Technology answers the call

Do you enjoy watching your favorite television show only to be interrupted by not one, not two, but numerous back-to-back commercials?

I'm old enough to remember when there was a break at 15-minute intervals by a 60-second spot to sell advertising by a single sponsor at a time. Today, that is certainly not the case. We see ad after ad after ad, selling everything from male enhancement drugs to a cure for baldness. At least learning about the age-old cure for diarrhea comes with a little jingle a half-heart attempt to entertain us.

The worst commercials are the ones by drug companies. How many of those have caused naive television watchers to go to the doctor to ask for a drug only to learn that it was later recalled because it caused heart disease or kidney damage? Some people are so gullible that they believe the drivel they see on TV. They believe the actors who are paid to make certain claims, even if they are untrue. How stupid!

Technology's answer: Use your DVR and Tivo. Either record it to watch at your convenience. Or, if you want to watch the show and not the commercials, simply hit pause when the show starts. Do something else for a little while. You have some time. When you come back to it, just watch your show and fast-forward during the commercials. If I forget to hit pause, I will simply let the show go until I'm ready to watch. Then I rewind back to the beginning and watch as usual, fast-forwarding through the commercials. As long as you give your DVR a head start, it will let you control your television viewing.

Speaking of marketing, have you ever been preparing dinner, doing six things at once, when all of a sudden the phone rings? You drop what you are doing and pick it up only to find an unfamiliar voice asking questions about your product usage? Often times you have to strain to hear because the pot is boiling, radio is blasting, husband is talking, and your mind is on so many other things. It is easy to recognize the voice on the other end of the phone is unfamiliar. To make matters worse, the caller has such a heavy accent that you can't understand what they are saying. You want to be polite, but frankly you have no idea what they are saying or why they are calling you. Eventually you realize it is just a marketing consultant. You try not to be rude, but no amount of explanation will get rid of them. So, you hang up, knowing they will probably call back. How rude!

Technology's answer: Caller ID. What a wonderful invention. When you see the 800 number pop up, you know not to even bother picking up the phone.

Now, if only someone could find a technological answer to 'stupid' and 'rude' people, we would really have something. C'mon all you geniuses out there, get cracking on that one.

Another Ozark Adventure

Northwest Arkansas has gotten hammered by snow. Both our county and state have issued a disaster declaration. The very word, "disaster" conjures up all kinds of ideas. But don't feel sorry for me - I couldn't be more content.

We received 9-inches of snowfall between Thursday through Friday. It is beautiful to look at, to watch the birds scurry to and from feeders, in the trees and on the ground as they make little footprints in the snow. They know they can count on us for a good supply of food to get them through.

This is so unlike a year ago when our area was pummeled by ice, destroying everything in its wake, complete with five days of having no electricity in our all-electric home, this disaster is one we don't mind at all.

The predictions were scary, because no one really seemed to know just where the storm would go, how long it would stay, or what kind of precipitation we would get. It could have been ice, rain, or snow.

The odds were weighing heavily against rain, and it looked early on like it would be plenty of moisture.

Thursday night was ominous as the freezing rain started to fall, heavily, conjuring up thoughts of a year ago. The temperature dropped and the precipitation turned to snow during the night. We woke up Friday morning to see the trees standing upright, snow on the ground, and more falling. The weather radar brought little comfort as the dreaded pink, which indicates ice, continued to flirt with our area. But with each advance, the blue color that depicted snow continued to dance on its toes, causing it to retreat. Thanks to my husband John who kept the wood stove stoked, this turned out to be just like any other day, except that it was much more beautiful as we couldn't keep ourselves from looking out the windows.

It continued to snow Friday night. A yardstick measured more than 7-inches in the front yard.

We awoke Saturday morning to even more snow on the ground--upwards of 10-inches. The snow stuck to the bark of the trees in random patterns like those of an artist's brush. Snow filled the angles where limbs branched out from their trunks. It piled onto stationery surfaces, such as bird feeders, railings, and posts. It looked thick and fluffy, like the landscape endured a shaving-cream attack. The woods never looked more beautiful. Well, maybe except for the greens of spring and summer and orange tones of fall.

So, we now consider ourselves stranded. The refrigerator and pantry are well-stocked, our cats have plenty of food, logs are piled high outside almost within an arm's reach, and the sun is now shining, adding the glitter to the fairytale scene. Life is good in the Ozarks.

I savored the reading of Andy Williams' memoir

I just finished reading "Moon River and Me," by Andy Williams. Andy's memoir isn't a huge book. It is easy to read, easy to follow, and easy to enjoy. I enjoyed every word. I adore Andy Williams, as mentioned in this previous blog post. I didn't want to start reading this book until it was just the right time. I wanted all to be quiet in the house. There had to be an intermission in my todo list that I wouldn't feel too guilty about later. I wanted to be in the right frame of mind. I wanted lots of available iced tea nearby. I wanted to savor every word. And I did.

I have never really known how to describe my feelings for Andy. I've never liked the term "fan," although I really am a fan. But I can't help but think there is so much more to it than that. I can't say he is my favorite singer, because I love so many singers. Yet if asked, "Who is your favorite singer?" Andy Williams would be the first to come to mind. I can't claim he is my favorite entertainer, because I have only seen him in concert twice, and in person once, so far. Entertained doesn't come close to how he made me feel, yet swooned seems a bit melodramatic. Some wordsmith...I can't even come up with a word to describe how I feel about Andy.

But after reading his book, I realized that the word to describe my feelings for Andy has to be "connected." I feel a kinship to this man.

