This summer, I got in a big tussle with my husband Mike over the planning and coordinating of household projects and personal schedules. I can’t really remember the details. What I do remember is the tension that filled our car as all of us drove out to a friend’s lake cabin to spend one of the few beautiful Saturdays of the summer.
Traveling east out of Bismarck, I knew I needed to apologize, but I dreaded doing it and wasn’t sure how to start. Finally, I just said, “I’m sorry.” Just a few minutes after uttering those words the scuffle was over, the tension was gone. We were free to enjoy the rest of a fun day. What a relief.
This story had a happy ending largely because of the mercy Mike readily offered to me.
I’ve been thinking about mercy lately and what a desirable trait it is.
Mercy is vital to parenting, and hard to come by sometimes like at bedtime with overtired children who won’t give their overtired mom a break by going to sleep peacefully. Or with little boys who insist on wrestling in Target or Perkins or the pews in church. Or with a four-year-old who talks REALLY LOUD all the time to be sure he’s heard in the event he is interrupted (which he often is.)
Parents need a fountain of mercy to nurture the clumsy, compulsive, curious and tender hearts of their kids.
Mercy is also essential to good marriages and friendships. Everyone screws up and does things that are mean, selfish or arrogant at times. For any relationship to last and grow, mercy from both people involved must be in steady supply.
Perhaps one of the areas where mercy is most lacking today is in relationships with ourselves. We are ruthless in our personal judgments, obsessing on our physical flaws or financial shortcomings -- our nose is too big, hips are too wide, chest is too small, house is too modest, clothes are too dated. We dwell on mistakes we’ve made or compare ourselves to others who appear to be more put together or accomplished.
We can be merciless on ourselves for our failures or differences.
Considering how important mercy is in our lives, it’s too bad this trait isn’t more popularly pursued. Mercy sounds sort of old fashioned and “churchy” -- something you might read in the Bible or hear about on Sundays not something to cultivate like discipline, youth, or wealth.
Perhaps that’s because being merciful really challenges us. It doesn’t always come naturally and some might equate being merciful to being weak. It’s tough being merciful because it forces us to be humble and overlook distasteful faults in ourselves and others.
Mercy comes from those who are secure, compassionate and brave. How different our world and our community would be if we challenged ourselves to be more merciful with each other every day, at home, at work, with our colleagues and competitors, friends and enemies and with ourselves.
Insecurities might fade. Grudges and petty judgments would disappear. We would all be more free – free to enjoy what’s good in others and ourselves. What a relief.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Resurrecting a Lost Art: Send them Outside
My mom made donuts with my kids last week. We like cheap thrills at our house, and homemade donuts are about the cheapest thrill around. Warm, deep-fried dough dipped in sugar -- delicious.
We ate them as fast as grandma pulled them out of the fryer. She often made donuts for us when we were growing up, and told of my oldest brother John who would smell the donuts frying from outside and bring his friends in to load up.
They would spread their fingers, hang a donut ring around each one and race back outside to romp around. They probably burned off their five-donut snack before dinner.
This image got me thinking about modern boys. Sadly, the smell of baked goods wouldn’t lure many kids today from outside but from playing video games in the next room. They would likely gobble up the fatty snacks and plop back down for a couple more hours of screen time before dinner.
Video games are like crack for boys. I don’t know how or why, but Wii can change my soccer playing, bug collecting, kite flying, bike riding 6-year-old into a whiney, intolerable junkie obsessed with getting his next “fix” in front of the screen.
Television, computers and video games offer an easy path to peace in our homes, but they come at a big cost to our kids. A recent report conducted by the Colorado-based Outdoor Foundation shows that an increasing number of Americans participated in nature-based, outdoor activities in 2008. Great news.
However, outdoor activity for one critical group – children ages 6 to 17 – continues to decline. Down 8 percent in 2008, which follows an 11 percent decline the previous year.
Our kids are starved for fresh air. So I wonder, why do we so often leave our easiest, cheapest and best parenting tool tucked in the back of the closet? Going outside is a great solution to so many parenting challenges. Bored? Tired? Hungry? Crabby? Fighting with your siblings? Get outside.
Fresh air, unfiltered light and the freedom of being outdoors offers a powerful potion for the human spirit. It reboots children – and adults -- energizes us and provides a new perspective.
Scientists have studied the affects of outdoor activities on children. We’ve heard them before, but another look might strengthen our resolve to push our kids outside as the weather turns cold. Here are just a few of the many proven benefits:
• Decreased stress, anxiety and obesity.
