The Arrogance of the Networks

This is what the people in Oklahoma were faced with today.  The devastation was terrible, and countless people, who survived, were left homeless.

So, naturally, tomorrow dozens of network newspeople will descend upon the community, snarling traffic, occupying dozens of hotel rooms, pestering search and rescue workers and shoving microphones into shocked, tearful faces and asking inane questions and just generally making nuisances of themselves?

Will someone tell me why these network people think they need to go to Oklahoma?  Don't they have local news people living there and covering the story with live feed to New York? Is Matt Lauer, for instance, going to do a better job of describing the devastation than a local news anchor who has lived there for years?

I really wish that hotel owners would turn the out-of-town news people away, at least until there are no more local victims who need shelter.  I also wish they would be refused interviews with families whose members are lost.  Surely, the people of Oklahoma are not so desperate for their 15 minutes of fame that they would seek out television cameras in order to tell the same sad stories over and over. 

It's just disgusting. And it happens every single time there's a disaster somewhere.

And, when will the criticism start?  " The rescue people didn't do enough."  " The governor didn't respond quickly enough."  "Where's Fema?"  Where's the Red Cross?"   President Obama didn't call a press conference early enough, and then, when he did speak, he didn't say the right things." And, of course, the usual cry, "there wasn't enough warning."   And, on and on and on.

You know I'm right.  Stay  tuned.

Scandals On All Sides

Of all the scandals being hyped by the media these days, the worst one, to me, is the sex abuse scandal in the military.  And, I will predict here and now that it is the one that will go away the quickest, in spite of the fact that the problem has been going on for the longest.  The first suggestion made by Secretary Hagel was "Retraining."  RETRAINING?  Hasn't there been enough "retraining" over the years?  And where has it gotten them?  The situation is worse than ever.

The military, which has always prided itself on its self-styled "Warriors" and "Manly Men" spouting their slogans, swaggering around, fist-pumping and assuring each other that women have no place in their ranks, are now going to be put through a series of pointless "retraining" exercises that will have absolutely no effect on their behavior.   This is because the attitudes inside the military are a reflection of our sex-obsessed society.

I'm not blaming only the men.  I like men.  I LOVE men.  I find them endlessly fascinating. We NEED men. Otherwise, who would take out the garbage, mow the lawn and handle all the problems of auto maintenance? Not to mention, who would kill the spiders and investigate when things go bump in the night?

No, I don't place the blame on only the men.  The women are at least equally to blame for the attitudes and, according to various news reports, about 50% of the complaints have come from men.

Retraining isn't going to cut it. It's going to take some serious attitude changes and some court martials, and some time spent in jail to bring about the changes. But, I can almost guarantee that there is no taste for such drastic measures in our military.  

We can expect a period of posturing, skape-goating and cries of outrage, but in 30 days, it will be over. 
I hope I'm wrong.

Stay tuned.

Old Friends

One of my best, most long-time friends died yesterday.  I had known Marla for forty-three years, so I have been thinking a lot about our long friendship and the good and not-so-good times we shared. 

For many years, we either saw each other or spoke on the phone every day. Then, she moved a couple of hundred miles away, and we stayed in touch or got together frequently.  So, there's a lot to remember. I have decided to concentrate on the fun times, because the not-so-fun times, though much fewer in number, tend to be depressing, and there is nothing to be gained from sinking into a "slough of despond," as they say.

There are too many good times to relate, but I'll especially enjoy the memory of a vacation to Florida that our two families took one summer. We left our five kids with a sitter and went with our husbands to play golf one day, the four of us. Marla and I couldn't believe how far we were hitting the ball.  As we issued delighted cries and talked about how much we had improved, our husbands chuckled and whispered to each other about the effect of the sea level and atmospheric pressures, or something, making us better golfers than we could ever hope to be. They let us enjoy our long drives and great iron shots off the pine needles, until we became insufferable with our bragging, and at dinner, they lovingly explained why we weren't in the LPGA's league by any means.  It was a great trip.

Then, there were all the golf tournaments at our local Country Club.  We were members of the Women's Golf Association, and as such, worked hard at the mens' tournaments, selling beverages on the course, helping out in the clubhouse, waiting table, tending bar, even cooking in the years when the club couldn't afford a chef or a manager. We acted as gofers for all the local and out-of-town golfers. One Memorial Day, the rain came down in buckets, but that didn't deter the golfers, so we ladies went to Walmart and bought all the plastic rain suits they had and in spite of that everyone got drenched.  It was one of the best tournaments, ever.

We celebrated together, laughed and cried together and talked and talked and talked. Forty three years' worth of words and laughter and tears.  

I'm really going to miss her.

Stay tuned.  

The Dark Clouds Have Lifted

After a year of tension, anxiety and loss of sleep, my upstairs neighbor, "Leadfoot," has moved out. Jay reported on Saturday that he saw some folks carrying a futon down the stairs, which raised my hopes slightly.  After I reported them for noise, once again, on Thursday,  the rest of the weekend was eerily quiet, making me wonder when the other shoe was going to drop, literally.

My hopes rose even more when Monday dawned and all was still quiet upstairs.  Later that day, Jay ran into the manager (Ron), who told him quite a story. It seems Leadfoot has not lived upstairs for several months.  He illegally sublet the apartment to two girls who were just as noisy and inconsiderate as Leadfoot had been.  Ron said that if I had not reported the noise Thursday night, he might never have known that they were living there illegally.  So, I guess I deserve a great big THANK YOU from management, right? Right.  Will I get one?  No. Ron did say he'd try to get me a better neighbor next time.  Sure, sure.

