On June 27, 1972, my girlfriend at the time, now my wife, Cathy, my lifelong friend, Greer Radcliff, and other friends attended The Rolling Stones's “1972 American Tour“ concert at the Mobile Civic Center. After finishing our freshman year in college at our respective schools, we gathered for a night of “It’s Only Rock n’ Roll, but We Like It! We Like It, Yes We Do.“

On May 18, the First Wooden Boat Show will be held at the BLUEGILL Restaurant on the Causeway in Spanish Fort. The Facebook marketing for the event caught my eye and I decided to learn more. Wooden boats have reached a nostalgic level in today's modern world, and many are still being used.

Six senior sen̂oras in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, are enjoying lunch at a gorgeous rooftop restaurant, eating the freshest guacamole, sipping tequila drinks, and chatting about all the fun we are having. At the table next to us are two young gentlemen from Chicago, who are shopping for a house to buy in the area. Many Americans and Canadians have homes here and after spending some time in this colonial area in Mexico’s central highlands, I get it. ‍

A few weeks ago, Linda and I ventured north to attend the Monroeville Literary Festival. This two-day event is held annually in the upstairs courtroom of the Monroe County Courthouse, the setting of Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird. By all measures, it exceeded our expectations.

Having just returned from my third cruise in Belize, I can report that it is still one of the most beautifully pristine pieces of water a sailor can visit in this part of the world. 

This time of year, especially for those who want to escape to warmer weather, head South. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to traverse the waterways by boat through South Florida and arrive at a tropical Bahama destination. I’ve heard of many who’ve done it, with trepidation at crossing the Gulf Stream. It can be a harrowing experience. Here is one such tale and we hope it conjures up a Parrothead version worthy of Jimmy Buffett.

“Chicago of the South.” That’s how it was described to me when my friend from college, Tom Lavender, first told me about his hometown of Boligee, Alabama. It had everything to become a booming metropolis, a river, a railroad, and later, an Interstate highway.

I first met John A. by reputation. I sort of knew him, but not really. We had never met in person until a few weeks ago when we had lunch at Grace in Mobile. John A. is from Evergreen, Alabama, home of Conecuh Sausage, but lives in Mobile, actually on Fowl River with his wife Kelly.