Musician's Widow

Photo by Eddie~S

So Punxsutawney Phil has informed us that its 6 more weeks of winter. Like almost all of my Facebook friends, I can handle more of this kind of winter… mild temps that resemble Spring more than Winter.

I’m no meteorologist, but I think we still have a lot of Winter to go… it’s just going to be late. I could be wrong, but that’s my official non-meteorological opinion.

Groundhog day never ceases to amuse me, though. Even before I ever saw the movie Groundhog Day, I found particular amusement with this “holiday.”

A rodent is going to decide the weather. Uh-huh. Sure.

Of course, as a kid who liked playing outside, I’d root for rain that day, so no shadow would be seen and summer would come quicker. Some particularly long winters, I’d deep down hope this hocus pocus was real. Whatever happened on Feb. 2nd in Pennsylvania would dictate if I’d be outside playing on the swings sooner or later.

Then, I saw the movie Groundhog Day and Feb. 2nd was never the same. It became more about if the day would repeat over and over again, versus if the groundhog saw his shadow. The movie made the day even more amusing than it was before!

Life is so serious, though. I think that’s why days like Groundhog Day are so endearing. What other day can a group of grown men wear top hats and see if a rodent can see his shadow? What other day can we all find this level of simple, lasting entertainment in the hum-drum days of winter? For me, Groundhog Day isn’t about the weather or a movie. It’s about finding a little bit of amusement in ourselves and our history.

Winter will end when it ends. The groundhog is going to go back to bed, pissed off he was awakened in the first place. And we’re all going to go back to the daily rhythm of things that we’ve grown accustomed to once again. But for today? Let’s have a little giggle.

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Photo Credit: Eddie~S

Last night, I watched The Big Waste on the Food Network. If you get a chance to see it in the next week (it airs again on Jan. 14th… check listings!), take the time to stop and watch.

Sure, its another timed cooking challenge between four chefs (Bobby Flay and Michael Symon versus Anne Burrell and Alex Guarnaschelli) that Food Network seems to thrive on these days. But this special is not about the challenge itself, its a staggering look at how much food we waste in this country every day.

I watched the show with a knot in my stomach, watching perfectly good food being just thrown out because of a blemish here or there. A box full of fresh fish on its way to the dumpster because the people that ordered it no longer needed it. Sweet corn ignored because the stalks got knocked over in high winds. Perfectly good, fresh, healthy food destined to just be thrown out with the garbage.

The show has made me rethink my shopping. I am not going to buy anything that will make me sick or that will go bad before I can eat it (that’s throwing money away), but if I can curb the waste by, say, purchasing a ripe tomato to use on my salad tonight (versus letting it sit there and ultimately be thrown out) then I am going to do that. It’s at least a step in the right direction.

Meanwhile, I hope perhaps some of the food that would normally go in the trash will eventually make its way to shelters. The homeless need a healthy meal, too. Why not donate the “unsellable” fruits and vegetables to a kitchen or shelter? I hope this show might start a push for that as well.

I had no idea what to expect when I sat down to watch “The Big Waste,” but I am sure glad I took the time to watch it. I learned a lot, and I felt ashamed of wasting food myself. I am going to make changes starting now.

I majored in journalism in college. I like to joke that I got my BS in BS. I worked in the field for over a year before I decided I didn’t like certain aspects of the job. My breaking point came about this time of year. I had to cover a car accident… where I had to stand on the side of the road, taking pictures and asking questions, while I could hear kids crying from inside the mangled car, and I could see Christmas presents stacked up in the back window. I felt like such a vulture.

I still love writing (as evidenced by writing a blog!) and I still love many aspects of journalism!

However, this week I was presented with something I hate about the job: getting the scoop at the expense of anyone and anything.

My university, Texas A&M, fired their head football coach this week. I started reading the rumblings about it as a possibility already Wednesday night. Twitter is a great place to get the “scoop” — but keeping in mind that what you’re reading is primarily rumors. Sure, I know the people to follow whose rumors tend to be spot-on. But at the end of the day, they are rumors and discussion.

