Could it be that Highland County's representative in the Ohio House is the sacrificial lamb in the ongoing gerrymandering, er, redistricting saga? At first glance, I thought it was possible. Let me explain.

Could it be that Highland County's representative in the Ohio House is the sacrificial lamb in the ongoing gerrymandering, er, redistricting saga? At first glance, I thought it was possible. Let me explain.

The email from this first week of 2022 has been just about enough to send me into a Lee Elia-type tirade about career politicians with nice teeth and beauty parlor hair.

The email from this first week of 2022 has been just about enough to send me into a Lee Elia-type tirade about career politicians with nice teeth and beauty parlor hair.

PETA may be onto something with the elimination of baseball's bullpen. But they can't stop with just one Pyrrhic victory. They must work toward the ending of all animal-related terms that may or may not be the least bit offensive – not to one damned animal, of course – but to the moronic wokesters who follow the lead of similarly moronic individuals. Once again, in retrospect, Mr. Forsha was correct a decade ago. We need more cowbell. This, from a lifelong PETA (People Eating Tasty Animals) member.

More than one of our always appreciated Alert Readers brought it to my attention that last week's HCP print edition failed to include my usual column on Page 4. You'll have that. After publishing roughly 2,000 newspaper, magazine and online columns in the past three-plus decades, I am neither fatigued nor void of material. Frankly, I've just been busy.

As it is written in Matthew 6:27: "And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to his life?"

I think those publicly denouncing Neil Clark's book most likely have employed their respective attorneys to comb through it, page by page. They're reading it – at least in my opinion. I have not read Clark's book. But I will soon. I ordered a copy on Amazon this week. It's tough to imagine that Neil Clark's final words – with his knowledge that these were indeed his final words – would be anything less than truthful to the best of his memory.

Knowing a long drive south to the Gulf of Mexico was on my evening itinerary, I thought, what the heck, I'll order a nice meal. After placing our respective orders, the lovely waitress at the Saltine Hogshead returned with portions of those respective orders. She then informed us that "We're out of gravy. We're also out of biscuits – and cornbread. Not to mention sweet potato casserole." For an old Ridgerunner like me, there's just something not quite right when you have to choke down mashed potatoes and chicken fried cube steak – sans gravy.

Hillsboro and Highland County have lost two more icons in the community in recent days. As it is with so many of life's inevitables, these losses are reminders of how precious our own time is, but also how much others have contributed to our respective memories. Maybe some even lended a helping hand to us somewhere along the journey. These men did.

For the last half-century, give or take, I've had the southern Ohio pleasure of watching the change of seasons. By the calendar, each year begins with winter's hangover from the previous year. The coldest season soon gives way to spring, which passes the seasonal baton to summer, which, much to my chagrin, seems to surrender far too soon to autumn, which similarly throws up a white flag to winter in late December. And so it goes. Year after year. Season after season.

For the last half-century, give or take, I've had the southern Ohio pleasure of watching the change of seasons. By the calendar, each year begins with winter's hangover from the previous year. The coldest season soon gives way to spring, which passes the seasonal baton to summer, which, much to my chagrin, seems to surrender far too soon to autumn, which similarly throws up a white flag to winter in late December. And so it goes. Year after year. Season after season.

More years ago than either Coach Veidt or I care to remember, I was a younger newspaperman and covered Whiteoak baseball. My initial recollection of Coach Veidt was this: His teams had discipline, they hustled, and they were coached on the fundamentals of baseball. I liked that.

Some of my more conservative friends may disagree – and that's fine. But I'll stand by this: If the U.S. Congress had more Rob Portmans and fewer Nancy D'Alesandro Pelosis (like me, a Baltimoron by birth), it would be an actual functioning body on behalf of the citizens of the United States of America. As it exists today, Congress is a disjointed, disunited, disorderly house. (Inquiring minds may want to look up that last one – lest you miss out on the intended humor.)

I met Clarence Graham in the summer of 1990 at a bar and restaurant in Washington Court House. Three area newspapers were meeting to discuss a weekly football tab for the now-defunct South Central Ohio League, that included Jim Horne's Hillsboro Indians and Otis Wagner's McClain Tigers. Former publisher Phil Roberts and I rode together from Hillsboro to Court House. Along the way, Phil told me that among all Brown Publishing publishers, he had the greatest respect for Clarence Graham's editorial judgment. As a young sports editor, I simply put that information in my memory bank in case I might need it later on. I did.