Blog Anniversary

This blog is one year old! Hooray!

What have I learned in a year? Quite a bit about journalism. I've learned how hard it is, how bad it sometimes is, and how good it can be. I've learned objectivity is an illusion, but still a goal, much as living a sin-free life is an illusion but something we still strive for.

This blog is called "My Iowa." I know I still love Iowa. It's not that I think it's the best place, or the most beautiful, or even that I want to live here forever. The fact is, I have a relationship with it. I'm just that kind of person. My year makes sense because I know when it's time for the fuzzy caterpillars and when the first snow is likely to fall. If I go a year without seeing the monarch butterflies that show up in late September, I am sad. A golden-brown bean field on the side of a hill is happiness, and home. Can soil and air seep into our DNA over the generations? I doubt it, but it does seem possible.

I've learned you can't explain everything to everyone. Some things are intuitive. The answers to some questions are both yes and no. Don't worry--I've not gone relativistic. It's just that I'm starting to get old enough to not be self-righteous anymore.

For me, believing whole-heartedly in something makes it easier to hear criticism of that thing, because I know in the end it can weather that criticism. So whether it's journalism, my home state, or my faith, I know what I believe in can take whatever you have to dish out. I've heard it all before. I'm even comfortable pointing out flaws in the things I love. I know nothing's perfect, but I also know when to stop apologizing.

Why I Love the Olive Garden

The Olive Garden: When you're here, you're family. Those words are not an empty promise. I've always liked the Olive Garden, but this week I realized just how marvelous it is. I know they are a chain restaurant, and some people look down their noses at chains, but that is snobbish and unfair. Not only is their food delicious, they have a wonderful "To Go" service.

Yesterday, after a long day of classes and work, I was starving. The thought of going home and reheating chicken casserole made me weary. "What I'd really like," I thought to myself, "is the Olive Garden." So I looked up their web site, found the number and proceeded to order myself a fettuccini alfredo dinner. I zipped over to pick it up twenty minutes later and found that ordering food to go from the Olive Garden has many benefits.

1. I received a dish of fettuccini roughly the size of a wheel cover.
2. I received a bin of salad the size of a medium shoebox.
3. Two lovely warm breadsticks.
4. An after-dinner mint.
5. All of these things were packed inside a large brown bag such as you receive at better retail stores. Handy for moving.
6. There were reserved parking spots just for people picking up orders.
7. The staff are friendly and exude charm just like in the commercials.
8. All of this could be had for only $8.75

Dear friends, if you can tell me of a time when you have received such wonderful service and value at a restaurant, I would be glad to hear it. But for now, the Olive Garden is my Jane Austen of restaurants--reliable, fulfilling and oh so flavorful.

Really? You don't say.

It's been said that the only thing people really like to read about is other people. Or, if it hasn't been said, I'm saying it now. We particularly like to read intimate details about other people's lives. So, I will indulge you. I've been on a campaign to be more social. The going is slow, but things are progressing. The fact that I have to make an effort to be nice to people should tell you a lot about me right off. It's not that I mean to be rude, at least not usually. I am just of a formal nature. I can't walk up to people and say things like, "Tom! What's going on? You are such a stranger--haven't seen you around the building." That would be impossible.

I am, however, working on saying things like this: "Hello Tom, how are you? That's good. How did the reporting assignment go?" But, the one thing I think I have going for me is that I am a sympathetic listener. At least, I can be if I turn it on. I widen my eyes, open my mouth a little and stare at the person, frequently furrowing my brows and nodding. I can look very interested and empathetic. People like that. Especially men. They like to have someone's rapt attention. This trick works in lectures, too. Professors always remember me.

I am always worried I will talk to people too long and they will wish I would go. It's odd that the thing I am afraid of is the thing I am least likely to do. Hmm, self-revelation is a good thing.

My friend Stephanie tells me I need to look people in the eye and smile. I'm trying. I guess I'm afraid people won't smile back. But I have a goal. My lofty goal is to become an inviting, warm and friendly person. I am well on my way with the sympathetic listening technique.

A Fine and Joyful Day

Today I got to wake up and wash my face. I had the privilege of eating a bowl of muesli for breakfast and chasing it with some filtered water. I had the distinct satisfaction of choosing an outfit from many colorful options. The bus graciously came to pick me up, and I was allowed to interact with other humans. I enjoyed the benefits of a public university, including lovely grounds and buildings. I was blessed with a tuna sandwich for lunch--it even had little onions cut up in it. The bus picked me up again (glorious convenience!) and I arrived home to bountiful technology and peaceful solitude until leaving for work in my fine automobile. When I get home again, I will indulge in a fantastic chocolate brownie, watch a fine television program and, finally, retire for slumber on my excellent Lebeda mattress.

