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Columns

I don’t sing much anymore.

It’s not that I don’t want to sing. I have always enjoyed singing, but my voice just doesn’t wish to cooperate in the activity. Sometimes it works like a pipe organ, where birds have nested in some of the pipes so my voice can’t hit those notes. Eventually, the birds fly off, leaving the proverbial frog who often visits my throat and adds his croak to my tones.

All noble Americans agree that slavery is the most disgraceful chapter in America’s history book. I stress to millennial relatives that the “n-word” is among the most hateful they could ever carelessly utter. I’ve never used the word and never will.

AMEND CORNER: Of walls and bigots

Well, it’s time to put on my loyal opposition hat again and talk about politics.

As you well know, my mind occasionally gets overloaded with dangling thoughts, and like a woman seeking breast reduction, must get it all off my chest. Otherwise I walk around with a brain full of unexpressed opinions that weigh me down, often leading to a pronounced stutter. I’m funny that way.

Las Vegas has not been good to me. She’s an uncaring, self-absorbed mistress, yet I love her like no other.

Elk hunting holds a special place in my heart because elk was the first animal I pursued as a hunter. I harvested my first cow elk at the age of 12; last fall — 18 years later — I would harvest my first bull elk.

Ever since November, Republicans have been gloating about what they would do when they took office.

AMEND CORNER: When sorrows come …

There’s an old saying that trouble comes in threes.

It’s a bit of superstition that has no basis in fact, of course. Still, there are times when life sends us one sad event after another, which is what happened to me in recent weeks. This time, though the troubles came in a group of four.

I wish Gib was writing this column.

That’s not only because I miss him, but because he had a certain way with words.

If you’re acutely-astute, you probably noticed it’s not my photo. Actually, a handsome, successful, young friend gracefully agreed to substitute his photo in lieu of my haircut next week. Like you, I’ve grown repulsed by my bedraggled, outdated photo.

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