In today’s Sunday business section, I have a byline about murses.
I don’t really know. Does a story about murses have to happen for a reason?
If you haven’t figured this out by now, allow me to explain it: Continue reading
Except it’s not.
I’ve never been a huge genealogy person. I know what I know, and that’s enough.
Maybe I’m scared what a little research might reveal. Maybe I’ll find out some of my relatives were heinous criminals or total weirdo losers.
Or maybe I just don’t care all that much.
But that’s OK. Donald Boyer cares enough for the both of us. Continue reading
So, I went to the York Fair this year.
While I was reporting on this story, I met a senior citizen that wouldn’t stop talking to me.
Initially, it was kind of annoying.
I wanted to write my story, get it out of the way and move onto the zillion other things I needed to do that day. Yet he wouldn’t take my body language cues.
He kept talking and talking and wouldn’t leave me alone.
Then, he said something crazy. Continue reading
Sure, they’re all over big cities — used by police as a punishment for those who refuse to pay their parking tickets.
But when the boot came to York, people seemed more than confused.
They wondered: Are the police doing this? The parking authority? Continue reading
Philip Given, who is mentioned in the story, suggested the tot angle months ago.
At every event I attend, I have to find something strange to write about.
This seemed like the perfect strategy to employ Friday at the 150th anniversary of the Battle of Gettysburg, which is kind of a big deal, if you weren’t aware.
Anyway, no one wants to read a normal story from this event, except maybe the people participating. Continue reading