Ranzenblog

Inside journalism - the reality of it all

2012-02-01T10:55:00.001-05:00

This seems to be a documentary.

The long-lasting Escort

2012-01-22T17:41:00.004-05:00

This was the scene early one morning at Walgreen's - two little white Escorts, side by side. One is mine, the other, well, it's around, but I don't have any idea whom it belongs to.
My Escort is beat up and getting a little rusty. It's 11 years old, and the odometer just rolled past 190,000 miles.
But it still gets me where I want to go. It still starts with one turn of the key. It still gets decent gas mileage.
They don't make them any more.

Blame Iran

2012-01-03T22:08:00.002-05:00

Iran's saber-rattling in the Straits of Hormuz is taking cash out of our pockets.
The energy traders on Wall Street are worried. They probably should be. Iran is declaring it can control one of the choke points in the world's supply of oil.
The U.S. Navy is standing by to stop the Iranians if they try, but if it comes to that, that's a shooting war.
Shooting wars disrupt business. That's already driving up the price of crude oil - it went past $100 a barrel today - and the futures price of gasoline.
Given that increase, I think we can expect a retail price move within the next couple of days, probably to a prevailing major-brand price of at least $3.559 a gallon in Michigan. There's still a little play in the prices, for now, but unless something changes drastically, what you see today might be the best you get for a while.

640-1240 Conelrad: Alert today, alive tomorrow!

2011-12-26T18:36:00.001-05:00

I remember this stuff - and I was so disappointed that Dad didn't want to build a fallout shelter in the back yard.

Today's Earworm: The Winters Brothers Band

2011-12-13T06:04:00.002-05:00

Back in the mid-1970s, yet another album of country rock came into the WBRN studios. This was nothing out of the ordinary - southern rock was hot in those days. The Allman Brothers Band, the Marshall Tucker Band, Lynyrd Skynyrd, the Atlanta Rhythm Section and others combined really high quality musicianship, extended jams and a country sensibility. I loved it - still do.
This album came from an obscure band called the Winters Brothers Band, and it was truly excellent. They came from Nolensville, Tenn., and I fell in love with this extended jam:

That's been running through my head for the last couple of weeks.
The band's still playing, still working hard, still jamming, 35 years later.

Hipsters: A clear and present danger

2011-12-10T10:51:00.000-05:00

Now it can be told: The Muppets brainwash your children against capitalism

2011-12-06T22:02:00.001-05:00

From Fox News:

The new single from Elliot Street Lunatic

2011-11-15T21:38:00.003-05:00

Elliot Street Lunatic is a mid-Michigan band with a remarkable sound.
I first became aware of them when they played at Rubble's a few months ago, and got blown away by their sound. They don't sound at all like a college-town bar band.
They're young, hard-working, have day jobs and love their music. They're getting some attention, as well.

Here's their new single - Ghost Town.

Ghost Town by Elliot Street Lunatic

It's available on iTunes.

A woman dressed as a mattress

2011-11-12T15:56:00.002-05:00

Saturday afternoon in Mount Pleasant: A woman dressed as a mattress goes through the checkout line at Ric's.

A superior customer experience

2011-10-30T14:57:00.001-04:00

My old friend Jack Telfer, the editor of the Midland Daily News, wrote a column today pointing out how drastically things have changed since he (and I) were teenagers. I’m actually older than he is. He wrote it with what I took to be an air of disapproval at how many things we took for granted have been replaced by new and different ways of doing things.
All these new and different things entered the capitalist marketplace and were accepted. They might just as easily have failed, except they were better than the systems they replaced.
Jack looked askance at how his daughter told him to just recycle a 4-pound telephone directory, because she and her family looked things up online. He was surprised that she would rather “do the work herself” than allow the directory to do it for her.
It doesn’t work that way, Jack. My wife can take her 4.9-ounce iPhone and look up any business, anywhere. It will tell her which location is closest. She can put the address into Google Maps and get directions. She can call (or e-mail, or instant-message) the shop and find out if the product she wants is in stock, if the website doesn’t already tell her. She can carry all this in her purse, something she can’t do with a 4-pound directory.
In short, it’s a superior product and a superior customer experience.
Jack also waxes nostalgic over full-service gasoline delivery. I much prefer self-serve, and have for more than 30 years. My own gas tank is a little quirky; when the automatic shutoff kicks in, there’s still room for 3.5 gallons of unleaded. I know this. I can fill it to where I want it and save myself a trip to the service station.
My wife’s car, on the other hand, is absolutely full when the shutoff kicks in. Don’t even try to top it off to round it up to the next dollar.
No gas jockey would know, or would be expected to know, these things. And I’m old enough to remember the smeary, ugly jobs gas jockeys did while “washing” my dad’s windshield. Thanks, I’ll do it myself for a superior customer experience.
Automatic tellers? A lifesaver. For nearly 30 years, I’ve pulled cash from the bank after hours. Even when the bank’s open, it’s simpler, faster and more secure to get cash while in my car. I still use tellers for deposits or anything special, but there’s no reason to waste their time and mine – and the time of the person behind me in line - if it’s a routine stop for pocket money. It’s a superior customer experience.
Self-serve scanning and bagging at the supermarket? I’ll do it when I can. The lines are shorter, I’m at least as good at scanning as most cashiers, and not once have I put the bleach on top of the bread. Now, I can even bag my groceries according to where I’ll put them away.
And weirdly enough, the robot voice saying “Thank you for shopping at Meijer” sounds more sincere than most human cashiers. It’s all part of a superior customer experience.

Happy Birthday, Dad

2011-10-11T20:05:00.006-04:00

Monday would have been my Dad’s 98th birthday.
Dad’s been gone a long time, and I’m only now beginning to get a handle on what kind of a person he was. His life was so very different from mine, and I’m now starting to realize that good part of that was his doing.
I’m now the age Dad was when I started high school. The poor man.
Dad was driven by duty: duty to God, duty to family, duty to country. It was so much a part of his being that even asking why that duty existed was heresy.
I started ninth grade three weeks after Woodstock.
Dad didn’t think much of rebels. Dad didn’t think much of people who were hip and cool. Dad didn’t think much of the Revolution of the ’60s. Dad really hated rock-and-roll.
His son knew nothing else, loved rock-and-roll, and desperately wanted to be cool. The idea of a career in the media? Heresy.
It was a good thing Dad a duty to family. I might have been family, but without that sense of duty, I would have been out on my behind about, oh, 1970.
It wasn’t until near the end of his life, when my boss exuberantly told him that I was the best thing that had ever happened to the boss’s radio station (the boss was drunk, but what he said had an impact on Dad) that Dad finally thought maybe I might have known what I was doing.
Dad never sat at a computer, but he insisted I learn how to type. That, in and of itself, changed my life. He was a U.S. Navy storekeeper in the South Pacific in World War II, then came back to civilian life and worked the rest of his career as an accountant. I suspect he would have loved Excel and Access, but I have no idea how he would have reacted to the world of the Web, iPads, iPods, mobile phones and satellite video.
I can't even imagine what he would have thought of a world where major players are called Google and Yahoo.
Dad was something unusual in his generation: A university graduate. He graduated from the University of Michigan in 1940, at the age of 26. He wasn’t too unhappy when it took me until 26 to graduate from Central, although he never understood the appeal of “that teachers college” I fell in love with the first time I walked onto the campus.
It was a great place to meet girls, Dad.
And even though he was a U of M grad, he didn’t think much of college professors. I think it was from him that I first heard the term “overeducated fool.”
We were so, so different. I learned from him that I had to accept my own children as being very different from me, as well. That wasn’t something Dad tried to teach, but I learned it anyway.
Funny thing. I don’t think he told me he loved me until after I graduated from college. I think he maybe, maybe, accepted me. But I’m not sure he ever liked me.
I don’t know if I ever would have or could have been friends with my dad. Maybe that was the whole point.
I’m glad Dad did his duty to his family. It got me here.
Happy birthday, Dad.

Will there be a middle class for my kids to join?

2011-09-04T12:37:00.002-04:00

From The Atlantic: A continued push for better schooling, the creation of clearer paths into careers for people who don’t immediately go to college, and stronger support for low-wage workers—together, these measures can help mitigate the economic cleavage of U.S. society, strengthening the middle. They would hardly solve all of society’s problems, but they would create the conditions for more-predictable and more-comfortable lives—all harnessed to continuing rewards for work and education. These, ultimately, are the most-critical preconditions for middle-class life and a healthy society.
Can the Middle Class Be Saved?

But can this be done by a rotten political system? Both parties are not rotten in quite the same way. The Democrats have their share of machine politicians, careerists, corporate bagmen, egomaniacs and kooks. Nothing, however, quite matches the modern GOP. To those millions of Americans who have finally begun paying attention to politics and watched with exasperation the tragicomedy of the debt ceiling extension, it may have come as a shock that the Republican Party is so full of lunatics.

From Truth-out.org: Goodbye to All That: Reflections of a GOP Operative Who Left the Cult

Has this been on "Dirty Jobs?"

2011-07-12T22:41:00.002-04:00

A steeplejack from Fedewa Inc. of Nashville, Mich., uses a power washer to get the crud off the bottom of Union Township's 500,000-gallon water tower at the township hall. The crud is a mix of dirt - and, um, mold.

Can we do justice to a hero?

