Columnist John Moore likes the fall season the best. The temperature cools and the costumes come out. Photo: John Moore One of my most vivid memories of fall happened during junior high. I was standing in the end zone prior to the start of a football game. I could...
One of my most vivid memories of fall happened during junior high. I was standing in the end zone prior to the start of a game. I could barely feel my fingers and toes. It was October, but it was unusually cold (Al Gore had yet to invent global warming). My shoulder...
They were called, “Victory Gardens.” And they were one of the weapons US citizens used to help win World War II. With the bad guys throwing everything at us that they could, in return, we were throwing everything at them that we could. By John Moore To Login to read...
Most seasons, when my son was playing little league baseball, I would coach his team. One season I couldn’t coach and so he got thrown into the draft with all the other kids. It was a disaster. The coach he got was terrible. He argued with the parents, he...
PK Grill, courtesy photo. By John Moore | thecountrywriter.com Ever have one of those moments where something in your head says you need to do something, but you’re not sure why? Recently, a memory I have of my grandfather cooking on a charcoal grill sparked that...
Auto tune. Ever heard of it? Neither had any of the singers and songwriters we grew up with. Today, technology has taken the place of many things. Including real talent. Auto tune is a device that can take someone who sings off key and tune them to where it sounds as...
It’s been a strange year. Just hit another birthday (not one ending in a zero), but another birthday, nonetheless. My 30th high school reunion is approaching this weekend, I didn’t attend the 10, or 20 year (no major reason why) so it is going to be a...
If there was one thing Ashdown, Arkansas had when I was growing up, it was plenty for kids to do. During the summer months, activities included baseball, day trips to swim at the lake, visiting kinfolk, and spending the night at a friend’s house. And of course, lawn...
Forty-five years ago, my mother began collecting a series of antique canning jars. I can’t remember why this happened, but my best guess is that she came across one that was unique, she liked it, and she bought it. This purchase would start a chain reaction and a...