Literal Answers to Advertising

"What would you do for a Klondike bar?" -- Nothing. The hard chocolate tastes funny and the ice cream is like snow.

"Just do it." -- What exactly? Become a professional athlete? Buy sneakers with gigantic rubber soles?

"Got milk?" -- No, I've not recently given birth.

"Say it with flowers." -- Well, then, I'll need 2,000 gardenias, 1,800 roses and about 5,000 carnations. Oh, and I'll need a vacant football field.

Echo Boom

I am on the cusp of a generation. So are you, if you were born in 1980-82. You are the very beginning of Gen-Y, otherwise known as the Echo Boomers because we are children of Baby Boomers. I am part of the oldest segment of Gen Y. We are beginning to stream into the work force (though I haven't joined up yet). People who do studies say a lot of things about us. Check out this 60 Minutes piece.

We are optimistic! Yay, I like that.
We have been sheltered. Hmm, yes I suppose so. Hence our optimism.
We don't want our work to define us as it may have our parents. I agree. Plus, we never had to work very hard for anything, so work isn't very high on our priority list.
So far, we seem like happy, sheltered Hobbits, blissfully unaware of life's misfortunes. I think that's about right.

We are rumored to be more like our grandparents than our parents. We aren't rebels. We value family and are marrying earlier (some of us anyway). Heck, we're even friends with our parents. We don't protest, we fit in to the system. We are basically followers. But, I'm sure there are some leaders out there somewhere.

Lists (Relating to Broadway Songs)

"A Few of My Favorite Things"

marinara sauce
television
reading in bed
men in crisp collared shirts
the smell of rain on cement
getting home after a long day

Why "I Enjoy Being a Girl"

can have long fluffy hair and not be gross
wearing pretty dresses
(it's hard to make this list and not seem like hopeless 50s-style repressed woman, but I do like those things.)
I sometimes like to have doors held open, etc., but hardly any guys do that anymore, so not quite the bonus it used to be.

"Memory"

I remember when my little sister was born, and I was excited because my mom gave me a new Teddy-bear so I wouldn't feel left out.

I remember getting my first tooth pulled when I was seven, and I refused to open my mouth for the novacaine shots. The dentist assured me it wouldn't hurt, and I believed him like an idiot. I opened my mouth and it hurt like heck.

I remember in fifth grade when I sent away for a list of all the endangered wildlife species, then brought it to class and the teacher let me present it to everyone. I can't believe how uncool I was.

I remember my first day of college when I had to play some stupid game with toilet paper and thinking that civilization was really going downhill fast.

I remember I was so happy on my 22nd birthday because my friends James and Jodi baked a cake with my name on it in blue frosting.

An Imagined Conversation between J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis

"So, J.R.R., how are the hobbers coming?"
"I've told you a million times--it's hobbits! Hobbits!"
"Sorry, sorry. Now, I imagine them as similar to dwarves. Is that what you had in mind?"
"Well, Jack, no. Dwarves live underground, in the mines. Hobbits live in hobbit holes! Like ground hogs."
"Quite, quite. Did I mention I've added a wicked queen to Narnia? She's an ice queen--I modeled her after that testy librarian."
"Yes, I know exactly who you mean! Always grimaces when I hand her a book, as if I've soiled it somehow by touching it."
"You have elves in your story don't you? I can't decide if I need them or not. Narnia doesn't seem elf-friendly. Plus, they get on my nerves--so jolly and smiling all the time."
"No, no, no. I've got elves, Jack, but they are solemn. Solemn I tell you! No one in my story is jolly except the hobbits. They're a bit like retards, really. Playing in the garden, believing whatever anyone tells them."
"I see. I have to say, this whole fantasy story business is merely a way to pass the time until I find myself a foxy lady."
"I agree completely, dear chap."

A Critical Look at Iowa City

Overall, Iowa City is a nice town. I don't think I'd want to live here forever, but if I had to I probably wouldn't hate it. Here are the good things:

The downtown has many shops and restaurants that I like.
The river is pretty and there are lots of trees.
There are bike lanes and paths all around.
There are cultural events and so on.
The bus service is good.
Hy-Vee (I could do a separate entry on why I like Hy-Vee, but that's another blog.)
Banana split hot chocolate at the Java House.
Close to open green spaces and not smoggy.

Things that are not so good:

Students overrun everything: the parking, the post office, the bars.
Drunk people in general.
Coral Ridge Mall feels like an airplane hanger.
Not too many great jobs outside of healthcare.
A general air of pretension.
People pan-handling all the time.
Still a lot of people driving poorly in pick-up trucks. (If you own a pick-up, I mean no offense to you. But, I see many people in pick-ups who think they can drive either very fast or very slow and not be courteous to other drivers. I don't know if rude people are attracted to pick-ups or if driving pick-ups makes a person rude.)