Crosses in the sand

We all know that our "national holiday" in the U.S. is Independence Day, better known as the Fourth of July. I'm wondering whether that should be changed to the last Monday in May, Memorial Day.

I started thinking that after attending a pair of Memorial Day ceremonies at cemeteries around the area yesterday morning. They were small events--this is not a big area, after all--but they were very sincere tributes to the men (and women) who died while serving their country during wartime.

At our paper, we've had a special section for the last few years where we interview vets and learn about their war experience. That's one of the special issues I enjoy the most, because the people I talk to are just ordinary people who found themselves thrown into extraordinary circumstances and did their very best to carry out their duty. They did so in many ways--from running the ship engines that transported supplies across the Pacific, to running the tanks that crossed the Rhein at Remagen, to getting trapped during the Battle of the Bulge. We've been concentrating on the World War II vets, because they're dying off rapidly--the war ended 60 years ago.

These men are proud of what they did, and most are involved in military organizations now, such as the Legion and VFW--but they also know about all the misery and heartbreak caused by war.

One of the speakers yesterday talked movingly about the monuments to the soldiers around the country and in Washington, D.C., Arlington National Cemetery and the Vietnam Memorial. He had to pause several times to keep his voice from cracking.

Then, last night, I was watching The National (the nightly newscast on CBC, which we get on our cable system), when they reported on a group of veterans in Santa Monica, Calif., who are placing small white crosses on the Santa Monica beach every Sunday, one for each U.S. soldier killed in Iraq, with their names. The 1600+ crosses are arranged with great precision, and one of the spokesmen explained they do this "to call attention to the horrible price that we pay for the invasion of Iraq."

I was pretty touched, all the more so since the consequences of the U.S. doing what it did were obvious to many of us as our president single-mindedly pushed us and pushed us to war. True, a tyrant was deposed. But think about the enormous price our country, our people and our economy are paying! How do you spell Iraq in seven letters?

I don't know what to write next. I'm just terribly sad about all those crosses they showed in the sand. Not that they're there ... but why they're there.

It's all very logical

The holiday weekend is about half over. It's Sunday night, and I'm doing a little writing while drying off after a shower, yellow towel wrapped around me and my hair pointing every which way (which seems to be the fashion nowadays). The Pistons are trying to catch up with Miami--it's early in the fourth quarter.

Monday is Memorial Day, and I'll be going to two different cemeteries for pictures of the ceremonies in the morning. The weather is supposed to be fine. Then we'll most likely be going out to visit my mom--better remember to phone her later, so she can hide the silverware.

On Saturday, with the paper all done with, we went to Eagle River, Wis., to see the new Star Wars movie. We'd usually go to Iron Mountain for that, but my son wanted to see the theater in Eagle River--they're about the same distance from us, just under an hour away. Enjoyed the movie a lot more than the two previous episodes.

At this point, I was planning to embed a (very obvious) spoiler in this blog--you'd have to click a link to see it--but I don't know how to do that yet.

(I also don't know how to embed pictures in blogs, either. I want them so that the type runs along the side, but I couldn't figure out how (or even if it's possible). I don't like blank space. Been working on newspapers too long, maybe.)

I also invested in a puzzle book. One of those cheapie "Logic Puzzles" books you see at the newsstands. The stars were lined up for it--I think I'm pretty good at logical thinking, so I figured it would be a good mental exercise. They have five levels of puzzles--I thought I'd start with the 3-star puzzles to get warmed up and then go for something challenging.

I bet you can guess the rest of the story. I'm finding that the 1-star puzzles are plenty challenging enough, thank you! I also learned very quickly that a nice dark pen with bold ink doesn't cut it for something like that--some No. 2 pencils are what's called for, not to mention a good eraser.

Oh, I still think I'm fairly good at figuring out puzzles. Well, a little good. Well, better than the average bear. Well, better than an 8-year-old. Well ...

