Author: Buddy McElhannon
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What A Caddie Taught Me About Encouragement
This past week I was invited to play a round of golf at East Lake Golf Club in Decatur, Georgia. East Lake is no ordinary club. It’s the site of the Tour Championship, the culminating event of the PGA TOUR Playoffs for the FedEx Cup. More importantly, it was also the home course for golfing…
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Bingo and the Value of 20 Quarters
I found a quarter in the street this week. Holding the twenty-five-cent piece in my hands flooded my mind with a sweet memory — the kind of recollection that produces a smile and a heartwarming reminder of the value of giving. It was in 2014, while playing bingo at a Nursing Home, that I discovered…
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Ask Me in a Hundred Years
My response was immediate when a friend questioned the prudence of one of my decisions. Without much thought, I blurted out, “Ask me in a hundred years.” Some of life’s decisions are uncomplicated. Yet life has taught me that many others, the kind that reverberate for generations, are not always so readily or easily…
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Simple Pleasures
In the elusive pursuit of happiness, 21st Century man has learned the more you have, the more you want. Once we obtain it, we must continue to get more, do more, or experience more to remain happy. More, it seems, is never enough in a culture drunk on materialism. It almost seems as if the…
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We All Need A Ninja Zone
I rarely visit any of my grandchildren when this Poppy does not come away with some new life lessons. A few years ago, one of my grandfather therapy sessions (i.e., babysitting) with three of my grandsons provided a prime example of the insights available to anyone who has eyes to see and ears to hear.…
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Men Play Checkers, Women Play Chess and Other Differences Between Men and Women
Not too long ago, one could safely comment on gender differences without the fear of being “canceled,” condemned for not being “woke” enough, or accused of sexual discrimination. In today’s world, one must be careful as free speech can instantly become hate speech if someone, somewhere, is the least bit offended. I’ll take that risk.…
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My Imaginary Friend Did It
My three-year-old grandson ran down the hallway, dashed into our master bedroom, and took refuge in his favorite hiding place – a spot behind my LazyBoy rocking chair. Having just knocked something over in our living room, he knew the noise would bring Poppy to see what havoc his rambunctiousness had wrought. Young Luke sought…
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3 + 200 = 92
After writing my grandmother’s memoirs in the late 1990s, I realized I should start sharing my own stories and personal reflections. A growing number of friends and family agreed as requests to be included in my email list continued to grow, if for no other reason than curiosity as to what “that fool will write…
