Don Newbury
Dr. Newbury spent more than 40 years in higher education, including presidencies at Western Texas College in Snyder and Howard Payne University, and was named HPU Chancellor in 1995. He and his wife, Brenda, live in Burleson, TX, where they have lived since semi-retirement began in 2000. He has been a public speaker for more than 60 years and continues to fill engagements throughout the state. His column, begun in 2003, runs in about 200 print and online newspapers, mostly in Texas. During his HPU presidency, enrollment reached an all-time high of some 1,400, and several major buildings were constructed. Their daughters, Jana Penney and Jeanie McDaniel, are HPU alums, as was their oldest daughter, Julie Choate, who was an elementary school principal in Aledo when she died at age 50 of a pulmonary embolism in 2020. Dr. Newbury, a 1956 graduate of Early High School, holds B.A., M.J. and Ph.D. degrees from HPU, University of Texas and University of North Texas, respectively. He also is the recipient of an HPU honorary doctorate. Dr. Newbury has authored several books and now serves in senior adult ministry at Burleson First Baptist Church.
The Idle American
THE IDLE AMERICAN: Mostly Miscellany
Here comes another “Mother Hubbard” column. That’s how preachers sometimes describe their sermons–comparable to “Mother Hubbard” dresses. They cover everything but touch nothing…. ***** Why are we not surprised? Researchers claim that many companies are taking
THE IDLE AMERICAN: When boredom seems terminal
Now that the election is over, my ancient Uncle Mort and his domino-playing buddies down in the thicket can resume their usual mostly-minutia confabs that too often lack authenticity. This reminds me of the annual
THE IDLE AMERICAN: Our Annual Popcorn Rush
Carl Sandburg–his poetry collections winning three Pulitzer Prizes–warmed the hearts of Americans with his beautiful description of how tides roll in, “on little cat feet.” He would be hard-pressed to similarly describe crowd’s arrivals at
THE IDLE AMERICAN: Out on a limb
The deeper dive one takes into life’s hourglass of time, the more likely it is to ponder nuggets of health news that might affect longevity. One jumped out at me the other day when a
THE IDLE AMERICAN: Hope, highways and byways
Bob Hope, beloved humanitarian, comedian and patriot, may have been America’s best ambassador of international goodwill–ever. He was able to “localize” his jokes and stories no matter where he appeared. Always on the road, this British-born
THE IDLE AMERICAN: Intersections of life
Names of luminaries met at intersections along our pathway keep popping up as corner posts in life’s fence row. They are not remembered as being Republican or Democrat, rural or urban, liberal or conservative. Each, however,
THE IDLE AMERICAN: Away from it all
If we weren’t totally “away from it all,” we were on the outskirts, kind of like the characters in the delightful 1953 Broadway musical “Brigadoon.” Only the long of tooth remember the tale of
THE IDLE AMERICAN: Breathe, Mort, Breathe!
Jiminy Cricket! I never dreamed I’d be writing about an insect popularized by Pinocchio, or that this week’s piece may warrant bottom-of-the-barrel placement. I may have reached a new low, what with insects in the
THE IDLE AMERICAN: Austin in crosshairs
The arrival of the football-playing Coleman triplets at the University of Texas in Austin for 2025’s fall semester may break several records before they even meet BEVO, the Longhorns’ beloved mascot. When have three guys
THE IDLE AMERICAN: On becoming a year older
I have probably made this claim previously, but most friends know that my respect for redundancy has never been more than trivial. So, here I go again, certain that there finally are but two groups of
THE IDLE AMERICAN: Someone call security
Stephen Cox is not an imposing figure. Still, he has the countenance and features to be a Clark Kent look-alike, even if considerably smaller in stature. You remember Clark, right? He’s the guy who
THE IDLE AMERICAN: Waterford Dominoes?
It was an absolute accident that likely couldn’t be duplicated, even with the most fastidious planning. My Uncle Mort and three of his buddies playing dominoes at the general store in the thicket were