The highway is replete with culinary land mines disguised as quaint local restaurants that carry such reassuring names as Millie's, Pop's and Capt'n Dick's.

The disparity between a restaurant's price and food quality rises in direct proportion to the size of the pepper mill.

Contrary to popular notion, truck drivers know nothing about good restaurants. If you want a reliable tip, drive into a town, go to the nearest appliance store and seek out the dishwasher repair man. He spends a lot of time in restaurant kitchens and usually has strong opinions about them.

One thing that has changed is the price of land. You try to go out and buy some farmland, and no one's wanting to sell the little tracts of 80 or 100 acres that people have always wanted.

My grandmother has about 400 acres of land; 120 to 130 of it is timber acres. We'd like to start burning it.

Nothing irritates me more than someone campaigning to be elected to a seat and breaking the law of the land. I'd like to see the city adopt a zero tolerance on any sign in a right-of-way.