Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Monday, January 29, 2007
From local writer Loree Harell
Of course I was proud of both kids for coming home with straight A's. It's easy to admire those qualities in your children that exceeded your own. But at the same time, I shared another emotion with the kids. Not just pride, but unconditional love and acceptance. For my parents, it was easy (easier) to love me when (on those rare occasions) I did get all A's -- or won a speech tournement. It was harder -- and I knew it, for my parents to love and accept me when I fell short of their expectations. It cut like a knife. I can still feel some of those hurts.
So in the celebration of these report cards, I also shared another message: there will come a day when you won't have all A's, a time when you make a mistake, a time when you hurt me or yourself -- a time when you really screw up.
The most important thing to remember is that on that day -- your mom and I will love you, accept you and be as proud of you as we are today.
On a slightly different slant -- the words of writer Loree Harell -- to the parents of young girl, though it applies to boys as well.
Please, somehow don't demand
that your daughter obey you
against her will
because if she learns that
too well,
she will obey others
against her will.
Teach her to trust
what her body knows.
It does know,
and will tell her,
through the hormone scream,
what is right
for her.
Don't require
that she need your approval.
She will need everyone's.
Teach her to believe
what she knows to be true.
Even when it doesn't match
what you want,
what you want for her.
This isn't about you.
Know she will make mistakes,
that she will know
when she has, and that
the only mistakes that matter
are the ones that hurt her,
not the ones that disappoint
you.
Don't make her pay
for how you were at her age.
She is not you.
Remember this is not your story,
it is hers.
She gets to write it,
she has to edit it finally,
to know what to take out, and
what is essential and can't be changed.
It is pure gift of trust
when she asks your feedback
on the draft.
Know that sometimes
she will make you nuts,
hurt you, make you mad,
show all the good sense
of a wombat on acid.
Trust her anyway.
Don't forget
this is a whole human being,
not an appendage of you.
You can quit protecting her now.
She has already made mistakes you don't know about.
She will make more.
Let's try this again.
This person is whole.
You can no longer mold her,
not with your anger or violence or shunning
or shame. This person is whole.
But if you can find the love
to stand with her as equals
together, she will ask you
to help polish the edges
and walk next to her home.
She is better, she is stronger
than you dared believe.
Trust her.
So in the celebration of these report cards, I also shared another message: there will come a day when you won't have all A's, a time when you make a mistake, a time when you hurt me or yourself -- a time when you really screw up.
The most important thing to remember is that on that day -- your mom and I will love you, accept you and be as proud of you as we are today.
On a slightly different slant -- the words of writer Loree Harell -- to the parents of young girl, though it applies to boys as well.
Please, somehow don't demand
that your daughter obey you
against her will
because if she learns that
too well,
she will obey others
against her will.
Teach her to trust
what her body knows.
It does know,
and will tell her,
through the hormone scream,
what is right
for her.
Don't require
that she need your approval.
She will need everyone's.
Teach her to believe
what she knows to be true.
Even when it doesn't match
what you want,
what you want for her.
This isn't about you.
Know she will make mistakes,
that she will know
when she has, and that
the only mistakes that matter
are the ones that hurt her,
not the ones that disappoint
you.
Don't make her pay
for how you were at her age.
She is not you.
Remember this is not your story,
it is hers.
She gets to write it,
she has to edit it finally,
to know what to take out, and
what is essential and can't be changed.
It is pure gift of trust
when she asks your feedback
on the draft.
Know that sometimes
she will make you nuts,
hurt you, make you mad,
show all the good sense
of a wombat on acid.
Trust her anyway.
Don't forget
this is a whole human being,
not an appendage of you.
You can quit protecting her now.
She has already made mistakes you don't know about.
She will make more.
Let's try this again.
This person is whole.
You can no longer mold her,
not with your anger or violence or shunning
or shame. This person is whole.
But if you can find the love
to stand with her as equals
together, she will ask you
to help polish the edges
and walk next to her home.
She is better, she is stronger
than you dared believe.
Trust her.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Belize: here we come
The Oregonian is accepting photos in its annual travel photo contest. First place is a trip to Belize.
