Almost every time I head over to the local work-out joint, there’s some petition circulators waiting. They scurry up and ask for my signature on a proposed ballot initiative that would make it harder for state legislators to change laws that voters have passed at the ballot box.

You are not going to believe this, but some guy recently offered me $200 for my high school football jersey. Considering I likely didn’t get $200 worth out of it while standing on the sidelines at Palmer High School, you have to think I should have marked it sold.

If you were one of the critics and, like me, thought that Scott Frost preached the importance of culture too much, then there is a good chance that you know that in my writing I have a word that starts with the same letter that I often use as a crutch.

Some state capitol watchers say they can’t relax until state legislators go home for the year. As a reporter who chased the occupants of the “Hall of Hot Winds” for too many decades, I can attest that the fire drill-like finish to legislative sessions leaves you ready for something different.

There may be no better window into your past way of thinking than what you discover while moving. In my three decades and change on this earth, I have learned that you can tell a lot about a person, including yourself, while sifting through the items that they have either collected over the course of a lifetime or have elected to keep throughout the years.

Spring is planting time in Nebraska. But the looming primary election on May 12th for United States Senate is also, allegedly, quite a planting session, generating competing claims that candidates are “plants” to help or hurt the two leading candidates.

“To the Arch by March.” That was the scary slogan circulating throughout Omaha back in the 1980s when both Union Pacific and ConAgra were threatening to move their corporate headquarters out of the River City. (U.P.

Apparently, there is more than one way to make a fruit salad. Frankly, while it seems like a logical conclusion, it is something that I hadn’t really ever thought about.

For the second time this week, while proofreading the pages of one of our newspapers, I was reminded of a more unique Easter tradition that my cousins and I participated in. A tradition that, back in the day, left our pockets jingling.

The Nebraska Legislature began talking about “exterrestrials” the other day, and well, who could pass up writing about that? I have a buddy who insists that an alien craft hovered over his acreage outside of Ashland. There’s another buddy who is convinced that he was followed by an alien ship while driving down a remote western Nebraska highway.