All the people who run this country, both Democrats and Republicans, say we are broke!
We can’t afford to help our own veterans, seniors, orphans, children, etc. But over the last several years politicians have directed cash aid in billions and billions of dollars abroad.
I have confessed my unworthiness to b.w. a thousand times — but to no avail.
Years can go by in which a deeply troubled psyche stubbornly manifests itself in the gaudy guise of felicity.
Whatever concept of God you have, if you have been around the world a bit, you’ll recognize that America is a blessed piece of real estate.
Once our forebears had started governing themselves in Virginia, Massachusetts, etc., people in the countries they had left began to compare their lives with ours, and theirs were often found wanting.
I believe that the United States is a morally good nation that wishes to have no enemies at all.
This is much like a very good-natured friendly dog who wishes to have no fleas, but attracts them whenever he walks out the door.
Taking sides on issues, and acting on convictions, is as American as bagels, turnip greens, chili, and pizza.
Nowadays most of us confront things, which we want neither to espouse nor to oppose. “How do you feel about...?”
Every voice speaking on radio or TV about President Obama these days says that his administration is the nadir of all within memory.
He is an easy man to like, but a hard man to admire for the job he has done to date.
The long-term effects of football’s head injuries become ever more evident.
Football is a game I played, and is a game I love, but I remember receiving a blow to my head in a night game once, that knocked me out for several minutes.
I’ve always remembered the English as our enemies in the Revolution — and I never forgot 1812 either.
Having English blood may help me appreciate English literature, but likely has acquainted me also with England’s peculiarities.
When I was young, many people had a fascinating hatred for President Franklin Delano Roosevelt.
Even as a kid, I was highly skeptical of Roosevelt, who seemed to me to be the great promiser of “something for nothing.”
My whole life I have been getting people to pay me to do things I love to do, so that I wouldn’t ever have to work for a living.
As an opera singer, after the final curtain fell, I left tragic plots in an ash can on the way back to real life.
I dreamed that my b.w. had suddenly metamorphosed into an “aggressive political woman.”
In this viciously critical world, the flinty eyes of Hillary, Nancy, and Elizabeth may see this “man in the family” as a stupid male sexist, a chauvinist pig.
What little fame I have had has always seemed to be a gift from some “heaven” up there somewhere smiling down at me for no good reason.
One summer a Florida pal and I were walking down Hollywood Boulevard in sunny California, a long hitchhike from home. I sat down in the lobby of the Hollywood Hotel and looked for movie stars.
Life’s battle begins at the time we take our first breath, and we are fighting constantly to stay alive until we draw our last.
One who has lived a great many years may tell you that life is for life’s sake, and has no point unless we find it, or create a philosophy for ourselves.
In many ways, ones friends are more cordial than ones relatives.
People usually try hard to keep on good terms with their mothers and fathers, but maintaining a liking between brothers and sisters is patently a much more difficult task.
I have come to the conclusion that the human race is divided between givers and takers.
Generous giving may be more blessed than receiving, but often seems far rarer, and should be taught to children before the age when they catch on to reality.
Heide was a ravishingly beautiful girl who was most satisfied when she first put on ballet shoes and learned to dance on her toes.
Very surely, there is “a will to die” as well as “a will to live.”
We were practicing sinking German submarines, while sun-worshippers crowded Miami Beach as though World War II was a soap opera.
Her hands could barely span an octave, but those hands — before she was twelve — had played the Beethoven “Emperor” Piano Concerto in Carnegie Hall.
I don’t know what it is about doing dangerous things that attracts so many otherwise “sane” people.
We drive our cars very carefully all the way to the ski slopes and then put ourselves in a most perilous situation, one that could lead to the end of it all for us.
We are all caught up in an evolutionary line of settling and using land.
It has often occurred to me that our pasts do not deserve the attention we pay them.
You might say it was not when you did it or how you did it, but who heard you do it at that infelicitous moment.
Wish yourself good luck and I’ll join you in your hope that you do not flop in your big moment.
In a long life such as mine, I have been in many places I never though I would go, and have met people in many walks of life I never thought I would meet.
And now I relish living in our Winter Park home with my b.w., and enjoying our many charming dear friends and neighbors. Life has never been better!
The art of conversation is not just talk, but talk that conveys an exchange of ideas worthy of listeners who know a thing or two.
The most famous “talker” in our language may have been London’s Samuel Johnson, whose “gab” in the 18th century drew flocks of people who wanted only to engage conversation with him.
When a dog loves a person, I believe that person more than likely can be trusted.
Do you think that guys who call their women-folk, “my pet” are especially good to their chosen gals?
I looked out the window, and saw an elderly white-maned man licking a vanilla ice cream cone as he sauntered slowly down the sidewalk. It was Albert Einstein.
Einstein was a guy who cogitated about the universe and all that is in it. While he held an ice cream cone in his hand, in his mind he was holding the infinite!
In sports, coaches try their best to attract incoming players who can win games and make the coach look good.
Well, some kids in sports are like pigs trying to learn how to sing. Nothing good is going to come of it, no matter how much the most fervent coach may try.
