A Different Kind of Green: WCU band finds cultural connections in Ireland

Western Carolina University’s Pride of the Mountains marching band recently returned from its first trip across the pond, where it was invited to perform in the St. Patrick’s Day Parade in Dublin, Ireland. 

This must be the place: ‘I've stumbled through the valley, halfway up the mountain now’

Hello from Lemon Street in St. Augustine, Florida. Since 2013, my folks, who live in Upstate New York, have been coming down here for the month of March to escape the frozen North Country winters. 

This must be the place: ‘When the trees are bare and the barns are white with frost’

Hello from Room 211 at the Red Roof Inn just off Interstate 64 in Lexington, Kentucky. Bright, warm rays of sunshine stream into the east-facing window of the $43.95 per night cheap motel room. Crisp morning air rolls across the city and nearby horse country. 

This must be the place: ‘To laugh at the impossibilities which are here always after we are not’

Saturday. Late morning. The Waynesville apartment was quiet save the occasional motorcycle roaring along nearby Russ Avenue. My girlfriend had already gotten up and was at work by 10 a.m. I slept in a little bit, though my restless soul wouldn’t let the day fade.

This must be the place: ‘If there’s a goal that everyone remembers, it was back in ol’ 72’

The title of this column is the opening line of the song “Fireworks” by The Tragically Hip. A cherished Canadian rock act, the melody itself an ode to the legend and lore that is hockey and coming of age as a kid — a love of hockey transitioning to a love of women. 

New lost ages: Tyler Ramsey to play Highlander Mountain House

At the core of any great singer-songwriter lies this inherent trait of stage presence, one where an entire room, no matter the size, is pulled in by this lyrical tractor beam — all eyes, emotions and energies aimed in one direction at a single voice. 

This must be the place: “Sudden illumination, sudden awakening or simply kick in the eye”

Peering through the window blinds of the motel room, the sunshine felt yesterday afternoon was long gone and now replaced by an early morning haze of clouds and a slight drizzle.

This must be the place: ‘Olden times and ancient rhymes, of love and dreams to share’ (Part Two)

Somewhere between the treadmill and the free weights of the complimentary fitness center, my mind started thinking on all the different hotels and cities I’ve found myself in this past year. This go-round it was the Cambria in Columbia, South Carolina. 

This must be the place: ‘Olden times and ancient rhymes, of love and dreams to share’

At 7:12 a.m. Friday, the sun broke the horizon atop the Atlantic Ocean, its undulating waves crashing upon Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina.

This must be the place: ‘Are you reelin’ in the years? Stowin’ away the time’

The cell phone erupted to life on the nightstand in the pitch-black bedroom. It was 9:30 a.m. in North Carolina. But, for my girlfriend, Sarah, and I, we were three hours behind in Las Vegas, Nevada. 

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