Fast women and the media

While I usually follow the sports news pretty closely, I don't follow auto racing that much. But I can't understand all the buzz about Danica Patrick, who is one of the rookie racers in the Indianapolis 500 today (green flag less than two hours away, as a matter of fact).

Patrick is a woman. Well, there have been (three) women racers in the 500 before. What makes Patrick the subject of this media hype, though, is that she is 23 years old, and she's driving a really fast car--she's got the fourth position in the starting grid, which is really good.

Here's how the CBS Sportsline.com blurb describes it:

"A rookie. The field's lone woman. The sport's possible savior. Danica Patrick bears a heavy burden in today's 89th Indy 500. (1 ET). But Robby Gordon says she has a sizeable edge."

In case you're wondering: The "sizable edge," as it turns out, is that she weighs about 100 pounds--about 100 pounds less than the average Indy driver. So her car weighs less with driver on board, which helps with gas mileage.

So in the runup (a cricket term) to the 500, I'd guess 75% of the media coverage has centered squarely on her. People are saying that if Patrick wins, she could be give open-wheel racing (where the wheels are exposed, unlike the NASCAR hot rods) a major boost in the public eye. You know--a curiosity for the general public.

Patrick, for her part, speaks with great conviction and determination, that she plans to win. By all accounts, she has a very powerful car--she was the fastest driver on Friday, the only day the drivers could give their cars a workout in the final week before the 500.

So I expect to see feature upon feature about Patrick, this race's media darling, and very close attention to everything she does, for however long she does it.

It's way too much media hype for any rookie driver, male or female, but that's just how it is with televised sports nowadays. It seems the coverage is tailored to the very casual fan or to the merely curious, while the hardcore fans are basically taken for granted. I don't like being taken for granted.

That's the way ESPN has evolved in the last five years or so. Fact: The "E" in ESPN stands for Entertainment. While the E has always been before the S (Sports) in the network's name, for the last few years they have given giving the entertainment aspect of a sports event more importance than the event itself. ESPN SportsCenter nowadays seems more like a sports-oriented version of "Entertainment Tonight."

And that's too bad. I remember when ESPN SportsCenter was really, really good for sports fans. It wasn't that long ago, either. Those were the days!

See? I'm getting nostalgic again.

As for Danica, you go, girl. Hope you're able to ignore all the hype, focus on your driving, not get too aggressive (the pitfall of many rookie drivers), stay out of the wrecks and that your car's engine holds together. Have fun!

Deer me!

Good news! The early deadline is ancient history!

* * * * *

While we were finishing up the paper on Friday, my mom called. It was her 83rd birthday, and she said she got a wonderful birthday gift. She lives out in a rural area, about a mile from town, and she said that about an hour ago she saw a little fawn, just sitting in the grass in front of her wood shed. It had been there for about an hour, and she was getting anxious about it--where was its mom?

We talked about it, and I suggested she call the local DNR office. She called back a while later. The DNR people were interested, but they couldn't come out. The fawn was still there, sitting in the grass, nibbling at it occasionally.

Of course, this is the kind of picture I would die for! A baby fawn sitting in the grass, at close range! There were only two problems: (1) My mom lives about an hour away; and (2) it was production day on a short week with a short staff--I couldn't get away, no how, no way.

But I said that if the fawn was still there when we were done, I'd drive down, camera in hand. I figured we would be done in another 90 minutes.

In fact, it turned out to be more like 60 minutes, and I called my mom again to get an update. Was Bambi still there? She looked out her window. Then she said she would go outside. I waited. Finally she came back. Apparently, she said, mom must have finally returned. The fawn was gawn. (sorry, couldn't help that)

Ironically, that same day, as I was sneaking out the side entrance to visit the drive-thru lane of the local Taco Bell at noon, I looked to my right as I started to cross the street--and saw Bambi's mother standing there, watching. "Hello," I said, very friendly-like. She just stood there. I slowly turned around, walked the other way and went back inside the office to get my camera. About a minute later, I was back, camera in hand. Apparently sensing the imminent arrival of the local paparazzi, the deer was not here.