Three catagories: I will enter this one in Oregon places.
Titled: Reflections on clamming
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Will I ever talk again?
Drat.
A cold.
I had been doing so well for so long.
A cold carries psycho baggage for me for a couple of reasons.
Back when I was in radio it meant going to work and sounding like crap.
That always created a sense of anxiety.
Perhaps an irrational sense of anxiety. When I was a little boy, I picked up a book on legendary sports broadcaster Red Barber. Among his hundreds of stories was the tale of broadcasting one time with a cold.
During the middle of his broadcast, his voice cracked.
Then -- nothing, just squeaking air.
He went to a nationally recognized throat physician who said he might never talk again due to the strain of broadcasting with a cold.
For 90 days, he was instructed, he must not try to utter a word.
Finally, slowly, his speech returned.
I thought of that story every time I felt an itch in my throat.
More recently, the first touch of an illness sparks terror of a disturbance in the force.
This is based on the theory that one's physical health is a portal to one's inner health.
''Oh my god, I have a cold -- my chakras must be out of alignment!"
I need to relax -- no, I am stressed, no relaxed, oh my god, I must be more stressed than I realized. Oh my god, I must be unaware…..oh no my internal monitors are askew ...arggghhhghhh.''
So here I am, sipping CALM tea from TAZO and trying to center.
Trying to imagine my white blood cells playing a Ms. Pac man game with viral bad guys.
Do do do
Doo do doo
Doodle le doodle le do.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Monday, January 15, 2007
Saturday, January 13, 2007
Friday, January 12, 2007
Reflections on the Dream - 2007
Today is an important day.
A day to remember our core values.
A day to remember our dreams.
To live...
As Dr. King said…
in a nation where our children they will not be judged by the color of their skin
but by the content of their character.
And if I may, also suggest, to not be judged by where they call home.
When the citizens of Clackamas County opened their arms and their hearts when news that Katrina survivors may need shelter,
There were voices that judged us -- not by our character, but by where we lived, by the color of our skin.
Voices that suggested we would not be appropriate hosts to fellow humans in need.
Let me say -- as a proud Clackamas County resident,
I took exception.
I am proud of Clackamas County --
For its beauty
For its collection of small and diverse communities.
For the lack of hesitation to open its arms to others in need.
We are -- as President Carter noted -- NOT a melting pot
but a beautiful mosaic.
Different people,
different beliefs,
different yearnings,
different hopes,
But let us share in the dream.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Too little, too late - Congress, time to do your job
Top Ten Features of Bush's New Iraq Plan
10. Make the war best two-out-of-three
9. Blame it on that crazy New York gas leak
8. Convene blue-ribbon study group; ignore recommendations
7. Consult with Rumsfeld, who's now working as a casino greeter
6. Sit on ass until January 2009; let Hillary figure it out
5. Send Cheney to Baghdad with a shotgun
4. Tax cuts for the rich
3. Put Giants coach Tom Coughlin in charge of enemy, watch them collapse
2. Raise money for escalation by robbing Mick Jagger's apartment
1. Dig up Saddam and execute him again
10. Make the war best two-out-of-three
9. Blame it on that crazy New York gas leak
8. Convene blue-ribbon study group; ignore recommendations
7. Consult with Rumsfeld, who's now working as a casino greeter
6. Sit on ass until January 2009; let Hillary figure it out
5. Send Cheney to Baghdad with a shotgun
4. Tax cuts for the rich
3. Put Giants coach Tom Coughlin in charge of enemy, watch them collapse
2. Raise money for escalation by robbing Mick Jagger's apartment
1. Dig up Saddam and execute him again
Saturday, January 06, 2007
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Meeting President Ford
My evening with President Ford
It was a warm night in Medford. The temperatures in southern Oregon remained moderate well into the autumn. It was political season and the National Republican Party had targeted this congressional district.
Earlier in the year, the Republican Party provided the local congressional candidate with a television endorsement by then-California governor Ronald Reagan. Unfortunately for the candidate, Reagan mispronounced the local candidates name several times. The campaign decided to run the TV ads anyway. It became quite the laughing stock. Eventually they were pulled.
