This must be the place: I’ll eat when I’m hungry, I’ll drink when I’m dry, and when I get thirsty I’ll lay down and cry

Emerging from his merchandise table at The Grey Eagle in Asheville last week, legendary troubadour Ramblin’ Jack Elliott moseyed on over to where I stood in the lobby. With a signature grin rolling across his face, the 91-year-old folk hero extended his hand and said he was looking forward to our interview backstage.

This must be the place: Life is a mystery to be lived, not a problem to be solved

Monday afternoon. Plattsburgh, New York. Grabbing a few things for my intended hike up near Tupper Lake, in the depths of the Adirondack Mountains, I walked out the door of my parents’ farmhouse just as my mother asked where I was going.

This must be the place: Time waits for no one, lord, why did I hesitate?

Stepping out onto the porch late Sunday morning, the air was cool. The first sign of an impending fall, even though there’s exactly one month left of summer, at least according to the calendar. 

A new calling: Respected Waynesville PD lieutenant leaves law enforcement in his prime

Amid a tough time for law enforcement when stories about good officers leaving the profession dominate headlines, the Waynesville Police Department is losing one of its most experienced and respected officers. But while many leave law enforcement due to burnout or poor workplace culture, Lt. Tyler Trantham’s exit is different — it’s a matter of faith.

This must be the place: There’s no simple explanation, for anything important any of us do

With the Mason-Dixon Line in the rearview mirror, I pushed the accelerator down and proceeded to make my way up Interstate 81 North towards the Pennsylvania/New York border. 

New and shiny isn’t always better

In my adult life I’ve noticed an emotional pattern when it comes to appliances. When I have an antiquated appliance, it seems to work well and is a non-issue, but when I have a new, fancy appliance, I often feel annoyed and frustrated. 

This must be the place: Sometimes the songs that we hear are just songs of our own

Standing on the sidewalk, I leaned onto the open garage door window of Sauced in downtown Waynesville. Sunday evening right before the rainstorm rolled in. An array of the younger, service industry crowd finally sitting down to congregate and enjoy a beverage on their own time. 

This must be the place: Every day it comes to this, catch the things you might have missed

Feeling a bit deflated lately. It’s funny how one thing just triggers everything else, this domino effect that tumbles and echoes throughout the infinite physical and emotional chambers of your body, mind and soul. And usually (seemingly) out of nowhere. 

This must be the place: I want to hold you in the Bible black pre-dawn, what was I thinking when we said hello?

It’s Sunday, Feb. 13. The Super Bowl will be underway in about six hours. I’m sitting at a table in the depths of Orchard Coffee in downtown Waynesville. Large cup of coffee (with a shot of espresso) nearby. A breakfast sandwich and yogurt soon to be arriving. 

This must be the place: My dreams fading down the railway line, I’m just about a moonlight mile down the road

It’s 9:21 a.m. Monday. Room 130. Super 8 Motel on the outskirts of Valdosta, Georgia. The air in the space is cool from the ragged old air-conditioner underneath the window. TV blaring some holiday rom-com flick, but the sound is muted. The Rolling Stones’ “Moonlight Mile” swirling around the bed from the laptop speakers. 

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