Who knew that I’d take a request from a friend in Hoots and recent Twitter convert.

Here you go, going out to The Businator.

Happy Fat Tuesday!

I think I’m going back to Memphis soon, but life right now is not knowing one day from the next. It’s a bit disconcerting at times but it is what it is.

I know one thing I do need. I need a new outfit, a new bouncy haircut and a fruffy drink with an umbrella in it. Sometimes I’m such a girl.

So, as today has been me dropping plates and glasses, spilling an entire Sprite, wistfully thinking of idealism over practicalities and, as of last night, standing at a fire, you know, the ones I used to cover when I was in print and broadcast news with a spring in my step, I’ll get a good night’s sleep and start another day.

They saved a puppy from the flames that went up 20 feet into the air in the house. I find that to be just wonderful, as I stood in the ice watching the firemen battle the flames despite the cold wet, the family apparently standing under umbrellas watching their home go up in flames with the harsh irony that the ice was coming down and could not save their home. Tongue and groove homes tend to go up fast the fire chief told me as we stood watching it burn.

No one could save it, but their dog is alive and they looked grateful.

I made a huge realization from watching this scene unfold.

Despite these gray days with frozen water beating us down, I’m still lucky because I have another day without the hardships that they are facing.

I have to remind myself of these things sometimes.

I don’t have a picture of their puppy, but I do have one of Mabel which is always of the good.

This is my mother. She’s the blonde standing up. I’m assuming this is around 1960

The dresses are cracking me up because mom liked jeans more than anything. Anyway, she was the maternal parental unit.

Miss her everyday.

Thanks Mr. Dunlap. I’d never seen this photo before. Next up, I’m going to get a picture of her band to show you. Just need to find it.

That’s been me for a bit. January was a sumbitch as the locals say, but February always comes in, gray and relentless, to kick me in the patootie. Don’t get me wrong, it’s just regular February stuff. I was talking to Homer the sister this morning and we agreed that most people have a little S.A.D. during this time of the year. Will we see the sun again? My sister and I are like day and night, but we are similar when it comes to cold. We don’t like it and it gives us the blues. It is what it is. I am actually more of a fall person, but damn it all if I’m just a tad more emotional than usual, a bit more sensitive in February. What I end up doing is hiding out. This, my friends, is my hermit month where I feel I’m waiting for something although I have no idea what it is.

Some of you may or may not know about a new blog that some of us have been working on called Speak To Power. I’m pleased with it thus far. We have a vision and we are all getting our sea legs under us as we work toward a common goal of unity.

With that said, I also read this post by one of us this weekend and I had to put the computer down and walk away from the online world for a bit. What I mean is, that once you read something that hits you really hard, it’s best to just take a step back. I keep thinking of the chili because, as I’m his friend, I knew that this would happen. The chili was representative of more than words can express. There are real people behind each and every blog you read. Human beings that feel joy and pain, despair and happiness. It’s our curse and our gift that we must endure such extremes.

It reminded me of, when my mother died 12 years ago this very month, that I sat in her closet, smelling her clothes and wondering what was to become of us.

What would we do?

I’m gonna tell you, I wonder about that each and every February.

The snow finally arrived late today and there were those few moments of giddiness as snow has not visited us much since Homer and my childhood years.  I do not know if it will stick, but I do believe that it makes the world brighter, like it’s cleaning the ground and hugging the trees.

Maybe the snow whispers to us that spring will eventually come back by giving us a clean, white slate.

We were going through a very local, and contentious, fight about school consolidation at that time.  It was ugly and I mean downright vicious. People would shout at commission meetings, it took up pretty much all of  my time as a very young, and arrogant, buck reporter at the local radio station. These guys made teabaggers look like puppies because this was personal and it was local. One night the room was so full that I ended up having to sit in the the chair of the county executive (they are now called mayors) while he squeezed into a very tight table of 20 commissioners, all on different sides of the issue. It was a warm evening and as people came in from their day jobs at the field, or from the factories, the room smelled a bit ripe with sweat and anger.

