought I’d share a few comments about the movie “Jarhead.”

The term “jarhead” refers to members of the United States Marine Corps and comes from the idea that the “high and tight” haircuts of the Corps (spelled “corps,” never “corp”) look like the lids on a mason jar; hence “jarhead.”

Early in the morning is usually when it happens. Before the first yellow, orange finger rays of sunlight reach across the sky and screens its way through the blinds, there is but a moment. A special moment in time when dreams and reality mix before the fine line between them slowly ebbs away in the cool morning light.

I have a sister who breezes into town two or three times a year and freely dispenses advice. This, of course, is akin to going to the Graduate School of Mama.

A recent article from the anthropology department said that human beings, and only human beings, do good things for others who will never know from whom the largesse came.

I received this off the Internet and I can’t improve on it. I print it here in the form I received it.

The other day, my nine-year-old son wanted to know why we were at war. My husband looked at our son and then looked at me. My husband and I were in the Army during the Gulf War and we would be honored to serve and defend our country again today. I knew that my husband would give him a good explanation.

I received an e-mail recently from Fran Gillich, who believes she is connected to the Bennetts of Fayette County. However, proof of the connection has eluded her for years.

My wife and I have this ongoing disagreement. I have come to grips with the realization that this disagreement will never be settled and, at the end of our days, she will still hold her position and I will hold mine. The subject is “nurses’ caps,” or the lack thereof.

After reading the title of this article, you might be expecting some thoughtful insight into a happy married life. Perhaps you think that after over four years of writing a weekly newspaper article, somehow I’ve been able to come up with some tidbit of knowledge that maybe you haven’t been able to grasp which will lead to marital bliss. Nope – sorry - I ain’t that good. But read on, it’s still a funny story. And like the other stories I write, it’s all true. Well, most of it, anyway.

By the time this publishes, the local election will be history. While I’m not embarrassed to say I’m voting against rather than for, I don’t feel particularly passionate about any of this year’s candidates. At least not in a positive way.

Sometimes you just know. You can actually feel the knowledge crawling around in the marrow of your bones, so deep is the way you know it.

As Veterans Day approaches, think about this. 2000 Census data says 66 percent of Americans over 65 are veterans while less than 8 percent of those under age 65 are veterans. About one-half of 1 percent of our citizens are on active duty in the Armed Forces.

As many of you may know, I love history, all kinds of history. I love history because I love people, and am serious about the way we treat each other. History is very useful because when you overlay that with Christian thought, and the words and practice of Jesus, you have quite a different approach to life.

One of the easiest things for some people to find is fault. There's a lot of criticism and fault-finding out there. In fact, criticism is the one thing many think is more blessed to give than to receive.

"Where are you from?" he asked. The question came from a businessman in Peachtree City not long after I moved to the area during the summer of 1983.

Gas can kill! Trust me. I know. After Twin Brother Mark ate broccoli at dinner, by bedtime he was deadly. When I was young, I thought that was the worst gas one could possible smell, but as a firefighter, I know that’s not the case. There’s one gas even more deadly than what was produced by Mom’s broccoli cheese casserole and Mark at bedtime. A gas you can’t even smell. Carbon monoxide!

It is what I like to call a country courtesy. It is a gesture of goodwill recognized by farmers and rural dwellers across the South.

A few thoughts about weddings:

There’s nothing unusual about wet faces at a wedding.

The role of the best man and the maid of honor is to keep things under control so the chief participants can enjoy their big moment.

Dear Father Paul: This is not a Bible question, but I see in today's Atlanta paper that the death toll of American military personnel in Iraq has just gone over 2,000. I know that you have spoken well of President Bush. What do you think of him now? — Denny, Fayetteville.

Many of us have been through the passing of a mother or father, and to say that this is the worst day of your life is a gross understatement. It is often far greater than the word “worst.” I believe God uses the family unit and the parent-child relationship to do His work here on earth.

I don't wear a wedding ring. It's not that I don't want people to know that I'm married, which I am, to the same woman for over 34 years, but I hocked my wedding ring.

When I got that F on my English paper, I wanted to run away. I was in the fourth grade, and Old Mrs. Crabtree had just handed back our first paper of the year. If you’d asked me before the red F showed up on it, I would’ve told you it was rather good.

I need some help for future columns. So far, I believe Ive only given threm ice cream and cotton candy. Help me with real, pertinent topics in the area oc church/religion.

David Smith is not only an old friend of mine, he is an important friend of mine.

He is important for many reasons: our friendship has endured for 20 years, we have many memories together, he is there for me through thick and thin and, best of all, I can count on him to pray for me.