2011-06-29T09:15:00.004-04:00

I’m a guy in my mid-50s, the time of life when going to funerals starts to become a sad, routine part of life.
I’ve been going to funerals, but not of people my age. I’m going to another funeral tomorrow of a young person, an achiever, who died young.
His name’s Brian Backus, or more specifically, Pfc. Brian Backus, U.S. Army.
I got an e-mail from his dad with the subject line “Sad news.” No, it went beyond, far beyond sad. “Sad” doesn’t do it justice.
The boilerplate casualty announcement from the Department of Defense doesn’t tell the story, just as they don’t ever tell the story:
DOD Identifies Army Casualty
The Department of Defense announced today the death of a soldier who was supporting Operation Enduring Freedom.
Pfc. Brian J. Backus, 21, of Saginaw Township, Mich., died June 18, in Kandahar province, Afghanistan, of wounds suffered when insurgents attacked his unit with small arms fire. He was assigned to the 2nd Battalion, 87th Infantry Regiment, 3rd Brigade Combat Team, 10th Mountain Division, Fort Drum, N.Y.
For more information, media may contact the Fort Drum public affairs office at 315-772-8286.
U.S. Department of Defense
Office of the Assistant Secretary of Defense (Public Affairs)
When I met Brian, he was probably 7 years old, a Tiger Cub in Pack 3582, Harbor Beach. I had just become the Scoutmaster of Troop 582 in Harbor Beach, and Brian’s dad was the pack’s Cubmaster and the chairman of the troop committee. Even though my family spent only a couple of years in Harbor Beach, we became close to the Backus family.
Every summer, until the middle part of the decade, we were part of the staff of summer Cub Scout camps at Camp Rotary and Paul Bunyan Scout Reservation. These camps were just magic. Oh, we went by the book, sort of, but the staff made these camps go far beyond the ordinary. They were staffed by adult leaders who were really good at what they did and had fun doing it, and youth staff (our kids) who were bright and creative and destined for achievement.
Brian became president of his class at Harbor Beach High School. He went to the University of Michigan for a while, but ended up joining the Army. He became a medic.
I can’t describe the admiration I have for combat medics and hospital corpsmen, whose job it is to save lives even as the battle rages around them. Courage, sacrifice – those words don’t do justice to what they do, either.
Katherine had maintained the closest contact with Brian. They Skyped occasionally, and she had talked to him just a few days before he died. She cried when I broke the news to her.
What made it even harder was that Brian was the second member of that magic Cub Scout camp youth staff to die. Matt Boles of Mt. Pleasant, who died in a swimming accident in 2009, also was part of that group of kids and adults who gathered around lakeside campfires on summer nights and shared the joy of being outdoors, being Scouts, being destined for great things.
The gym at Harbor Beach High School, the largest gathering place in that little town on Lake Huron, will be packed tomorrow. The town’s streets were lined with mourners when Pfc. Backus’ body was returned, and most of those people will be there, as well.
The Army honor guard will salute the fallen hero. “Taps” will be played and there will be many, many tears. Many, many words will be said, but none of them will do justice to all the tomorrows that changed forever when Brian died.

The European way:

2011-06-27T07:29:00.004-04:00

The resurfaced south end of South Mission Street is open, and it's been restriped for very obvious pedestrian crosswalks - and shoulders that aren't quite official bike lanes, but certainly will be used that way.
The traffic lanes are a little narrower than they used to be, and it's almost certain we'll hear from people griping about it. That's how seriously we love wide-open, fast-flowing traffic.
So imagine what it would be like to take a European approach to traffic management, as reported by The New York Times?
In a land I've heard public transportation referred to as "welfare wagons," I think it might be kind of a tough sell.

Stayin Alive in the Wall

2011-02-19T21:09:00.000-05:00

Just brilliant. Thanks to Tom Moore for turning me on to this.

Uncle Jay explains the news

2011-01-24T09:28:00.003-05:00

Uncle Jay fills us on on what the news really, really means this week.

A rainbow over the mountain town

2010-09-27T21:14:00.002-04:00

A gorgeous double rainbow appeared over Mt. Pleasant this evening.
It stretched virtually horizon to horizon. Where was the end of the rainbow?
One Tweet from czach1r: The double rainbow ends at Kelly/Shorts stadium. How FREAKING epic.
Nah - it ended at the state police post. You see that in the photo.
But that's not what Kissy Missy informed me: "The rainbow ends at the sewage treatment plant."

The Jazz Police

2010-09-06T18:28:00.004-04:00

For the second time in the past three years, the Mt. Pleasant High School Jazz Band was invited to play at the Detroit International Jazz Festival.
The Oiler jazz band was hot, and among the hottest pieces they played was "The Jazz Police."
High school jazz bands are placed on their own stage near the fountain at Campus Martius on Woodward Avenue where Woodward, Monroe and Michigan Avenue come together. At this gathering place, people on their way to see the "name" acts on the jazz festival bill suddenly stopped, wondering who this hot band was.
Mt. Pleasant? High School? Awesome.

Diary of a Band Dad

2010-08-25T04:28:00.003-04:00

This fall, we've got not one, but two bands to follow.
Robert's a senior at Mt. Pleasant High, and he's in his second year as a drum major for the MPHS Marching Band.
And Kat's a freshman at CMU, and she's joined the Chippewa Marching Band as a member of the flag corps.
The Oiler band finished band camp - and if the sound after just a few days of practice is any indication, they're a really tight unit with a great show.
The Marching Chips, meanwhile, are the largest band CMU has ever had, with about 280 members. The pregame show sounds like it always has - and when the CMU Fight Song filled Kelly/Shorts Stadium late Sunday, it darn near made me cry.
Weirdly, both bands' shows feature music from Styx. I'm expecting a lot of that to be stuck in my head the next few months.

The rainbow - a sign?

2010-07-12T23:43:00.005-04:00

It can be so very tempting to look at a rainbow at see a sign in the sky. It's part of our makeup.
Of course, the scientific among us will see refraction and angles and say it's merely pish-tosh that such a natural phenomenon would be "a sign."
But if it were ... wow. I came back from a city meeting tonight to see a horizon-to-horizon, stunning, perfect rainbow, perfectly centered over the Morning Sun's plant.
It's been tough there. Over the past 12 years, the paper has weathered the bankruptcy of two different parent corporations. We've seen layoffs. We've seen cutbacks and freezes, but through it all, we've done good journalism and served our communities.
Now, we've got new leadership at the top of the corporation, people who seem to have vision, who aren't afraid to try things.
And there's a sense of optimism inside.
Perhaps it really is a sign.

A sharp, painful contrast

2010-07-11T23:39:00.003-04:00

The contrast could not have been more profound.
Today was Robert's final performance at Blue Lake. He was second clarinet in the wind ensemble, the top band at the camp, and we went over to see the concert and pick him up.
Meanwhile, back in the real world, a Mt. Pleasant family was dealing with an unspeakable tragedy. TheMorningSun.com's Patricia Ecker had confirmed the identity of a young woman killed Friday night or Saturday, and the identity of the suspect - her older brother, who had just gotten out of prison.
Patricia called me and I would act as a rewrite man, putting the story on the Web.
I pulled out my Mac and aircard, and set up shop under a rehearsal pavilion at the fine arts camp. I pulled the suspect's prison mug shot and record from the Michigan Department of Corrections website and put the story together.
I was in the woods. Nothing but trees and beauty surrounded me. The wonderful sound of the camp's symphonic band, whose concert preceded the wind ensemble's, drifted the few hundred yards from the band shell, mixing with the sounds of birds and chipmunks.
All around me was wonder and beauty. On my screen was horror and tragedy. I was almost overwhelmed by the stark, brutal contrast.
At Blue Lake, these young people were growing up with art and music, surrounded by talent and achievement.
Back home, something had gone terribly, awfully wrong.
I posted the story, went to the wind ensemble concert, and turned off my phone. For an hour, at least, I wanted to enjoy my family's talent and achievement, but I remain haunted by the contrast.

How to post to the blog

2010-06-01T14:22:00.001-04:00

Type you content here

Early morning Survival Flight

2010-06-01T07:31:00.004-04:00

Early Memorial Day morning, I heard the clatter of a helicopter over the house.
This isn't unusual - we live just a little more than a mile from Central Michigan Community Hospital and helicopter ambulances fly in and out of the hospital on a regular basis.
The early-morning flight, however, was unusual, and I didn't immediately recognize the markings on this air ambulance.
I know St. Mary's FlightCare, Covenant LifeNet and Spectrum Aero Med, but I couldn't place this one. I finished loading TheMorningSun.com's Memorial Day edition, then drove over to take a look.
It turned out to be a University of Michigan Survival Flight helicopter, done in maize and blue (talk about branding), and it didn't spend a lot of time on the ground.
I don't know anything about the patient who was being transferred to Ann Arbor at dawn on a holiday or why they were being sent there. I do know that helicopter flights aren't taken lightly.
I've had the opportunity to ride a helicopter ambulance twice: once as an observer (I love my job), and once as a patient. I'm pretty sure that flight 12 years ago saved, if not my life, my ability to function.
But a helicopter ride in a fully staffed air ambulance isn't cheap. It's tough to get an average price for a helicopter ambulance flight, but I've seen cost estimates anywhere from $3,000 to $25,000. A 2007 British study put the average cost at ₤6,000, or about $8,700.
No one - no one - faced with the potential loss of a loved one's life does this calculation: "Well, that helicopter will cost $9,000, plus the cost of the hospital stay ... We can get a nice funeral done for about $6,000 ... Let's just keep Mom here and not tell her."
A generation ago, there might not have been any other option but to start picking out Mom's casket. Options are better now.
The question is how it's paid for.

Behind the scenes on "The Daily"

2010-05-31T13:35:00.004-04:00

TheMorningSun.com's daily Webcast, "The Daily," went on location to downtown Mt. Pleasant for Memorial Day. Sue Field and I were at Jimmy John's before the Memorial Day parade.

Last day of high school

2010-05-28T23:39:00.003-04:00

I'm not sure exactly how I feel about this - today was Katherine's last day of high school.
Seniors, of course, get out before the rest of the student body, and graduation is set for next weekend. Classes are over.
She's still taking her college class - she's got one more week of JRN 202 at Central.
Graduation, orientation, imagination ... a lot on her mind.
And she's at the Wheatland Traditional Arts Festival tonight with That One Kid.
Life is so about to change.

From another world

2010-03-08T15:55:00.000-05:00

A truly awesome Web video from Boston.com.

Beautiful Saturday

2010-03-06T14:47:00.002-05:00

The temperature is in the mid-40s.
I'm looking at a pile of snow at least 4 feet high.
Yet my neighbor is wearing shorts, and people are exclaiming about how warm and wonderful the weather is.
. . . I think we've lived in Michigan far too long.

On being stupid

2010-03-02T10:57:00.001-05:00

Ever notice that the only people who ever say, "I am so stupid" are usually really bright people who had a lapse in judgment? The truly stupid never even realize it.

SFMAWG seeks SwC

2010-02-14T08:17:00.005-05:00

Short, Fat, Middle-Aged White Guy seeks Spinster with Cat.
A few weeks ago, I was sitting in a weekend newspaper planning session when I noted that an upcoming Sunday newspaper would come out on Valentine's Day.
"We should do something," I said.
"How about online dating?" someone chimed in, and everyone looked at me. They knew I'd met Kissy Missy online.
"A first-person story!" the editor said. They'd all heard the story, and now, I'd get a chance to tell it to the whole world.
It also seemed like a good opportunity for a video - and it was.
Apparently, this adventure was too good to keep. On Wednesday, Central Michigan Life, the student paper at CMU, did its own version of our story as its Campus Vibe front.
When you've got a great story, people want to tell it.
Happy Valentine's Day, Sweetheart.

City deer

2010-01-04T22:39:00.003-05:00

Well, they're certainly here.
These deer aren't dumb. I was traveling along West Campus Drive this afternoon, and I spotted this little feller calmly nibbling at what was under the snow.
It's perfect habitat for adaptable critters. There's plenty of food - evergreens, shrubs, ornamental fruit trees, even a few oaks. There's lots of cover - this guy and at least one other were well-concealed most of the time in the brush along the Great Lakes Central Railroad tracks that run through campus.
The Chippewa River is just a few blocks away. Traffic isn't particularly heavy, except when classes change.
And no one's out to hunt them.
It's deer Eden.

