Move over Danica! I�m ready to go racing and the Richard Petty Driving Experience (RPDE) is making that possible. Within the next few weeks, I�ll be strapped in a race car in sunny Florida ready to go fast. I really can�t wait! Another item off the bucket list. I guess you could say auto racing is in my blood. My grandfather and my dad raced stock cars at the local level and, of course, were NASCAR fans. This was in the day when Junior Johnson and Rex White were hot shots on the track. While most kids my age were excited about watching the Super Bowl, every February on a Sunday afternoon I couldn�t wait to tune into the Daytona 500. Richard Petty was a very common household name. You can imagine how excited I was to meet him in June 1986 when I attended my first NASCAR race, the Miller American 400 at Michigan International Speedway. I was 14. That day, King Richard made the 1,000th start of his career, the first driver in NASCAR history to log such, and I was there to see it.
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Our firm has attorneys who are licensed in West Virginia, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Florida and Texas. The majority of our work is in those states. However, we have also handled cases in many other states throughout the country, including Maryland, Delaware, Virginia, North Carolina, Indiana and New Mexico just to name some of them.
In 1963, Edward Pola and George Wyle wrote a song titled, �It�s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year.� The song highlighted all of the song writers� favorite things about Christmas and is played in what seems to be every shopping mall across the country throughout the month of December. My own memory of this song, from my childhood, was that my Dad would jokingly, or possibly seriously, sing this song to me when I was upset that I had to go back to school in the fall. Personally, while I do love Christmas, it is tough to beat the middle of March. Over the past several weeks, our cold and cloudy days have disappeared and have been replaced with warmer weather and a little bit of sunshine. The leaves are slowly starting to come back on the trees and flowers will soon be blooming again.
OMG! My son is turning 40. Wait, isn't that how old I am? When did this happen? It doesn't seem so long ago that he weighed in at 9 pounds, 11 ounces and could get his legs over the side of the incubator in the newborn nursery. I knew then that he was going to be mighty, but nothing could have prepared me for all that he would be. Sure, there were signs. Like when I walked into the nursery and saw a football in his crib, a premonition I guess, that he would play and coach. That he would have the opportunity not only to teach young men to play football, but to teach them the important things in life. That someday he would have a mini Jamie, a boy called Jay, trailing after him with a football in his hands.
With the present economy of ever rising utility bills, gasoline prices (remember when we could fill our tanks for less than $20?), groceries, just the general cost of living and stagnant wages, everybody has had to cut back and trim their budgets.
For me, having a birthday on a holiday is an extra special feeling particularly on the holiday I decided to make my entrance � ST. PATRICK�S DAY!! It was March 17, 1969 at 4:36 a.m. and there I was. I decided to let Wheeling know I arrived.
If you have read more than a few of my blog submissions, you are undoubtedly aware of the very high regard in which I hold teachers, school administrators and school service personnel. I believe very strongly that the folks who are charged with the duty of educating and caring for our young people have the most important job there is. It is their responsibility to prepare our children for the challenges of adulthood, and no job could possibly be more significant. They are often asked to deal with difficult children, disrespectful parents and a public who has little knowledge or appreciation of the challenges inherent in what they do. All of this while receiving a salary that is modest at best. For those reasons, I always do my best to make sure our local school personnel get the recognition they deserve.
As Championship Week begins and Selection Sunday and the NCAA Men�s Basketball Tournament approaches, I can�t help but think back to my time as a WVU Cheerleader during postseason action in March. In 2006, being only a freshman, I didn�t have the opportunity to travel to any of the postseason tournaments, but I definitely remember them. At our first game in the Big East tournament, we suffered an always heartbreaking loss to the University of Pittsburgh in the quarterfinals ending our run at the Big East Title. We went on to be the #6 seed in the Atlanta Regional and defeated Southern Illinois and Northwestern State to advance to the Sweet Sixteen to face the #2 seed Texas Longhorns. I remember a group of my friends cramming into a small dorm room in Summit Hall to watch the game. We were at the edge of our seats as we watched Kevin Pittsnogle sink a 3-point shot to tie the game 71-71 with six seconds left in regulation but the Longhorns made an impressive 3-point shot at the buzzer to win the game 74-71.
A few months ago, my daughter, Emily, came home from school with a Josten�s graduation packet. We went through the catalogue and picked out her cap and gown, her ornament for her tassel, graduation invitations, etc.�no biggie. Then, a few weeks later, we started preparing for her senior pictures (what outfits she wanted to wear, how she wanted her hair fixed, props she wanted to use, etc.)�again, no biggie. A couple weekends ago, I took her shopping for her prom dress. We gathered a few dresses she picked out and headed to the dressing room. THEN, as she stepped out of the dressing room, it hit me! She has grown into a beautiful young woman.
Get Ready Ohio Valley. It�s Pothole Season Again. With the ice and snow melting, the potholes now love to eat our cars. Recently, as I traveled to my destination, without the ice and snow to fill in the potholes, I came to the conclusion that it is downright dangerous on our roads. On one section of Interstate 70 in Pennsylvania, you only had a small window of time to change lanes without losing your car to a pothole. The center of the road was just one continuous, giant pothole. You had to make a choice either stay in one lane or risk your life to get into the other lane. In addition, I had to worry about �The Boys� (Barley and Guinness) being bounced around in the back seat when I couldn�t avoid hitting a giant pothole. Having a sick dog in the car is never any fun.