Now the Republican Party recruited former President Gerald Ford to help with the local candidate.
The former president's plane was late. About a half dozen reporters were waiting at the Jackson County airport. It was late. Most of us radio reporters also did the "morning drive time" news. That meant getting out of bed at 4 a.m. in order to broadcast the 6 a.m. newscast. For me, it meant going to bed before 9 p.m. This media event was cutting into my beauty sleep.
Finally the private aircraft landed. President Ford was the first one out and into the airport. He was wearing an open collared shirt with a nicely woven plaid jacket over it. I remembered how he was famous for smoking a pipe -- there were several small burn holes on the jacket.
It was as if he had just gotten up from a nap. He was blinking into the news cameras. Somehow it seemed as if he didn’t expect media to greet him. As a pro, he adjusted quickly -- though his speech was even slower than his normal slow pace.
He was introduced to the local candidate. My guess is that Ford was flying around the country as a good Republican and lending his name to candidates he had never heard of.
In those days, I took special pride in crafting questions for those folks of notable status. I would try to mold my question around a concept that would require a qualitative response -- as well as lend itself to a general conclusion in the answer's premise.
In this case, I figured the Ford hadn't a clue who he was endorsing this evening -- doubtful he even knew what town he had just flown into.
So I asked, "Mr. President, just how much do you have to know about a candidate before you endorse him?"
Ford looked at me. His eyes not initially focused -- sort of an away look. Then the eyes come back into focus.
His years of public speaking made him know that a qualitative answer was required.
So he said, "I have to know that the candidates I endorse are going to do a good job in their elected office. In this case I know that Mr. Lausman here is a Republican -- and that alone means he will be a better candidate than the current incumbent Democrat."
Well, it was an answer somewhat based on the truth.
We chatted some more about what he had been doing since being defeated by Jimmy Carter. He said he was enjoying his time with his wife Betty and got in a lot more golf.
Finally, he wandered away with only a few bored Secret Service agents to an awaiting car. Off he went to spend the night in Medford.
Off I went to bed.
In those early reporting years in Medford, I met several notable folks. Medford was the only major population center south of Eugene. Therefore – even though it was a small town -- politicians routinely stopped there.
During my five years there, I had the chance to interview Presidents Reagan and Bush, Vice President Mondale, actor Vincent Price, and activists Gloria Steinem and Angela Davis.
More stories on those later.
It was a warm night in Medford. The temperatures in southern Oregon remained moderate well into the autumn. It was political season and the National Republican Party had targeted this congressional district.
Earlier in the year, the Republican Party provided the local congressional candidate with a television endorsement by then-California governor Ronald Reagan. Unfortunately for the candidate, Reagan mispronounced the local candidates name several times. The campaign decided to run the TV ads anyway. It became quite the laughing stock. Eventually they were pulled.
Now the Republican Party recruited former President Gerald Ford to help with the local candidate.
The former president's plane was late. About a half dozen reporters were waiting at the Jackson County airport. It was late. Most of us radio reporters also did the "morning drive time" news. That meant getting out of bed at 4 a.m. in order to broadcast the 6 a.m. newscast. For me, it meant going to bed before 9 p.m. This media event was cutting into my beauty sleep.
Finally the private aircraft landed. President Ford was the first one out and into the airport. He was wearing an open collared shirt with a nicely woven plaid jacket over it. I remembered how he was famous for smoking a pipe -- there were several small burn holes on the jacket.
It was as if he had just gotten up from a nap. He was blinking into the news cameras. Somehow it seemed as if he didn’t expect media to greet him. As a pro, he adjusted quickly -- though his speech was even slower than his normal slow pace.
He was introduced to the local candidate. My guess is that Ford was flying around the country as a good Republican and lending his name to candidates he had never heard of.
In those days, I took special pride in crafting questions for those folks of notable status. I would try to mold my question around a concept that would require a qualitative response -- as well as lend itself to a general conclusion in the answer's premise.