It was one of the few times in my life that not only could you feel the coils of hostility, but you could smell fury. Don’t mess with people’s community, church or kids and that was the elephant that protesters brought into the room.

The meeting wasn’t that much different than many of them during that particular issue. There was shouting, an occasional fist wave and I remember one particular commissioner, who I won’t name, looking pretty much terrified. These people were angry that the commission wanted to shut down four of six high schools. They saw their communities potential deaths with that action, which came down to countywide matching funding and having to accommodate bonds bricks and mortar projects as well as maintaining what we already had..  Proponents felt two larger schools would give more opportunity and extra state funding. Some of the older schools were in disrepair and they knew that it was going to cost hand over fist to get them up to code. And this was long before the recession that we are undergoing now hit.

It was a dilemma.

Nothing was really resolved that night and the meetings would continue for weeks with much the same results. I remained neutral even though I did have an opinion which doesn’t matter now. I edited sound diligently every night (on carts, you old time radioheads and even won a few awards for my efforts) and each morning we would have those one to two minute soundbites. As it continued, we broadcast the meetings live because it was all that anyone was talking about.

It was the big news.

On that particular night, Westbrook, who is one of those bulldog politicians with a booming voice who can roll his eyes at what he perceives to be unseemliness very easily, tried to make the peace that night because he realized that no one was in the mood to talk. I don’t remember everything he said as he had the floor, but basically it was that no one was going to be able to have a conversation when they were mad as rip and that everyone needed to clear their heads.

That’s the way things are done here in Hoots.

After the meeting, I asked for a quote to use on the next day’s broadcast, which he gave me. After I had put the mic away, I asked him if this was ever going to get better. I was exhausted, the commissioners were exhausted but more importantly, the entire county was worn the hell out from the sheer emotion of it all.

“The thing is that we all need to live together. After any bit of politicking, you need to be in the right mind, that even if you disagreed on something completely, to be able to sit down and have a cup of coffee or a beer with that person you were arguing with before. That’s the way things work. Some times you are going to win, and other times you are going to lose, but we still live together. We forget that sometimes.”

“Do you think we will ever get back to that point?” I asked.

“I do, but I also want you to know that if you are able to have that cup of coffee,” he said. “Then the other sides knows you mean business when you pick a battle you believe is worth winning.”

That’s how I remember it. My grandfather, who was a republican, taught that lesson as well although he died nearly a decade before the consolidation issue hit the county. I guess those were just different times.

We all have to live together.

The issue, as controversial things do, winded down after time. Other issues replaced that one but maybe with not the fervor that the school one did.

I learned something from both men at different times in my life.

So if you were ever wondering, that’s where I came from. You may disagree with me sometimes, but I’ll buy you a cup of coffee and we’ll talk about it.

We can at least figure it out if we are having a conversation because, as they said, we have to live together despite it all.

As you know, on the 2nd day of this new year, tragedy struck our beloved friend Steve in Memphis. I’ve written before I’ve never seen such love and devotion in a group of people, from other bloggers to friends (new and permanent for me I hope) and family gathering around this fine man to help him go through this tragedy. Watching the pain and found glimpses of joy in the ruins was awe-inspiring. The idea of even writing an AAB during this time seemed unseemly to me. It was about others and not me. And it taught me valuable lessons as I sit here three weeks later looking back at the events in this new year. During times of tragedy, you see what people are made of that you’ve known but are given more depth to. The quiet strength of bloggers Dabney and Glen, the continual presences of Rick Maynard and Jon Carroll, who were always there when Steve needed them, Smack who continued to smile for us when we could not, the big heart of Ross (who would most likely call me an ass for letting  you know that he’s absolutely one of the best guys around) and the words of other bloggers around the state who checked in, wanting to help knowing that all they could do was send words of support and love for our friend.

And it continues, Steve beamed last week when Chris Davis brought him a roast after the immediate dishes that came after the funeral were long gone. It was just what he needed as the reality continues to hit him.

Strength and kindness from around the state and in Memphis was amazing and it continues.

