By Chris Sweigart
Posted 06/22 at 09:38 AM
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Last Friday I deemed electricity as the most important invention in American history. Today, I list the five-most influential Americans not to become president. That said, it seems like Common Sense would put the father of electricity atop the list. Here we go:
1. Benjamin Franklin—What did this man not do? He discovered electricity, was a true patriot, ran a newspaper, etc. It seemed Ben spent his time finding solutions to problems. We could sure use him today. Bet he could solve the crude oil situation and find an alternative fuel for our cars.
2. Henry Ford—Speaking of cars ... He invented the Model T Ford and introduced the assembly line. Ford is responsible for our passion for automobiles. If it weren’t for him, we may still be riding horses to work.
3. Thomas Edison—Picked up where Ben Franklin left off. Imagine where we’d be without the light bulb.
4. Martin Luther King Jr.—The father of the Civil Rights movement deserves all the acclaim he is given. All men are created equal. What we do beyond our creation makes us special.
5. Walter Cronkite—I couldn’t leave a journalist off the list. For years, America turned to Cronkite for information about their country and their lives. He was America’s messenger. For many, Cronkite was the first person to deliver some of the most important, and sometimes depressing, news in American history.
A few others I considered: Helen Keller, John Wayne, Elvis Presley, Susan B. Anthony, Mark Twain, Thomas Paine, Alexander Graham Bell, Walt Disney, Jonas Salk and Albert Einstein.
Next week: The five-worst tragedies in American history.
By Chris Sweigart
Posted 06/21 at 09:42 AM
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This week’s archived column was published in December of 2004:
It’s got to be the ugliest recliner in the world.
It’s faded pink, which matches absolutely nothing in our living room. It’s tainted with dark patches from where my greasy head’s rested every evening for seven years. And it’s got all types of permanent stains, from barbecue sauce to milk to Children’s Formula 44MD.
It’s showing some age. The foot rest isn’t level anymore and the chair squeaks an awful wailing sound any time it’s reclined or rocked. But you know what? I don’t care how old, how stained or how ugly my recliner is. I love it. It’s a part of me, just like my comfy black sweatpants. That ugly recliner is the best chair in the world and I’ll fight to the death to keep it where it is, stains and all.
It’s where I eat dinner. Most families use the dining room table. We use the living room. Why? There’s a TV in the living room. My lap and TV tray serve as my table. Besides, hard, wooden dining room chairs can’t compete.
It’s where I spend my evenings, flipping through the channels, playing video games or yapping on the phone.
It’s where I watched the last seven Super Bowls.
It’s where I watched Dan Marino’s last game.
It’s where I saw Mark McGwire blast his 62nd home run.
It’s where I saw Dale Earnhardt’s fatal crash.
It’s where I watched the Twin Towers fall.
It’s the first place I wander in the middle of the night when I can’t sleep in bed and the last place I am before I go to bed.
It’s where Santa Claus builds my 5-year-old son’s toys every Christmas Eve. Santa’s getting slower and slower each year. Building toys gets more and more difficult. Besides, I’m not sure all of the parts are included anyway.
It’s the place Santa Claus can relax late on Christmas Eve, light a scented candle, turn on the Christmas tree, kick back and soak up the atmosphere. It’s a peaceful time. Lord knows, seven hours from now the place will turn into a war zone once Joseph wakes up and tears into his presents.
What does daddy want for Christmas? Not a new recliner.
It’s the first place I fed Joseph as a baby. It’s the last place I talk to Joseph each night before he (finally!) goes to sleep. He sits in daddy’s lap, gets drowsy, and he’s out. It’s magic. I couldn’t do this in any new, high-dollar, 90 days same as cash, leather recliner.
It’s the first place I go each morning after I’ve fixed a bowl of cereal.
It’s a treasure chest of lost goodies. Lost the remote? Look in the recliner. Lost the cell phone? Look in the recliner. Lost the car keys? Look in the recliner. Need to find Jimmy Hoffa? Look under the recliner. Need lost parts from those toys on Christmas Eve? Look under the recliner. Need lunch money? Look under the recliner.
Archie Bunker had a chair. Ralph Cramden had a chair. Ted Bundy had a chair, except his wasn’t as soft and came with electricity. Fonzie had a chair too, though his had wheels and an engine. Fred Sanford had a chair. Even Floyd the Barber had a chair.
Do you have a favorite recliner, one you couldn’t live without? Through good times and bad, our recliners have been a constant—chairs with open armrests of warmth. Even if they’re ugly.
Joe McAdory is editorial page editor for the Opelika-Auburn News. He can be reached at 737-2549 or
By Chris Sweigart
Posted 06/20 at 09:06 AM
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If Rosie O’Donnell replaces Bob Barker as host on television’s long-time popular game show “The Price is Right,“ I don’t think I’ll watch another episode.
I don’t like Rosie. I don’t like her tone. I don’t like her attitude. I don’t like the sound of her voice. I don’t like the way she belittles those who do not believe exactly the way she does. I don’t like her smile. I don’t know if there is anything about Rosie I do like.
Politically, I could care less where she stands. That’s not the point. If she and I agreed on every point, I still wouldn’t like her. Maybe she doesn’t like me either. She hasn’t said anything nice about me in a long time.
Barker was always a gracious host, cheering on the contestants, encouraging them along the way. I can’t see Rosie doing that. I do see her making unnecessary, chaliced smart remarks. Barker made us think he actually cared about the contestants. Rosie would not.
The Price is Right may be headed to the morgue of great game shows, which include Match Game, Family Feud and Name That Tune. Rosie will make sure of that.
By Chris Sweigart
Posted 06/19 at 10:38 AM
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Tired of hearing about poor little Paris Hilton? Granted, the tale of our hotel heiress made national news every day—almost every hour—last week when she was sent to jail, then released, then sent back. A loud response from the general public was, “Who cares?“ Personally, I could care less if Paris Hilton spends the rest of her life in jail or spends the rest of her life in a mall boutique.
The tale of Paris and her in and out trip behind bars isn’t necessarily the story. What is the story is privilege, power and money. Why does this fragile flower get to spend her first few days of jail in the “medical” wing? That’s not exactly hard time. Why did Paris’ parents get to bypass the long line of visitors to see their child. Parents of other inmates had to wait for hours to see their delinquents. Not the Hiltons. Paris is special.
I don’t care what Paris was convicted of. What I do care about is how the rich and famous seemingly get preferential treatment when it comes to the law. Sure, Paris is expected to serve her full term of 45 days, but she should be treated just like every other prisoner during her stay. Inside, she is not Paris Hilton. She is just another inmate. Anything to the contrary is news and we should be outraged.
By Chris Sweigart
Posted 06/18 at 10:27 AM
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Was informed minutes ago my shirt was on inside-out. I’ve been in the office for 90 minutes looking like an idiot. No worries. The problem has been resolved. I’m OK now 