As I read about his life, I thought about my own. I felt a connection to him that sprang from the pages of his book. Perhaps it was growing up in the Midwest, with similar values, even though we are a generation apart. Perhaps it was having a parent that said you aren't quite good enough, or an unspoken desire to strive to please our fathers.

As I read about Andy's friendship to Bobby Kennedy and the deep loss he felt after Kennedy was killed, I was reminded that my first political awakening occurred when Kennedy was shot. I was just a freshman in high school at the time, and had no political leanings, but I think I became a Democrat that day. I got into a huge fight with a close friend of mine that never healed. Andy was a Republican, but made an exception over his friendship with the Kennedy clan. He voted Democrat in the primary and appeared as a delegate at the convention. It was in Chicago, by the way, where I lived at the time. We were just miles apart on that day.

Of course I never experienced fame and certainly not fortune, but Andy wasn't always so well off. He knew what it was like to struggle. He didn't always have it easy. I've worked hard too. I've been accused of being a workaholic.

After reading his book, I am even more amazed that I met this man -- who performed for royalty and knew everyone famous person I'd ever heard of -- in a grocery store.

I had doubts after my personal meeting with Andy Williams, but they were resolved on page 143. I was bothered when I met him. I felt such warm feelings about this man but he seemed oddly cold. I understood after reading about Andy's relationship with Bing Crosby.

Andy said he had seen a glimpse of the real Bing Crosby, even if only for a few minutes. But then he described what happened when some network executives entered the room.

"Bing slipped back into his normal role; like so many big stars he had developed an affable but rather distant public manner, one that kept all but the most persistent Bing worshipers at arm's length."

Now I know that the Andy Williams I met was the same one he described Bing Crosby to be, affable but rather distant. I'm thinking that this summer, I'd like to go to one of his shows in Branson. Perhaps one day I can meet the real Andy Williams. If not, I feel that by reading his book, I know him just a little better. I still feel the connection and the feelings are still warm.

Bad blogger, bad blogger

It has been a while since I've written in this blog, but not because I've given up writing; quite the contrary. I have been writing more of late.

In fact, I recently became re-employed. I was laid off in March from a small weekly, Illinois newspaper where I have worked since 1999. Even after my husband and I moved to Arkansas, I contributed stories of local interest to that paper. That always cracks me up. But except for face-to-face interviews and physically covering meetings, most of what I do can be done over the phone or via email, virtually from anywhere.

Last fall, another reporter, was also let go for cost-savings. She decided to start her own newspaper. Though she and I have never met, she had heard good things about my work. She sent me an email to ask if I'd consider writing for her. I agreed.

It took a while to get up to speed on what was happening in neighborhoods 600 miles away from where I live, but with long friendships and acquaintances, it wasn't too difficult.

Some of my latest projects have had to do with the state's effort to build a new airport. It is a project that to me never really made sense. But, Illinois politicans remain determined to dust off a 1968 idea, spend money on new marketing strategies, and keep the thing alive. Most of their promises continue to amount to nothing more than politcian-speak. I doubt they will ever succeed.

I've followed their progress, or lack of it, since 1985, back when I was a simple housewife and stay-at-hom mom who heard about what I thought was an outlandish scheme to build an airport larger than O'Hare International Airport, one of the busiest airports in the world in the farm fields some 40 miles south of Chicago. It was easy to be 'no airport.'

I was born in Chicago and grew up a few miles from O'Hare.

Those are very different places than the small farm town surrounded by country where I lived. Yet it was just a few miles from the project's proposed location. An airport just didn't fit. I was inspired to fight the thing, so I hung up my apron and grabbed a pencil and writing pad. I never thought the battle would last most of my adult life.

The people didn't want it. The local governments didn't want it. The airlines didn't want it. Only the politicans, real estate agents, construction workers, and land speculators wanted it. And they had all the political clout. The good folks that would be displaced had none.

That pen and paper came in handy because just a few months later, the fates led me to the newsroom of a daily newspaper who hired me to write about this and many other things. And now, as of last November, that is what I continue to do.

Some of the stories I've written about this project and others can be viewed on my blog at CHBlog. Most of them are published.

It is pretty late for New Years' resolutions, but I think I will make one anyway. I'm going to try to be more diligent at writing in my blog.

Moved to tears

Just about every Sunday morning, I can pretty much guarantee that I will be moved to tears. This morning was no different. On my favorite television program, CBS Sunday Morning, I so enjoyed the story of Johnny Mercer. How fitting to honor this man by erecting a bronze likeness of him in his home town of Savannah, GA in 2009 which would have been his 100th birthday.

Who wouldn't be moved to tears by the kind of music this man created or the lyrics that inspired generations? So many wonderful performers sang, danced, or acted to the music he made famous. His music was classic, timeless, unforgettable. Johnny Mercer gave us decades of songs to lift our spirits and ponder our deepest emotions.

I didn't know Mercer was the founder of Capitol Records. I did know he was the co-author of "Moon River" by my beloved Andy Williams. But I learned that he also wrote another of my favorite Andy Williams songs, "Days of Wine and Roses." I didn't know this and many other heartfelt tunes were inspired by Mercer's love for Judy Garland. Ah, the glory days that were the 50's, 60's, and 70's. So much wonderful music; I'm glad I was here to enjoy it all.

I can't quite get excited about today's music. Much of it just doesn't fit the category, at least for me. I can't imagine that it will endure like the classics of days gone by?

I just can't imagine being moved to tears by stories of music by Amy Winehouse or Eminem.

So thank you CBS Sunday Morning. You offer a great way to start the day.