In the meantime, I'll just enjoy being able to sleep uninterrupted at night for the first time in a year.

Stay tuned.

How Did I Get Involved?

A couple of years ago, Jay started reading and commenting on the blog of Matt-Man, who lives in Ohio. Over time, they became fast friends and started talking about the possibility of having a Talk Radio show.  They have been airing "I'm With Stupid" on Blogtalk Radio for over two years, now.  It took me a little while to understand what Blogtalk Radio is, but I listen to it on Sundays from 11:00 a.m. to 1:00 p.m. or, if I can't listen on Sundays, I listen to it any time on the archives at Ihttp://www.blogtalkradio.com/im-with-stupid.

They work on it constantly, trying to perfect it. And, they have been consistently in the top three in the Humor category for the last year.The show seems like a couple of guys, chatting on the phone, with no particular agenda. They have a theme, kind of, for each show, but if someone calls in and wants to talk about something else, that's fine. They're flexible. They do a certain amount of planning, but like to keep it loose and informal.

Somehow, I have gotten roped into doing a segment every three weeks or so in which I, as Dixie Ozark, report the Redneckville News and Commentary.  It's fun to do, but it'll take some work, as I have only done it twice.

If you've never heard of Internet Talk Radio, it's free to anyone who wants to develop a show. If you don't have a sponsor, your show will be on at the non-premium times of day, and will be limited to 45 minutes a day. There are other restrictions, and Jay and Matt appeared twice a week for the first couple of years.  This year, they managed to get a sponsor, which allowed them to go to a premium time slot.

I don't know all the details and probably never will, because I'm old and the technology parade has passed me by, but if you take a notion to listen in, keep in mind that it is a "guy" show, and every now and then, they just can't resist giving in to their inner 15 year-old boys. But, even then,  they are very funny, and I enjoy listening to them.  If you do listen, and they start talking about  "Jaymom," that would be me. 


Stay tuned.

It's Not That I Don't Want To

It's not that I'm not a Believer, I am.  I just don't believe in church any more. I haven't attended church in years.  I'm a Methodist - always have been, baptized as an infant, and again later when we moved to Harrison and joined the local First Methodist  My children are both Methodists. I have visited my daughter and son in law's churches wherever they have lived (he was in the Air Force and they moved every couple of years until his retirement a year ago.) I have attended Methodist churches in several different states, thanks to them, and I have enjoyed every one.  The people and the ministers were all very friendly and I can say in all sincerity that I felt very welcome each time.

It's just the church in my town in which I just don't feel comfortable.  I have tried for decades, attending church for long stretches at a time, and I simply have never felt welcome in the Methodist Church here. When my children were small, I felt I needed to take them to church and Sunday School.  They never complained, and when she was a teenager, my daughter actually joined and enjoyed the choir. You'd think the other two of us would feel comfortable, but we weren't.  My daughter was married in that church.

There was a long time where we attended every Sunday, rain or shine, and one lady came up to me every Sunday, without fail, and asked if I was a visitor. This happened for a couple of months, until I told her, as always that, no, I had been a member since the 1960s. She never even blinked, so finally, the next Sunday I added, "You have asked me that for eight Sundays straight. Please look closely at me and try to find something about me that will trigger a memory, so you won't have to ask me that again.  (I had no doubt she would remember me as "that rude woman who visited last week, and here she is again.")

I'm not saying there are no friendly people in the church.  Some I have known for years, and they always greet us and chat with us for a moment or two before the service starts. The rest of the members smile and smile and smile - smiles that never reach their eyes.

We tend to have a new minister every two or three years.  They never seem to leave of their own accord. The congregation invariably becomes incensed about something he says or does and they start insisting that he be relieved of his post and sent elsewhere.  One of our better ministers infused his message with humor. He said he thought he might hold  Sunday services in the middle of the lake in summer since that seemed  to be where he could find his congregation.  (The grumbling started.)  Then, on another occasion, also in summer, he said he was going to the lake for a picnic right after church, so he wore his shorts under his robes, and showed them to us, as well as his sandals. (There was an audible gasp.)  He was gone within a month, but far from being punished, he was promoted.  Our loss.

So, I have come to the conclusion that the Methodist Church itself is not to blame.  Our members are, most of them, at least. They are cold and basically unfriendly.  And they wonder why their congregation is not growing.

And, I find that rather sad.

Stay tuned.    

   

My Long Suffering Son.

Mom:  "Jay," I said sweetly, "Are you in a good mood?" 

Jay, looking at me warily, "About as usual.  Why do you want to know?"

Mom:  "Well, I can't tell you how badly I have screwed up my Twitter and Tweet Deck."

Jay, rolling his eyes and putting his head in his hands,: "What do you THINK you did?  What's wrong with it?"

Mom, lower lip quivering:  " I seem to have lost some of the folks I've been following."

Jay, long sigh:  "How many have you lost?" 

Mom:  "Maybe you'd better look at it."

Jay, another long sigh, as he comes back into the room after looking at both web sites:  "You've lost about half of them.  How in hell did you manage that?"

Mom:  "I was trying to add people, and I wanted to delete one of the categories on Tweet Deck, but I guess I hit the wrong button." 

Jay:  " Well, I've restored your list, but, you'll have to re-follow everyone who is missing."

Mom, looking pitiful:   "OK. If I can remember how."

He went back in the other room and I think I heard him mumble, "And, people think I don't have any children." 

I don't think that was necessary, do you?  Comparing me to a child? Anyway, he got me back on line with Twitter and Tweet Deck.

Wait until I tell him what I've done to Facebook. Hehe.

Stay tuned.