Homesick just isn't quite right

Chicagoland Speedway in the rain
-- courtesy of Chris Henrichs

Opening my desk drawer to retrieve a nail file, I happened to catch a glimpse of an old press badge. Judging from the name of the newspaper displayed on the yellowed, plastic card with a much younger version of my face on it, I imagine it to be from before 1999.

That badge predated the completion of the Chicagoland Speedway in Joliet, where I would be right now, if it were possible. I'd love to be at the NASCAR races this weekend. I've never been to a race, though that doesn't detract from my status as an avid fan, even if I must settle for television coverage.

I watched them build the Chicagoland track. It was miles from where I used to live. I even took a picture of the work in progress as the local reporter in a nearby town back then. I remember thinking that it was massive; it rose like a monolith on the flat, fertile land. In those days I didn't understand. I had very limited knowledge of racing. I knew nothing about NASCAR or drivers' personalities, or the speeds at which the cars are driven. I had no idea that this huge endeavor would add to the billion-dollar industry that is NASCAR. I had heard names like Richard Petty and Davey Allison, but knew nothing of who they were.

I recall meeting one of the track promoters at a local gathering, though I can't remember her name. She was very interested to learn that I worked for a newspaper, as she was obviously trying to publicize the track's activities. She offered to show me around the completed race track. And she said to call her if I was interested in press credentials, or if there was anything else she could do for me.

My how things have changed. Somewhere around 2004, I had my NASCAR awakening. My son, Chris introduced me to the sport and to Ryan Newman, his favorite driver. My adoration may have even surpassed that of my son. It didn't take long before I was completely obsessed, like so many others who worship at the oval altar of concrete and asphalt, banked turns, three-wide racing and photo finishes nearly every weekend. Friends and family know not to call me on race day.

Retired now, home is in Arkansas, not Illinois. I love living here, in the beautiful 'Natural State.' I'm not homesick for Illinois, but it sure would be nice to be there, if just for the weekend.

Top 10 - Peotone Airport obsession isn't so bad

For more than 20 years, I have been obsessed with the State of Illinois' proposal to build a new airport far south of the City of Chicago near a cute little farm town called Peotone. I've been writing about it so long that even I find it amazing that this wasn't the topic of my first post in this blog. I'm sure others are shocked as well. But overall, I think my obsession with the Peotone project has been a good thing. With deference to David Letterman, I have devised a top 10 list of why my Peotone Airport obsession isn't so bad.

10 There is always a subject to talk/write about
9 Whenever I see a chalkboard, there is always something to draw (no airport symbols)
8 I've made plenty of friends, not to mention enemies
7 I've learned a lot along the way: political cynicism; judging character; and recognizing lies
6 No airport symbols makes me happy
5 There is always something to look for in a google search
4 It is nice to be an expert about something
3 I have earned new titles; some might consider it name-calling
2 Thinking about the airport keeps my blood pressure up - I know I'm alive
1 I've learned the real meaning of manure - airport 'studies'

A Congressman named King, the King of Pop, and Truth

The latest Michael Jackson blather comes from Congressman Pete King, R-NY. King recorded a video where he criticizes the media circus surrounding the pop star's recent death and soon-to-be memorial service. He stepped way beyond the boundaries as he calls Jackson a pedophile and pervert. He was highly critical of the media coverage that he said should instead be focused on members of the military who have died in service to our country. He made the statement on the Fourth of July amid a backdrop of flags waving as he stands in front of his Wantagh, NY American Legion post.

Now, while there may be some value to King's questioning the excessive media coverage of Michael Jackson's death, I can't help but wonder about his motives. Whenever I hear a Republican spewing the 'hurrah for the troops' rhetoric, especially in full view of the high-flying stars and stripes and in the shadow of the American Legion, I can't help but be a little suspicious.

There is a funny thing about rhetoric. There is usually some grain of truth buried inside the huge nugget of grandiosity. In my opinion, the media coverage has been over-the-top. It went beyond the "developments" in the case stemming from drugs being found, potential child custody issues, and other newsworthy events.

Unfortunately, King's remarks about celebrating the service of police, firefighters, and members of the military was lost by his name-calling. A lawmaker should know better than anyone that Michael Jackson was not convicted of any wrongdoing. This is the land of law where a man is innocent until proven guilty.