The Christmas of the Antique Apple

2009-12-25T16:28:00.004-05:00

It was an old-fashioned Christmas, with old-fashioned applie pie, and this year, it even featured old-fashioned apples.
Here's the story: A number of years ago - I'm trying to picture the kitchen where I first tried the recipe, and it's not coming to me - I ran across the basic recipe for Dad's Extreme Apple Pie. That wasn't what it was called, of course, but that's how it's known today.
Extreme? A single pie requires five pounds of apples.
When I was growing up, Mom made apple pies fairly often. She always looked for a particular type of apple - the Northern Spy. Even 40 years ago, they were hard to find, and today, they're extremely hard to locate in grocery stores.
They don't sell well in 21st century superstore produce departments, where the visual presentation is paramount. Frankly, they're not pretty. They look like beat-up old farm apples. And they don't travel well.
But this antique breed of apple is fabulous for pies, with firm flesh, and just the right mix of sweet and tart.
And on Christmas Eve, like a Christmas present, there they were - one 10-pound bag - in the produce section at Meijer. Kissy Missy snapped them up.

And the perfect version of Dad's Extreme Apple Pie was made on Christmas Day 2009.

For the second time in a month, the whole gang was here. Matthew slid up from Grand Rapids - literally. Andrew's back from Tech, settling in for a new adventure. Miranda was here. Katherine, and Robert and Jamie, and Kissy Missy and I all shared the kind of Christmas I'd always envied other people having. What we had: "Miracle on 34th Street" on the babble box, and on the table, pot roast, mashed potatoes, corn, carrots, asparagus (from Peru - ya gotta love the 21st century), with Dad's Extreme Apple Pie, a Sarah Lee sweet potato pie and Sleeping Bear made-in-Michigan ice cream for dessert.
And gifts, given from the heart.
What we didn't have: Relatives who sit with silent disapproval, adults playing adolescent mind games, and underwear for Christmas.

Eighteen

2009-12-19T21:07:00.004-05:00

She's 18.

Friday was Katherine's 18th birthday. I keep calling her my "mature, responsible adult daughter." She doesn't know that I (mostly) really mean it.

I always joked that she was the one who was born with a champagne glass in one hand, cigarette in the other, wanting to know who was in charge, baby. Actually, she objects to both ideas, but she still has the attitude she was born with. She is, after all, a ginger.

Sometimes she's an airhead. Sometimes she's a blonde. But along the way she found a fierce dedication to doing things right, and working hard enough to make them happen.

I greeted her on her birthday morning with Alice Cooper's "Eighteen" at a tooth-rattling volume. She just shook her head. Her friends gave her, among other things, "Pride, Prejudice and Zombies." If you have to ask, you won't get it.
After school, I took her to register to vote. Then she went, for the first time, to the casino. Go there on your 18th birthday and the Soaring Eagle will give you $30 on a Players Club card.
She played, and came home with a pocket full of cash.
She says she'll put it in the bank. My mature, responsible, adult daughter.
(Photos by Lisa Yanick-Jonaitis)

Really. Dad's working.

2009-12-05T00:02:00.003-05:00

So, Dad's been spending lots of time at Ford Field recently.
Beal City won the Division 8 state football championship.
Clare made it to the finals.
Central Michigan won the Mid-American Conference championship.
Dad was there with a video camera.
It's not ESPN, but it's great for TheMorningSun.com.

Katherine does her homework

2009-12-02T20:23:00.002-05:00

Yes, I know I'm old. When I was a senior in high school, the most sophisticated equipment I got to use for school was a manual Royal typewriter, a Headliner and a Compugraphic. And my dad's 1948-model Kodak 35RF.
The idea of producing homework on video? You mean like TeeVee?

Happy Bird Day

2009-11-26T10:48:00.005-05:00

I found this posted on the comments section of TheMorningSun.com from Obamanation, one of our regular contributors. With a little editing, I thought it was worth passing along:

During the darkest hours of the Civil War, Abe Lincoln decide to create a holiday, a propaganda holiday, to force a broken nation to overlook its troubles and be thankful for the good times of a Civil War.
Like freeing the slaves, Lincoln couldn’t have cared less, but when the Northerners started to have second thoughts about Lincoln, the war and life in general, one needs diversions.
Freeing the slaves and creating Thanksgiving were just a couple of his best-known tricks. Declaring people free means nothing if they are still treated like slaves, and what kind of nation celebrates a civil war anyway?
Today’s Thanksgiving is a bizarre ritual comprising corny presidential turkey pardons, lame parade coverage, a turkey dinner at noon, badly played football, travel problems, Christmas advertising, and some weird unwritten law that says you can’t talk about anything but what you are thankful for.
There are four kinds of ways people express their thanks on Thanksgiving.
• The Traditional – Friends, family and health. Simple, sweet, and to the point without grandstanding.
• The Modern – A laundry list of things they have. More of a bragging contest than true thanks. Just another way of some jerkball to rub it into others that they are doing better/are better than the next guy.
• The Sarcastic – A loophole in the Thanksgiving pact that allows smart donkeys a way to truly express their bitterness and spite.
• The Innocent – Ask a little kid what they are thankful for and they might reply “cats and monsters.” [Mark’s note: One of the kids once said he was thankful for boogers.]
After careful deliberation I have decided this Thanksgiving I am very thankful that the guy in Elm Hall will be open and selling pizza on Thanksgiving, and that my wife is hot, because after eating dinner at noon, watching the Lions lose, while pretending civil war, and Christmas is not just around the corner, I just might want something that is truly great.

Thanksgiving 2009

2009-11-22T23:18:00.003-05:00

Thanksgiving was on Sunday this year - it was the only day that fit into everyone's schedules - but we got everyone together and we gave thanks. The family was there, the table was full, and the Lions had even won a football game. It was, indeed, Thanksgiving.

And it was us. Matthew said something, well, politically incorrect.

Andrew expounds on cynical libertarianism, and defines politically incorrect just by being there.

Miranda's getting used to this.

But Jamie, well, Jamie still harbors an element of disbelief about this bunch.

The food was good and the laughter was hearty. We once were wished the gift of laughter, and it was here in full force this year. It's family. It's Thanksgiving, and we have so much to give thanks for.

The first half is the warmup act for the band

2009-11-16T10:40:00.003-05:00

NPR reporter Tom Goldman nails it.
And yes, marching band is crazy difficult.

If only this were real ...

2009-11-14T07:30:00.001-05:00

I ran across this while looking for something else. It's priceless.

The Finals - Again!

2009-11-01T22:30:00.002-05:00

For the fourth year in a row, the Oiler band has made it to the Michigan Competing Band Association state finals.
This year, the band made it by the skin of their feathered caps - but they made it.
Mt. Pleasant scored a 70.3 at the Durand Invitational at Durand Saturday. That score was enough to qualify them in 10th place for the finals - by about two-thirds of a point.
It's been a challenging year for the Oiler band. It's by far the youngest band Mt. Pleasant has fielded in years, with about one-third of the band being first-year players.
Flu racked the band a couple of weeks ago - at one practice, a good third of the band was out sick. And the weather for practices and performances has been the worst I've seen in four years.
But they made it.
The show is awesome, and it deserves to be performed on the big stage. The break from "Glycerin" back into "Don't Stop Believin'" near the end of the show always brings a tear to my eye - and the close is heart-stoppingly beautiful.
Show time for the Flight III competition at Ford Field Saturday is 10:05 a.m.

Last week of the season

2009-10-30T12:21:00.005-04:00

It all comes down to Durand on Saturday. The Oiler Marching Band has improved continuously this season, but they're young, and the show is very challenging. Still, entering the final week of competition, Mt. Pleasant is in eighth place in Flight III.

The top 10 bands head to Ford Field next weekend for the state finals. The competition this year has been as intense as I can ever remember it.

The guard's looking great this year.

Highly talented seniors like Haruki have provided the inspiration for the more than 30 first-year marchers.

And last weekend at West Bloomfield, Mt. Pleasant collected a 17.9 on its music ensemble score - a remarkably high score. Overall, the Oilers broke 70 at West Bloomfield.

For Katherine, the senior, this weekend and the shot at one more trip to Ford Field means a lot. She'll be pouring her heart and soul into it.

We've been trying to do our part, too, to support the band. Before home games, Kissy Missy and I have been selling Oiler seat cushions. Above, she turns to the flag as Robert conducts the National Athem before the Arthur Hill game.

There will be seven Flight III bands at Durand, and Linden, Trenton and Mt. Pleasant have to be considered the favorites.

It's all about the music, the marching, the effect. Don't stop believing.

Novi

2009-09-27T21:47:00.012-04:00

The Oiler band, after a rough Friday night that included the Midland High football team running onto the field during the show, took the field at Novi Saturday - and earned a first-competition score nine points higher than last year's first time out.

The cerebral "Pachelbel's Journey" impressed the judges enough to award a 63.45.

Katherine and Robert await the judge's word after the show at Novi. The verdict: First place, , best music, best marching, best overall effect.

The mayor of Novi, right, prepares to hand the plaque to the Oiler command team as the host Novi command team salutes them.

But the Oiler band can't rest on its laurels. There was another competition Saturday, and in Flight III, Ferndale scored an incredible 73.05 - in September! Farmington Harrison checked in at 67.55, Redford Thurston at 66.8, and Trenton at 66.25. After the weekend, the Oilers are in fifth place statewide in Flight III.
And we have yet to hear from defending champion Stevensville Lakeshore, runnerup Grand Rapids Northview, or last year's other finalists, Byron Center or Linden. The two other 2008 Flight III finalists, Marysville and Allegan, are in Flight IV this year.
Thurston is on the schedule for a head-to-head competition Saturday at the Michigan Invitational Tournament in Flint, while Flight III bands Fruitport, South Lyon and Hazel Park take their shows to Livonia Franklin.
Either the judges are getting soft - which isn't likely - or there are going to be some intense, tight, stunning competitions on the way to Ford Field for the finals.

The band gears up

2009-09-26T11:23:00.003-04:00

The young Oiler band's ambitious show hits the road today at the Novi Fanfare.
It's still early in the season - Novi is a place to work out the rough spots, see what the judges think, and start making adjustments.
The Friday night halftime show was a little rough, but they'll get there.

Mt. Pleasant's Mardi Gras

2009-09-19T10:59:00.003-04:00

Mardi Gras in September? Of course. Even though it's on Friday.
It's a downtown Mt. Pleasant promotion - and it keeps getting bigger every year.
I don't think I've ever seen as many people downtown as I did Friday night, and the parade - well, it would do justice to a lot of much larger communities.
I was impressed not just with the size of the crowd, but the diversity of the people downtown.
And it was so, so cool to see the everyone - Katherine and Robert with the Oiler Marching Band (you see them in the video) - and Kissy Missy handing out Applefest fliers for the the Zonta Club. (She didn't make the video - not her fault nor mine.)
Not a bad celebration for our little town. Not bad at all.

