I'd like to make three bets today with any bookie who's reading. And I'll lay 1,000-to-1 odds, because I'm betting on the back alley favorite, the bread and butter, the breadth and depth and glue of any good society.
For Valentine's Day, my young son mailed construction-paper letters to friends near and far. On that list was a stamped letter to New England Patriots quarterback Tom Brady.
I wish there were some cheerleaders who could magically emerge out of this column while you're reading it. Six smiling cheerleaders, leaving little pompom trails all over your kitchen, back-flipping into your track lighting, each holding yellow signs that spell out one big word:
Just ask Drew Lindsey.
My last two columns have focused on Normal Park Magnet School. It's a heck of a place, but not the only school in town levitating kids to the educational rock that is higher.
I sat with Jill Levine in her office at Normal Park Museum Magnet School recently. She had a copy of my recent column -- the one I wrote about the nearby Hill City neighborhood being kept out of her school's zone -- on her desk.
There's a gun show this weekend at the Chattanooga Armory. Doors open at 9. What if we all went?
On the outside, this story is about a blond-headed boy with autism. But like a Valentine gift 10,000 times better than the wrapping paper it comes in, this story is really about something else.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Put it on your calendar: For 100 days this summer, some of the smartest people in North America will live, work and play in Chattanooga, their frontal lobes buzzing like beehives as they bear down on one central question so important it may determine our future as a city.
