The complaint that won't die -- my quickie evaluation of Brett Favre's career, as something that could have been even greater. No rehash of the old ideas here, just an attempt to address the new complaints.
There's nothing as depressing as internal congratulation, except maybe for an NFL Network think piece, but I've simply got to stop and take note of the truly superior brand of e-mails this week. So let's have a real Morris Plains round of applause for our man in the control booth, Paulie Forrests! OK, Doctor, let's hear from the first stiff ... uh, first e-mailer.
Springtime on Northern California's Navarro Coast is not for the restless -- it's for those content to nurture the senses and renew the spirit. Along this remote edge of Northern California, the ocean fills the horizon and mossy cliffs crumble into the sea.
A secret beach lures visitors in the know to Fort Bragg, an unpretentious town in Northern California. So much sea glass smothers this hidden shoreline that you might think a truck unloaded shimmering shards all over its rocky coves --and that's not too far from the truth. What is now called Glass Beach began as this city's garbage dump.
The floors creak, the doors lock only from the inside, and the walls are paper thin -- so whispering is the norm. If this doesn't sound appealing, it's because the strange beauty of Big Sur California's Deetjen Inn so defies description.