The day that we got the news about Lauren, some things had happened here in Hoots that pretty much wrote the writing on the wall that our lives were fixing to change here too. In Ernest Hemingway’s novel, For Whom The Bell Tolls, talks of death not only of those we love but of times in our lives that have come to an end or at least that’s how I remember it. I’ve thought about that book a lot lately.

How as much as we fight to protect what we have, it might not be enough.

I’m having to make some changes, as Pilar said in For Whom The Bell Tolls, because I have been “deaf to the music” about things going on here in Hoots. She says, “One who is deaf cannot hear the music …”

I have been deaf.

I realize this sitting here with a cup of coffee that is getting cold next to me as this $300 laptop sits on my lap. I’ve been deaf because I thought it was going to be okay, and although it will be, I’m going to have to make huge and massive changes quickly where their will be separation and loss of a life that I’ve led for nearly 20 years here in Hoots. If you are wondering, I’m terrified. Leaving the familiar to something completely unknown is astonishingly frightening, especially because I feel all of my 44 years right now. It wasn’t supposed to be this way but it is. Life doesn’t always go down the path you thought it would. I tried to make it a go here in my beloved Hoots, but it’s just not going to happen I’m afraid. I will take the first steps in rebuilding what has been lost.

Since being downsized last year, things have changed and it is time for me to, as I say to other people and usually politicians, to control my own story. Hopefully you will join me in this quest that will probably start soon. I will be in a new locale shortly and with that, I will be looking at new opportunities, working my p/t day job for a man I do believe in and serve coffee or tend bar at night to make sure the bills get paid.  There is no blame, it just is what it is.

This is a different world from that one of my parents and you do what you have to do.

So there will be more to say in the coming months. And I will say it because you know how I am.

Am I scared? You betcha.

And was this hard to write? More than you will ever know, my friends, more than I can express into words.

That pretty much sums up how I got into blogging. I just did it for better or worse. And it’s been pretty wonderful.

Anytime there is a date or a moment that goes under the title of ‘birfday’ it falls into a time of some sort of reflection. I don’t think I celebrated the blog’s birthday last year now that I think about it. I made reference on Twitter and went about my day.

Mabel

Some of the changes I’ve seen in blogging have somewhat boggled my mind. I watch Christian Grantham’s Morning Browser quite a bit, and he is celebrating his 10th blog anniversary today.  Several of us chatted at his site about some of the changes in blogging. I thought about this after the show ended and thought that I would give all seven of you some things I’ve observed over the past four years. CG has his observations about the last 10.

• When I started blogging, it was purely for fun. I had no expectations. The first person I linked to was Aunt B. The funny thing is that I never thought I’d meet her. Now, I would venture to say, she is one of my best buddies who I talk to offline as well. I also think it was a different time four years back. We wanted a community in this state and we went for it, despite not knowing what to expect. Some of those roots, defined by our blogging personalities, have been set in stone.
• We linked more several years ago because that let other bloggers know not only that we were reading them, but that we had their backs. We don’t do this as much now. It’s a part of the initial phases of blogging I miss and I hope to rectify that on my part immediately. Now our comments and feedback go to Twitter which isn’t so bad. It’s an immediate form of communicating our feedback, although I still feel like I win a prize when I get a comment or someone buys me a beer on the PayPal button (Blogging ain’t gonna make you any do-re-mi, campers. As a matter-of-fact, if you decide to go whole hog, it will cost you money just like any other hobby.)
• We adapt to new things and Twitter is definitely a new thing. Still shocks me that I’m moving on my third year this upcoming March over there.  I joined Twitter because I am a lemming and Rex Hammock/Jackson Miller were talking about it.  If you sit in a room with those two, I swear your IQ points go up.
• How has the interwebz changed? My dad is farming like a maniac on Facebook. I think that speaks volumes.
• Quick note: On Christmas Eve and Christmas Day I was in two locations that had no broadband access whatsoever. So if you wonder why I advocate for this issue, I think that also speaks volumes. One of these locations has two boys in middle school. They are going to need the Internet sooner rather than later..
• I kidded a lot last month I wasn’t a niche blogger per se. In the long run seeing the changes in blogging, I think this, sadly, may have hurt me long term. Just an observation as I guess I’m an old-school type of blogger. I like niche blogs though although this isn’t one of them. You see wonderful ideas that have skyrocketed like Home Ec 101 or anything that Kate O does, which is guaranteed wonderful.
• I wish to thank Michael Silence and Scott Adcox. They know why. I adore them both.
• I remember when I’d get 25 unique views a day back in my first few months and was pretty damned happy about it. I thought I’d hit the big time.
• I’ve always said that if Newscoma every became tedious, I would quit blogging. It’s just been this past year that I’ve seriously thought about setting down the mouse. I think that had to do with the unemployment blues. I’m glad you stuck it out with me during the “blue” period. I’m glad I stuck it out too. Let’s  hope that 2010 smiles down on Chez Coma and that this year gives us groovy and nifty full-time employment.
• If you were wondering, my favorite posts this year had to do with Mr. Jimmy who is awesome and what I learned over a beer and conversations in Hoots. I also like Dirk Diggler stories.
• If I haven’t mentioned all of you, I should. You guys are great.