In this case, I figured the Ford hadn't a clue who he was endorsing this evening -- doubtful he even knew what town he had just flown into.
So I asked, "Mr. President, just how much do you have to know about a candidate before you endorse him?"
Ford looked at me. His eyes not initially focused -- sort of an away look. Then the eyes come back into focus.
His years of public speaking made him know that a qualitative answer was required.
So he said, "I have to know that the candidates I endorse are going to do a good job in their elected office. In this case I know that Mr. Lausman here is a Republican -- and that alone means he will be a better candidate than the current incumbent Democrat."
Well, it was an answer somewhat based on the truth.
We chatted some more about what he had been doing since being defeated by Jimmy Carter. He said he was enjoying his time with his wife Betty and got in a lot more golf.
Finally, he wandered away with only a few bored Secret Service agents to an awaiting car. Off he went to spend the night in Medford.
Off I went to bed.
In those early reporting years in Medford, I met several notable folks. Medford was the only major population center south of Eugene. Therefore – even though it was a small town -- politicians routinely stopped there.
During my five years there, I had the chance to interview Presidents Reagan and Bush, Vice President Mondale, actor Vincent Price, and activists Gloria Steinem and Angela Davis.
More stories on those later.
Friday, December 22, 2006
Hood
Today I have been looking out my fourth floor window in Oregon City.
There stands Hood.
For a moment, I am angry.
I look at it as a killer.
But then, I realize, it’s not a person. Not even a thing.
Just rocks and ice.
With kids and swimming pool deaths – I think it’s called an attractive nuisance.
Put a rock in a school play yard – what happens? Kids crawl on it.
Is it not primordial?Icarous trying to reach the sun.
I remember working for the City of Gresham and talking about our fire fighters. We talked about the danger.
One old-timer scoffed and said, of course it’s dangerous. Why do you think they love it? Otherwise it would just be big boys playing with water.
I look back at Hood.
So many feelings.
Knowing that two perished there.
That I am looking at someone’s…grave.
But also, I am looking at someone’s self-selected demise, to the extent one voluntarily and recreationally puts themselves in harms way.
Rather than say, in a convoy around the world.
Hood is also a choice.
Hood is freedom.
The freedom to choose.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Monday, December 18, 2006
Thursday, December 14, 2006
The tradition continues -- Ricky places an ornament
The Food Network's latest star
Catie is not one to be kept from a vision. She made the cookies by herself when everyone else was tied up. Here she is mixing colors and frosting. I love her focus and determination.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Friday, December 08, 2006
Sunday, December 03, 2006
Christmas 2006 --
One of the things I've learned about taking photos with my phone is to take advantage of the low resolution.
Here is a case where the low rez camera can't process with precision the lights at the Woodburn Outlet Mall. It results in an artistic blurring.
Ah for a better camera at this moment.
Saturday, December 02, 2006
Portrait of the artist in waiting
So what does a performer do while waiting to go onstage? As a dad, it was really neat to see my son using something I taught him for social engagement.
Ricky is at the Canby Fine Arts Building waiting for his part in The Best Christmas Ever
Friday, December 01, 2006
A limo drive to a birthday party
Ricky and friends head off in a stretch Hummer for a birthday party.
When I was a kid, we pinned a tail on a donkey and watched Viewmaster slides.
Monday, November 27, 2006
Sunday, November 26, 2006
Our old pal Melissa
Now co-owner of a winery.
At the end of a long 2006 season.
Great to see you and Doug again.
Friday, November 24, 2006
I never thought I would do this
This is a line.
A line at Canby Fred Meyer.
On the day after Thanksgiving.
At 4:55 am.
There was...a sense of community to it.
A tribal experience.
I walked into the electronics department and saw a person with 3 discounted TVs in her cart.
Some folks almost seemed to have a panic about them -- there were products being sold out...so I've got to get them first.
For a moment I thought --gosh I need to run around and....buy something.
So I bought some socks.
Saturday, November 18, 2006
Best Part of the Ducks 2006 Season
Tailgating -- in this photo, inside Randy and Manson's heated tent.
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