Sometimes things just don’t go as planned. For example, nobody could have seen a pandemic taking Dad and the band off the road. It still seems like something out of The Twilight Zone sometimes.

“This is a day of new beginnings, new year, new hope, new resolve, a 365-day period of progress and accomplishment. Let’s all make the day count. “ – Charlie Daniels 2017

Happy New Year, everyone!

Dad, you would have been 88 years old today, two years away from 90, and it’s still hard to believe you’re gone.

*NOTE* In honor of the Sixteenth Anniversary of Charlie's Grand Ole Opry induction, here's a Soapbox Rewind from 2008, just before he was inducted, and he shares his feelings on his then-upcoming induction. - TeamCDB

On Friday, January 18th, I will catch a plane from Durango, Colorado, where I'm on vacation, en route to Nashville, Tennessee, which is the last fifteen hundred miles of a journey of several million which started one afternoon in Gulf, North Carolina, circa 1951 when I was visiting a friend, Russell Palmer, and he pulled out an old Stella guitar.

Goodbye 2023, hello 2024! 

It’s a fresh start on another 365 days for us to seize and – as dad would say - make count, and if he was still here, I have no doubt he would still be making his days count.

He always did. 

*NOTE* Charlie will be back with a brand new soapbox on Monday, in the meantime, here's a rewind from way back in 2003. - TeamCDB/BW

To you who have read this column for years this piece may seem a little redundant since I have written on this subject before. But it is such a frequently asked question that I feel I should revisit it from time 
to time.

*NOTE* Charlie will be back with a brand new soapbox on Monday, in the meantime, here's a soapbox rewind from 2009. - TeamCDB/BW

I guess it may be a sign of my advancing age or a healthy case of nostalgia in fond remembrance of a simpler time in my life, but sometimes I find my thoughts wandering back to a time and place in my young life when my responsibilities consisted making sure the wood box was full and keeping my grades above the passing line.

As I write this, the “Tennessee Midlands,” as dad used to call them appear to be heading full speed into spring as tree frogs are singing, daffodils are starting to bloom, many of the trees are just beginning to bud.

*NOTE* We haven't done this in a while, but the time seems right to reexamine this soapbox of Charlie's from September of 2018. He was speaking of how things could have changed had the 2016 election gone differently, but it is downright prophetic compared to our nation in 2021. - TeamCDB

If this piece is going to have any impact, it cannot be viewed through partisan eyes, conservative, liberal, Republican, Democrat. Preconceived political prejudice and implacable attitudes must be cast aside. 

I’ve had some criticism lately after a few political soapboxes that I have written recently, and I wanted to address that in a soapbox which is a combination of a political one, and a Charlie Daniels memories one.

This is going to be a different soapbox for a change, neither political nor really about dad. Consider this a manifesto of sorts. We take this sort of thing seriously in this organization and have for many years.

When I left off last time, I mostly covered dad’s support of the Tennessee Vols and some appearances at Nashville Predators Stanley Cup Semi-Finals games, but there was more to tell, and a few points I needed to finish.

Super Bowl LV is in the books, and it made me realize that I’ve written several things about my dad in the recent months, but very little about one of his passions, sports.

Sunday, January 31^st marked the first day that mom and I have been back to World Outreach Church in Murfreesboro since dad’s funeral on July 10^th 2020.

I’ve been writing more politically themed soapboxes recently, and as I’ve mentioned, CNSNews, which often picked up dad’s politically-themed soapboxes asked me if I wanted to take on some current events topics, instead of just memories of my dad.

After reading comments over the last several months, I have decided that I need to start my political soapboxes with a disclaimer for people that obviously didn’t follow dad’s social media until after his passing, I'll have a new one about him soon, for those sick of politics.

“Who controls the past controls the future; who controls the present controls the past.”        – ‘1984’ George Orwell                                                                                                           

Happy New Year, such as it is…

I’ve been struggling on what to write for several days now and have started over at least four times as things are changing drastically from day to day.

On Thursday, I wrote a preamble to go with dad’s “A Carolina Christmas Carol’ and I mentioned that most likely I would not be posting anything until after the first of the year unless something jumped out at me.

For those who haven’t been following dad’s soapbox, my Soapbox Jr’s or social media until this year, then you may not know the history of this story, or the tradition regarding it.

I haven’t watched a single Christmas special this year, visions of sugarplums aren’t dancing in my head, and I feel more like saying “Bah humbug” than wishing Christmas cheer.

Around Thanksgiving, Beau L’Amour - son of author Louis L’Amour - emailed me. I have spoken to his mother, Kathy, a few times over the past 15 years, but I don’t think I have spoken to nor seen Beau in probably close to 30 years.

The upcoming vote was touted as a referendum on the president.

The cases had been made, the public listened to the arguments for both sides, and the big day had finally arrived. The excitement in the air was evident, and voter turnout was expected to be historic. The lines were longer than normal with many voters standing in line for hours to enthusiastically to cast their votes.

People seemed to like the stories about Twin Pines Ranch, so I thought I’d relate a few more memories of growing up there.

As I mentioned previously, we moved between my 8^th and 9th-grade year in junior high from Mt. Juliet proper out to Twin Pines which was closer to Gladeville, “Where Softball is King.”

“Curiouser and curiouser!” Cried Alice (she was so much surprised, that for the moment she quite forgot how to speak good English).” – Lewis Carroll

Recently, I’ve been writing a political soapbox on Fridays and one about dad on Monday, well, since yesterday was Thanksgiving and I was up until 2 AM getting the CDB website store loaded with goodies for Black Friday, and then promoting said goodies today at a breakneck pace, so… I missed my Friday political soapbox. Since I dropped the ball, we’ll go non-political a day late on Saturday, and back to politics on Monday, should be a lot to write about by then, and if my revised soapbox schedule throws your schedule off, just turn your clock inside out, and imagine it’s Monday after all.

Time sure flies, hard to believe we are in November, and it’s almost Thanksgiving. But it’s upon us.

A couple of months ago, I wrote about wearing a pair of dad’s shoes which mom gave me, and the overall metaphor of literally of walking in dad’s shoes.

We’re hearing a lot about potential voter fraud and rigging of the 2020 election in the news these days. I am not saying with certainty that is what happened, but from what I have seen and heard, I am concerned about what could potentially be the most widespread voter fraud in our nation’s history.

I’ve had some criticism lately after a few political soapboxes that I have written recently, and I wanted to address that in a soapbox which is a combination of a political one, and a Charlie Daniels memories one.

Here we are, 10 days later, and votes are still being counted, and unless you believe that the media certifies election results, nobody has won the 2020 presidential election yet.

On this day set aside to honor those who have served, here's a Soapbox Rewind of Charlie's from 2017. - TeamCDB/BW

I know Veterans Day has come and gone but I wanted to devote another column to our veterans, as it is my belief that we can never say enough or do enough for the people who have