So that’s on my mind this morning. I don’t know what the next year will bring, but it’s been a ride that I’ve enjoyed.

Today is the 4th anniversay of Newscoma. In blog years, much like dog years, this blog is most likely on Medicaid. I will be celebrating all day. If  you like little old ‘Coma’s home on the web, sign up for the pesky RSS feed, drop a beer in the bucket on the PayPal (which will go towards a Flip so I can show you some of Hoots) or follow me on Twitter. I’m also on Facebook but that’s a political free zone, my friends.

Thanks for visiting over the past four years and I want you to know I truly appreciate you hanging out over the past four.

I’m compiling a Hoots anthology, so if there is a post that you’d like to see go in one of those old-fashioned things made out of paper, leave a comment or a link to the post in the comments. You can help be my editor if you are so inclined.

And, once again, I’m humbled and grateful you and I have gotten to know each other.

Thank you so much.

That’s enough of that. I am a true believer you don’t give people the crud when you’ve got it. First, they don’t appreciate it and secondly, it isn’t cool. I’ve felt like Typhoid Mary for the past couple of months, dagnabbit.

I’ve been thinking of expectations, inner perceptions and reality a lot lately. I’ve also been dealing with a little bit of writer’s block that has been floating in the midst of my cranium for several months. We will see if this is chronic as time tends to answer those questions.

We are hunting kerosene in Chez Coma as the heat decided to go kaput earlier this week. That problem is being looked at but it’s a bit crazy as we careen toward the holidays. I have been thinking that all my friends just need to come over and cuddle with us, but that wouldn’t really fly in Hoots Common, no matter how innocent it might be presented. Although the look on people’s faces when I tell them, “Can we have a Cuddle Party?” might amuse me to no end. I love shocked indignation especially when I participate in creating that look. Cuddle Parties also tend to be cheaper than heating unit fixing bills, Christmas and therapy.

January 1st will be just another day but I’m hoping that the year will prove to be profitable and fancy. I think we need some fancy around this joint. It would make the place all spiffy.

Bear And I Kept Grinning Through 2009

So, not a lot going on other than we are a bit closer to Christmas, there’s no heat and I was looking forward to a Christmas parade today. With that said, I’ve drank a gallon of Gatorade brought to me by the wonderful Squirrel Queen and I’m heading back to bed.

Still seeking sausage balls but have decided to be self-reliant and make those sumbitches myself. I’m clever that way.

I could use a few days of this

I guess if I could play the guitar I would write a song somewhat like this. Sometimes these things hit you out of nowhere and the only thing a person can do is just look the elephant in the room in the face and admit it’s there. Grief is an odd thing and can hit you in various strange ways. And I do believe that this is what I’m going through. Grief for what was because, guys, sometimes you have to figure these things out which isn’t always easy even months later.

