I let it go longer than any other beard I have ever worn, long enough that the spaces at the parentheses on either side of my mouth, the bald patches on my jawline filled in somewhat. My mustache of rusted wheat grew long enough to curl over my upper lip.

You know the story, the one that begins a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, with lasers, spaceships, a princess, droids and a sect of spiritual warriors intent on rescuing the galaxy from the black-clad, intergalactic villain and his army of clones.

Things have changed on almost every front. But last week the city of Greensboro issued a letter to business owners citing a forgotten piece of municipal code that dates back to 1961 concerning something that has become commonplace in the ensuing years: tents.

In the subterranean gallery anchoring the corner of 6th and Trade streets in downtown Winston- Salem’s Arts District, Millicent Gleason-Spivak busies herself behind the counter she’s tended since 1990 for one last time.

We’ve had dozens of employees come through the ranks since the early days, some more memorable than others, but each helped us along at critical junctures on our development. To them we owe debts of gratitude, and we take continued interest in their careers.

Christmas Eve, Garden City, NY Christmas comes softly to Garden City, NY this year, nestling across this part of Long Island like a blanket fresh out of the dryer on this cold winter’s morning. Cotton wisps hang in the pale blue sky and the sun’s so bright it’s white, casting the corner of 7th Street and Franklin Avenue in a gentle luminosity.

He’s practically vibrating in the seat next to me, this kid. Just 9 years old, recently made privy to the Big Christmas Secret, and he’s beside himself on this, his first Christmas mission on the other side.

I had the pleasure of sitting behind the river-side end zone in the Louisiana Superdome — excuse me, the Mercedes-Benz Superdome — a couple weeks ago as my beloved New Orleans Saints leveraged a convincing 31-17 victory over the Detroit Lions, paving their way to a division championship and playoff berth.

I’ll start in the bar at Tujague’s, as good a place as any in a weekend loaded with lede-worthy scenes. The bar has anchored this corner in the French Quarter of New Orleans for more than 150 years, and very little has changed — no neon, no Jagermeister machine, not a naked-lady-shaped novelty cup or set of plastic beads in sight. Though it’s still morning, time was when I would belly up to this old, cypress bar — there has never been a barstool in Tujague’s, ever — set my foot on the bowed brass rail and begun the day’s chase.

I didn’t go all humbug until I saw the tents — not the ones pitched by Occupy protestors in public and private parks in cities across our nation, I kind of like those because, even though I am not in lock-step with all of the movement’s goals,

They move inside the cavernous Greensboro Aquatic Center with feline grace, the US Women’s Synchronized Swimming Team, gliding across the deck like a single organism at the city’s newest swimming pool. Beautiful.

I thought we did a pretty good job covering the Greensboro municipal election this year, with thousands upon thousands of words in print and online, face-to-face interviews with just about every seri- ous candidate — and a few not-so-serious ones.

She’s late. Not a huge deal — I’m late sometimes myself. Plus she’s got a 90-minute drive and a carful of books to load in. One thing I’ve learned during my Book Year is that logistics are a bitch.

This is how out of it I am.I didn’t even realize Kim Kardashian was married — not until this past weekend, when I saw that a cable channel had devoted massive blocks of airtime to her wedd

When Obama comes to town, the cops and the media get put on notice — city, county and state police cars clogged the roads leading to the Ragsdale YMCA, where the president spoke last week, and hulking satellite trucks from every TV station for 100 miles took up the parking lot like an idle herd of elephants.

Ten years ago we picked the date — Oct. 21, well after summer had ended but before the busy holiday season kicked in. We scheduled around other people’s jobs and lives as best we could so we could share the day with the people we loved, who loved us in return.

I picked up the Latham Park Greenway about mid-point, near the intersection of Benjamin Parkway and Wendover Avenue.

On Monday, American citizen Amanda Knox was freed from an Italian prison after well, Im not exactly sure. I seem to recall there was some sort of murder that involved lurid sexual details and scant evidence, and I suppose I could spend an hour or so scouring the news sites to catch myself up on the incident and the trial.

One year gone and we still talk about Robert about the years he was married to my sister in-law and he was a fixture at family events, often hiding out in the bar he built inside his garage to smoke and scowl, and about the years he wasnt, prowling the UNCG campus while he was working and visiting his favorite bars when he was off duty.

It starts out as a conversation between the five women in the room. There are supposed to be 11 of them, but some of them get cold feet, explains Tiger Roxxx, proprietess of the Purrrlesque! burlesque troupe and lead instructor for todays class.