Remember, we're in a small town (about 3,000 people) along a two-lane highway in the North Woods, so deer sightings are pretty common events. Bambi and friends sure could use some pointers on jaywalking, though. Car-deer accidents are common. And because of the distances from small town to small town and the fact that many of the highways are just two lanes wide, people don't like to drive at the speed limit. Like my trip to the conference track meet a few days ago--it took a little over two hours, each way. No interstate highways up here.

So at dawn and especially at dusk, the deer lie in wait until cars are passing by before bursting out and doing a dance on the highway. Usually I can stop in time.
The last deer I hit was about six weeks after I got my current car--about two years ago. I was driving to a baseball game, just slightly over 55 mph, and the deer dashed in front of me with no warning. I may have had a quarter second to put on the brakes, but the deer had signed its death warrant. So I hit him, and my brand new used Mazda (it already had 43,000 miles on it; now it has 85K) had become the U.P.'s newest deermobile.

I've learned over the years that deer usually travel in twos, single file, especially when crossing highways. So if you see one deer crossing the road far enough ahead that it would be on the other side by the time you get there, you better slow down anyway--because another one may be just about to step onto the pavement.

The other thing I've learned--and you people who love animals aren't going to like this--is that the most important thing to do when a deer jumps in your path is to hit the brakes but DON'T TURN THE WHEEL! Because if you swerve, you run a good chance of turning into the path of another car or of going into a ditch and hitting a tree. The deer may get away scot-free, but you could be badly injured or killed. That's not good.

Insurance people tell me that. Don't turn the wheel! If you swerve and cause an accident, it will be your fault. But if you hit the deer, it's regarded as an "act of God" and won't affect your insurance rates.

So what scenario do they show in several TV auto insurance commercials? It's night, and a family is driving home when a deer pops up in the headlights. The people (from the point of view of the deer, I guess) look alarmed, and there is movement to the side.

The next scene shows the people standing outside the car, which has crashed into a tree. Everybody looks OK, and there is a tow truck there and a cop holding a clipboard, taking a report.

I have to laugh. If you hit a tree, you're not going to be feeling too well, even with airbags. Lesson in physics, people: Trees don't bend! They're very solid!
So the lesson is: Hit the damn deer! It's OK. God will make more.

Hasta la vista ... for a while

Sorry, but I must put this bit of self-expression on the shelf for a little while.

It's just becoming an absolutely hellish week at work. A short week (early deadlines) plus short-handed (1/3rd of our 3-person staff gone). So guess on whose shoulders everything winds up?

And I've got to do a bunch of things that didn't get done yesterday due to being out of town. And I'm achy from the long drive and from walking around for three hours--usually at a pretty fast pace, too. Lots of stuff for the camera.

That's the normal stuff. But now I've got the other stuff, too. So ... hope to see you in a few days, once life gets a little less crazy. Right now, I'm feeling uptight, and I don't enjoy that. That's what holiday deadlines are like for us.

Thoughts about sweaty T-shirts

Well, that feels better.

With about an inch of rain last week, the grass has been growing quickly, the dandelions have been growing even faster, so the mower had to come out and go back to work tonight. This time I managed to cut the lawn without braining myself on the clothesposts. :)

While it wasn't particularly warm (about 62F when I went to work, after supper) and the dewpoint wasn't that high (about 45F), I worked up a good sweat. When I was nearly done, I took a break, sat down on the back steps and pulled off my T-shirt--and was surprised by how wet it was. After about 10 minutes, I felt cooled off. I put the wet shirt back on, finished up here and there (where I had missed) and then put the mower away. Then a shower, and I was back to normal.

While resting, my wife brought out a glass of water to me, and we sat on the steps together. I turned to her and said, "You know, I'd take off my shirt even if I was a girl."