I admit it all hit me in the past week during Thanksgiving and as we head into a month of holiday revelry. Except, my dear readers, I’m not feeling very peppy and I need to process some things. I’ve always said I’m too lazy for an affair for my mid-life crisis, I’m too broke for a fancy sports car and I’m too insecure to go skydiving (and in my weird state of mind this week, I could guarantee you the damn shoot wouldn’t open.)

I own it, I’m still overwhelmed by 2009. Sometimes it’s just best to write these things out to get through them, I guess.

There is a lot I want to say right now before I throw myself into the Hoots essays book which I most likely will self-publish. Squirrel Queen is helping me out because she is truly one of the most wonderful people on this planet. She is a kind, patient woman as I’m usually a psychotic mess. She finds good in things during those times that I feel like that light at the end of the tunnel isn’t ever going to show up.

So I’m working on it. I do love Hoots even though I constantly look at moving, which is coming closer to being a reality unless something gives.

But there are good things and wonderful people that I know that continue to put up with me, knowing that I’ve been Mary Sunshining it for about a month. There are a lot of people who have had a bad year, who have lost their jobs and I realize I’ve been very fortunate not to stay unemployed for very long. This my friends, is of the good.

So I just navel-gazed here on Newscoma. I don’t feel good about it but I don’t feel bad about it either.

Life is what it is. And I already feel better just writing this out. Now I guess I need to get better making sure 2010 doesn’t suck like this year has.

So enough whining on me being a bit freaked out. Go here. It cheers me up and it will you too.

Yeah, that’s about right.

I’ve been thinking about expectations that we put on ourselves. We spend a day with our families, taking several days to prepare for the day ahead of time. We rush to get to different places, we set the expectations of what we are supposed to do and how to do it. Then we get to our location only to find that we might, and probably should, let these people in our lives know the other 364 days of the year how we feel about them. Yet, we live in a society that sometimes frowns, or at least emasculates and mocks, the showing of affection.

Got deep on you there, didn’t I.

So, let me tell you about things that make me thankful on the day after Thanksgiving.

• I’m thankful for my friends. The close ones and the acquaintances that put up with me, that I live being with and who act like they like being with me.
• I uploaded pictures from my Blackberry onto Flickr yesterday that I liked and SQ’s mom was complimenting some of them, which made me feel good. I like it when someone is kind to me about my silly distractions. My goal is to continue this action with someone else because it feels nice. Nice isn’t bad, campers.
  

  You are beautiful. Remember That When You Want Out

• I got all wiggy yesterday in my head. You see, in the morning I accompanied the boss to an event in Bradford where 400 meals were prepared for shut-ins and people who were alone on Thanksgiving. It was quite wonderful as a bunch of people showed up to help from politicians to bikers (who delivered the plates) to little old ladies. One of the little old ladies was enamored with the bikers’ leather chaps, which was charming and we met a soldier who was heading to the Middle East next week who just wanted to help out.  But later in the day, I became somewhat obsessed about people spending the holidays alone. It bothered me. I talked to the boss who called late in the afternoon to thank Squirrel Queen and I for going to the event that morning and talked to him about the morning.  He said, “Maybe you need to talk to folks who are doing this in Hoots. Find out if someone is doing it, and if they aren’t, then you help make the change.” For the record, I don’t think I’ve ever had a boss call me on a holiday to say Thanks. You know, that meant a lot to me. And it was good advice. So thanks back at you, Bossman.
• Because I am a day late and a dollar short, I just saw my first James Bond movie with Daniel Craig. He is badass.
• I have reconnected with some friends and members of my family on Facebook. That’s pretty cool. Pretend for a moment that you aren’t snarky about social media programs like Facebook and how that really makes a difference when you’ve lost touch. Especially on a holiday when your traditional family is visiting other family members that don’t get to see a lot. You do feel connected.
• Beer. Just cause I like it.
• This list from Big Stupid Tommy which is very similar to my own.

So we live, we learn, we find out new things.

I realize that there is always a story underneath what appears on the surface. Maybe I should go find Mr. Jimmy and see what he has to say about life. He tends to enlighten me when I can’t find the way even though he doesn’t know he does.

That’s why things work. We don’t know when we make a difference with other people.

And maybe that’s the point.