I’ve always been a carnivore.
Beef, chicken and pork — they’re all on the menu. I’m an equal-opportunity consumer.
I have certain convictions about which I am inflexible.
What a crazy week.
Humorist Erma Bombeck said, “All of us have times in our lives that test our courage. Taking children into a house with white carpet is one of them.” Dealing with the best of times and the worst of times is another.
This Father’s Day, my mind is drifting to memories of my grandfathers.
Last Monday started like any Monday for me: Several cups of coffee, the weekly Good News section deadline and sorting out the newsroom payroll.
My name is Brandon A. Lane, and I have a confession, I’m a horror movie addict. So much so that I parlayed the love of watching them into a career of living a horror movie all year long.
It is a unifying, aggravating, irritating, dreaded and sometimes nearly disrobing moment for patients: the weigh-in for an office visit.
Sitting, huddled in my living room with only one small lamp fighting back the gloom of night, I glaced at my watch: 2 a.m.
It was the then I realized I had a problem — not with the bottle or a hard-to-kick prescription pill, but something much less sinister: Ancestry.com.
“You had me at hello.”
Thursday evening my family and I were enjoying a beautiful evening at the Sevierville City Park, when something caught my eye.
“I’ve never done this before,” I said to my patient sitting in my office.
I’ve always been a bookworm.
Once in a while a person is fortunate enough to bear witness to a special moment.
I've lived in the South all of my life.
The National Anthem was a troubling song when I was growing up.
Little boys learn which sport to love from their fathers. For some, it’s baseball, others football or basketball - even hockey. Although Pop liked all sports, he loved boxing.
As the end of the school year approaches, many of the local high school drama clubs and choral classes are having their end of the year shows.
Every fourth year medical student knows the date. They have no other plans that morning.
What do you get when you give 200-plus college kids a week off and the keys to a 190-acre, multimillion-dollar summer camp facility?
Leaving the seat up. Not using the hamper. Close-talking.
Coach Malcolm Pendergrass gave each of us football players a summer workout running program. It was the spring of 1984 and we had mightily moved the Harriman football program from a winless 0-10 season in 1982 to a 3-7 season in 1983 (well, it seemed mighty to us). He wanted us in better shape in the fall. He wasn’t going to monitor us or have us write down how much we did. He expected we wanted to be better and would do it. We did.
With teachers and students on spring break in Sevier County this past week, it almost felt as if I, too, had a week of vacation.