For years now – 22 of them to be exact – my liberal friends have been reading my columns mocking global warming and repeatedly reminding me of just how much of a mouth-breathing, knuckle dragging Neanderthal nut job I am, although they don’t usually say it that kindly.

I am writing to inform citizens on the state of midwifery in Iowa. At present, Certified Professional Midwives, midwives who attend the majority of out-of-hospital births, are not licensed in Iowa.

Athletes and spectators competitive sports learn many things: Skills. Teamwork. Discipline. Sportsmanship – how to play, win and lose graciously.

This year I decided that my New Years Resolution was to be a free spirit...and realize I will probably end up just slightly more free spirited than Sheldon of the Big Bang Theory, The last few days I took another baby step in this direction.

Somewhere a soldier Sits drinking his Folger's And wondering what words would rhyme With "desert" and "sandstorm" And "al-Muqdadiya" And he hopes his mail gets home on time   The blue-helmeted Seahawk Hears his muse only mock When for his girl he writes a love song to sing He's attempting to show her He's still a romantic feller Though he wears that huge Super Bowl ring   Brain-tired and weary The writer will fear he Has nothing new or inspiring to say But he'll still sit at his desk As his scattered mind frets Over saying "love" in an original way   The bloke and the gringo From Pedro to Ringo Face the same formidable chore Of experiencing their umpteenth February Fourteenth While feeling unable to say more Than "I love you my dear Even more than last year" Without sounding like a terrible bore   One guy decides it's too hard So he will look for a card That expresses his love for her better Than he thinks that he could (Although she wishes he would) By simply just writing a letter   Men can compose eloquent phrases To describe NASCAR races Who won and why we can explain But putting feelings into words Is worse than 200 mph curves At Daytona in a heavy rain So in Love Letter races It's time that we face it - Most will never reach Victory Lane   Some men, at wit's end, Will decide not to pen Their lady some lame-sounding jingle They exclaim with a sigh "Now, I finally figured why That Saint Valentine dude died while still single.

A man who read my column called “Pebbles in our shoes” got to the end of my thoughts about learning that we have had an accused murderer living in our midst for several years .

There is nothing more American than ... a good, old-fashioned social media melee over Super Bowl commercials. The game was forgettable (although not to Seattle or its fans), but the commercials still have millions of people talking – and typing.

Today we received an obituary for Charlotte Knupp.  Now quite frankly, I didn't know Charlotte, but I knew Charlotte's store. As a kid, I always enjoyed creating things.

Perhaps you saw an ad on TV, or a flier in a newspaper, or some other form of advertising that refers to Sunday’s NFL Championship Game between the Denver Broncos and the Seattle Seahawks as “the big game.

My hometown was not Vinton, but rather in a cold northern desolate place not known for its success on the football field. No, it was not as far north as Minnesota, although the frequency with which the school band there played the Minnesota Fight Song still leaves me unwilling to sing along.