I mean, let's be practical here. Men sweat when they work. So do women. Men can take their shirts off when they're in the park, in the yard or on the beach. Why can't women enjoy the same kind of relief from the heat as I was? (I suspect they would if they felt they could.)

If someone had been passing by and looked at me (I was on the back steps, close to the alley), they would just have seen an older guy catching his breath, maybe wonder if he should lose a few pounds and then think nothing more about it. Why should women be subject to different rules? (International readers: I'm referring to the U.S. here--I've read that attitudes are more relaxed in some other countries, but the only other country I've been in is Canada, and then never longer than two days at a time.)

Body image is a real problem in our country. Too many people feel bad if their body isn't just right. And I'm not referring to those who (like me) want to lose a few pounds. I mean the people who obsess over every real or imagined imperfection in their bodies. I'll tell you a story.

This was at least 15 years ago. We had gotten a call that someone had lost their wallet at a local park, in the water off the beach, and some guy in a wet suit was looking for it. What can I say? It was a slow news week.

As I watched for a while, there was a woman (maybe about 25 to 30) in a bikini on the beach nearby, sunning herself. The wallet search was going slowly, so I invited myself over. She looked great. Beautiful. I sure looked as we talked, and at some point I made the observation that she was very pretty, and that I'd like to take her picture.

She said OK to the picture, but she acted as if she didn't feel she was pretty. She pointed out this defect and that defect, parts of her body that she didn't like, that she wished were better. Here I am, convinced that she was beautiful, but she didn't agree--she was dissatisfied with herself.

That memory has stuck in my mind for a long time, especially now that we have become an increasingly narcissistic nation, trying to fight off age and wrinkles and growing tummies and boobs that are too big/small and butts that are too big/small and skin that isn't tan enough and nails and hair that aren't just right. The fashion and cosmetic industries love these people, especially if they have the resources to pursue their personal perfection with boob jobs, tummy tucks, Botox injections and on and on and on.

True: Maybe I don't understand this because I'm male. And you don't have to remind me that many/most women aren't that way. But I still feel that women have more body image problems than men, and I wish it wasn't that way. Of course, it's even worse with young women, who want to be like those impossibly skinny models in the fashion magazines.

I think our world could be a much better place if people felt free to say, "No, I'm don't want to be a thousand times a million; I'm going to be one times one, unique in all the world. I am what I am!"

The pressures to conform and be just like everybody else are enormous. I think some of my readers know that first-hand. It's real hard to buck the system. But it has to be done--it's for a good cause, your own peace of mind. Be proud of who you are and what you stand for. Believe in yourself.

* * * *

Boy, can I go off on a tangent or what! Umm, uhh, the message is take off your shirt if you're feeling really hot and won't freak people out. OK, got it? Good.

Another long trip on Wednesday. This time, it's a track meet way up in Calumet, way, way up in the Keewenaw Peninsula (which sort of pokes up from the south shore of Lake Superior). My car is trusty and thrifty. I've got Sirius satellite radio in it. It'll be a good trip. Hope the rain holds off. But the weather has been behaving better recently. Haven't seen a snowflake for about three weeks.

It's after midnight. I've been writing for well over an hour. Better get to bed.

In a rush, for now

Oh, I wish I had more time to write today! But due to Memorial Day, we have an early deadline, plus one of our tiny staff has to be out of town for a few days (helping her mom in Chicago), so I have to stick to work today--at least get ahead of the game as much as I can. Usually, I can work on stories over the weekend. Not this week, though.

My school board meeting last night went 2 1/2 hours. That's a lot of time. They discussed their family program (i.e., sex education), and their caution was amusing. I want to expand on that when I get the chance. Maybe tonight.

Oh, as you see, I uploaded my first graphic. It's a caricature of W.C. Fields. I've been a Fields fan since I was in my teens, but now, as I get older, I relate to him more and more. Just the frustrations of everyday life and a world that just doesn't want to leave him alone to do his own thing. "It is hard to be an eccentric." I think Mark Twain said that. Oh, I love his old films!

