Teresa Mull

Tomorrow is one of the best days of the year, Kentucky Derby Day. It means spring is really, finally, officially here, because whatever the weather, how can you not feel balmy and cheerful when you’re balancing assorted plumage on your head and have a fourth Mint Julep in your hand? This year’s Derby, however, is off to a dark start. Four horses have died this week at Churchill Downs; two sustained life-ending injuries and two others collapsed and died suddenly for unexplained reasons. The trainer of the latter two horses, Saffie Joseph Jr., was banished from the weekend after scratching all but one of his other entrants.

Pennsylvania experienced a heat wave last week, with temperatures soaring into the mid-80s. It was not to last. This morning it was a balmy 33°F, with that bone-chilling dampness and threat of snow showers that can only mean one thing: spring! When friends and family who live in warm places send me photos of the beach and brag about taking long walks in the sunshine, I block out their bragging with a defiant flip of my hood and insist that people who live in cold places are tougher. We have more character. True grit. And it turns out that may actually be true. "Cold temperature extends longevity and prevents disease-related protein aggregation," according to a new peer-reviewed study from Germany's University of Cologne. Longevity, i.e.

When it comes to using trans influencer Dylan Mulvaney to promote the iconic Bud Light brand — a favorite beer here in the backwoods — my first impulse was in line with that of Kid Rock, who used cases of the stuff for target practice. It’s a reaction many Americans, insulted by what they perceive to be an attack on their traditional values and gender stereotypes, are having to varying degrees as they boycott the beer giant, reportedly to the tune of billions of dollars. Progressives, meanwhile, can’t get enough of Mulvaney.

Our collective Man Card is on the verge of being rescinded. The number of lonely, single men is rising – and testosterone levels are falling. The causes of our macho decline are myriad, but a quick fix is at hand: it’s time to bring back sideburns. It seems these days that the only facial hair options most men consider are beard or clean-shaven. Gone is the cheeky pencil-thin moustache sported so dashingly by Errol Flynn and the devil-may-care ’burns rocked by Harrison Ford’s Han Solo. The Lionel Richies and Tom Sellecks of the world still play their part in the strong whisker game, but that’s probably owed to the same reason members of ZZ Top could never shave.

The Kraft Heinz company has developed a pair of Lunchables meals slated to be served in school cafeterias starting next fall. The initiative has reignited a worthy debate over the nutrition found — and mostly not found — in school lunches. Folks are making a big fuss over the debut of Lunchables, as if the plastic packages of cardboard coasters that pass for pizza are somehow playing sloppy seconds to the gourmet wonders our schools have been crafting up to this point. Unless things have significantly improved since I graduated, Lunchables might actually be an upgrade from what most cafeterias specialize in — mystery meat sandwiches and those limp, anemic crinkle fries that led to my lifelong loathing of ketchup.

When I lived in Idaho, people would ask my mother, “Why did she move to Iowa?” Sometimes they’d break into a frenetic rendition of the B-52’s “Private Idaho” or make a potato joke. Otherwise they didn’t really know what to say about the Gem State. Residents are proud of Idaho’s obscurity. They encourage it. Iterations of “Idaho is hideous, don’t come here” are a common tongue-in-cheek caption added to breathtaking social media photos of majestic mountain landscapes and pristine trout streams.

When I arrived in East Palestine, Ohio, on Wednesday, the quaint Main Street was a red, white and blue sea of people waiting in chilly, drizzly weather for Donald Trump to arrive. I met up with Brian and Samantha, who live three miles from the site of the Norfolk Southern train derailment. They were acting as Tulsi Gabbard’s tour guide and graciously invited me to tag along. The East Palestine area is a typical rural community. Villages with little more than a volunteer fire department and a basic convenience-style store are scattered across the countryside. People enjoy their space and peace and quiet, but they’re also close-knit and neighborly.