Meanwhile, the Catholic League has declared a victory of sorts in the wake of Frankfort, Kentucky's efforts to call their tree a "Holiday" tree. Gov. Steve Beshear has decided to call the state tree a Christmas tree. So take that, you holiday diversitists!

Max Blumenthal, who everybody knows is a Jew, writes in Who started the War on Christmas? about the anti-Semitic and white-separatist roots of the folks who started complaining about the "War."

Amelia, Ohio cancels its Christmas Holiday parade. After the private group that was sponsoring it for 28 years lacked the money to put it in this year, the mayor said the village would pay for it. But on advice of its attorney, the village called it a "Holiday" parade. That enraged local churches, who stepped forth with criticism (but no money to sponsor the thing). So the mayor basically said, "To heck with it -- ain't worth the trouble."

Towns all around the country, meanwhile, went on with plans to stage their parades.

The U.S. Postal Service curtails its "Letters to Santa" program because last year one of the volunteer answerers turned out to be a Maryland registered sex offender. Oops! Never mind. They reinstated it.

And there is your weekly roundup!

Charles Alexander Diez / Asheville Citizen-Times

We last looked at the case of Charles Alexander Diez, the firefighter/gunslinger back in July, when he stopped his car to threaten a bicyclist.

When cyclist Alan Simons tried to walk away, Diez aimed his pistol at Simons' helmet and pulled the trigger -- in front of the Simons' 3-year-old son, who was riding with him.

Diez hit the helmet, but the bullet missed Simons' skull by an inch.

Thursday, with 30 supporters in an Asheville courtroom with him, Diez pleaded guilty to assault with a deadly weapon with intent to kill. A judge sentenced him to 120 days in jail.

Diez lost his job in August.

The verdict/sentence has sparked bike-blogger outrage across the land.

Abusing The Privilege says Diez has been a concealed carry permit holder since 2007.

Big Jonny at DrunkCyclist fired up a fine froth of eloquence and anger:

This time, Diez chose to pull over, he chose to wrap his hand around the grip that firearm, he chose to point his gun at Simon, and he chose fire a round at Simon’s head.

Right in front of the man’s family.

You’d think at this point the motorist has really crossed a line. That he has clearly attempted to kill another man. You might also think that society cannot tolerate such behavior. That this man should be punished for his action, for the choices he made that day, the choices that very nearly left a young boy fatherless.

You might think that, but you’d be wrong.

Bull City Cycling weighed in with a tongue-twisting string of unkind (and hyphenated!) nicknames, and added this:

There's only one reason that Diez shot Simons: Simons was riding a bike, and Diez therefore saw him as less-than-human, so much so that Diez didn't think twice about discharging his deadly weapon at the man.

Sorry to bring you down folks, but it gets worse: by failing to punish him to the full extent of the law, the judge affirmed this belief, essentially saying: "yes, it was bad what Diez did, but can't we all understand?"

Meanwhile, xena at the DC Tri Club Forum jumped in with a succinctly headlined post: Cars don't kill cyclists. Guns kill cyclists.

Erik Ryberg at Tucson Bike Lawyer noted:

I often have to tell my clients that bicyclists are basically hated by a large segment of the public, and must not expect the same treatment by juries, judges, arbitrators, and insurance adjusters that a motorist would receive. If you get hit from behind while on a bike, for example, you are going to be declared to have swerved in front of the vehicle until proven otherwise. Not so if you are a motorist.

And it seems that if you are shot in the head by a firefighter, you shouldn’t expect sympathy either.

In Nashville, Green Fleet Messengers put it this way, under a post headlined: Motorist Shoots Cyclist for his own Good:

Here is another reason to wear a helmet … in case someone shoots at you!!!

Yesterday a motorist shot at a cyclist in Asheville, North Carolina.  Reason for shooting?  The shooter was “upset” because the cyclists was biking on a busy road with his child.  (the kid was in a kiddie seat).   What a humanitarian.

Last but not least, You are the Engine takes U.S. gun laws to task:

Now, I don’t want to say that gun laws in the US are totally f***ed (read: gun laws in the US are totally f***ed), but Diez was recently sentenced to just 120 days in prison.  You read that correctly.  He shot at a man’s head with a child right beside him, plead guilty to “assault with a deadly weapon with intent to kill,” and he will go to jail for 4 months.

Like I said, insane. And f***ed.