• Improved motor skills, cognitive functioning and creativity.
• Development of healthy lifelong habits and hobbies.
• Reduced symptoms of Attention Deficit Disorder.
• Strengthened family relationships.
• Greater appreciation for nature and wildlife.
Today was a flawless fall day, and I spent most of it in a small, windowless office. The sun was starting to set when I arrived home but I was determined to capture a few minutes of fresh air. Thankfully, my kids didn’t resist.
We crossed the street and wandered around a (dwindling) parcel of vacant prairie north of our house. We walked through “Sunrise Crater,” climbed a couple hay bales and played a bit of football. It was a lovely evening and we stayed out long enough to watch the sunset.
Walking home by moonlight, one of the kids pointed to the sky and yelled, “First star. Make a wish.” A few steps later, my four year old said, “I wished that we can come here again tomorrow.”
Now, there’s a wish I know I can make come true. Maybe we’ll bring a handful of grandma’s donuts.
We ate them as fast as grandma pulled them out of the fryer. She often made donuts for us when we were growing up, and told of my oldest brother John who would smell the donuts frying from outside and bring his friends in to load up.
They would spread their fingers, hang a donut ring around each one and race back outside to romp around. They probably burned off their five-donut snack before dinner.
This image got me thinking about modern boys. Sadly, the smell of baked goods wouldn’t lure many kids today from outside but from playing video games in the next room. They would likely gobble up the fatty snacks and plop back down for a couple more hours of screen time before dinner.
Video games are like crack for boys. I don’t know how or why, but Wii can change my soccer playing, bug collecting, kite flying, bike riding 6-year-old into a whiney, intolerable junkie obsessed with getting his next “fix” in front of the screen.
Television, computers and video games offer an easy path to peace in our homes, but they come at a big cost to our kids. A recent report conducted by the Colorado-based Outdoor Foundation shows that an increasing number of Americans participated in nature-based, outdoor activities in 2008. Great news.
However, outdoor activity for one critical group – children ages 6 to 17 – continues to decline. Down 8 percent in 2008, which follows an 11 percent decline the previous year.
Our kids are starved for fresh air. So I wonder, why do we so often leave our easiest, cheapest and best parenting tool tucked in the back of the closet? Going outside is a great solution to so many parenting challenges. Bored? Tired? Hungry? Crabby? Fighting with your siblings? Get outside.
Fresh air, unfiltered light and the freedom of being outdoors offers a powerful potion for the human spirit. It reboots children – and adults -- energizes us and provides a new perspective.
Scientists have studied the affects of outdoor activities on children. We’ve heard them before, but another look might strengthen our resolve to push our kids outside as the weather turns cold. Here are just a few of the many proven benefits:
• Decreased stress, anxiety and obesity.
• Improved motor skills, cognitive functioning and creativity.
• Development of healthy lifelong habits and hobbies.
• Reduced symptoms of Attention Deficit Disorder.
• Strengthened family relationships.
• Greater appreciation for nature and wildlife.
Today was a flawless fall day, and I spent most of it in a small, windowless office. The sun was starting to set when I arrived home but I was determined to capture a few minutes of fresh air. Thankfully, my kids didn’t resist.
We crossed the street and wandered around a (dwindling) parcel of vacant prairie north of our house. We walked through “Sunrise Crater,” climbed a couple hay bales and played a bit of football. It was a lovely evening and we stayed out long enough to watch the sunset.
Walking home by moonlight, one of the kids pointed to the sky and yelled, “First star. Make a wish.” A few steps later, my four year old said, “I wished that we can come here again tomorrow.”
Now, there’s a wish I know I can make come true. Maybe we’ll bring a handful of grandma’s donuts.
Monday, October 19, 2009
A Simple Bounty
Simplicity is “in” these days, at least in theory. In homes and offices, the word beckons from walls and knick-knacks urging us to “simplify.”
I’ve write often about simplifying. It’s an illusive goal, not easily achieved in our world of materialism and multitasking. We try to reduce, reuse and recycle, then head to Wal Mart to buy stuff to organize our stuff.
Despite an overwhelming number of failures, I achieved a small victory in simplifying this summer without even trying.
I became a farmer – an urban farmer. Inspired by my endlessly talented friend Becky and her handy hubby Leo, they helped us turn a previously useless hill in our backyard into our own little 8 X 14 farmer’s market.
