Columns

Earlier this year I wrote about Gov. Susana Martinez’s tenuous legacy, saying that, after a little more than four years in office, she has little of consequence to tout as a lasting accomplishment.

Now, I’m thinking she may have found it in tourism.

And that’s not all I’ve noticed. She may also be hitting her stride politically, and (maybe, just maybe) with the media.

Don’t be surprised to discover that I’ve used this statement in several past columns: It’s a miracle that anyone learns English. I’m instantly reminded of the song Professor Henry Higgins blurts out early in the movie and play, “My Fair Lady.”

The professor, a dialectician and grammarian, sings “Why Can’t the English Teach Their Children How to Speak?” as he laments Eliza Doolittle’s use of “aawww” and “gawwn,” a form of Cockney-speak people of that time and place had grown accustomed to.

By Rick Kraft

Each of us has today. Each of us will have a last day. These are two certainties I believe both of us can agree on. Two days of significance, one known and one unknown.

If you knew that today was your last day of life and you were asked by a stranger what has been the biggest regret of your life, what would you say? Honestly, what would you say?

I  find it irksome for people to define something only on the basis of what it’s not. Sound confusing? Let me explain.

I remember way back in fourth or fifth grade at Immaculate Conception School when Sister Mary Espantosa ran us through the reading curriculum by telling us that books were generally divided into two classes: fiction and non-fiction.