Alleged 911 ringleader Khalid Sheikh Mohammed

Except for the fact than I'm unalterably against capital punishment, I don't have a dog in this hunt.

But some folks who comment here, such as Will,  have requested a Gitmo trial vs. New York City trial thread ... or something like that. I don't understand the issue, except that some people want to make hay about it.

Here are the questions:

1) Should the Gitmo prisoners face trial in New York City, and why or why not? Please tell us what has informed your opinion.

2) If not, what should happen to them?

3) Bonus questions:

a) Is torture ALWAYS bad when it happens to U.S. citizens/armed forces? Please explain your answer

b) Is torture EVER bad when U.S. citizens/armed forces practice it on enemy combatants? Please explain your answer.

Note: In the same way WHFS ushered in the weekend with this tune each Friday afternoon back in the 80s, I'm going to begin doing the same thing on this blog. That's why you see it here now. It'll be up each Friday afternoon for the foreseeable future.

--dan

Happy Friday the 13th, everybody!

I doubt  that many of you spent much time around the Washington, D.C. media market in the 1980s. But if you did, and if you liked "alternative" FM music, there was one station, and one station only, that you likely listened to: The legendary WHFS.

It's hard to describe, and to do any justice, to this revolutionary Bethesda-based rock music station (they later moved to Annapolis). It was founded by a radio innovator named Jake Einstein. They were low power from Bethesda and didn't have a lot of reach, but had many, many diehard fans in that densely populated area.

WHFS was distinctive in many ways. It invented, at least in the DC market, the album-oriented or alternative format. Rarely, if ever, did it play any TOP 40. They were the only local radio station that played recordings by local artists, such as Root Boy Slim and The Slickee Boys, and the station had live  interviews and performances with rock stars who visited town -- they were always eager to sit down with DJ Damian (Einstein's son) or Weasel (Jonathan Gilbert)  or Bob Here or Cerphe (pronounced Surf) or some of the others.

Here's a nifty, live-in-the-studio duet of "Willin' " by Lowell George and Linda Ronstadt the station broadcast back in 1975.

None of the WHFS deejays had the smooth, slick-sounding radio voices you heard on regular stations. Damian, who had been crippled in a car crash years earlier, often slurred his words. He sounded drunk, but it was actually due to the disability he suffered as a result of that accident. Weasel had a voice like Alvin the Chipmunk, only just a little lower -- no lie. Bob Showacre ("Bob Here") had a laid-back and easygoing voice that sounded like an announcer on National Public Radio (who had just smoked a joint). These guys often made public appearances at local clubs to introduce D.C. musical acts. They were DC-rock-scene celebrities.

In short, WHFS was the anti-station of Washington D.C. radio.

Einstein ultimately sold WHFS to a corporation that took it in a more commercial direction. Years later, it changed into a Spanish-language station. But he bought another station, rechristened it WRNR and repeated the formula -- and it worked again. WRNR is still on the air, broadcasting from Annapolis. (Einstein, who died in 2007, sold the station in 1998 to Annapolis-area resident and "Wheel of Fortune" host Pat Sajak.)

Okay, here's the point of all this: Every Friday afternoon at 5 p.m. WHFS always played the same set of 4, 5 or 6 songs (I can't remember exactly how many it was). It started with Joe King Carrasco's "Party Weekend," moved on to The GoGos "We Got the Beat." It included a Dead Milkmen song, "Instant Club Hit (You'll Dance to Anything)" and some others as well.

You'd be heading home from work, stuck in D.C.-area traffic, tired after a hard week, and that set would come on the radio and change your mood and your energy level and get you bopping and ready for anything that was going on that weekend.

So here's the lead-off tune, folks. Have a great weekend!

Marion G."Pat" Robertson / AP

As promised, here is part 3 of my little serial about Pat Robertson, his great big house up on Warm Springs Mountain, and the day his bodyguard pulled a gun on me.

If you haven't read them yet, please read Part 1 and Part 2 first. This will make a lot more sense with those under your belt.

Below is the actual story that ran in The Roanoke Times & World News on Sunday, Jan. 8, 1995 -- without the million-dollar photo that Stephanie Klein Davis shot of that house.

As I've mentioned before, I can't find that picture of the house in The Roanoke Times files. But you can find it yourself with Google Earth. Here are the coordinates: Latitude 37°54'48.95"N; longitude  79°51'46.36"W.

Pat named this place Higher Ground.