One's politics are expressive not only of personal prejudice, but often of stubborn stupidity.
As a person of long southern background, I see Conservatism as a natural philosophy of Southerners.
The “will to live” took hold of me 93 years ago, and I ain’t never turned loose.
I figure it is that very “will” plus the love of my wife and friends that has contributed to that positive outlook.
We are so lucky to live in Florida while so much of the rest of the country has its winter.
Rollins’ President Hamilton Holt used to tell us kids not to brag about Winter Park if we visited relatives up north, because if we did everyone would flock to WP and our little secret haven would be a secret no more.
You may have noticed the repetitive quality of life in the solar system
Our personal clock starts the moment we are born and runs until our time is up whenever that may be.
Suddenly, Giuseppe Natale’s mouth opened wide and began to sing.
In the palm-edged driveway, Mr. Natale greeted the pale lad who stood there, “Well, sir, what can I do for you?”
Good people create goodness wherever they are, and their goodness is demonstrably contagious throughout the wide world.
You only need to be a good person yourself, to recognize this fact.
I have traveled far in public in my life of song— and I have sung wherever I have traveled.
A singer and his songs are a musical love affair and a singer sings songs with a musicality that springs from his deep affection for, and understanding of them.
There is a very pretty woman living with me. Thirty-five years ago she was consigned by heaven to take care of me and make me happy.
When I wasn’t watching out, the “love-bug” got me good. Pretty soon I had come down to Florida and bought a house that I didn’t need in the slightest.
I realize that I am thankful for being a lucky person. Once again I give thanks that I did not perish, as thousands did, during my four-year World War II Naval service.
I enjoy a conscious excitement when getting up in the morning. I’m thankful for that fact. At 93, I am indebted to my genes and to temperate living for a strong physical constitution.
Center opens with 'Carmina Burana'
On Nov. 22, the Dr. Phillips Center for the Performing Arts took off it wraps and proved its important worth to a full house, with a blockbuster performance of Carl Orff’s “Carmina Burana.”
If we exempt one half of the population from paying taxes, we are turning over the government to those who pay nothing but can vote anything they wish.
If they want a bridge to the moon, they can vote for it all right, and I guess the rest of us had better accept the fact that we are trapped on a crazy planet.
We human beings are both the creators — and the products — of cultures.
Belonging to our “culture” are such diverse things as our educational standards, manners, what’s playing at the local movie theater and on the TV, our crime, and our punishment of criminals.
Dogs exist to bring happiness to people, and they justify their existence at every opportunity.
It’s impossible not to love dogs in return.
The “play” of my life is now in its final act. I would like it to be a good act, an act of peace and harmony, but one of courage also.
I don’t believe that one should live in the past, but successful past times have a way of generating a climate where good things can logically and comfortably reoccur and thrive.
A symphony composition, whether Mozart, Beethoven, Tchaikovsky, or Mahler can often be a work of great genius bringing all kinds of instruments together, each with its own individual sound.
Such collaboration makes for some of the greatest music ever created, and ever performed.
The TV brings news of a woman being robbed at pistol point on Park Avenue, Winter Park at 11:30 p.m.
My memories of Winter Park go back to 1929. However, I would have thought such a crime on our main street is impossible — even now!
The wise speaker starts by concentrating on important aspects of something he knows a lot about.
The intellects of favorite talkers I’ve known were memorable for having stored away treasure-trove “reference libraries” of facts to be recalled on the spot while the speaker was speaking.
As my days dwindle down to a precious few, people ask me, “What do you do to get yourself going in the morning?”
I say, “I think about what needs to be done. I think about what I can get done today, and I get busy doing it.” What’s so unusual about that? After all, “today” is the only day any of us can do anything!
Like most American dads, mine was undoubtedly thanked inadequately during his days on Earth.
Dad was a first lieutenant in the Army in World War I, and managed somehow to join me as a naval officer in World War II when he was far over age.
We Americans see our planet through rose-colored glasses, only occasionally wiping the glasses clean so as to see the true reality around us.
In school we sang a nice little song that said, “Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream.” The trick was, I guess, to row gently enough so as not to make waves to threaten us up ahead.
Winter Park’s perennial determined wish is to remain small, high class, quiet and aesthetically beautiful.
If Winter Park people appear to be snobbish, let’s thank them for giving Florida yet another town that can justifiably call itself “classy” — even “ritzy.”
Oddly, people who are our “blood relatives” are often people with whom we have little or nothing in common, and with whom we have little to do.
It is not unusual for people to be quite distant from their nearest relative, and for brothers and sisters to get along hardly at all.
Whether we know it or not, we are at war.
Fear in people invites attack, and the strongest people are the safest.
Maggie's marriage has been seemingly routine up to now.
In place of Louis Roney’s regular column, here is an original fictional short story, written by our columnist.
Rimma & Friends by the Orlando Philharmonic Orchestra
The evening deserves to be remembered particularly for wonderful artist Rimma Bergeron-Langlois’ memorable commanding moments of stellar violin artistry.