By Carl Sampson By and large, I think mothers are under appreciated. I can just see approximately half of the readers of this column nodding in agreement. Though I’ve never personally been a mother, I do know that good mothers are in short supply. I had a mother myself. I suppose I still do, technically speaking. She’s been dead a […]
By Carl Sampson I’m not much for New Year’s resolutions. To me, a resolution is something I’d like to do during the New Year but probably won’t. Like the four times I resolved to lose 30 pounds. Or the time I resolved either to go jogging or work out every day. I never got past the “either.” My resolutions were […]
By Carl Sampson We have been lucky enough to host an exchange student for the past couple of months. He will be with us through the end of the school year. His name is Tak and he’s from Japan. Tak is a fairly typical 15-year-old boy, and fits in well with our crew, which consists of a 16-year-old and an […]
By Carl Sampson A plain, brown manila envelope arrived in the mail the other day. In it was a spiral-bound book titled The Crash of 44-87741. The book was about the time I almost died. I should back up a bit in telling my story. My father was a career Air Force officer. He was drafted during World War II […]
Hang in there. In just a little over a month, it’ll all be over, including the shouting. Yep, once Election Day has passed, we can all return to civility.
I have a complaint. In an article called “Men on Fire,” a recent edition of the AARP Magazine listed the 21 “hottest guys on the planet.”
I’ve been following with great interest all of the legal and political shenanigans involving Obamacare.
You know the saying: “Everyone faces temptation, it’s how you react that matters.” Or something like that.
Welcome to my Facebook page.
First, the important stuff.
In a relationship with, uh, wait a minute and I’ll think of her name.
When I grow up I want to be — drum roll, please — a Muppet! That’s right, I want to be a fuzzy-faced, freaky-looking, fun-loving force of unnature.
I was thinking about the Ten Commandments the other day. It’s not that I’m super religious or anything, but when you get older you start trying to put two and two together.
Faithful readers may remember that in my previous columns I’ve fixed Social Security and the national health care system — and offered a great recipe for linguini with clam sauce.
That darn dog. It is exchange day, the time when Ike will go to another family for six months.
Wait just a cotton-picking minute. We’ve been robbed. When I was a kid, I distinctly remember reading a book about the future.
I approached the lunch counter. “May I help you?” “Yes, I’d like to order two hotdogs, please.” “What would you like on them?” “Nothing. In fact, I don’t need the buns. And don’t cook them, either.” This is my life these days.
Everything I know about teenagers, I learned from puppies. OK, that may be a bit of an overstatement, but at the same time, there’s a lot of truth in it.
Unlike my many young friends who believe civilization began with the invention of the Internet — thanks for nothing, Al Gore — I can’t wait for the time when we all get our heads back together and communicate civilly.
Last spring we moved to a new neighborhood, and I love it. The neighbors are quiet, and every morning I spend a few minutes with them during my daily walk.
I’ve just about had it with this whole hooked-in, wired-up Internet and cell phone thing. To me, it’s more like a hung-up and stressed-out thing.
You’ve probably seen the video of the folks in Sweden who turned a flight of stairs into a piano keyboard. As passers-by walked up the stairs, each step played a note.
It may not exactly come as a surprise to you, but I don’t like city living. Oh, I drift up to Portland occasionally for a concert, wedding or other event, but inevitably find myself glad to be home.
In my family, spring and summer represent a gauntlet of celebrations. Anniversaries and birthdays crowd the calendar. Throw in Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Memorial Day and the Fourth of July, and it seems as though something – or someone – is celebrated nearly every week.
I know this is the time of year when kids are twitterpated about the end of the school year.
They think it’s great that they won’t have to get out of bed in the middle of the night to be at school on time, get to all of their sports and drama practices on time and get to all of the other activities on time.
Well, I’m here to tell you, they don’t know the half of it. Who got them out of bed in the middle of the night? Who got them to school on time? Who got them to all of their sports and drama practices?
Oops, I left out piano practices.
If you guessed that it was mom and dad, you were right. In our house, no one celebrates the end of the school year like the Sampson Wake Up and Taxi Service. As sole proprietors, my wife and I will get a chance to park the mini-van and take the summer off.
We recently had some family photos taken. I can never get over the fact my wife and kids always look good — just the way they do in real life — and I am always replaced by a fat old guy.
In previous columns, I have provided cures for both the Social Security and the U.S. health care systems. Today, I’ll take a few minutes to cure the current economic “crisis,” otherwise known as the screw-up hindering our kids’ future.