Actually, I was also thinking about a Groucho Marx graphic. I love his stuff, too, especially the earlier Marx Brothers movies and then the "You Bet Your Life" TV series. Several DVDs of them have come out in recent years, and often, when my wife and I can't find anything worth watching on TV, we cue up Groucho and his legion of straight men and women--the contestants on the show. Very clever, very witty. After Groucho died, several people tried to revive the show--and flopped miserably. There was only one.

And I have to tell you, I like that stuff [add in Buster Keaton, Laurel & Hardy, etc.] so much more than what passes for comedy today. (There are exceptions: Bill Murray, for instance.) Maybe I'll expand on that subject some day. I just think there are too many big names making comedy movies that I just don't find very funny.

Hey! I've got my standards!

Status report

I'm about 10 days into this blog, and so far so good. Since I started it, I've met a bunch of nice people (thanks for visits and the hugs), seen a lot of blogs that made me envious of people with even a smidgen of artistic talent and have just basically been enjoying myself wandering around ModBlogLand.

But where do I go from here? I'd like to steer a little bit away from the autobiographical "day in the life" stuff and turn more philosophical (click: that was the sound of bloggers everywhere hitting the "remove blog alert" button). No, no, nothing boring, but to make it more of an inner voice that I won't censor in order to be thought of as a nice guy. I don't want it to be boring because I don't want to be boring. Heaven knows my thoughts and beliefs aren't boring. Controversial, yes. Boring, no.

Other things on my ModBlog checklist:
--Amp up the visual creativity.
--Write more creatively. Sometimes my stuff gets overly dull. Other times, it's sufficiently dull.
--Add some photos. I like to take photos, and some are interesting. Unlike the others I take.
--A little icon for myself. Something that defines the true "me." I know what I'm looking for. Just have to find it.

At any rate, that'll be a project I can't turn to tonight because I have to cover a meeting that often goes 2+ hours. Someday I ought to spell it "School Bored" and see if anyone catches it.

Laid-back Sunday

It's a laid-back Sunday afternoon, and I just came back to life after dozing off on the living room couch while watching the Cubs-White Sox game (for once, I woke up in time to see the final out). Just before sitting down to watch some baseball, we went on a fast trip to the store to replenish our supply of milk and store-brand Rice-A-Roni (one of the staples of life around here).

Suppose I should recap Saturday. My son got a ride to his friend's grad party, so we did get away to visit my mom. We all went for a ride to an out-of-the-way place I found recently where I discovered a buffalo ranch. The bison were very close to the road (a county highway), so I thought my wife and mom would enjoy seeing the critters; I brought my camera along, because I like them, too. But this time, they were in a field maybe a quarter mile away--you could see them in the distance, but you couldn't get closer. So on we went.

A little down the road, we turned east on the highway and soon saw a sign for another bison ranch. I did a double-take, turned the car around and took the road up a half mile or so. Yes, there were bison. Yes, there were pastures right by the road. And yes, the buffalo were about a quarter mile away.

Today's my mom's birthday (she's 83), so we went to dinner together, and she treated herself to waffles, ice cream and strawberries. I had a big burger, and my wife chose broasted chicken. They came back with this cream and red thing that looked like the Rocky Mountains. My mom got through about half of it before appealing for help. I was already full, but I did what I could.

It was a nice drive. Then we dropped her off and headed for home. My son said he had a good time. The cats said, "Hey, we're hungry! We've got our rights here, too!" The Weather Channel radar showed some storms may be moving in during the night.

After feeding the kitties, we sat on the couch together, but my wife was getting tired, so she went upstairs to bed. A few minutes later, I followed her. I was tired, after that big burger plus strawberries and waffles plus a long drive. So I went to bed, too, and cuddled up by her. I touched her. She touched me. I touched her somewhere she likes to be touched. She touched me somewhere I like to be touched. And after that ...