I look to newspapers — the media — to report the facts as they happen.

I repeat. AS THEY HAPPEN.

Thursday, the Twitter-verse exploded after a blog post was run on the Austin American Statesman’s website, stating that “Mike Sherman will be fired as Texas A&M’s head coach either later today or early Friday morning, the American-Statesman has learned.”

WILL BE FIRED. Not has been fired. But will be fired. Information given by an anonymous source. In comments, the defense of the article came that its not anything Aggies hadn’t been discussing as rumors the day before.

In a statement from Sherman after he had been fired, he stated, “It was disappointing to me because my family found out before I did, because it was released (through a leak in the media) before I was told. I think we’re better than that.”

I can easily point fingers at the anonymous source as being out of line leaking the information to the media. I hope this source is found out and reprimanded, because this move makes the university look horrible.

But in the same breath, getting the scoop and running it in the media offended Sherman. And, forgive me, but to me this goes against the Journalism Code of Ethics. Specifically to Minimize Harm. Ethical journalists treat sources, subjects and colleagues as human beings deserving of respect. Running an article that someone is going to be fired before they’ve actually been fired leaves me sick to my stomach. Can you imagine opening the newspaper and reading that you’re going to be fired. Or that your spouse is about to lose their job?? Can you imagine the punch in the gut?

It leaves me angry and sickened!

Past that… what if last minute they decided to hold off on the firing. Either not do it, or at the very least wait until after the bowl game. Suddenly you’ve run a misleading piece, done harm, and you’re left with egg all over your face. It’s just irresponsible.

Yes, this is a blog report, not an “official article.” But its run on the Austin American Statesman website. The post reads as an article. Its my opinion, it should be held to the same code of ethics as any other piece run on that newspaper site.

This Sunday is a somber anniversary. The anniversary of 9/11. It seems the question everyone has been asking this week has been, “Do you remember that day?” Oh yes, I do remember. Luckily, I wrote a detailed journal entry that evening, documenting my day for my own memories. I thought perhaps I would share my story today, as we lead into this weekend of remembering.

Written at 12:53 am, September 12th, 2001:

Photo by Jackie (Sister72 on Flickr) on 9.11.05

I went to school today like usual. I got good parking, sat and waited awhile, then went to my 8 AM class. Little did we all know, that as my professor began to speak on Media Economics… the American Stockmarket was screeching to a halt… as did America’s sanity.

 I walked to my next class with a new friend. We laughed about having fallen asleep in the previous class, swapped stories about the previous weekend. We were oblivious to the blank expressions on many people around us.

 In the next class there was a somber buzz. Words like “airplanes” and “World Trade Center” swirled around. “New York City” and “Washington DC” were used side by side. “Terrorists” and “Americans” used in opposition.

 I could not comprehend the seriousness of the situation, and even the fact that my professor promised to let us out early didn’t really register. Something major had happened, and yet it was still too unclear for me to pay much attention.

 The professor, who always keeps us late, released us half-an-hour early to go watch TV and find out what was happening now.

 I couldn’t’ decide what to do… I was out early and had the rest of the day ahead of me. I decided to go to the library to study. I am behind in my homework and needed to get to work. I grabbed a table at the coffee shop, and started getting organized. Around 11:00, the shop started selling sandwiches, and I got a turkey sandwich, a bag of chips and a coke. I sat down to eat, and the girl at the next table turned on her cell phone.

 I ate, reading homework, and eavesdropped. She was speaking to someone about two women she knows that worked at the WTC who had not yet been accounted for. She’d let them know when she knew something. My curiosity was piqued, but I still paid little attention.

 She left and someone else sat down. The couple was talking about people they knew that worked at the WTC; they were all okay, thankfully.

 All through this, I kept picking up my cell phone. Waiting for it to ring, and tempted to call my parents myself. I needed to know what had happened.