People used to garden to produce the food they needed to survive. Now we don’t have time to garden – we’re too busy working to buy the food we need to survive.
This weekend, as we harvested our last bounty, I was reminded of the simple thrills this little patch of dirt created for our family.
The first thrill was watching our seeds sprout in the warmth of our sunniest room while snow and wind held us captive all spring. We cheered the day an infant tomato reached the roof of its mini greenhouse.
Planting was the second big thrill. I spent an entire evening kneeling beside my daughter and sprinkling seeds in the dirt. Neither of us knew what we were doing, but that didn’t matter.
A few weeks later, lettuce emerged and generated our third big thrill. We proudly shared this with grandparents and neighbors, multiplying these thrills exponentially. The kids delivered bags of fresh green leaves as if they were gold.
Yellow blossoms on tomatoes, cucumbers, peas and watermelon generated more thrills. The fact that those plain little flowers transform into big tasty vegetables is a rather impossible proposition. Our kids didn’t believe it would happen.
So when it did, and cute cucumbers, tiny tomatoes and mini watermelon appeared, we were thrilled again. For the rest of the summer, we savored the fruits of this garden. My son and I hid from the others to share the first perfectly ripe tomato. “Mom, can I go pick peas,” our four year old often asked, as hopefully as if he were angling for a new toy.
As we walked to the garden to clean it out for winter this weekend, I was sad. The limp, frost-bit plants boasted fruit that didn’t have time to ripen. I wanted to be depressed about the long winter that stood firmly between our next growing season, but that little garden would not allow it.
It thrilled us all afternoon. Seeing brilliant orange carrots surface among shovels of black dirt was like finding hidden treasures. Capturing dozens of ladybugs who were feasting on remaining cucumber leaves entertained the kids for hours.
And clean-up complete, the kids lingered long in the garden digging holes and moving dirt without a toy in site.
Our first garden was a great experiment in science, problem solving and innovation. We undertook gardening to generate good food for our family, which it did.
But its greatest bounty was the countless opportunities (and excuses) it gave us to hang out together, be outside, and slowdown enough to marvel at the wonders of our world.
That’s simplicity at its best.
I’ve write often about simplifying. It’s an illusive goal, not easily achieved in our world of materialism and multitasking. We try to reduce, reuse and recycle, then head to Wal Mart to buy stuff to organize our stuff.
Despite an overwhelming number of failures, I achieved a small victory in simplifying this summer without even trying.
I became a farmer – an urban farmer. Inspired by my endlessly talented friend Becky and her handy hubby Leo, they helped us turn a previously useless hill in our backyard into our own little 8 X 14 farmer’s market.
People used to garden to produce the food they needed to survive. Now we don’t have time to garden – we’re too busy working to buy the food we need to survive.
This weekend, as we harvested our last bounty, I was reminded of the simple thrills this little patch of dirt created for our family.
The first thrill was watching our seeds sprout in the warmth of our sunniest room while snow and wind held us captive all spring. We cheered the day an infant tomato reached the roof of its mini greenhouse.
Planting was the second big thrill. I spent an entire evening kneeling beside my daughter and sprinkling seeds in the dirt. Neither of us knew what we were doing, but that didn’t matter.
A few weeks later, lettuce emerged and generated our third big thrill. We proudly shared this with grandparents and neighbors, multiplying these thrills exponentially. The kids delivered bags of fresh green leaves as if they were gold.
Yellow blossoms on tomatoes, cucumbers, peas and watermelon generated more thrills. The fact that those plain little flowers transform into big tasty vegetables is a rather impossible proposition. Our kids didn’t believe it would happen.
So when it did, and cute cucumbers, tiny tomatoes and mini watermelon appeared, we were thrilled again. For the rest of the summer, we savored the fruits of this garden. My son and I hid from the others to share the first perfectly ripe tomato. “Mom, can I go pick peas,” our four year old often asked, as hopefully as if he were angling for a new toy.
As we walked to the garden to clean it out for winter this weekend, I was sad. The limp, frost-bit plants boasted fruit that didn’t have time to ripen. I wanted to be depressed about the long winter that stood firmly between our next growing season, but that little garden would not allow it.
It thrilled us all afternoon. Seeing brilliant orange carrots surface among shovels of black dirt was like finding hidden treasures. Capturing dozens of ladybugs who were feasting on remaining cucumber leaves entertained the kids for hours.
And clean-up complete, the kids lingered long in the garden digging holes and moving dirt without a toy in site.