I've had students like this ...

2009-09-07T13:13:00.001-04:00

School's back in session.

40 years, and rock and roll hasn't died

2009-08-16T23:03:00.006-04:00

“Mom, can I go to Woodstock? I can hitchhike.”
I said that to her in August 1969.
“No.”
“Three days of peace and music, Mom.”
“No!”
“It’s only 600 miles away.”
“NO!”
Of course, I was only 13 at the time, but what I saw on the news, heard on the radio, made it clear that there was something special going on in the rain. I wanted to be part of it.
I’d wanted to be part of what was happening for a long time. I was a protected Catholic schoolboy, but I paid attention. I had watched the ’60s begin when John Kennedy was killed. I was a fourth-grader when I put a National Geographic map of Vietnam on my bedroom wall. When Mom objected, I told her I’d take it down when the war was over. I had no idea I’d return from college to do that.
Haight-Ashbury, marijuana, acid, the 1968 Democratic Convention, rock and roll, hair, underground newspapers, the East Village, Abraham, Martin and John – and Bobby, gold star mothers, Peter Max … I felt as if I was missing it.
My parents were aghast, horrified, their world falling apart. My father and my uncle had had their guns loaded and ready since Detroit burned the summer before. And half a million drug-addled kids descended on some farm in New York, and their son, my parents' only surviving child, thought it was beautiful.
Adolescents rebel, but this was different, more intense, more political. The world was changing, and rock and roll was the agent. That fall, I would go to a public school for the first time in my life, surrounded by girls in miniskirts. By the time I graduated, I would work for an underground newspaper, discover my life’s work with the school paper, listen to Led Zeppelin and the Doors and the Who and Pink Floyd, the MC5, Dick Wagner before and after he joined Alice Cooper, Bob Seger and Jefferson Airplane. Underground music made its way to the airwaves, I’d smoke weed with a cop’s kid and wonder when the revolution would arrive.
It was a battle, yes, a battle against all that was old and unenlightened and outmoded, a battle for the future.
As a child, every adult I knew was sad, duty-bound, stressed, angry, bound by invisible chains of their own making. Thus it had been for generations. Like every generation before us, we wanted no part of that, but finally, there were enough of us to make it happen.
We would be different. Tomorrow would be different. We were, and it was. We couldn’t imagine how different the next 40 years would be.
The culture did, indeed shift, in ways big and small. No metropolitan area has been incinerated in anger since my parents’ generation. But I really noticed it the first time I heard Steely Dan played as elevator music. I couldn’t help but think, “Damn. We won.”
We’ve all had our tragedies. One of my best friends from grade school came out of the closet, went to New York, and died in the first AIDS epidemic. We’ve all seen too much of the dark side, but it’s given us wisdom. There’s still a lot wrong, but there’s so much that is right.
And we’ve given rock and roll to the generations.
My kid’s high school band has performed tightly disciplined shows with music from “Hair,” Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd and Queen – and won. There’s a Beatles song in this year’s show. A Pew Research poll recently found the Beatles were the favorite group of every generation since they played. I didn’t object when Cadillac used Zeppelin’s “Rock and Roll” to sell luxury cars. It was luxury for us, and we’d won.
We’ve grown fat and comfortable, cut our hair long ago, and worked just as hard as, maybe harder than, our parents. We turned capitalist and reaped the benefits. Our children are grown or nearly so, and many of us look like our parents and grandparents. But we aren’t them.
I’ve spent the weekend reveling in the music and the memories. “Baby boomers love their nostalgia,” it is said, and it’s true. But it’s still now. A lot of the music was delivered via satellite on an XM-Sirius channel that's Katherine's favorite. I’ve been listening to Buffalo Springfield, Seger, Mitch Ryder, the Dead, Zeppelin and Airplane on Internet radio as I write this.
We embraced the future and it is still ours. Rock and roll.

Diabetes

2009-08-12T08:54:00.003-04:00

If I’m going to have a chronic, progressive and potentially fatal illness, it might as well be something that’s reasonably well understood, treatable and might even lead me to behave myself.
Welcome to diabetes.
I’m 53 years old and I haven’t behaved myself. I love to cook, and even more, I love to eat. I’ve never understood the people who say they get pleasure from exercise – they always look as if they’re in pain. I’ve lived in the mind, not the body.
Diabetes always was a possibility, I knew. My mother was diabetic. My grandfather was diabetic. I inherited what my mother called a “German goiter” – the characteristic, if unpleasing, manifestation of what the medical-pharmaceutical complex now calls “metabolic syndrome.” That means I’ve got a fat gut, and it’s a sign of all kinds of bad things.
I ignored it all, until it started messing with what I wanted to do. I was hungry and tired all the time, thirsty, cranky, and always having to pee. I was having trouble focusing. Living in the mind is tough when the mind doesn’t work like it used to. Achieving moral victories over my inner underachiever is tough when I fall asleep on the couch like a grumpy old man.
It took a little while to figure out what the problem was. Along the way, the docs figured out my thyroid was a little off-kilter, but fixing that didn’t fix the whole problem.
Nope – it turned out to be classic, all-American, he-got-fat type 2 diabetes. But if I’m going to have this disease, it’s not a bad time to have it.
I’ve been put on something called Byetta – brand name from Amylyn/Lilly for a drug with the generic name exanatide. This is essentially a synthetic version of a hormone first isolated – and I can’t make this up – in the saliva of Gila monsters. (Who collected that? And why?) In other words, lizard spit.
As I understand it, my normal hormones don’t stimulate the Isles of Langerhans (say that in a stentorian voice) in my pancreas enough to produce sufficient insulin. The lizard spit does. I inject Byetta twice a day, just before meals.
It’s an under-the-skin injection in the abdomen. Yep, I give myself shots in the belly. The discomfort level is minimal – about a tenth of squeezing a pimple. I have a pen that gives me a tiny, premeasured dose. It’s a no-brainer.
And it works. I’ve been getting blood glucose levels that would be considered outstanding if measured in a non-diabetic. My energy level is where it was years ago, and I’m accomplishing so much more than I was six months ago.
The down side: I have to learn a whole new way to cook and eat. White bread, rice, most pasta and lasagna are out of here. Potatoes in almost any form are deadly. Fresh fruits, fresh vegetables (sweet corn in extreme moderation) and lots of protein are on the menu – like permanently.
It sounds so healthy and happy! It's a chance to make aggressive changes in my lifestyle to live longer and live better in my Golden Years!
Meh.
I have to keep reminding myself of two things that I learned from very wise people many years go:
• The key to a long life is to develop a chronic disease and manage it well.
• Nothing changes – and this includes business, politics, love and lifestyle – until the pain of changing is perceived to be less than the pain of not changing.
I’ll admit – at the onset, I’ve still got a severe case of the “I don’ wanna’s.” But I gotta.
I won’t deny that I miss McDonald’s French fries and sunshine rice – my own recipe for rice cooked in chicken broth flavored with turmeric and a touch of paprika. But they’ll make me miserable, and I’m enough of a selfish SOB that I don’t like being miserable. And the people I love hate it when I whine.
I’ll do it. I have to. I know there’ll be a payoff down the line, but going on the journey there is tough to embrace and cherish right now. But I’ll go.
Is “kicking and screaming” considered aerobic exercise?

Because I knew you: Remembering Matt Boles

2009-07-31T16:06:00.004-04:00

They buried Matt Boles today.

Matt was 18, a year older than Katherine, a year younger than Andrew, and someone whom the family has known for at least 10 years.

Even as an 8- or 9-year-old, this boy was “The Matt Boles.”

The connection comes through Scouting. Back in those days, I was a Scoutmaster, and I got drafted to join the staff of a series of Cub Scout weekend camps. Those are fun, and that’s where I met the Boles family, even before moving to Mt. Pleasant.

Val Boles, Matt’s mother, also was a staffer.For the next five years or so, I’d run the shooting range and Val would run the archery range about five times a summer at Camp Rotary and Paul Bunyan Scout Reservation. Our kids were part of what was called “Half Staff.”

The Half Staff did a lot of things – including being part of the Saturday night lakeshore campfires. These were amazing events, and a big reason was the way this charismatic kid could dominate the scene.

It seemed inborn. He had no fear of performance, and he was willing to do the most audacious things. Matt looked good in a dress – and that was guaranteed to bring down the house.

He loved it.

Matt didn’t appear to be afraid of anything. Fear usually is what holds people back, but that wasn’t part of his makeup. The stories at his wake Thursday night reminded me a lot of the way Tom Wolfe described test pilots in “The Right Stuff,” but applied to the arts and business.

I’ve been to larger funeral gatherings for young people, but only for soldiers and Marines killed in action. Many of the people who turn out for those events are there to honor their country more than honor the decedent. These people turned out for Matt Thursday night and Friday.

All three big rooms at Clark Funeral Chapel in Mt. Pleasant were filled to capacity. The Clarks ran out of chairs, and people sat on the floor. Friends that Matt had known at Mt. Pleasant High School, Blue Lake Fine Arts Camp and through Scouting told stories.

Matt could be arrogant, but it always was softened with humor. He could be persistent, but it was always gentle. Mostly, he was audacious and didn’t let himself get in his way.

The story was told about how he put together a group of kids who, late one night, knocked on a favorite teacher’s door unannounced and declared they would be camping in her back yard. She let them. Matt cooked pancakes in the morning.

Another story came out about how Matt had planned for weeks to surprise and “kidnap” a friend on her 17th birthday. He had it planned down to the last detail – except for the state trooper who wanted to know why he was carrying off a blindfolded teenage girl.

Matt often would call a girl and say “I’ll be there in 10 minutes. You have to come with me. Look cute.” Somehow, the girls said yes and their dads gave their blessing, at least most of the time.

People who are effective at getting things done often bend the rules, and Matt sometimes twisted them into knots. But he did it with such charm and effectiveness that few people were offended.

He was effective – that’s how he helped keep Mt. Pleasant High’s 2009 graduation in Rose Arena, despite a lack of school funding. That’s how he was named to the staff at the Scouts’ National Youth Leadership Training program. That’s how he convinced Mt. Pleasant High to present “Cannibal, the Musical” – “All Singing! All Dancing! All Flesh Eating!”

His goal had been to head to law school. After all, if you’re going to bend the rules, you need to know the rules.

But something freaky, bad and still unexplained stopped him in the middle of Hall’s Lake last weekend. He was following the rules – a boat was trailing him as he swam, the people got him out of the water when he got into trouble and got help fast.