 I decided to wait. I finished lunch, and studied. A couple hours later, I had finished with that subject and I was sore and tired. I packed up my stuff, threw away my trash, and went over to the MSC.

 I entered the MSC, and found hundreds of students around a big screen TV set on CNN. There were too many people to get a clear picture of what was happening, so I went on to the bookstore… my intended destination. There was a small TV set up in there, also on CNN.

 It was there that I learned to true nature of this tragedy. I watched the footage of the second plane slam into the tower. I listened to the reporter give the run down. Then he said, “We have no way to know how many young children and teenagers were on those planes.”

 I physically doubled over as if I’d been punched. I was just in shock. How? Why? Who? WHY??? For that moment, my emotions were the most intense. I was fighting tears; I was fighting the urge to scream.

 I ended, however, simply in shock.

 I finished my shopping, and went back to the main room of the MSC. I joined a group watching CNN on the big screen TV. There I stood in silence with my school family. We all stood together in shock… A guy asked me what had happened, and I filled him in on what I knew.

 After awhile, I felt the need to leave. I needed to call my parents; I needed to get “home”.

 As I made my way across campus, I noted the flags at half-staff. I noticed that most of the corp of cadets now wore their dress uniforms. I noticed the muted attitude of all the students.

 I got home, and sat talking with my aunt for awhile. She filled me in on some of the stuff I was fuzzy about. Eventually, I got away to call my parents.

 They’d been waiting for me to call. At lunch they’d started trying to reach me, but the phone lines to College Station were too bogged down for them to get a free circuit to contact me through. I got a chill down my spin. It was the same time I’d been watching my cell phone, waiting for it to ring.

 We spoke for just under an hour… each filling the other in on what we knew. 

I saw on the news that there would be a prayer service at the campus, and I decided I would go. I needed to go. So, I filled my time on-line and watching the news until the time came to leave.

 To get to Reed Arena, where the service was to be held, I have to go around the campus, and get on George Bush Drive.  George Bush Drive was a parking lot. No one could get anywhere. I sat at one stop light for five lights. The guys in the truck beside me kept playing Chinese Fire Drill. We were all going a little crazy.

 I sat there for over 20 minutes before I gave up. I detoured off George Bush, and made my way back to University Drive. As I did this, I called my parents to let them know what was going on at the campus. They had just talked to [my brother], and they said he asked how I was doing. So I told them I’d call him. I stopped at Sonic on my way home.

 The gas stations were insane. I am quite thankful I have enough gas to carry me for quite awhile. I got back home, and called my brother. I think he was glad to hear from me. I was glad to hear his voice. He had my niece, and she kept getting fussy. He said she was telling me “hello.” That made me smile.

To be so oblivious to the tragedy. To be so oblivious to the drastic changes that have occurred in this world today… in just a few hours time.

There is an innocent beauty in that.

I have full classes tomorrow. I’m peeved in one way, and in another I’m relieved and proud of that fact. We will not let these terrorists stop us. We will continue on as always. We will triumph.

 For now, though, I remain numb… perhaps a bit nauseous, too. It makes me ill thinking about this. I need to go to bed, but the chances of sleep coming any time soon are slim.

Take care. God Bless. Call your family and friends. Let’s all join together… we will prevail in the end. We have to.

Where were you? Or please share your link in the comments to your own story from that day!

Over a year ago, I got a taste of a flood. My husband and I were spared from losing anything, but we watched as our fellow Nashvillians watched their homes be destroyed by rising waters.

Today, I sit from afar with my heart breaking over the wildfires in Texas. This drought… this horrible, horrible drought that I wrote about just a couple weeks ago left me with a fear… a fear that is being realized today. Already back in July, I looked around and thought, “One, just ONE carelessly tossed cigarette out of a car could destroy so many homes… could take lives.” The grass crinkled under your feet, parched and dry. It would only take a spark… only take a single spark.