Does this mean I believe Jackson was beyond suspicion, despite his own admission that he slept with little children? Do I think he lied about his relationships with children even at the same time he swore he never had any kind of plastic surgery on his face or that his appearance changed naturally as he grew from a cute little black child to a ghastly-looking white man?

Herein lies the most concrete observation I came away with after years as a journalist. It seems that truth lies in the eye of the beholder. Even though we all grew up believing truth was black and white, we also believed in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. Perspective colors the truth. And it is only after establishing the shade of gray that determines truth, can there be belief.

Fourth of July

This had to be my most memorable 4th of July - 2004 - when Barack Obama was running for the U.S. Senate. As the local reporter covering the parade which passed my house annually, I was in a prime location when Obama and a contingent of local Democrats marched by. Who would have ever thought at that point that this tall, lean, man with a smile even bigger than mine, would become the 44th President of the United States?

This year's 4th of July paled in comparison. No longer living in Illinois where my chance encounter with Obama took place, I now live in Arkansas; no complaints here though. I love those typical, non-eventful days where the birds sing, the cats play, and the dog lazes around on the porch. The day was like any other, except for the tearful beginning -- a reminder of what the day is really all about.

Secretary of the Interior, Ken Salazar was a guest on Good Morning America to report that the statue of Liberty crown, high above New York Harbor on Ellis Island would re-open to visitors for the first time since Sept. 11, 2001. The New York Daily News held an essay contest for youngsters as reported on Good Morning America, where some of the entrants read portions of the essays they wrote. These young writers explained well that this day is not just about fireworks displays, eating and drinking too much, or parades through the street. Those are simply ways folks celebrate the real meaning of America's birthday, which is all too often forgotten.

If the words of youngsters aren't enough to bring a tear to your eye, check out the videos about the history of Ellis Island. If ever this great country is taken for granted, revisit this link.

The 4th of July always brings melancholy feelings at our house. Those old days along the parade route were filled with friends, family, and food, topped off by an afternoon dip in the backyard pool. Since moving, the change has been dramatic. But, that's OK. We still talk to family, there are new friends as well as the long-enduring ones. Cooking out is still an option. And the lake is just 10 minutes away for that afternoon dip.

But this year, we opted out of embracing the heat and humidity just to mingle with hoards of other people to watch fireworks displays. Besides, I am much more frugal these days and consider the thousands of celebrations across the country to be a bit of an unneeded, costly excess, especially in these economic times. I can't believe the occasional oohs and aahs are worth the excessive cost and potential environmental harm by hundreds of thousands of explosions, not to mention safety concerns that this tradition brings.

Count me out of the entertainment when it trumps the real meaning behind what this day is supposed to represent.

I'm a writer - sold my first story

I just sold my first story. Woohoo! I guess that officially makes me an Arkansas writer.

Writing was my intention when my husband and I moved to Arkansas, more than four years ago. I had intended to continue writing to supplement our income. My path to success continues to be as hilly and curvy as Arkansas' roads. But that makes for fun travel and beautiful scenery along the way.

Mine is a meager success, but nonetheless will serve as the impetus for future progress.

Getting established as an Arkansas writer, instead of an Illinois reporter, began with hours of reading about writing. That was helpful, even if not very productive. With no desire to work full time for a daily newspaper again, I settled for a little correspondent work for our local paper, the Baxter Bulletin. It resulted, unbeknownst to me, in an award from the Arkansas Press Association.

After living here about six months, I was invited to resume writing for the papers in Peotone, IL where I used to work. It was comfortable to write for the audience I knew about the issues of which I was so familiar. Interestingly, many readers were unaware that my work now originated from 600 miles away. But due to financial concerns, I was cut to just one story per month. I decided it was time to move on -- thus my first blog post, (see below New blog launched).

I continue reading about writing. And although I plan to pursue more traditional avenues, I am pleased with my first success in on-line writing.

I have tried several writing sites, just to get a feel for what is available. I settled on one -- Helium.com. This is probably one of the best sites I've found, in terms of earnings. My first story was sold to the 'marketplace,' a feature of Helium that allows publishers to buy stories from Helium's thousands of writers of all skill levels. My stories there can be viewed here. The support from staff is excellent. There are wonderful people there. And Helium offers the potential to earn money based on a complex set of criteria. While the potential for earnings for this type of writing pales in comparison to direct contact with publishers, I would certainly recommend it as taking those first steps when crawling will no longer will suffice.

