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John Grindrod: Breaking (the) ‘Bad’ habit

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First Posted: 2/16/2015Ordinarily, I try to get some writing done from my hotel room when I travel for business, which I do pretty regularly....

John Grindrod: One proud aunt, community

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First Posted: 2/9/2015Certainly one of the best things about writing for you each Wednesday is when I actually have one of my readers do...

John Grindrod: Another Super Bowl

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First Posted: 2/2/2015Well, as of last Sunday evening, another Super Bowl extravaganza became an increasingly distant memory. Played out in beautiful Glendale, Arizona, XLIX...

John Grindrod: What interesting explanations

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First Posted: 1/26/2015My, I had quite a bit of trouble with some of the explanations I heard last week coming out of that wonderful...

John Grindrod: Don’t pause to take a picture

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First Posted: 1/19/2015While I do fashion myself as somewhat of a shutterbug, a term dangerously close to obsolescence, given the number of pictures taken...

John Grindrod: Writing, reading and the jumping-off point

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First Posted: 1/12/2015Last summer, at the behest of one of my friends, Denny Gallagher, I did a story on the return of his 11...

John Grindrod: Bring on winter

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First Posted: 1/2/2015Really, for me, winter never seems to be a big obstacle early on, provided, of course, ice and snow keep themselves off...

John Grindrod: Fear of the unpleasant surprise

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John Grindrod: Fear of the unpleasant surprise

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.neFileBlock { margin-bottom: 20px; } .neFileBlock p { margin: 0px 0px 0px 0px; } .neFileBlock .neFile { border-bottom: 1px dotted #aaa; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-top: 10px; } .neFileBlock .neCaption { font-size: 85%; } Many of you will remember a...

John Grindrod: I’ve always been a sucker for a good boardwalk

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This past April, Lady Jane and I figured there really was no age limit on those who wish to participate in spring break, so off we went bound for Ocean City, Maryland, and the surrounding areas. As I made the 640-mile drive with my trusty navigator assuming her customary passenger seat with her nose buried in the atlas she loves more than any cartographer ever could, a familiar song from my past kept playing on a loop in my head, the Drifters’ 1969 hit “Under the Boardwalk.”