So we both slept very well. Some time during the night, we got some rain. There could have been a storm, for all I know. But how could I know? I was sound asleep. It was a good Saturday, regardless of the camera-shy bison.

Awaiting the thunder

It's Saturday, and I get to relax for a while. Plans are very uncertain. I want to visit my mom, but my son was invited to a graduation party and he doesn't have a license, and we have one car, so I'm also the chauffeur. Maybe he'll be able to get a ride back--it's about three miles away in a neighboring town.

Unsure about the weather, too. Supposedly it will be raining later on--maybe even thunder and lightning. Tomorrow, rain is forecast.

I like thunder and lightning. It's exciting. Around here, it's rare. The storms don't seem to like it around here--they go west of us and south of us, but it's like we're a rock in the middle of a stream--the water parts around it and goes on either side. Maybe it's our elevation, which is a little higher than the surrounding area. At any rate, it seldom storms around here.

That's too bad because I like storms. Not the scary, wild, dangerous storms, but I like the garden variety thunder and lightning, especially at night when I'm in bed. It's thrilling to witness this manisfestation of nature. We have some open country nearby, and sometimes when storms are approaching I take a drive out in the country to a place where there's an open field to the west and just enjoy the show.

Maybe the storms are a little friendly reminder to all of us that we're not so high and mighty as we think we are. Not compared to Mother Nature, which is way mightier than we can even imagine,

Maybe that's the real deity we should be in awe of and should serve. Pay attention, guys!

Late night musings

Busy day today. A lot of running around, mostly for the job. I got through it all OK. Got home late and since then I've just been catching up with the world. But it's late, and my brain may have had one McChicken too many for supper.

I finally got home about 7:20 p.m. and got two McChickens. At the track meet late in the afternoon (weather: mid 40s F, cool, drizzly), I had a couple hot dogs. I sure was Mr. Nutrition today, wasn't I?

I would have stopped at Subway, but there's no Subway within about 40 miles, nor on the way to the meet, so ya gotta take what you can find. Hey, it's the U.P., after all!

Talked to my son on the phone last night. He's sending out resumes, hoping to find that job he wants in the San Fran area. He visited there while in high school (national business competition, after he won at the Michigan state-wide level) and loved it. More open minds. More positive attitude. Less of a "can't-do" attitude. He liked that. And with the way the Big Three auto firms are going (he works for a bank corporation in the Detroit area), he's getting eager to find somewhere else to live. He's been down there five years, so he put in his time. And he's good at what he does, so I think he should find a good position. Even if it does involve me driving his car cross country.

One big challenge awaiting him is cutting down all the junk he has at his apartment. Many, many movies and games for nearly every kind of console there is. You see, he hasn't found a girl yet. Anyway, I told him to do a triage on the movies and games--maybe three-quarters of them don't make the big trip.

Personally, I'm hoping he finds a nice opportunity in the Chicago or Minneapolis area--which is a lot closer to home than Detroit, much less San Francisco. If he goes to California, we'll hardly have a chance to see him again, since we don't have enough money to travel. Just a fact of life.

He's doing OK without us. But I still miss him terribly, even though he's never been back home any longer than a week and a half at a time--ever since I drove him down to college nearly 10 years ago. So long ago.

I'm just rambling tonight. Maybe I'm tired. Geez, it's close to midnight already. And another busy day tomorrow. C ya!

'Scientists amazed'

'Scientists around this area confessed that they were perplexed and dumbfounded by a mysterious apparition that suddenly appeared in the skies above Iron River Friday morning.

'This apparition appeared in the southeast sky in the morning, traveling slowly to the south sky and the southwest in the afternoon.

It was intensely bright, too bright to even look at, blinding local residents who had been used to days and weeks of dark gray skies. It also seemed to radiate heat, as the air seemed warmer than it had for weeks.