And by the way folks, I learned some years ago that Pat had this place on the market. It's entirely possible that he sold it, and that I'm unaware of that transaction. So he may not be the owner anymore.

Pat Robertson's hideaway

Summary: A PRIVATE RETREAT is how TV evangelist Pat Robertson describes the house. With 11,000 square feet, it has given Bath County folks a lot to talk about.

They say faith can move mountains. If the Rev. Pat Robertson is any example, perhaps it also can build mansions on top of them.

When he grows weary from feeding the hungry, saving souls, collecting millions for his Christian ministry and charting a conservative political course for the future, the nation's leading televangelist unwinds in a stately mountaintop villa high over U.S. 220 in Bath County.

Robertson moved into the remote $1.17 million house about a year ago, setting tongues a-wagging among the area's residents.

``I appreciate my privacy, and this is a sort of little place I come for my privacy. This is a rather remote, private place,'' Robertson said before politely cutting short a telephone interview.

Robertson declined to describe the house in detail or allow a reporter and photographer to visit the guarded 27-acre compound. The property is a couple of miles down Virginia 703 from Ingalls Field, the local airport.

According to records on file at the Bath County Courthouse, the three-story stucco mansion's floor area totals 11,136 square feet, or about one-quarter of an acre.

It features four fireplaces and two chimneys and is equipped with four full baths and two half-baths. The records don't list the number of bedrooms, and Robertson declined to say how many there are.

The chalet sports a kidney-shaped swimming pool, an octagonal pool house, an enclosed porch, an open porch, a deck, a flagstone patio and a carport, according to the courthouse records.

Its gas furnace is fed from a propane tank buried in the ground. And it appears that Robertson is building a tennis court.

The home is considerably larger than the 6,800-square-foot, five-bedroom, 71/2-bath brick house on Christian Broadcasting Network property in Virginia Beach that Robertson has called home since 1983.

Back then, the evangelist expressed reluctance to move into the CBN home from his $300-a-month rented house beside a sewage plant in Suffolk. And he wouldn't allow the builder to install a swimming pool or a tennis court, shunning those luxuries as unseemly.

He ended up paying for that house himself after debating whether the public would view it as a windfall from the ministry. He then donated it to CBN.

Robertson estimated that he visits the mountaintop house about 10 times a year. He said it also is used for executive retreats by the governing boards of CBN and Virginia Beach-based Regent University, which he founded and serves as chairman.

``It's like a beach house, like they have on the Outer Banks [of North Carolina]. I like to come up in the mountains where I'm from and rest every now and then,'' Robertson said. ``It's got pretty views, mountain views.''

``Breathtaking'' or ``awe-inspiring'' might be more fitting descriptions of the scenery.

At an elevation of 4,140 feet above sea level, on sunny days one can see clear into West Virginia, across the grassy swells and hills of Warm Springs Valley and above the cupped peaks of the George Washington National Forest.

Concerned about security

Robertson said he cherishes his and his family's privacy and vaguely alluded to ``security'' considerations in explaining why he doesn't want outsiders on the property. He backs up those concerns up with old-fashioned firepower.

When a reporter and photographer tried to get a picture of the well-screened house from a public road last month, they were warned away by caretaker Herbert Hicks.

Brandishing a pistol, Hicks climbed down an embankment out of thick woods to reach the airport road, Virginia 703.

Flashing a badge and identification card, he identified himself as a Chesapeake sheriff's deputy. Hicks accidentally dropped the handgun before tucking it in his jacket a few minutes later.

Hicks lives with his wife in a 1,900-square-foot house along the driveway that sweeps up to the mansion. He said Robertson has received 100 death threats in recent years.

``In January, a guy came close to getting him,'' Hicks said. He offered no other details.

The house above is Pat Robertson old house in Hot Springs, Va., at The Homestead. He sold this house and traded up to a mountaintop villa.

The Chesapeake Sheriff's Office confirmed that Hicks is one of 70 to 80 unpaid ``special deputies'' in the sheriff's auxiliary force. That status allows him to lawfully carry a concealed firearm, Maj. David Newby said.

In terms of the number of jet-setters it draws, Bath County isn't exactly Virginia's version of Aspen. The world-famous Homestead resort still attracts its share of Eastern bluebloods, high-powered business people, assorted politicians and celebrities to ritzy Hot Springs. But Bath's roughly 5,000 residents are decidedly middle-class.

