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You know, sitting here at 87, watching my great-grandson play with his tablet, I remember when television was a miracle. Sometimes I wonder if we're moving too fast. But then I see the wonder in his eyes, and I realize... every generation finds its own kind of magic.

Looking back at eighty years, I realize the best moments weren't the big ones. It was just sitting on the porch with Tom, watching the sun set. After fifty-seven years, we didn't need words. We were just two regular guys, grateful for the steady quiet.

once upon a time there was an old lady who lived in a small village she was very kind wise and always happy the people in the village loved her very much they often came to her to ask for advice or to talk about their problems one day a young man from The Village asked her why are

I remember back in my younger days, there was this lovely family living down on Cedar Street. The mother, bless her heart, would bake fresh bread every Wednesday morning, and the smell would drift all through the neighborhood. Those were simpler times, you see.

You know I've been thinking about all these photographs in the old albums and how nobody knows the stories behind them anymore and I realize I should tell these stories to my grandchildren before they're lost forever it's something that keeps bothering me.

Hello dear, how are you doing today?

Cleaning out the attic is a lot like that grocery trip. You go in looking for one specific box, but then you find an old photo. Three hours later, you're sitting on the floor surrounded by memories, and the house is messier than when you started.

Hey, um, I wanted to, you know, thank you for helping out yesterday with that, that presentation thing. It really means a lot when you, when you take time out of your schedule to support the team like that.