'Prof. Bruno Lockjaw of the Western U.P. Research Labs revealed that the strange object had actually been in the sky all along, only we hadn't been able to see it because of dense layers of clouds.

'"In fact, this object, which is known as 'the sun,' is the source of all warmth and energy in the universe. Without it, crops wouldn't grow, flowers wouldn't bloom and young girls wouldn't be able to take off most of their clothes outdoors.

'"Without it, we would only have night baseball. Without it, we couldn't go to the park and just hang out. Without it, we wouldn't be forced to wake up in the morning."

'Prof. Lockjaw went on to say that this apparition may be seen at predictable times every day, so long as the clouds are not in the way, and that its regular visits could greatly improve the mood of local residents.'

The uptight states

The strangest things happen here. I was replying to someone who visited my blog and left a note about me banging my head while mowing the lawn.

First, I thanked her for her note and her concern. Then I remembered that her blog said she lives in Australia, and it went on like this ...

Thanks for checking out my blog. You live in OZ? Way cool! Many times I wished I did. Right now, it's the Uptight States of America, and it's getting tighter all the time. I dream of someday being able to visit. It just seems so much more easy-going than the States, especially now, in our officially proclaimed Age of Paranoia. You go, girl!

Another thing way cool is that you (apparently) get a lot of time with students (college? high school?). I get some opportunities to do that, but only once in a while. I really enjoy them. People who aren't so jaded or cynical or just plain scared of life.

It just came out. But yea, verily, that's the way I feel. My problem is that I'm old enough to remember a time when people as a whole were a lot more tolerant and friendlier than they are today.

See, that's the thing with us older folks. We tend to get nostalgic for the days when we were young, like when there was a lot more peace and love than there is today.

Those were the days.

I forgot to duck

Last night, we had one of our first decent spring evenings for a while. The grass was getting too long, so I got the lawn mower out for the first time this year, set in the battery (it's an electric mower; no gas fumes, no temperamental engine) and went to work.

Things went OK until the back yard, where my wife's clothesline is set up. That thing doesn't like me for some reason. It's always trying to take a poke at me. So anyway, I was trying to negotiate the mower under the poles and crossbars without cracking my head, and for the most part did well--until POW, I raised my head too soon and cracked my noggin, just below the hair line, on the right front. No blood, no major damage, but I got a nice bump for my troubles. Anyway the lawn looks a lot better.

I spent a lot of this morning tracking down some photos (JPG files) for the family of one of the local kids who is graduating from high school this year. I took a number of football and wrestling photos of him over the years, and they wanted some of those action shots for his graduation party. Most of them I found--the one I couldn't find was before we went digital at the paper. Fortunately, I keep archives of all my photo files.

Sometimes, the kids who work on high school yearbooks ask me for some photos they can use, so I make a CD of what I've got--as I tell them, "the good, the bad and the ugly."

The weather forecast said it would be cloudy but about 60F today. Well, it's cloudy, alright, but only about 50F or so (+10C). I've got to head out to cover a high school track meet this afternoon, about 50 miles away. A couple other errands to do, too. Maybe visit my mom, who turns 83 this month, but maybe not--I think we'll be visiting her over the weekend, anyway.

Charging up for a long, long drive?

Nothing lasts forever. Not even digital camera batteries. Even if you follow all the recommended ways to preserve their lives, they fade away over time. I am today charging up some brand new ones (2500 mAB) to replace some older and weaker (2100 mAB) ones I have used for the last few years. The problem is that the old ones don't hold their charge very long now; it seems that minutes after I change batteries, I see the dreaded "half battery" icon in the viewfinder.

I have three or four sets of four batteries each--I keep that many so I can have spares ready to go when another set starts wearing down. And I sure use them. When you cover sports for a weekly paper, the camera gets used a lot, and our recent weather (temperatures mostly in the low 40sF--which is about +5C) isn't good for battery life, either.

Once I get back to the office, the sets of batteries go into the charger and get their power zapped back up again.

