Author Archives: paul

When I was a kid, the number sixty-five always carried one meaning— retirement. That was the finish line. My maternal grandfather retired at sixty-five after a long career at AT&T, and everyone treated it like the natural order of things. You worked hard, did your time, then traded in the briefcase for a gold watchContinue reading “In the Blood”

“Since when is life about happiness? It should be about impact.” That line from Daniel Ek, the founder of Spotify, hit me square between the eyes when I heard it on a podcast recently. Happiness is the thing most of us chase. I did. We all want it, and we spend a lifetime trying toContinue reading “What I Learned About Impact”

“To the outside world we all grow old. But not to brothers and sisters. We know each other as we always were. We know each other’s hearts. We share private family jokes. … We live outside the touch of time.” — Clara Ortega There’s a rhythm to lunch with my brother. It starts the minuteContinue reading “He Ain’t Heavy”

There are tributes in life that make you proud and others that make you sweat—the Mississippi Press Association Roast of me last week did both. Past honorees have included governors and senators—big names with long résumés. My name beside theirs only made me more nervous. Politicians on one line, a restaurant guy on the next—itContinue reading “From Roast to Toast”

SOMEWHERE OVER THE ATLANTIC—Flying home from Scotland, I feel two things at once—tired and thankful. Travel always does that to me. For the first half of my life, there wasn’t much travel outside of work. The only time I made it to Europe before age fifty was on a honeymoon trip paid for by oneContinue reading “The Table Is the Real Destination”

ISLE OF MULL, SCOTLAND—There are meals, and then there are journeys disguised as meals. This one began with a boat across Loch Creran, forty minutes skimming dark Scottish waters, dodging seals and dolphins, before stepping onto the Isle of Mull. From there, an hour-long bus ride on a single-lane road toward the far edge ofContinue reading “The Ninth Wave”

Before every party at our house—whether it’s a fundraiser, an engagement, or just another excuse to gather people—my wife finds a reason to rearrange the furniture, repaint something, or bring home another piece. She calls it “freshening up.” I call it “buying more stuff.” Somewhere around the W. Bush administration I figured we had reachedContinue reading “Holding On”

Vacations weren’t part of my childhood the way they were for most kids I knew. While my friends packed up for the coast or flew off on ski trips, my mother, who taught art to other people’s children, was too busy stretching her meager paycheck to dream of beaches or mountain slopes. We made oneContinue reading “Vacations Through Time”

Shelby Foote once talked about the time he went to see William Faulkner in Oxford, back when he was still a young man looking up to an older one. According to the oral history recording they wound up walking through a cemetery, past old markers and family plots. Faulkner told him, “There’s a story behindContinue reading “Regret”