It wasn’t enough.

So many people’s lives really start when they head to college, shed their childish fears, claim their dreams and remake themselves. Matt’s had already begun.

The tears flowed when the song “For Good” from “Wicked” was played:

“So much of me

Is made of what I learned from you

You'll be with me

Like a handprint on my heart

And now whatever way our stories end

I know you have re-written mine

By being my friend...

"Who can say if I've been changed for the better?

But because I knew you

Because I knew you

I have been changed for good."

“I’m sure Matt’s looking down at us,” one speaker said, “and laughing. Ha-ha! Made you cry!”

Katherine, the Drummer and Tahquamenon

2009-07-08T23:44:00.005-04:00

On our way to Paradise, we stopped at Tahquamenon Falls. After a stop at the Upper Falls - always very impressive - we headed to the Lower Falls. Katherine and the Drummer kind of drifted ahead of the rest of us.

They couldn't stay out of the river.

The ledge above the falls is a perfect spot.

The sound of the water ...

Your friend nearby ...

... just to be together in a beautiful place.

Together ....
Even if they were with HER PARENTS!!!!

A U.P. Fourth

2009-07-07T22:29:00.006-04:00

One thing that mid-Michigan doesn't have that da Eastern U.P. does is the truly off-the-wall Fourth of July parade. Every parade has the fire trucks - but how often do the volunteer firefighters get to douse the crowd as they go by?

These guys gets serious about it, ya know, eh?

Ya gotta be ready if you're gonna be standing along Newberry Avenue in Newberry.

At least these guys didn't take part in da tradition. Business is good, eh?

It wasn't just the firefighters and the honey dumpers. Nope, the Newberry High School Marching (Riding on a trailer?) band played at both the Newberry and Curtis parades.

There was a definite sense that it was the time to get dressed up and let loose, eh? After all, you let the Franklin stove finally go out on the Fourth of July, so let's celebrate!

It won't hurt us to go to Curtis! Young families make the scene!

Still can't figure out if the car's done in rust or camo. Doesn't matter - same effect, eh? Add the snowplow and the roadkill, and you get a true expression of da culture youse don't get nowhere else, eh?

Another day in Paradise

2009-07-06T21:17:00.008-04:00

After Kissy Missy and I went to Hell, we just simply had to go to Paradise.

Paradise is on the shores of Whitefish Bay, part of Lake Superior, in the eastern Upper Peninsula. Whitefish Township School is located there, as are Catholic, Lutheran, Episcopal and Methodist churches. In the winter, Paradise regularly gets more than 20 feet of snow, so it truly is a paradise for snowmobilers. Robert, Katherine, the Drummer, Kissy Missy and I noted something truly interesting: There are biker bars in both Hell and Paradise.
In Paradise, the biker bar is the Yukon. The snow caved in the roof of this log cabin a few years back, but a new roof has been raised above the log walls. There's a grate on the floor where snowmobilers can knock the snow off their boots. Behind the bar, there are Christmas lights - made of illuminated shotgun shells. The men's room contains graffiti dating back to at least 1977. There are boards missing from the floor of the hallway leading to the lady's room.
And when NASCAR came on the tube, every TV in the place was tuned to it.

We went to Paradise on the Fourth of July, and the community put on a completely awesome fireworks show. It lasted about a half-hour, launched from a pair of barges out in the bay. It was one of the best shows that I've seen in a long time, as you can see in the composite image.
But it got chilly next to the big lake - right after sunset, we could see our breath.
Makes sense that Paradise would be a lot cooler than Hell.

Father's Day

2009-06-21T10:47:00.003-04:00

It's Father's Day, and it's the first day of summer.
It's still real quiet here. All the kids are here, and that's something unusual. It's something I really, really appreciate. But they're sleeping in. They appreciate it, and I appreciate the quiet time, too.
I was blessed with four children. I always wonder about the impact I've had on them - mostly, it's been a case of just getting out of their way and not holding them back. I've occasionally tossed some challenges their way, but mostly they've challenged themselves. My job appears to have been to write the checks and pick them up, dust them off and not even let them think about giving up.
There have been plenty of failures along the way, of course. I hope I've taught them not to focus on them. After all, the story says Thomas Edison failed 6,000 times before he got the first light bulb right - and it only improved from there.
They're all different from each other, and all different from me.
I can't take credit for how they're turning out: Matthew, the car geek who's in the parts business, Andrew, the ski bum in engineering school, Katherine, the singer who's made it to Carnegie Hall - and who will master the art of spinning a rifle in guard - and Robert, the spelling champion and drum major who just looks so natural in a tux.
This is about you guys.
I sat down at my computer this morning to put up the Web site this morning, and discovered this from Andrew:
Happy Father's Day!

Thank you for being here for me when I need it.
Thank you for teaching me right from wrong.
Thank you for helping me through the roughest times.
Thank you for pushing me to greatness in my best times.
Thank you for changing my diapers when I was a baby.
Thank you for giving me money when I need it.
Thank you for cuddling me when I was a child.
Thank you for all the hugs.
Thank you for taking care of my wounds.
Thank you for being an inspiration of what a good father should be like.
Thank you for accepting me for who I choose to be.
Thank you for a truly warped sense of humor.
Thank you for teaching me how to write properly.
Thank you for teaching me puns and word-play.
Thank you for letting me be a rebel when I needed to be.
Thank you for letting me make my own mistakes.
Thank you for letting me learn from your mistakes.
Thank you for being honest with me.
Thank you for all of your respect.

Thank you for being a truly fantastic father.

I love you
-Andrew

I felt the tears well up. Thanks, guys, for being my kids.

- Dad

Visiting Hell

2009-06-16T09:53:00.003-04:00

The ZIP code in Hell is 48169.
Ever since I was a kid, I've thought it was hilarious that a little town in Michigan is named Hell.
When I was a Scoutmaster, I thought about organizing a 50-mile hike with a route that would start in the little Livingston County village, then wind through much of the nearby Waterloo-Pinckney Recreation Area. It probably would have been a great hike, and what other unit could have worn patches celebrating "The 50-mile Hike from Hell?"
Unfortunately, that didn't happen. I'd never been to Hell, until now.
Kissy Missy and I were returning from the Undisclosed Location, and decided to make a detour. This led to all kinds of cheap jokes, including "We went through Hell to get home!"
Hell has three businesses - the general store, the ice cream store and the bar. Interestingly, there were lots of bikers in Hell. All the businesses sell souvenirs, and yes, I bought some.
Later this year, we plan to visit Paradise. And Ishpeming. Ishpeming means "heaven" in Anishinabemowin. We'll bring back souvenirs, too.

Just in from an undisclosed location ....

2009-06-13T15:01:00.004-04:00

A source close to the family would neither confirm nor deny that the image above is an image of the undisclosed location where Kissy Missy may or may not have undergone what might or might not have been a significant medical procedure.
The source, who asked not to be identified because the source was not authorized to speak for the family, indicated that Kissy Missy may have returned to the undisclosed location for unspecified followup care for the unconfirmed previous medical procedure.
The source indicated the results are stunning.

The water tower

2009-06-05T16:27:00.004-04:00

I recently had the opportunity to visit downtown Ypsilanti. As I turned onto Cross Street from Depot Town, my attention was drawn to the, uh, rather distinctive structure pictured at left: the Ypsilanti Water Tower.
It was erected - excuse me - 1890 as part of the city's first water system. It served the city as its only water tower up until the middle of the last century. It is no longer in regular service.
The water tower is listed as an American Water Landmark by the American Water Works Association; a historic Civil Engineering Landmark by the Michigan Section of the American Society of Civil Engineers, and is listed on the National Register of Historic Places.
The old Ann Arbor News, in 2007, quoted Ypsilanti's mayor, Paul Schreiber, as saying, "The water tower has a historic marker. And it's a very interesting thing if you look at the stonework."
The Joliet limestone stonework is, indeed, very interesting. I read the historic marker placed next to the structure. Neither of those things were what drew me to visit the site.
What were they thinking????

Second graders at the paper

2009-06-03T22:02:00.003-04:00

It's never too early to become media literate - and a group of second-graders from Mt. Pleasant's Vowles Elementary School got to see first-hand how their local newspaper is put together.
The group toured the Morning Sun, and staffers Tony Sapienza, Nancy Shackelford and I got to be their tour guides.
We showed them how ads come together, told them how news gets to be news, and how it all gets onto paper.

The presses weren't running, so we could stop and take a good look at the remarkable, precision machinery that puts ink on paper.

I pointed out how we can print in color, and how the web-fed offset press works.

And how, after everything's printed, folded and cut, it comes out at the end of the line, ready for inserts, packaging and distribution. I'v been around it for years, but I'm still amazed at what happens to produce The Daily Miracle.

Tomorrow's American Manager!

2009-05-31T18:58:00.004-04:00

The townhouse abuts a city park, and a softball diamond is right outside the patio door. It's sort of like living in Wrigleyville - free entertainment on summer evenings.
This afternoon, a couple of dads had taken their boys for a pickup game. These are fun to watch.
I was watching the game when the batter, who looked like he was about 10, hit a chopper up the middle. The shortstop, who looked about 9, just kinda stood there as the ball bounced to the outfield. The batter beat out a standup double.
"It wasn't my fault! I wasn't ready!" said the shortstop. "You shouldn't have pitched 'til I was ready! It wasn't my fault!"
I think that boy has a bright future ahead of him as a manager of an old technology business. Sign that boy up for his golden parachute right now!

The leader of the band

2009-05-28T13:21:00.003-04:00

Word came this morning - Robert has been named one of the drum majors for this fall's edition of the Mount Pleasant High School Marching Band.
It will be Robert's fourth year with the marching band. He joined in eighth grade for the "Elemental Led" Led Zeppelin show; his freshman year saw "Socially Numb," with the music of Pink Floyd; as a sophomore, the Oiler band scored its highest score in years, and earned a fourth-place finish with "The Show Must Go On," featuring the music of Queen.
This fall, the band shifts gears, planning a show based on Johann Pachelbel's "Canon in D Major" and derivative compositions.
Robert is the first junior in recent memory to be named a field commander of the Oiler Band.