Our first garden was a great experiment in science, problem solving and innovation. We undertook gardening to generate good food for our family, which it did.
But its greatest bounty was the countless opportunities (and excuses) it gave us to hang out together, be outside, and slowdown enough to marvel at the wonders of our world.
That’s simplicity at its best.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
No Time To Spare
I stood at a fax machine recently chatting with a co-worker about how passé the once revolutionary machine has become. In the era of scanning, emailing and electronic signatures, fax machines sit largely idle, collecting dust beside Dictaphones and overhead projectors.
When I entered the workforce, faxing was cutting edge technology and email was an infant. So I don’t have any frame of reference for what the workplace was like without the ability -- and expectation -- to instantly exchange information.
I enjoy trying to imagine that world and the conversations in it. “OK Bob. I’ll look for your draft to arrive in a few days. You should have my edits back in a week.” These pleasant daydreams are usually interrupted by a vibrating phone urgently alerting me to something very trivial that needs my immediate attention.
It’s hard to imagine the pace of life getting any faster or people trying to cram more into our maxed out minutes. Instant messaging, ready-made meals, one-hour processing, overnight delivery, same-day service. The list alone makes me anxious.
Nearly every driver on the road is also talking, texting or checking email on their phone, sometimes while eating breakfast and putting on makeup.
Technology has also blurred the lines between work, play and home life. This can be a great blessing, but has its challenges. The other day I caught myself having a serious conversation with a reporter while decorating for my child’s birthday party. I did my best to disguise my breathlessness while lugging a heavy cooler up and down our stairs.
So goes the imperfect juggling act we call life. We can use every high-tech trick and device, and somehow remain perpetually behind. Between email, cell phone, facebook, blogs, voicemail, twitter, and texting I could spend a whole day with my child and never complete a real conversation.
So what’s the point? I can daydream for hours about life before computers but technology has forever changed the way we live and interact. It pervades every aspect of our lives.
The problem is, the time savers don’t live up to their claims. My Blackberry might have more memory than my own brain and a few more applications too, but it can’t give me what I want the most. More time.
Ultimately, only I can do that, by judiciously drawing boundaries and determining which balls in my juggling act can fall and which ones are just too precious to break.
When I entered the workforce, faxing was cutting edge technology and email was an infant. So I don’t have any frame of reference for what the workplace was like without the ability -- and expectation -- to instantly exchange information.
I enjoy trying to imagine that world and the conversations in it. “OK Bob. I’ll look for your draft to arrive in a few days. You should have my edits back in a week.” These pleasant daydreams are usually interrupted by a vibrating phone urgently alerting me to something very trivial that needs my immediate attention.
It’s hard to imagine the pace of life getting any faster or people trying to cram more into our maxed out minutes. Instant messaging, ready-made meals, one-hour processing, overnight delivery, same-day service. The list alone makes me anxious.
Nearly every driver on the road is also talking, texting or checking email on their phone, sometimes while eating breakfast and putting on makeup.
Technology has also blurred the lines between work, play and home life. This can be a great blessing, but has its challenges. The other day I caught myself having a serious conversation with a reporter while decorating for my child’s birthday party. I did my best to disguise my breathlessness while lugging a heavy cooler up and down our stairs.
So goes the imperfect juggling act we call life. We can use every high-tech trick and device, and somehow remain perpetually behind. Between email, cell phone, facebook, blogs, voicemail, twitter, and texting I could spend a whole day with my child and never complete a real conversation.
So what’s the point? I can daydream for hours about life before computers but technology has forever changed the way we live and interact. It pervades every aspect of our lives.
The problem is, the time savers don’t live up to their claims. My Blackberry might have more memory than my own brain and a few more applications too, but it can’t give me what I want the most. More time.
Ultimately, only I can do that, by judiciously drawing boundaries and determining which balls in my juggling act can fall and which ones are just too precious to break.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
A Case for Conservatism
For much of his presidency, George Bush was called just about every dirty name possible, including “liar” by Sen. Harry Reid.
We didn’t hear righteous indignation blaring from the steps of the Capitol on the nightly news. No calls for an apology. No outcry for civility or respect.
So I find the clicking of tongues and waving fingers of shame at Rep. Joe Wilson interesting. Many of Wilson’s critics similarly complain about the health care and tea party protests, and dismiss the protestors as being rude, orchestrated, paid, or ill-informed.
