Scott Douglas Vaughan

Mr. Jingles is no more. Perhaps you follow me on Facebook and saw a post back in the winter about Mr. Jingles. One cool night - cause South Carolina nights never get cold - Vicki and I were enjoying dinner with Alex Trebek, hoping we could get smarter by watching Jeopardy.  Vicki gasped out loud, and I immediately looked at the television, thinking perhaps someone had answered a bizarre statement like, "Burt Reynolds was considered for this major movie role until the headliner refused to let him have it." Who is Michael Corleone in The Godfather? But Vicki was not gasping at the television. She was gasping at a brave little house mouse that ran back and forth across our family room floor before stopping in the middle of it. "It's Mr. Jingles!" I said out loud, remembering the name of the indestructible mouse from the movie, The Green Mile. "It's a mouse!" Vicki said, having never seen The Green Mile. Just like that, Mr. Jingles did a little jump an

Take a look at the desk that is pictured here. It's a corner-style desk, largely made of simple metal tubes with some small wooden pieces and two very heavy pieces of thick, dark glass. Several years ago, I paid more than $200 for this desk. It has served me well. It's time for an upgrade. I offered this corner desk to several people, including my Vicki, and no one wanted it.  "I'm glad you liked it," Vicki said with some sarcasm mixed in there. What she meant was, 'I would never have bought that thing cause there are no drawers for storage. You really just bought a collection of metal tubing and two big slabs of glass.'   At least that's what I heard when she said, "I'm glad you liked it." With no takers - not even a bunch of Baptist preachers, who in my experience will grab anything free or maybe that's just food - I decided to take the desk to the local collection and recycling center. Don't get excited about that title - our c