A friend and I were talking the other day about how much breakfast has changed in our lives. Breakfast used to be simple. My mother would break out the Rice Krispies or the Frosted Flakes and put them on the table.

I don’t remember how old I was when I first noticed the old clock on my grandmother’s mantle. Probably no more than 5 or 6.

It seems like it was just yesterday when I was sitting in the Rose Bowl — the ROSE BOWL, y’all! — with a knot in my stomach the size of a Buick. There were a lot of us Georgia fans there, and all of us were silently praying for a miracle.

We used to do some things in this country so simply, and then someone had to come along and complicate matters. What I’m taking about today is colors.

There are few foods in the world as delicious as a fresh, homegrown tomato. And when sliced thin and placed between two pieces of white bread, it creates a delight unrivaled in the culinary world.

In a couple of weeks, I head back for my fourth year as a part-time journalism instructor at the University of North Georgia, so a story I read on the AP wire recently caught my attention.

I’m going to talk about a personal subject, something we don’t always talk about right out in the open. I’m going to talk about toilet paper.

One of my elementary school teachers used to wear her glasses on a chain around her neck. When she needed to read something to us, she put her glasses on. When she stood in front of the class, she took them off and let them hang there.