Don\'t Ask Why
Written by David Vogel Tuesday, 22 May 2012 15:21In spring 2002, a 12-year-old walked into his hometown newspaper office, dropped a portfolio of writing samples on the editor’s desk and told the editor that he wanted to write a column.
I’m still not sure why, but the editor said yes, and 10 years ago—on May 22—the Hillsboro Free Press printed the first installment of this column.
It was supposed to run just for the extent of that summer, I’m assuming because the interests of a sixth- going on seventh-grader are likely to change...
Written by Hillsboro Free Press Tuesday, 15 May 2012 14:39Welcome, friends, family, students, faculty and staff, alumni, members of the board and bored members of the audience.
You’ve all gathered at this football stadium for one reason on this hot and windy Saturday, and that is to honor the hard work of this bunch of students.
No, you’ve really all gathered here for the free food afterward. But we’re doing the ceremony now, and they gave me the microphone.
This day has been 17 years in the making for us. We’ve essayed, hypothesized, calculated, theorized, researched, experimented and dissected our way to these seats. We’ve suffered late nights, early mornings, hot coffee, cold pizza, exhaustive lecture notes and vague study guides. And through it all, this is the moment we’ve...
Written by David Vogel Tuesday, 01 May 2012 15:08You know how in the “Beverly Hillbillies” theme song ol’ Jed is out shooting for some food, but he shoots the ground instead and accidentally discovers oil?
Well, I know how he must of felt. Sort of. Instead of discovering black gold, I discovered a black hair on my head.
If this doesn’t sound like a miraculous discovery, stop reading this column for just a moment and look at my mug shot. That is a guy whose darkest physical features is his pupils.
I’ve always been a blonde. I’ve weathered the jokes and severe sunburns. Suffering because of my hair color is something I’ve become accustomed to.
And yet, as I was fixing my hair this morning—a process that can take up to 10 seconds—front and center was this jet black...
Written by David Vogel Tuesday, 17 April 2012 14:42These past couple of weeks have been a bit on the drizzly side, and I’ve been standing around like a restless flamingo. Shoes make the man, the axiom goes, and when there’s a hole in the shoe it makes the man soggy.
My favorite pair of shoes is from the TOMS company, which sends a pair to a little international bare-footed kid for every pair that is purchased by an idealistic American consumer. I got these shoes two years ago, and up until recently they had seemed to retain their newness.
That is, until I was walking to class in the rain last week and became waterlogged from the bottom up.
A hole, it’s been said, is the only item to grow bigger when more is taken from it. Apparently my left shoe was harboring such a...
Written by David Vogel Tuesday, 03 April 2012 15:24If it weren’t for the Red Cross, America would never meet its annual quota for consumed ham sandwiches. And you can help.
While at the Tulsa mall during spring break, I visited the blood drive I saw near the entrance while wife Hanna got a haircut.
It seemed more productive than sitting at the salon flipping through Clinton-era stylebooks.
Donating blood has been a hobby for me since my sophomore year of high school when the FFA kids hosted a drive in the gym. A cotton ball taped to my inner elbow—or “anicubital space”—was my substitute badge of courage since I was the pasty guy who never tried out for football.
Before that, though, the idea of giving blood brought to mind images of Dracula. Maybe it does for you, too...
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