WJCT, the NPR-affiliate in Jacksonville, Fla., played one of my award-winning columns and had me on for a brief interview on June 29. Didn’t sound too bad, if I do say so myself. (But radio is way more terrifying than typing words!) You can hear the piece here: http://news.wjct.org/post/first-coast-connect-humor-columnist-receives-national-award And here’s the full podcast with interview. I come on around the 45th minute: http://cpa.ds.npr.org/wjct/audio/2016/06/fcc20160629.mp3?origin=body
Thompson wins award from National Society of Newspaper Columnists
My weekly column in The St. Augustine Record won a second place award for humor writing in the National Society of Newspaper Columnists’ 2016 Column Contest. The awards were handed out at NSNC’s 40th annual conference in Los Angeles on June 25, and I had to be there … just to make sure it was for real. Because I didn’t believe it until I could see it for myself. BUT IT WAS REAL!!! The award was in the humor category for print newspapers under 50,000 circulation, and it’s the first national award I’ve received for my column. The NSNC gave out more than 25 awards at its 2016 conference, and also recognized Pulitzer Prize winning-columnist Leonard Pitts Jr. and “Dear Abby” author Jeanne Phillips. Dang! Talk about good company. Read more about it: http://www.columnists.com/2016/06/2016-column-contest-winners-announced-in-los-angeles/ Check out the three award-winning columns here (and yes, one of them is a letter to a cat!): • A letter to Little Joe, the cat • A TRUE Disney dream come true • Light bulb insanity
The taming of the yard
What does a fountain say about a yard? A fancy, sophisticated fountain. A big one, bubbling and gurgling with delight. There are few sounds better than that soft, flowing collision of water. It doesn’t take much — just a splatter or two — and it will transform a mood. Calm the senses. Make you say things like, “Nirvana!” (And I don’t even know what that means.) That’s what we just installed in our backyard — a fountain. Amidst some fresh pine needles. Where I tore up all the roots and vines. Where I just landscaped. The child’s fort and swings are down. The chicken — there’s only one now — is no longer allowed to dig her bomb craters and root around in the pine needles. The dog is banned from cutting ruts like tank tracks. Now the fountain is the coup de grace. (And I don’t know what that means, either.)
A summer in The Rockies
What’s a Floridian know about altitude? About elevation? About snow and moose? These were the questions I was pondering as we stopped the car along Rocky Mountain National Park’s Trail Ridge Road. Some 12,000 feet up in the air. Two miles above the sea level where I normally plant my feet. It was 46 degrees at midday, and there were wild critters running about — elk, bighorn sheep and mischievous-looking marmots. The marmots looked like they wanted me to hand over my car keys. Oh yeah, and there was a wall of snow taller than my car. A snow plow had carved through it just a few days before. (Nobody told Colorado it’s June — summer! — and it should be so hot outside that ice cubes spontaneously combust.) Y’all, we ain’t in Florida anymore.
Getting ready for tropical weather, Floridian-style
Clearly, we’ve got some work to do. I don’t mean to make light of a serious situation … it’s just what I do. But if there’s one thing that little puff of a Tropical Storm Colin taught us, it’s that we no longer know what we’re doing. We’re tropical turnips. We Floridians have gone far too long without serious weather threatening us. We’ve atrophied from battle-hardened, tropical troopers to sad, clueless chimps. (“So is a tropical storm when you crouch under your desk in fetal position or when you bring all the plants and cats in?!?”) I feel you, friends. And that’s why I think Colin was a great wake-up call — a reminder to be better prepared in case a far-worse storm comes. Here are some of the most important lessons I learned this week: • I don’t have a “mother” plan. This is not “what to do with my mother” — for the most part, she’s plenty capable of taking care of herself. What I’m referring to is a plan for how I DEAL with my mother. For instance, like the phone call I got at work on the day of the storm. It went something like this: Mom: “Brian, I need you to come over and move the silver to a higher location in case it floods.” Me: “Mom, it’s already in the attic!” Mom: “Yes, but I want you to take it up to a storage center in Charlotte, N.C., just to be safe.” Was NOT […]
Those summer beach things that we Floridians know
Every Memorial Day Weekend two things happen: I remember those who served and sacrificed for our country. It’s the meaning of the holiday. But then I inevitably traipse off to the beach with family in tow and am reminded of what it means to be a Floridian as summer sets in. It’s the weekend when we Floridians emerge from our cocoons and rediscover a world filled with sun, sand, waves and incredible tans that make us look like coconut-scented gods. And it’s all thanks to the time-honored tricks of the trade we’ve learned from living in a tropical paradise. As I sat on the beach this past weekend, I pondered the rules we know as residents of this sun-drenched state. • Rule #1 – Ice cream always dies a tragic death at the beach. On average, it only takes 3 seconds to wilt a Rocket Pop. Which is why the only time to eat it is at 9:30 in the morning. That’s what the smart Floridians do. It’s the only way to protect your expensive investment. “Dad, can I have an ice cream?” my daughter asked. “It’s 10 a.m.!” I replied. “Why’d you wait so long? You shouldn’t have wasted time brushing your teeth this morning.”