Seventeen of the county's 2,000 households have incomes exceeding $150,000 annually, according to the 1990 Census. The median household income is $24,000, while the typical home in Bath in 1990 was worth $45,700.
Robertson paid more than 30 times that for his home on the mountain, including the cost of the land. He bought the 27.7 acres for $211,000 on July 4, 1992, from Virginia Hot Springs Inc., former owners of The Homestead. There is no record of any mortgage for the property on file at the courthouse.

The crime rate is low. The county recorded only 56 felonies - and only one violent crime, a robbery - during all of 1993. The Bath County Jail has a mere eight cells, and it's rare when Sheriff James W. Bryan Jr. has them all filled.

Robertson, who was born in nearby Lexington, has visited the area off and on at least since the late 1970s, when CBN purchased a downtown Hot Springs home. The network sold that property in 1989 for $315,000, according to land records.

The televangelist has kept his presence in the valley low-key. When he visits, he often flies into Ingalls Field on a chartered jet. He said his favorite pastime is hiking along six miles of trails that wind along Warm Springs Mountain leading from his property.

Every so often, Robertson descends the winding road for meals at area eateries such as the Water Wheel Restaurant in Warm Springs. The day after Christmas, he dined at Squire's Table, a rustic, log-cabin-style tavern on U.S. 220 south of Hot Springs. It's almost directly below his house on the mountain.

Robertson also has been involved in area cultural and charitable activities. Last July, he showed up at an art show run by a Bath County foundation that raises scholarship money for promising college students. He bought four or five of the 200-plus artworks on display, which were priced from $25 to $800, Kathy Singleton said.

Through CBN's Operation Blessing campaign - which is funded by his TV ministry's viewers - Robertson donated $5,000 to the Back-to-School Project. The fund buys clothing and shoes for underprivileged children among Bath's 800 primary and secondary school students.

The contributions represented half of all funds raised by the Back-to-School Project in 1993 and 1994, said Laura Shaver, who helped organize the fund-raiser with her husband, Steve, the pastor of Faith Covenant Family Church.

It meant $50 clothing vouchers for 96 schoolchildren in each of those years, said Opal Gazzola, county social services director. Overall, Operation Blessing has contributed more than $80 million to needy people around the world since 1978.

``I think he's very respected and, golly, very friendly with everybody. He doesn't come around flaunting anything,'' said Gazzola's husband, John M. Gazzola Jr., who is The Homestead's official historian and a member of the county Board of Supervisors.

``I don't think he's gotten involved in the area. I think it's just a relaxation home. He hasn't gotten involved in politics or any business up here. Hopefully, he will in the future,'' said Richard B. Byrd Jr., Bath's emergency services director.

Bright lights on the mountain

According to a joke told in one bed-and-breakfast in Warm Springs, the villa's brilliant lights have prompted nighttime calls to the fire department from residents who feared Warms Springs Mountain was on fire.

The joke is rooted in fact, said one local firefighter, who asked not to be named. One night during the building's construction when the mountain was shrouded in fog, citizens saw a red glow near its peak and called in reports of a fire. The ``blaze'' turned out to be lights left on by construction workers, the firefighter said.

The calls ended after word about the house passed through the valley, he said.
Most of the remaining talk about the house centers on its size.

``The tales from the workmen who've worked up there - or the people who've just gone up and looked around when it was being built - are incredible. The stories I've heard are decadent,'' said Creigh Deeds, a Hot Springs lawyer and Democratic member of the General Assembly. He said he hasn't been invited up and doubts he ever will be.

``I hear the swimming pool is heated,'' offered Covington resident Marshall Puckett.

``It's big enough for four families to live in,'' said Kay Taylor, a clerk in the Bath County Sheriff's Office. ``I've heard he's going to build another house for [some relatives] to live in.''

The deed allows Robertson to build an additional house on the property.
The property also has generated some questions over how a minister could amass enough wealth to build such a lavish weekend home.

``I'm amazed - if it comes out of his ministry - that he has such a tremendous income'' and could afford it, said Dennis Nicely, who owns Nicely Exxon in Covington.

``I've been tithing for 40 years,'' Nicely said. ``I can't in my mind justify that amount of money for a retirement home ... There's such a need in the world, so many financial needs, so many individuals.''

According to published reports, Robertson presides over a complex financial empire that includes tax-exempt religious organizations and profit-making companies. He has made millions from the latter, such as cable TV's Family Channel. The channel is an outgrowth of his ministry that was spun off into a private corporation in 1990 so CBN wouldn't run afoul of federal tax laws.

