If you love that mother in your home, get rid of those babes spread out on the coffee table. I’ve had it with them. They’re not good for either soul — male or female! Why do we contemplate airbrushed, digitally altered, Botox laden, breast-enhanced illusions?

My mother submitted a letter to the editor back in 2003.

About 400 graduates will receive diplomas this year from Mesa's Skyline High School.

‘It’s been ten years, now,” the strong voice said on the phone. Mari Justin is a breast cancer survivor. She, along with hundreds of thousands of breast cancer veterans have faced the demons and now crusade alongside those who are fresh on the battlefield.

The burns on the 17-year-old girl’s legs will scar her forever.

Words struggled to exit her throat: “They let us see him. I sat there, behind the curtains and sobbed and hugged my son’s leg. I pleaded, Oh God, Oh God! How can I live without him?” Ten years ago, this month, this East Valley mother buried her only son.

Let’s get my views of the gay and lesbian community out of the way first, to clear the runway for the topic of gays and the Boy Scout program. Yes, some of my “best friends and relatives are gay.” They are lovely people. But, I cannot support gay marriage, yet passionately support civil unions and government benefits that go with.

The NRA and their willing allies — denial, deception, and deflection — are working overtime in the nation’s newspapers, and our Valley dallies are no exception.

It’s very rare that I’m motivated to write a follow up column, but the dangers generated by alcohol’s sacred position in our society demands more attention. Nothing is better to use as comparison than the uproar about the private ownership of guns and the dangers of both.

“One day Alice came to a fork in the road and saw a Cheshire cat in a tree. Which road do I take? She asked. Where do you want to go? was his response. I don’t know, Alice answered. Then, said the cat, it doesn’t matter.”

“Seriously, some people need to get a life. The main news stories on national television have been about Te’o’s girlfriend saga and whether or not Beyonce lip synced at the inauguration. Please find something more news worthy to report about!”

She’s young, tall-model-slender, beautiful and with a song bird voice. I’ll call her Annie. And, today she sits in jail, serving a lengthy term for her history with drugs. Like so many others, her road to trouble started with alcohol.

As we consider New Year’s resolutions, I gladly share a story of Violet Jerome, a family friend who knew the secrets of keeping the Christmas Spirit alive, year round. Come to think of it, with our nation trapped in moral chaos, her story needs to be shared across the land.

Watching "Texas Chainsaw 3-D," the latest screen incarnation of the iconic chainsaw-wielding maniac Leatherface, the mind fairly reels. This purported direct sequel to Tobe Hooper's 1974 horror classic cheerfully ignores that director's own 1986 follow-up, the 1997 and 2003 remakes, the 2006 prequel and even its basic timeline. It scores points for sheer brazenness.

“Just think, if the state of New York had done the right thing, there’d be two more firefighters who would be with us and enjoying Christmas with their families.”

Of course only law enforcement and military should be allowed the possession of assault rifles. And, of course, alcohol should never be served to drivers. Never. And, illegal drugs should be kept away from everyone. Period. Anything that kills should be hidden from the mentally ill, the angry, the bullies, the too-young-to-know-any-better.

For more than five years, teams of employees at the Bank of America call center in Chandler have given what local food banks could only hope for during the season of giving while participating in a little friendly competition:

Thriving families remain the hope of America. And when one does well, it’s a very good thing to put it out there as a paradigm of choice. Many are looking for better ways.

Tis the season in which family problems become magnified. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, thank your lucky heritage. Mixed up in our holiday cheer is nearly always increased strain in relationships. It’s eerie. It begins to build soon after Halloween, kind of like a dust devil that stirs up emotional junk.