This last weekend, a fire broke out in my hometown. It was, thankfully, contained without loss of life, but not without the loss of a home. It started due to a squirrel getting caught in an electrical wire… something that would make a person chuckle, or that would perhaps not be a big deal “normally” set off chaos and destruction.

When I read about the fire, my heart sank. The area of town being one I know well — one I could envision as vividly as if I was there — made the news so hard to take. I called immediately to find out what I could, to make sure others were okay. My greatest fears with this drought we being realized…

…then right on the heels of that came news of the Bastrop fire. I worried suddenly about anyone and everyone I know or knew who lived there. Were they okay?  I’ve watched the footage on TV. I’ve read many articles on-line. I’ve looked at countless images. They all tug hard at my heart. Reports of fires in California each year strike up an emotional response as well. I try to imagine being in the victims of the fires shoes. But the fear I’ve felt the last few days, as I watch Texas burn, just took that same emotional response and cranked it up to about a 15.

In an almost cruel irony, Nashville has had rain the past two/three days. Our temperatures setting new record low highs. I wished I could send the rain to Texas. I wished I could somehow capture it, and send it down in tanker trucks. I wished they’d just get a break already.

I feel so helpless… so lost on what I can do. I did at least (after several various Google searches) find this list of organizations working to help the victims of these fires. Many of these are for local assistance, but others have addresses where donations can be sent to help. I plan to do what I can to help from here. Perhaps I can hatch a plan of my own, but until then… I am grateful there are organizations out there with the means to help.

Let’s just look at that map for awhile.

I said awhile back with the extreme heat in Texas, “What? Is Texas the new Arizona?” I was joking, but as I stare at that map, I can’t help but wonder. It’s so hard to comprehend from here in Tennessee, where we’ve been blessed with rain through the summer. My yard is a lush, thick green carpet. The lake is nice a full. I’ve fallen asleep to a thunderstorm recently.

However, down in Texas, its a whole different story. The last time I was down, it was definitely already staggering how dry it was… and that was about a month ago, now. National news has been covering the drought here and there, but I know the news reports are nothing like being there in person. Temperatures have been 100+ for days on end, setting records. And the lakes… they’re hardly lakes.

I may be a Nashvillian now, but I am forever in my heart a Texan. And that same heart aches to see the footage of the drought. It aches for the many farmers who have lost their crops and who are losing their cattle due to lack of feed and water.  I don’t think much of the nation realizes what kind of economic impact this drought will have for a long, long time.

Water… its a natural resource we seem to take for granted. But right now, the people of Texas are crying out for it. They are desperate for rain. They are desperate for a break in the high temperatures. Cities that usually have plenty of water in reserve are having to tap into their back-up sources, further draining lakes. As I witness many watering their lawns here, I can’t help be think about those who are just hoping they’ll have water to drink in days and weeks to come down in Texas.

I ask, please, if you’re a believer in God… take this moment to say a short prayer for a break for the people of Texas (and for all those affected by the drought.) Pray for rain.

If you need help with that, beliefnet posted this prayer in July:

“God, you send rains in season. It is a season of need in Texas. Send more rain to that parched land and more again across all the thirsty southern states. Find a small and willing cloud sitting bored over some vacant part of the Caribbean, and give it a push toward Houston. Make a Hurricane, perhaps, not strong enough to destroy, but filled with warmed moisture and send it North. We ask you for rain. Let the drought unite many millions to ask you for help. We trust in you. You made the world to need the waters of heaven. You made the world to need the waters of life. You are the source of rain. We ask you. Let it rain. In Jesus name.”

If you are curious for more details about the drought, check out these articles:

• More Western towns adopt ‘toilet to tap’ strategy to conserve water
• Drought reminds us that water controls destiny
• Texas Farm Losses Reach Record $5.2 Billion After Drought, University Says
• The Long-Term Consequences of Texas’ Worst Ever Drought
• No relief in sight for deadly Texas drought conditions
• Texas Drought Will Harm Ecosystem for a Long Time [PHOTOS]