Gee, maybe there should be a battery charger for people. I could use one, especially on a Monday, when we're putting the paper together. My batteries seem to take less and less time to discharge, too. Hmmm, you don't think?

But the paper is all done, and there's little to do at the moment except wait for page proofs we can check over for mistakes before sending them off to the press. Quiet for now.

I've got to talk to my wife tonight about plans for the summer. We're planning to drive south, to near Madison, Wis., in a few weeks, and we have to hammer out the dates and details.

One big unknown is what happens to my oldest son. He lives in Detroit now but is thinking about a big move--out to California. And one of the complications of such a change is how to get his car out there--it's a good car, and he wants to keep it. But he's not so cool on paying someone $800 (he says) and waiting two weeks to drive it out there.

So, of course, good old dad speaks up and volunteers his services. First, I'd have to drive from the western U.P. to Detroit, which is about 500 miles by itself. Then, the big trip west. 2,000 miles or so? 2,500? The kicker is that while I love to drive, I've never been west of the Mississippi River (for more than an hour at a time, anyway) in my entire life.

So right now, I'm wondering whether that's going to happen. And when. And how I'll handle it. The part I'm not looking forward to is being by myself all that time. It's OK for driving, and I'll probably get across the country faster that way. But I get lonely too easily.

Maybe it won't happen. At this point, there's no reason to worry about it. But I wonder ...

Yeah, I know. Time will tell.

Everything I know ...

This blog: It got its start. It's new and shiny. The problem is, already I'm second-guessing what I should be writing instead of just slipping my brain into gear and letting it flow. The old stream of consciousness thing. Put it in gear and let it out. Sometimes when I do that, it flows in strange and interesting directions. Correct the grammar and spellings later. Hey, it's a blog, so who's counting?

The haircut: What's the big deal about that? Well, I had an odd observation about that last night, and now it isn't coming back to me. Something about keeping hair the same length. Struck me as amusing at the time. And now ... see what I mean about capturing the thought at the moment? Now it's not so fresh ... and it's gone.

About my lost friend: She lives about 125 miles away, and now she has to move down to Chicago (400 miles away) to take care of her mom. I didn't get many chances to see her (last visited in February) and was planning to visit in a month or so ... and now it's not going to happen. We were just friends, and I enjoyed being with her. It's not going to happen again, though.

Need more friends. People seem to do that easier when they're younger, but I wonder why it isn't easy now, now that I'm at an age when people should be more realistic about themselves and their place in the universe.

Like me. This year, my theme should be "Everything You Know Is Wrong." I've been reassessing the feelings I've had for most of my life about religion, about monogamy. I've been believing in them less and less with every passing year, and now, through what I call internet spelunking, I've come to realize that many people feel that way.

It's not that I disbelieve in God/Jesus (though I have no way of knowing whether some other religion is correct--this is just the only one I have ever experienced). Who's to say? So I believe in God (to use the name I am most familiar with), but I'm not comfortable with religion. It's doctrine, it's preaching. When I stumbled upon the Liberated Christians website, it was a real eye-opener. You mean to say there is more than one person who feels the way I do?

I've been reading it from time to time, and I suppose that will be a link on this page before too long.

...
There! See what I mean about putting the brain in gear and just letting it flow?

Feeling scared (?)

So why am I scared? It's because (ta-daah!) I have started blogs before, only to abandon them when other junk I'm doing seems more important or when I just plain run out of time.

So the blog gets ignored, and days pass and months pass and years pass, etc.
Like tonight. I wanted to write for a while now, but I can feel that I'm getting tired and the thoughts are jambled up.

Topics to expand upon: gaining a blog, losing a friend, my haircut (today), our crappy weather.

Well (a word I use a lot when I'm not exactly sure how to start a sentence), at least I completed one bloggerific blog entry. Maybe in the next day or week or month or year I'll write another one.

Oh, it's tough to have so many thoughts crowding around, looking for attention!