Last week a reader sent a message about the three freshman football players who were charged with attempted armed robbery.

Life is full of choices. The act of reaching a decision results in a domino effect as others are brought into the mix. Last week was a time to assess whether decisions reached more than 20 years earlier made a difference. Two things brought this to mind.

There are moments in history that cause us to recall where we were and what we were doing at the time.

This is a trying time for many in the media.

NAPLES, Fla. -- Unlike what was said in the past about political parties that could hold meetings in a phone booth, people came to the 106th annual convention of the Southern Newspaper Publishers Association. Not as many as may have attended in past years, but for an industry that continually flogs itself, there was respectability in numbers.

The race to be first with hybrid cars powered by anything but gasoline is the rage.

Gov. Phil Bredesen has been a reformer.

There are many who cloak themselves in the First Amendment and the protections of free speech.

On a recent trip to South Korea, we met a Japanese government official who was traveling with his parents. As we waited for a bus at the Korean Folk Village, his father asked us whether we were British.

A piece of civility fell by the wayside last week.

Something quite interesting happened across the country and here at home last week.

Let's pause for a moment and listen to the long exhaling of air from the lungs of many members of Congress.

There was little doubt that at some point during Congress' August recess, the real issues on the minds of some Americans would come to the forefront.

So, another week has ended and members of Congress see the end in sight from a raucous August recess.

Congressional recesses, particularly in August, traditionally have been portrayed as an opportunity for the elected to reconnect with the electors.

The Food Network has its version of a reality show each week: "Iron Chef America."

OK, let's go ahead and acknowledge that politicians are human beings. And being human, they make mistakes. The disclaimer is done. An elected official is not being placed on a pedestal higher than that of an ordinary citizen. The playing field has been leveled.

There are spaces in the world that instantly consume visitors with feelings of awe and wonderment.

There was initial criticism of all-news cable channels such as CNN for less-than-expected coverage of the Iranian election aftermath that poured into the streets of Tehran. When you tout wall-to-wall reporting on virtually any topic, you invite criticism.

For those of the 1970s, there was an affinity for Kodachrome, the color slide film produced by the Eastman Kodak Co.

The pursuit of money many times tempers good judgment.

Newspapers that work have personality and personalities.

There was some measure of puzzlement when the announcement went out that Mayor Ron Littlefield planned to deliver a state of the city report. The cynical journalist wondered what had changed over the past few months since he delivered his vision for the next four years at his inaugural speech in April.

Republicans in Tennessee for the past two election cycles aimed at securing governing majorities in the state Senate and House of Representatives.

Conventional wisdom is that newspapers reach such a broad audience that it is virtually impossible to target a particular demographic group. Everything for everyone is the mantra ascribed to those in the print medium, and unfortunately in most instances that label has been accepted by the practitioners of journalism.

If you are in a hurry to get to where you want to go, there’s one mode of transportation that should never be on your list of options.

For 65 days the Tennessee General Assembly has been in session.

On a recent trip, Times Free Press Executive Editor and Publisher Tom Griscom and wife Marion soared above California’s Sonoma County wine country during a hot-air balloon ride.

Predicting the future is difficult, probably more so than keeping people reading today.

The perfect stormed lined up, brought on by a series of unexpected circumstances.

Reforming higher education in Tennessee is not a new concept.

Ten months have passed since the lobby at the Hunter Museum of American History was crowded with anxious Chattanoogans awaiting the word.

There are experiences in life that leave a bittersweet taste.

For us, building and sustaining a relationship with readers is fundamental.

It probably is either ironic or appropriate that a public official who cut his teeth on leading a visioning process for Chattanooga in the 1980s is embarking on a new mission in 2009.

The committed journalist always has a tuned ear and at least a slip of paper and a pen at hand. Story ideas come at inopportune and unexpected times, but that comes with the territory. As they say, news does not wait; it happens.

Tennessee Gov. Phil Bredesen is a master architect.

Mark Cuban is the flamboyant owner of the Dallas Mavericks.

A group of Chattanoogans went down to Tampa, Fla., to watch a preseason game between the New York Yankees and the Detroit Tigers at George Steinberger Stadium.

There was a time a few years ago when anything French was to be avoided.

Dear Warren Buffett:

The Tennessee General Assembly is taking decisive action to solve the pressing issues facing residents of our state.

“Politicians” and “courage” are not usually connected in the same sentence.

It is a shame that a college president does not have the same privilege a college professor receives — a lifetime contract under which termination occurs only in extreme circumstances.

David Carr, a columnist with The New York Times, posed a question in a Jan. 12 column.

As presidents change, particularly when the new commander in chief wears different political stripes, so do policies.

No one should doubt the political prowess of Barack Obama, a first-term U.S. senator who catapulted onto the national stage, upsetting the plans of political stalwarts like Hillary Clinton, John McCain and others.

Every four years.

Lawmakers were in disarray.

The calendar turned over another 365 days, bringing an untarnished entry into a new year.