Pepsi Throwback

2009-05-26T19:51:00.003-04:00

This was an interesting experience.
I stopped at Walgreen's tonight to pick up some things, and I noticed they still had Pepsi Throwback in the cooler. I apparently am part of the target market for this product, made with actual sugar, as opposed to high-fructose corn syrup. High fructose corn syrup recently has been linked to all kinds of issues, especially since someone noticed that when the stuff replaced real sugar in processed food, we all got fat.
But I just think this "new" product tastes better. Really. I can tell. So can Andrew.
"I can taste the cola," he said, "not just sludge."
Behind me at Walgreen's was a family of three females - it looked like Grandma, Mama and daughter. The little girl was about 6 or 7.
I reached for the Pepsi Throwback, and the little girl, right behind me, also reached for one.
"No, dear, that's one of the nasty ones," Mama said. Oh, my, I thought, a food freak. Next comes the lecture on phosphoric acid, the 37.5 mg of caffeine per 12-ounce serving, the obesity challenge.
"Here, why don't you get a Mountain Dew?"
Um ... I must be missing something

Memorial Day

2009-05-25T20:32:00.002-04:00

For the fourth straight Memorial Day, we headed downtown for the Oiler Marching Band and the Mt. Pleasant Memorial Day Parade.
Attendance was as good as previous years - and the band sounded terrific.

Spring concert bootleg

2009-05-22T11:14:00.005-04:00

Mt. Pleasant High School's Symphonic Band and Symphonic Wind Ensemble performed their spring concerts Thursday.
There were many highlights - this is a serious concert.
Robert's a member of the Symphonic Wind Ensemble.
The show ranged from Holst's early 20th century "Mars" from "The Planets" (designated as the Martian National Anthem in "Stranger in a Strange Land") to the familiar and challenging "Toccata and Fugue in D Minor," credited to Bach and arranged for wind instruments.
Listen to the performance - and bear in mind, this is a performance by small-town high school musicians.
I said "Wow."

The Planets
I. Mars
Gustav Holst (1874-1934)
Mt. Pleasant High School Wind Ensemble
May 21, 2009

O Magnum Mysterium
Marten Lauridsen (b. 1943)
arr. H. Robert Reynolds
Mt. Pleasant High School Wind Ensemble
May 21, 2009

Joy
Joseph Curiale (b. 1955)

Mt. Pleasant High School Wind Ensemble
May 21, 2009

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Children's March (Over the Hills and Far Away)
Percy Grainger (1882-1961)
Mt. Pleasant High School Wind Ensemble
May 21, 2009

Toccata and Fugue in D Minor
J.S. Bach (1685-1750)
Arr. Erik Leidzen
Mt. Pleasant High School Wind Ensemble
May 21, 2009

Home from college

2009-05-22T00:19:00.003-04:00

Andrew's home from college, his first year at Michigan Tech over.
He's judging it to be a success.
"Hey, I'm not on academic probation," he said.
Of course, none of us have seen much of him. As soon as he got back to town, he got his old job back and he's been working a lot. (It's amazing what knowing what you're doing, having a reputation for showing up for work, and providing good customer service will do for you, even during Depression 2.0.)
He's also been spending immense amounts of time with die Fraulein.
Between those two top priorities, it's been a case of just sort of being vaguely aware that there's another person in the house. I know there has to be, because food keeps disappearing.
Sigh.
But I think back to when I was his age, back home from my first year at Central. Everything had changed, and that's apparently the whole point of that exercise.
Hey, he's not on academic probation. Welcome home, Andrew.

How awkward!

2009-05-20T09:56:00.003-04:00

A month or so ago, I began doing quick-hit news updates for WCFX radio. The paper's had a long-standing deal with the radio station. Putting a newspaper voice on the air helps both media, by promoting the newspaper and spicing the the "Breakfast Flakes" morning show with yet another voice.
It's been pretty successful, but at least one of Katherine's friends is a little freaked out by it.
Imagine. You're a teenager, and all of a sudden, your friend's FATHER starts showing up on your favorite radio station.
"I heard your dad on the radio," she said. "It was a little awkward."
It just messes with the whole theater-of-the-mind thing, doesn't it?

MBA plus 1

2009-05-17T12:03:00.004-04:00

Blogger's note: Kissy Missy and I were having a quiet Sunday morning. I had just shot some portraits of the cats (look for them soon) when I noticed that it was one year ago she received her MBA from Northwood. How did I know this?
Because I'm a wonderful husband, and I remember.
Actually, I saw the images in the file with the date on them. Now, I would have sworn I had made a blog entry, but somehow, they're not there. I had images prepped, but ....
I am a bad, bad husband. I forgot. Fail!
Soooo .... belatedly, the world knows now! and

The family joins her as Kissy Missy officially becomes part of Northwood University's Class of 2008 and receives her master's degree.

With the graduate degree comes a cowl - to be worn to all formal academic events, such as commencements, henceforth.

Crossing the stage to receive the diploma.

Celebrating outside on a beautiful day in May.

And joining other members of her cohort to mark the end of the course of study - and the beginning of life with a graduate degree.

Meet Charles, our newest pet

2009-05-16T22:43:00.004-04:00

Meet Charles, the vacuum robot.
It seems that Mother's Day was all about cleaning. The family gave Kissy Missy a car detailing job, and she decided on her own to get a Roomba.
The machine actually does a terrific job, scooting across the bare floor of the kitchen and the carpeted floors in the rest of the house like a dream. It's pulled a completely amazing amount of cat hair out of the carpet.

Charles - named that by Katherine, by the way - operates on the same level, of course, as Minden and München. They were terrified of the regular vacuum cleaner, but they're extremely curious about Charles. Sometimes too curious, it seems.

Charles senses things mainly by bumping into them. If you don't want to be bumped into, move.
If he does bump into you, he'll just change direction and clean another section of floor. He's determined, very determined.

It's the 21st Century. We have a robot, and Kissy Missy says she feels like Jane Jetson, although Charles isn't as sophisticated as Rosie.
Although Rosie might have shooed Minden out of the way, too.
Ma! He's chasing me! Make him stop!

Giving blood, giving back

2009-05-12T18:37:00.005-04:00

Katherine gave blood for the first time today.

She's 17, old enough to donate, and took part in a blood drive at school.

She's valuable as a donor - with O+ blood, she's a "universal donor."

She was healthy - she's avoided the nasties that have hit her brother and me - and it will certainly bring good Karma.

Getting the flu

2009-05-06T20:34:00.002-04:00

I'm pretty sure the flu has invaded the household. Fevers greater than 100, coughing, intestinal upsets, headaches, bodyaches, don't-touch-me skin.
I haven't been to see a doctor. It seems like run-of-the-mill flu, and there's not a lot can be done about that. I don't think it will wipe us out.
But I hear that we're not supposed to call it "swine flu" anymore. The health establishment has started calling it by its scientific name, H1N1, and dropped the "swine" label.
Mustn't offend the pigs ...

Cannibal, the Musical

2009-05-03T09:56:00.005-04:00

The spring show at Mt. Pleasant High School was one of the most controversial, most over-the-top shows they've done in years.
"Cannibal! The Musical" was performed Friday and Saturday.
The story is that of Alferd Packer, the only American ever convicted of cannibalism, in Colorado in the early part of the 20th century.
The back story, according to the official Web site:
Originally a student of music, director Trey Parker (who later went on to fame and fortune as a creator of "South Park") transferred from the prestigious Berklee School of Music to Colorado University at Boulder to study film, and it was there he gave birth to his twisted brainchild "Alferd Packer: The Musical". Parker not only wrote, produced, directed and played the leading role in the film, he also wrote the songs and collaborated on the score.
The film began as a three-minute fake trailer made for an advanced film production class and, as a joke the director said he was going to make the actual film. "People kept asking 'Where's the movie?" says Parker "The response was so positive, we decided we'd do it"
Together with fellow students Matt Stone, Jason McHugh and Ian Hardin (average age 23) they formed the Avenging Conscience Inc production company and raised $75,000 from private investors, friends and family by the day they needed to start shooting. They employed fellow students as cast members and took parts in the film themselves each stepping into each others shoes behind the camera when necessary. From conception to being in the can the film took around twelve months.
When Troma picked up the film in 1996, they realized that few people outside of Colorado had ever heard of Alferd Packer, so they re-released it under the name, Cannibal! The Musical.

Mt. Pleasant High School senior Matt Boles pushed hard to put on a stage adaption of the film, and succeeded. The script had to be heavily edited and reworked to get rid of the obscenities.
The topic - "All Singing! All Dancing! All Flesh-Eating!" made it controversial, and other challenges raised a lot of skepticism.
But ultimately, the show was hilarious - for people with the right mind-set, of course.
Robert and La Madamoiselle were part of the five-piece pit band.
And Matt - the director, adapter and driving force behind the show - has been familiar to us since the days when he was part of the youth staff at Cub Scout camps 'way back around the turn of the century.
He's always been like this.

Prom 2009

2009-04-27T10:26:00.005-04:00

It was prom weekend in Mt. Pleasant, and both Katherine and Robert went to the event.
This is no mean feat, considering it's "senior" prom, and neither of them are seniors.
Katherine was escorted by the Drummer - no problem. He's a senior.

But Robert and La Madamoiselle both are sophomores. That took some finagling.
Two of their senior friends in the band, Aaron and Mariah, arranged to be their official escorts.
Photos, dinner, dancing, bowling and breakfast - but no one stayed up to see the sun come up.

26 Hours in New York: Reality

2009-04-25T23:35:00.007-04:00

More than 30 years ago, I dated a woman who once casually said, "Oh, whenever I go to New York, I lose touch with reality." I believed it then, and I believe it now. The reality of the city is hard to grasp. Even standing on the 102nd floor observation platform of the Empire State Building at midnight, with the awesomeness of New York spread out below, it's impossible to begin to grasp.

The place is a concentration of dreams. Both physicists and social scientists talk about "critical masses" necessary to make certain things happen. The sheer concentration of people - one of the densest concentrations on the planet - produces many critical masses.

It is a place of sheer contradictions. The streets are mean and tough, but the music is beautiful and the art is unrivaled. The most regulated, socialist city in the country is the heart of capitalism for the world. The most Democratic city has a Republican mayor. The most crowded city is the place where people can feel most alone.

And it works its magic. The choir could have sung anywhere - in Atlanta or Los Angeles or Detroit. The Temple Theater in Saginaw has about as many seats as Carnegie Hall. The sound in the Mt. Pleasant High School Auditorium is almost as good.
But none of those places strike the same spark in the soul as the words "Carnegie Hall" and all that goes with that.
Reality is standing on that busy street in Astoria, Queens, at 7:30 on Monday morning, waiting for the M-60 bus to LaGuardia as the newspaper hawkers peddle the Daily News and A.M. New York, and everyone is cold and tired and not ready for Monday. Reality is noticing that the industrial parts of New York are just as battered as anywhere in Detroit. Reality is the screaming bag lady, the loose electrical plugs in the midtown hotel, the brokers, the geeks and the junkies.
Reality is the sheer extremes, the sheer range of everything, the exhilaration, the fatigue, the sense of living life to its fullest.
I fell asleep, overwhelmed, before the plane left the runway.

26 Hours in New York: The show

2009-04-25T22:55:00.006-04:00

The sun was setting as we walked from the Columbus Circle station back to 57th Street, the hotel and Carnegie Hall.
It was almost showtime.