Robertson and his son Timothy took the channel's parent company public in 1992, turning their $150,000 investment into shares worth an estimated $90 million. Nonprofit CBN, the other major partner in the corporation, made even more on the deal - an estimated $600 million.

Hicks, the property's caretaker, defended Robertson.

``This house has nothing to do with CBN or with Operation Blessing,'' Hicks said. ``Pat is [chief executive officer] of five organizations. Three are profit-making corporations. Two are nonprofit.

``From the two nonprofits, he takes no income at all. In fact, 65 percent of his salary from the profit-making companies is donated to the nonprofits. This house was built from his salary from'' the profit-making companies.

One old acquaintance of Robertson's in the evangelism movement thinks the mountain retreat sets a poor example.

Ole Anthony worked alongside Robertson for three months in 1972 after the televangelist bought a TV station in Dallas. Anthony went on to found the Dallas-based Trinity Foundation, a ministry for the homeless.

All of Trinity's workers make $50 a week, including Anthony, the president.
In recent years, the Trinity Foundation has operated a hot line for people who believe they've been victimized by televangelists. Trinity also has investigated TV preachers for national television shows such as ABC's ``20/20.'' Anthony, who also is a licensed private investigator, bills himself as the nation's ``leading critic'' of TV evangelists.

He calls Robertson ``the cleanest of the clean'' in the Christian TV world. Trinity has received virtually no complaints about CBN. Compared with many other televangelists, ``there's been a certain amount of consistent integrity'' with Robertson, he said.

But ``I think he's been seduced, frankly. This million-dollar house - this was not the Pat I knew back'' in 1972, Anthony said. ``At that time, he was devoted to the ministry. He didn't care about material possessions.''

``From the standpoint of what I believe to be the Christian call of our lives - that our leaders should be the poorest of the poor, rather than the richest of the rich - I think [the house] is a travesty,'' Anthony said.

Clarification: A sentence in Sunday's story about Pat Robertson's Bath County mansion may have been misread to imply the prices he paid for several pieces of art at a fund-raiser in July. Cathy Singleton, president of the Bath County Art Association, outlined only the general range of prices for the 200-plus artworks on display, not what Robertson paid.

Next Friday is part 4: When famed National Enquirer reporter David Duffy came to Roanoke and Hot Springs to do his own version of this story.

In advance of Sarah Palin's visit Sunday (you'll have to skip Sunday services if you want to be there) here's an 8-minute gem from MSNBC's Rachel Maddow.

It quotes McCain calling parts of the book "wrong" and one of his top aides, Nicolle Wallace, trashing other sections of 'Going Rogue' as "fiction."

Watch the clip!

Sarah Palin

Barnes & Noble is distributing a little "cheat sheet" of rules surrounding Sarah Palin's appearance at the Valley View Mall store Sunday. Because I know that many of you care deeply about this, I'm republishing them here.

Man, you'd think Ronald Reagan or Elvis or the Pope himself would be there, with all the crowd-control and revenue-pumping measures they're taking.

Those tricky folks at Barnes & Noble have designed a wristband system to ensure that nobody who doesn't buy Sarah's book from their company will get even a chance to schmooze with her.

Below are "the rules," followed by my handy translation of them.

"We are expecting a very large crowd for this book signing, and in order to accommodate as many people as possible, we ask that you note the following:"

