Down the Rabbit Hole

By Dr. Jim Ferguson I don’t pretend to understand how computers work. Like most of us, I have a vague comprehension of electrons swirling through silicon pathways within the devices we hold in our hands or sit on our desktops. I appreciate quantum mechanics which...

Rhetoric

By Dr. Jim Ferguson Christmas has come to the Ferguson home in June. We’ve begun to move into our new house, but we’re still living out of boxes, and each one we open is like a surprise on Christmas morning. I’m still looking for the box that contains my underwear....

Yard Signs

By Dr. Jim Ferguson As I pen this essay Becky and I are homeless. Actually, we’re “tweeners,” between our former home (Big House, which my daughter and her family now occupy) and our New House, which is not quite ready. It’s worked out OK because we’ve been with my...

Tour of Duty

By Dr. Jim Ferguson Often, the hardest part of writing is getting started. Sometimes I think I’ve said enough in this column after a half million words. This is especially true as another editorial deadline approaches. And then I get a phone call of praise or a fellow...

The Maestro

By Dr. Jim Ferguson You may not be aware of it, but Knoxville is in possession of a jewel. No, I’m not referring to the Knoxville Zoo or the University of Tennessee, both great aspects of our community. I’m referring to the Knoxville Symphony Orchestra.  Recently, my...

Good Bones

By Dr. Jim Ferguson I have mentioned in previous essays that my wife, Becky, and I are in the midst of  downsizing. When we first built our home thirty-seven years ago I swore I would never do it again. I have always said they would have to take me straight from my...