The show was to begin at 8:30 p.m. We were directed to the third tier - the balcony.

Talent, practice, hard work, rehearsal, dedication. The Mt. Pleasant Concert Choir members were easy to spot among the other choirs that comprised this year's National Youth Choir, even from the balcony, by the confidence with which they moved. And when the Youth Choir sang, and my daughter was in it, I felt the tears.

It was real.

26 Hours in New York: Crazy

2009-04-25T22:51:00.005-04:00

I didn't notice the bag lady in the back of the subway car until I was already seated. That's when the, uh, distinctive scent wafted past.
She didn't want company. The madwoman made that clear, with cursing and yelling and twitching and general unhappiness.
There were about 10 of us in the car. As one, we calmly went out the door - we were still at the station - and moved to the next car.
Not a word was said.

26 Hours in New York: Grand Central Terminal

2009-04-25T22:39:00.004-04:00

Few pieces of architecture provoke the kind of reaction produced by Grand Central Terminal, with its God's-eye astronomical ceiling, the crowds, the history. We changed subway trains here on the way back to the hotel. It's as awesome as the stories say.

Now serving only Metro North trains, it still carries itself as if all tracks in the country lead here.

26 Hours in New York: Mammon

2009-04-25T22:22:00.007-04:00

Wall Street is a real street. It's narrow and old, but it's a symbol. Because that symbol of evil, capitalist excess and immorality, the New York Stock Exchange, is located there at the corner of Wall and New streets, it's also a target. Automatic barricades rise out of the street, and remain up most of the time, blocking out potential truck bombers and maniacs. Visitors on foot with cameras, however, are welcome.

Only members of the exchange and their invited guests may enter into the exchange, but surely, the street outside is a great place for a photo.

Especially for someone with an MBA. Capitalism lives! It's worth noting, that the Paris stock exchange was called La Bourse de Paris before it changed its name to the Euronext Paris in 2000. La Bourse en français translates literally to "the purse."

Did someone say "purse?" Oh my! A street vendor in front of Trinity Church! It's heaven on the streets of New York!

Of course, it's a designer knockoff, but Kissy Missy says it's beautiful. And it's big. I suspect there's more room in there than in the trunk of my Ford Escort.

26 Hours in New York: The Preacher

2009-04-25T21:57:00.002-04:00

We headed for Wall Street - and we found Pastor Benny.
I'm still not quite sure how Pastor Benny latched onto Kissy Missy, but when I turned around, he was explaining how Jesus could save her immortal soul.
Pastor Benny had run a storefront church that had burned for five days in the wake of 9/11. But faith had kept him going.
Ordinarily, I will thank a street preacher for his time and his faith, but something about Pastor Benny's face drew me in. He has a face that says New York, a beautiful face.
His dogma is interesting - a mix of messianic Judaism, it appears, and evangelical Protestantism. He mentioned "66 books" of the Bible - the number of books in the Protestant canon, but talked about translations directly from Hebrew.
We met a small number of his followers in a deli - and promised to send him a photo.
And, of course, he wanted to know if we were saved. The answer: "As the Bible says, I am already saved (Rom. 8:24, Eph. 2:5–8), but I’m also being saved (1 Cor. 1:8, 2 Cor. 2:15, Phil. 2:12), and I have the hope that I will be saved (Rom. 5:9–10, 1 Cor. 3:12–15). Like the apostle Paul I am working out my salvation in fear and trembling (Phil. 2:12), with hopeful confidence in the promises of Christ (Rom. 5:2, 2 Tim. 2:11–13)."

26 Hours in New York: Late afternoon

2009-04-24T21:55:00.007-04:00

Nearly eight years after the attacks on New York and Washington, Ground Zero, the site of the World Trade Center, remains sacred ground, a blank spot in the New York skyline surrounded on the ground by other buildings that survived.
The debris from the Twin Towers has been gone for years, and the site is essentially a construction zone now.
But every day, hundreds of people come to visit, to gawk, to stand on the steps of Brooks Brothers or to climb to the second floor of the Burger King across the street, and remember that strange, horrifying day.

No one needs to explain what 9/11 means. As we walked by, a TV crew from Japan was shooting some sort of story. The story, clearly, is not done.

Flowers still decorate the fence outside the site. We gladly bought a magazine that carried the most iconic images of the day.
There's a sense of loss, a spirit that pervades the air. Others have written about it, and it's real.
The people, like us, who come from far away to see are not gawkers or tourists or ghouls. We are pilgrims, and whatever replaces the Twin Towers - as something inevitably will - must preserve that sense of place and spirit.

But it's New York, and commerce goes on. The choir's hotel was just a couple of blocks away from Ground Zero.
And Katherine says she had the best pizza she's ever had from Steve's, and other choir members raved about Charlys burgers - both located across the street from Ground Zero.

COMING UP: The preacher, the purse, and things get weird!

26 Hours in New York - afternoon

2009-04-23T21:15:00.005-04:00

The Village has its own character, but 50 years of Bohemian chic has left it gentrified and expensive.

But there's no doubt about the politics. We wandered around, absorbing the sense of the place, then found the Washington Square-NYU station and headed for the financial district.

The choir's hotel was located less than two blocks from Ground Zero, just down the block from the devastated DeutscheBank building, which is now being carefully taken down. On the sidewalk beneath the protective shield that keeps stuff from falling on pedestrians, we ran into Katherine and some other choir members.
They had a rehearsal coming up.

The National Youth Choir's director, Eph Ehly, is exuberant, outgoing, over-the-top, but he is "one of the most sought-after choral conductors/clinicians," according to the American Choral Directors Journal. He taught at the University of New Mexico, the University of Missouri-Kansas City and the University of Oklahoma, and more than 90 students have earned their doctorates under his supervision.
Katherine says he reminds of her Robin Williams.

The 2009 National Youth Choir comprises seven of the best prep choirs in the country, from California, Michigan, North Carolina, Maryland and Florida. Michigan boasts two of these choirs: the Fraser Singers from Fraser High School in Shelby Township, and the Mt. Pleasant High School Concert Choir.
In rehearsal, they sounded awesome:

The choir's job after rehearsal: Relax until the show. Our job: The adventure continues.

26 Hours in New York - late morning

2009-04-23T11:09:00.004-04:00

After Times Square, it was back on the subway to 116th Street. Columbia University has been sending regular recruiting material to Robert, and he thought he might like to see what the neighborhood was like at Morningside Heights.
It's peaceful, a very big change from the bustle of midtown.
Columbia is New York's Ivy League school, very selective, a very, very long history. Lord help my checkbook and pray for financial aid. Robert felt right at home.

As do I. Is this where I finally get my doctorate? Is the J-school founded by Joseph Pulitzer, with the statute of Thomas Jefferson out front, my destiny?

But there's that other school in New York that heavily recruited Andrew, and now is sending its beautiful, enticing brochures to Robert: NYU. It's in Greenwich Village, and its Washington Square campus centers around that public space. It was about lunchtime when we arrived, so at Kissy Missy's urging, we at what turns out to be a campus hangout: the Washington Square Diner on Fourth Street at Sixth Avenue. Sitting at the counter was another New York Experience - the Village experience.
The buildings marked are NYU buildings. The neighborhood is upscale bohemian, as might be expected. Robert said he frankly preferred uptown. I couldn't help but think, however, that Andrew would feel right at home in the Village. But at about $40,000 a year for grad tuition, well, let's hope for a fellowship.

26 Hours in New York - Morning

2009-04-22T22:16:00.005-04:00

There was no way that Katherine would sing at Carnegie Hall without our being there. This, of course, involves a trip to New York. The plan: Catch a red-eye from Detroit, fly into Laguardia, and do some quick and dirty sightseeing in the hours before - and after - the concert. Part 1, red-eye: Not a bad way to fly on a Sunday morning. We arrived on time, and decided to take public transit into Midtown.

The New York Metropolitan Transit Authority has a great system for paying for bus and subway rides: The Metropass. A one-day pass costs $7.50, and gives you unlimited rides. We caught the M-60 bus from LaGuardia, which took us to the closest subway station in Astoria, Queens. The view is urban, busy, but the train came in a few minutes.

A taxi ride from LaGuardia would have cost at least $60, and taken about 30 minutes. It took us 20 minutes. Given we'd spent $22.50 for subway fare, we already were ahead.
We came out directly across from Carnegie Hall, right near our hotel. It was 9 a.m.

Sightseeing: First stop, Times Square. Even on a Sunday morning, it's busy, crazy ...

... garish, and just plain American.
Not for the last time, this thought struck me: If all someone knows about America is New York, the picture is very distorted. But leave New York out of the picture, and the image is just as distorted.

Redeye

2009-04-18T22:42:00.002-04:00

Choir members spent the day in rehearsal - I don't think they made it down to the GM Building for the CBS Early Show - even though I watched. The only music was from a much better known band.
Rehearsal: Katherine says the overall choir director reminds her of Robin Williams.
The city: Lots of walking, followed by lots of walking, then more working.
Kissy Missy, Bert and I fly out of DTW at Oh-Dark-20, watch the sun rise over Lake Erie, and connect with the choir before noon.
It's bedtime.

TV fizzles, IHOP sizzles

2009-04-17T10:34:00.003-04:00

Today's planned appearance by the Mt. Pleasant High School Concert Choir to sing out a break on the CBS=TV "Early Show" didn't happen.
Details are still sketchy, but it looks as if the choir was still in New Jersey when the show was on the air. Plans now are to do the Saturday version of the show.
Breakfast was at an IHOP somewhere in Jersey. The choir, at last report, had made it into the city and was on its way to Central Park.
From Twitter: "I really like it here."

Into the Big Apple

2009-04-17T06:33:00.002-04:00

So, how does dawn over New York, followed by an appearance on national television, sound?
That's what's scheduled for the Mt. Pleasant High School Concert Choir.
The choir was to perform at a prep school in St. Catharines, Ontario, last night, then see Niagara Falls.
A tweet from choir member kaymaysings92: "NIAGARA FALLS IS STUNNING!!"
But things got a little weird - the bus had some mechanical problems.
"Our bus is broken," Katherine tweeted. "This always happens to me in foriegn countries. Europe and now Canada. How strange..."
But the bus got back on the road, the choir cleared customs around midnight and headed down the New York State Thruway toward New York.
The choir is scheduled to be on the plaza at 59th Street and Fifth Avenue outside the "CBS Early Show," and there's a distinct possibility they'll be asked to sing out a break this morning - live, coast-to-coast, from the streets of New York.
The choir is scheduled to sing at Carnegie Hall Sunday night.