• Line passes/wristbands will be handed out on a first-come, first-served basis beginning at 6 a.m. Sunday November 22nd. Translation: Get your butt out of bed early Sunday if you want to see Sarah.
• You must be present in order to get a line pass/wristband. Translation: You can't get one the day before, so skip church!
• You must present your ORIGINAL Barnes & Nobel or bn.com receipt for Going Rogue in order to get a line pass/wristband. Translation: Tickets for Sarah are $17 plus change (and tax). You cannot bring your receipt from Wal-Mart, where the book costs $14.50. So don't even try, you cheapskate!
• One line pass/wristband will be issued per person. Translation: If you've purchased 2 copies and a friend wants to come along, make sure you get separate receipts.
• A maximum of 2 copies of Going Rogue will be signed per person. Translation: Please buy more, but don't expect much, OK? Her hands already will already be aching from the Rochester, N.Y., signing Saturday night.
• No memorabilia will be signed only the book Going Rogue. Translation: This is to sell books, you dummy. She will not sign the caribou sausage you brought home from that Alaska cruise but are afraid to eat, so don't even ask.
• Please make sure a parent or guardian accompanies all minors. Translation: Sarah loves children. She has 5, you know? But she doesn't like them alone -- like she is leaving her kids on this book tour.
• No posed photos or personalization of books. Translation: For $17, you think she's going to let you pose for a picture with her? You must be a crazy Tea Partier or something.
• No bags will be allowed through the signing line. Translation: Sarah is so pro-gun that her state allows concealed carry without any sort or permit -- but we don't trust you Virginia gunners.
• Cell phones and cameras will have to be turned off and put away before customers approach the signing table. Translation: For $17, you think she's going to let you take your own picture of her? You must be a crazy Tea Partier or something.
• A line pass/wristband does not Guarantee a signed book or entrance to the event. We will do our best to get as many people through Governor Palin's line as possible. Translation: Even if you buy the book/ticket from our company, and show up at 6 a.m., and don't bring a gun, that doesn't necessarily mean she's going to sign it. Tough!
  
• Customers with line passes/wristband who leave the line for an extended period of time will have to rejoin it the line at its end, wherever that may be. Translation: Make sure you've got a whale of a bladder, or bring a bed pan for your bathroom breaks. Otherwise you're going to end up at the back of the line somewhere over by Roanoke Regional Airport!
  

Victims usually are "other people," you know? Rare is the day when it slaps you in the face.

Which is why what happened to Brenda Hale on Sunday sounds shocking when you hear her tell the story.

Hale, 63, is the Roanoke branch NAACP president, and she's no stranger to violence.

At age 7, she witnessed her father fatally shoot her mother in their home in the Hurt Park neighborhood.

Hale came face to face with it as a nurse in the military. And as president of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, she has endured taunts that she should be lynched from self-styled Nazis.

Despite all that, she was still unnerved late Monday afternoon.

She hadn't slept a wink, Hale said, since she found herself involved in a wild car-to-car shooting that ended with one of those cars smashing into hers.

Read the rest of the column here.

Colin Goddard was one of the survivors of the Virginia Tech massacre. After graduation, he worked as a volunteer for the Brady Campaign to Prevent Gun Violence, and he's now a paid staffer there.

This past summer, Goddard took a little trip to four gun shows in four states, where he and/or an associate purchased handguns and semiautomatic rifles from unlicensed sellers with no background check, no ID.

The resulting video is rather eye-opening: guns for cash with few questions asked.

The video is part of the Brady Campaign's efforts to close the so-called "gun show loophole," in which licensed sellers are required to perform "instant" background checks on handgun buyers, but unlicensed individuals who sell firearms there are not.

As others on this blog have already noted, some person-to-person gun transactions already happen that way. (Depending on the state, often those transactions are supposed to require ID and a minimum age).

Goddard isn't the only Virginia Tech survivor who's taking an activist stance on the proliferation of guns.

Last week, survivor Elita Habtu wrote a column in the Collegiate Times about how easy it is to get a concealed-carry permit in Virginia. Even if you've never touched a gun.

Wikimedia Commons

I am asking for your help, regulars and newbies, in writing my Thanksgiving Day column.  It will be your answers to the following broad question:

What are you thankful for?

Please write something from your heart, rather than from those liberal/conservative/atheist/fundamentalist/cynic/sexist/hunter/animal-rights activist/sarcastic, etc parts of your head.

Please DON'T tell us why you are happy that a Democrat is at long last in the White House, or why you're thankful that the GOP has reasserted itself in Virginia elections, or because abortion is legal or that you're thankful for Virginia's upcoming concealed weapons in bars legislation or any of those other like things.

A couple of notes:

1) Keep your entries to 50 words, give or take a few, and post them as comments to this blog, or in private emails to me at this link. Or, at dan(dot)casey(at)roanoke(dot)com with the subject line Thankful.

2) At the end of your 50 words include your first and last name and locality and state, like this: Dan Casey, Roanoke, Va. (I will not publish stuff in the column without a full name & locality.)

I will sort through these beginning Friday Nov. 20 and cull a wide-ranging bunch of heartfelt stuff for the column that appears on Thanksgiving.

I'll tell you one thing I'm thankful for: That I have a bunch of earnest and passionate readers of this blog who will help me write that day's column.

Cheers, and let's see the thanks pour in!

--dan