Many parents will consider purchasing a piano (or guitar, a few brave ones consider a drum set) at Christmas for their child with visions of Carnegie Hall and beautiful concerts. Some do this from a secret desire to sneak in a few stealthy attempts at the piano themselves while others genuinely are hoping to introduce the love of music to their child.
This past Tuesday afternoon, I had to take some time off from work to travel to the burial of a relative who died the day after Thanksgiving.
Taking a break from work Friday to recover from Thursday’s Thanksgiving feast, my family and I decided to brave the wilds of Dollywood to take in a few Christmas shows and build on the growing anticipation my 4-year-old has for Dec. 25.
Thanksgiving can be a very difficult time for many people who have had great losses in their lives. Financial loss, marital and relationship failures, and the stress “to be happy” seems to be compounded by holidays. Parents who have lost their child to death, or those who have an unfulfilled desire for children, seem to struggle the most during the holidays.
As a child Christmas was a magical time.
One of the great places I enjoy visiting from time to time is Charleston, S.C.
I was raised to always try and be respectful to others, and I think — for the most part — I’ve always been able to follow that rule.
Dear Doctor Littleton: Do you believe supplements really help any?
Nearly every little boy dreams of one day being a soldier. I can vividly remember running through a neighboring farm’s 100-acre woods with my friends — toy guns of all shapes and sizes slung over our shoulders, wearing camouflage clothing and face paint, pretending we were at war with invading communist forces from the dreaded U.S.S.R.
Almost eight years ago today was the worst day at the office I’ve ever had. Nov. 8, 2005 was a day that would change my life, and that of everyone in my hometown, LaFollette, forever.
I suppose the biggest story going on right now is the government shutdown. What I say now was written over a week ago and I'm sure circumstances have changed; for the better I pray.
Dear Doc Littleton, I saw this article that said exercise was as good as medicine. Can I stop all these pills now?
I have long been fascinated by the island country south of the U.S. called Cuba. You have probably heard me mention that I love Cuban food and have eaten at Cuban restaurants in Disney’s Pleasure Island and in Key West. Someday I would like to visit Cuba.
With the rise of Netflix and Redbox for people’s weekend entertainment needs, the neighborhood video store is quickly becoming an endangered species.
The most significant improvement I have seen a patient have in their own physical and mental health in the past 10 years is clearly through increasing the amount of activity they do each day.
New York state courts are taking an innovative step in dealing with human trafficking — they’re going to start treating most prostitutes as victims of trafficking, rather than as criminals.
Last week I received a call from Sue Rolen who called to tell me that while working in the Fair Garden Cemetery she had discovered the graves of a man that she believed to be a confederate veteran and his wife.
There are roughly 200,000 bariatric surgeries done in the United States every year, mostly in accredited medical centers. Think of it as two full Neyland Stadiums of patients losing weight from surgery.
I read in an article recently that men reach emotional maturity later than women, and that the average man hasn’t “grown up” until around age 32.
I’m not sure how many thousands of dollars were spent studying the behavioral patterns of specially chosen, hand-selected “specimens” to come up with these results, but had the researchers come to my wife, she could have saved them a lot of cash.
As I write this, the U.S. is “mulling” over whether or not they should attack Syria. Before I get into the meat of this piece, I’d like to ask a question first.
Why don’t we just scan everybody with a CT scan to screen for lung cancer?
This may sound like an off-beat story line this time but, this is actually factual and is taking place as we speak.
It was 50 years ago. Summer. I was 13 and through with baseball but was offered the chance to work at the ballpark as a scorekeeper, making $1.50 a game. Three games a night.
(This column was first published in 1987 and has run every year at this time since then.)
A person my age can look back on a life of missed opportunities, wasted chances. Would-be fortunes have been lost. A lot of “if onlys...” I’ve had my share. But I’ve had blessings.