Good to be a computer geek

I have come to the realization that I simply love my computer. I don't know if I would or could be a writer without it. It has allowing me to make a living over the last 20 years. I cannot imagine trying to hand-write a story or type one on a typewriter. I think 'cut, copy, and paste' has revolutionized writing. The ability to move thoughts from paragraph to paragraph makes writing so easy, allowing for concentration on the story instead of writing mechanics. Of course typing is a must, but I learned that years ago.

I love the social networking sites. It has been fun to meet up again with old friends on Facebook, MySpace, and Twitter. Just this week, I re-connected with an old friend I hadn't seen in years. We live miles apart now, both having moved away from the old neighborhood where we used to talk on the sidewalk, literally for hours. Our young children played together. Now, we are grandparents. And we can share pictures. That is one of the best parts about today's technology. I wouldn't think of going anywhere without my camera. My job as a reporter got me into the habit of carrying a camera, and I continue the practice even when not covering a story. Recording moments in time is now second nature, evidenced by the thousands of images that clog my hard drive.

Yesterday, I watched a movie on Hulu.com. Who would have ever thought you could use this little box on the desk for such activities? I admit to having wasted hours and hours on computer games. I was addicted to Mahjongg for a time. It was the ultimate self-competition until my daughter got involved. With her youthful agility, she beat my score by fractions of seconds. And her winning record will just have to stand. Now I love word games. I don't know that it has helped my vocabulary at all, but it does offer great competition. I love Upwards, and Scrabble too. One of my favorite games is Mind Your Marbles, but that is strictly for relaxation purposes.

I wouldn't be without technology, even though it certainly can be infuriating sometimes. Over the years, I cannot imagine all the hours I've spent trying to solve computer problems, although that was the best way to learn. Trying to solve a computer problem can be annoying, frustrating, aggravating, and time-consuming, but never futile. There is no better feeling than conquering the little box that thinks it knows everything. It is easier to solve problems these days, since typing in the problem into Google will usually yield thousands of people with the same problem. And they tell how they solved it. Thank goodness for a world full of computer pioneers, always anxious to help.

But the best part about today's technology is the ability to communicate. It is fast, easy, and satisfying to connect with others, to share information, and to inspire learning. And then there is blogging ...

Today's farming has changed

Check out this video about a beautiful, but giant dairy farm. It looks like some good things are happening down on the farm. I used to live not too far from this place, but never heard of it. If I'm ever back in the area, I'd like to visit. I can't help but wonder if this highly-mechanized method of farming really is the best way? I like the fact that the humongous herd is kept in a controlled environment to ensure protection for both the animals and the consumer. And kudos for opening the farm to the public for inspection and education purposes. That is the best part. A working farm is a marvelous education tool.

Maybe this wave-of-the-future-farming is a good thing, but I just can't help longing for the good ole days when farms were small, run by families, and passed down through generations. The motive was not profit, but that certainly did enter the equation. And it was that bottom line that profit or lack thereof is a major factor in the near-demise of the family farm.

It also bothers me to think of living animals as little more than manufacturers. I can't quite make that leap. Shouldn't cattle be free to wander, and graze in the grass, and be happy. Wouldn't the milk taste better if it came from happy cows? Or am I just an old fool who remembers the Bordens commercials that featured Elsie, the contented cow? The best beverage I ever tasted was milk produced in the morning and chilled until supper.

I refuse to apologize for my idealistic views, born in me while growing up at what I think was the best time of our country's history.

I'm just not convinced that "bigger is better." I detest what urban sprawl has done to the farming community. It has been my experience that growth of cities into suburbs and suburbs into rural areas has been abysmal for all involved. The loss of individuality, the stomping on people's property rights for growth's sake, and so many other ills have been absolutely the wrong way to go. So much more can be said, but I'll save that rant for another time.

One more thing that I really miss -- milk bottles. I wish we could readily and affordably buy milk in glass bottles. I'm sick of plastic. Yes, jars can break, but plastic affects the flavor of the product inside. Plastic lives forever in landfills, and who knows what the leaching of the chemicals into our food does to our health? Glass is recyclable. I don't ever remember seeing glass bottles strewn along roadways. I say, bring back glass.