Practice, practice, practice

2009-04-16T10:33:00.004-04:00

Katherine soon will see this view - the view from the stage at Carnegie Hall.
The Mt. Pleasant High School concert choir, in which Katherine sings alto, will perform as part of the National Choir Festival at Carnegie Hall in New York Sunday afternoon.
It still doesn't quite seem real, but it is.
The performance is Sunday night. Kissy Missy, Robert and I will be flying out Sunday morning to see the show.
"See you in New York," I told Katherine as I hugged her good-bye this morning. "Make me proud."
Follow the choir via Twitter; monitor hash code #MPNYC.

Performance weekend

2009-03-29T22:00:00.004-04:00

Saturday was one heck of a day.
It began with Robert earning a "1" at the state solo and ensemble festival at Okemos. An amazing amount of work for a medal - and a medal that means a heck of a lot.
Then, it was on to Saginaw Valley State University and the Michigan Color Guard Circuit state championships.

Katherine is part of the Mt. Pleasant Independent color guard.

Practices, costumes, sometimes tears, always intense.

Contests at Lowell, Lakeland, Novi ....

The first year of the intense competititon of Independent A ...

... and a sixth-place finish at the finals.
Not bad. Not bad at all. When I was a sophomore, a junior ... I was just hangin' around the newspaper office. Look where it got me.
Where will this get them?

Cinderella at the Rotary Dinner

2009-03-22T10:30:00.003-04:00

Doesn't she look like Cinderella? The scullery maiden? Actually, Katherine volunteered to work at the annual Mt. Pleasant Rotary Club's beef dinner. The club is supporting winter guard - where Katherine is a member - and the Mt. Pleasant High School Choir, where Katherine is a member. The Rotarians are helping to send the choir to New York next month, where they will be performing at Carnegie Hall.

The dinner - roast beef, stuffing, green beans, creamy mashed potatoes and gravy - was fabulous. And doesn't Katherine look lovely in her plastic apron, doing honest work? It is, after all, all for the arts.

CMU's Powwow

2009-03-21T22:15:00.004-04:00

I had the opportunity to attend Central Michigan University's 20th annual Powwow today. It's gotten big enough that it's moved into Rose Arena from Finch Fieldhouse.

As always, the grand entrance is spectacular. It attracts dancers from all over the United States and Canada.

It's a different sense from the Saginaw Chippewas' summer powwow. That's more like a fair and a family reunion. At this one, I get a sense of competition from some very serious dancers, as well as a sense of the importance of keeping the traditions alive.

And if a tradition isn't passed along to the next generation, what does it matter?

Check out the video I put together for TheMorningSun.com.

Nothing But Treble

2009-02-07T19:32:00.002-05:00

Mt. Pleasant High School Choir's Nothing But Treble ensemble, to which Katherine belongs, performed today at the Solo & Ensemble Festival at Central Michigan University.
Listen.

You Are the New Day

Walking to Jerusalem

Katherine's Ducky commercial

2009-02-02T21:35:00.002-05:00

As part of a media class project, Katherine shot and produced a TV commercial - for bathtub duckies.

In our bathtub.

Surgery successful. Bleeding has stopped.

2009-02-02T16:26:00.003-05:00

OK, I admit I was cruel when I send the headline as a Tweet.
(Tweet: a message sent on Twitter.)
Here's the whole story:
About 10, maybe 15 years ago, I developed a small, fatty tumor on my chest. It was very small and looked like a mole.
But the thing kept growing. Then it got a buddy. And another one. And more moved in.
I do not like doctors. I spend enough time and money being in the clutches of the Medical-Pharmaceutical Complex that I don't go looking for trouble. Besides, I'm male, and men don't go to doctors until they're dying.
As a general rule, it's good practice to stay out of the way of people who come at you with sharp objects. That's just instinct, especially when you know you're the subject of that sharp object.
These things were ugly, though, and I decided to see if there was anything that could be done.
This morning, my doctor looked at them and said, "We can take them off."
"OK, sure," I responded. "When?"
"Lay down."
[Try to look cool and unconcerned. Try not to look at the sharp objects. Do not be concerned when he asks the nurse for a stack of 4 x 4 pads, and says, "oh, we'll need more." Don't even allow the words "needle" or "scalpel" into your mind. Try not to remember the doctor who once set you on fire.]
In less than 10 minutes, he removed 27 of these ugly things, including one he pronounced "the size of a small child." That was the first one.
He's very skilled and it hurt very little. The trouble is that I've been on aspirin therapy for nearly 11 years (the MPC never lets go) to prevent unwanted blood clots.
And wanted ones. Man, the stuff works. I bled like a stuck pig. That stack of 4 x 4s went down pretty fast.
But the bleeding now has stopped. My chest, however, looks as if I've been on a hunting trip with Dick Cheney.

Les Chats de l'hiver

2009-01-26T22:09:00.006-05:00

The title means "The cats of winter," and Minden and München have fluffed out, cuddled up and used their instincts to keep warm against the bitter Michigan winter.

Not that they're outside cats, of course. Minden once did stray into the garage - a fascinating place. But staying warm, even when it's 70 degrees inside, is an art form. It requires two talented cats to form a single heart-shaped pussycat.

München has a special hideaway in the back of the closet, atop a fuzzy blanket and beneath Dad's sweaters.

Minden, when he's not cuddled with München, will cuddle with Kissy Missy on her recliner.

C'est l'hiver en Michigan. C'est froid. Maintainez le chat chaud!

Front page

2009-01-24T18:11:00.002-05:00

I clicked onto Central Michigan University's front page today - and got a really nice surprise.
The featured image was the classroom/lab where I teach. Those are two journalism students - graduates, now, actually - and a colleague.
Actually, the front page feature photo rotates around to a number of different showcase programs. It's nice to see the affirmation of what we do.
And Taryn, Kim and Kent - you're looking good. Much better choice than putting me up there.

Winter's progress

2009-01-21T15:07:00.002-05:00

Today is Jan. 21.

That means we are one month into winter.

Winter is ONE-THIRD done!

Which means we've got twice as much winter in front of us as we've already experienced.

Woo. Hoo.

Decide you’re not cold

2009-01-13T22:51:00.003-05:00

It’s a little frosty outside, but it’s a lot more bearable if you just decide to use the proper words to describe the temperature. Be optimistic.
Not sure which words you should use? Here’s some guidance to choosing the right words to feel warmer:
50-59: Sweater weather
40-49: Pleasant
30-39: Cool
20-29: Chilly
10-19: Brisk
0-9: Nippy
-9 to -1: Frosty
-10 to -19: Shivery
-20 to -29: OK, now I’ll admit it’s cold
-30 to -40: Maybe we should go inside …
-40 or below: … and bring the keg inside, too.
Just remember that at minus 30 with a 30 mph wind, human flesh freezes solid in 30 seconds. Anything less is just frostbite.

The finals

2008-11-02T22:36:00.005-05:00

The Friday Night Performance

There were tears in my eyes at Ford Field as I watched the best performance I have ever seen of the Mt. Pleasant High School marching band.

The music was awesome, on-target. The marching was crisp, the flags right on.

After several highly cerebral performances by the truly excellent bands from Ferndale, Grand Rapids Northview and Stephensville Lakeshore, the Oiler band wrapped up the flight with rock and roll.

Playing rock and roll with a marching band is tricky business. It can sound really bad. The Oilers do it better than anyone.

The result: an awesome 79.35 score, the best for an Oiler band since they won the state championship in 2000.

I couldn't help but remember how, two years ago, I was so excited when the band broke 70. Two years ago, Mt. Pleasant scored a 72.35, good for sixth. Last year, it was a 73.65, good for eighth. Last year, four band broke 80; this year, three did - Ferndale in third, Northview second and Lakeshore winning it.

Mt. Pleasant proved it belongs in that stratospheric height. And the band members already are looking forward to 2009.

Kiss? The Who? The Doors? Nobody does it better.

The Flight III schedule

2008-10-28T16:07:00.007-04:00

Here is the schedule of performances Saturday for the Flight III state competition at Ford Field:

1:10	p.m.	Marysville
1:25	p.m.	Allegan
1:40	p.m.	Linden
1:55	p.m.	Byron Center
2:10	p.m.	Trenton
2:25	p.m.	Redford Thurston
2:40	p.m.	Gr Rapids Northview
2:55	p.m.	Stevensville Lakeshore
3:10	p.m.	Ferndale
3:25	p.m.	Mt. Pleasant
*3:40*	*p.m.*	*Awards*

Yes, the Oilers perform last. What an opportunity!

The best score in eight years

2008-10-27T10:01:00.005-04:00

The Mt. Pleasant High School Marching Band will move into the Michigan Flight III finals in fourth place after achieving its highest score since 2000.

The Oilers scored a 74.7 at the Huron Valley Invitational in White Lake Saturday. That was good enough to finish third behind five-time defending state champion Ferndale and the very tight, highly talented Redford Thurston.

That came after Mt. Pleasant won the Plymouth-Canton Invitational earlier in the day, collecting all the caption awards.

I just had to ....

2008-10-21T11:56:00.000-04:00

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The uniforms aren't purple!

2008-10-18T10:53:00.001-04:00

From Sound Off on TheMorningSun.com:

I'm a Mt. Pleasant High School graduate and an alumni (sic) of the band. I was horrified that our new band uniforms are not blue and gold. Those are our school colors. They bought black and purple? I will not support the band anymore.

Ahem. The band uniforms are NOT purple.
The Mt. Pleasant community raised about $40,000 for new marching band uniforms, which the band has worn proudly since mid-September.
The uniforms are mostly black and very sleek-looking. One sleeve is white, and a white stripe shaped like a mountain (to honor the Mountain City) accents the chest. Above the stripe, the uniforms are an electric blue.
When performing at a Mt. Pleasant football game, the band wears triangular gold patches that read "MP." At competition, the patch is replaced by a mirrored accent that adds dramatically to the band's visual impact.
The marching band's final 2008 local show will be Friday, Oct. 24 at halftime of the Mt. Pleasant-Fruitport football game.
That will be followed by competitions Saturday, Oct. 25 at Lakeland High School in White Lake and at the Plymouth Canton Invitational - and likely the state marching band finals at Ford Field in Detroit Nov. 1.

The show went on

2008-09-26T21:40:00.004-04:00

Dusk had fallen on downtown Mt. Pleasant as the Oiler band launched into a standstill performance of its 2008 competitive show, "The Show Must Go On," at the corner of Broadway and Franklin streets.
They'd marched in the Mardi Gras parade (yes, Mt. Pleasant's Mardi Gras is in September, and it's on a Friday - do I have to explain that every year?) and they showed off their new uniforms.
The show went on.

The best line for a Sunday

2008-09-21T13:00:00.002-04:00

From today's Maureen Dowd column in the New York Times:

"The people who want English to be the official language of the United States are uncomfortable with their leaders being fluent in it."