Wilson’s outburst was wrong. Our President deserves more respect. But advocates of President Obama’s rapid and sweeping reforms seem unwilling to recognize one simple fact: the storms of protests are fueled not by ignorant misunderstanding but by ardent disagreement with the basic premise of these changes.
I’m among the conservatives who disagree with much of President Obama’s agenda, not out of desire to protect the rich or the status quo. Not because I’m racist. Not because I lack compassion for the poor or disabled. Not because I’m too dumb or ill-informed to really understand the issues or because I need to be enlightened somehow by my liberal friends.
My philosophy comes after much deliberate consideration. I believe that conservative principles of limited government and a strong free enterprise system offer the surest, most sustainable road to opportunity, prosperity, and happiness for the largest number of people.
Economist Milton Friedman, who died in 2006, staunchly defended free enterprise as the best economic system ever developed by civilization. The great achievements of civilization, he said, have not come from government bureaus but by individuals pursuing their own interests.
In an interview with Phil Donahue, the famously liberal talk show host lamented the uneven distribution of wealth in the world, the desperate plight of people in undeveloped countries, the existence of so few haves and so many have nots.
Donahue’s concerns are legitimate, and most people share them. No one has a monopoly on compassion for the poor and needy.
Friedman maintained, however, that the only cases in which the masses have escaped the kind of grinding poverty Donahue described are where they have capitalism and free trade.
“The record of history is absolutely crystal clear,” Friedman said. “There is no alternative way so far discovered of improving the lot of the ordinary people that can hold a candle to the productive energies that are unleashed by a free enterprise system.”
We have already wandered far from limited government. President Obama’s policies would propel government on a growth chart that seems impossible to sustain. This poses a huge threat to the government’s funding source, our free enterprise system, which in turn will hurt, not help the poor or middle class people President Obama professes to represent.
Rather than creating a fairer more just society, these proposals will undermine the quality of life for all future Americans.
Take exception with the manner of the debate if you will. But the intensity of opposition to these proposals suggests it is change many Americans don’t believe in.
We didn’t hear righteous indignation blaring from the steps of the Capitol on the nightly news. No calls for an apology. No outcry for civility or respect.
So I find the clicking of tongues and waving fingers of shame at Rep. Joe Wilson interesting. Many of Wilson’s critics similarly complain about the health care and tea party protests, and dismiss the protestors as being rude, orchestrated, paid, or ill-informed.
Wilson’s outburst was wrong. Our President deserves more respect. But advocates of President Obama’s rapid and sweeping reforms seem unwilling to recognize one simple fact: the storms of protests are fueled not by ignorant misunderstanding but by ardent disagreement with the basic premise of these changes.
I’m among the conservatives who disagree with much of President Obama’s agenda, not out of desire to protect the rich or the status quo. Not because I’m racist. Not because I lack compassion for the poor or disabled. Not because I’m too dumb or ill-informed to really understand the issues or because I need to be enlightened somehow by my liberal friends.
My philosophy comes after much deliberate consideration. I believe that conservative principles of limited government and a strong free enterprise system offer the surest, most sustainable road to opportunity, prosperity, and happiness for the largest number of people.
Economist Milton Friedman, who died in 2006, staunchly defended free enterprise as the best economic system ever developed by civilization. The great achievements of civilization, he said, have not come from government bureaus but by individuals pursuing their own interests.
In an interview with Phil Donahue, the famously liberal talk show host lamented the uneven distribution of wealth in the world, the desperate plight of people in undeveloped countries, the existence of so few haves and so many have nots.
Donahue’s concerns are legitimate, and most people share them. No one has a monopoly on compassion for the poor and needy.
Friedman maintained, however, that the only cases in which the masses have escaped the kind of grinding poverty Donahue described are where they have capitalism and free trade.
“The record of history is absolutely crystal clear,” Friedman said. “There is no alternative way so far discovered of improving the lot of the ordinary people that can hold a candle to the productive energies that are unleashed by a free enterprise system.”
We have already wandered far from limited government. President Obama’s policies would propel government on a growth chart that seems impossible to sustain. This poses a huge threat to the government’s funding source, our free enterprise system, which in turn will hurt, not help the poor or middle class people President Obama professes to represent.
Rather than creating a fairer more just society, these proposals will undermine the quality of life for all future Americans.
Take exception with the manner of the debate if you will. But the intensity of opposition to these proposals suggests it is change many Americans don’t believe in.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Wanted: Two More Weeks of Summer
As I drove to pick up my kids from school recently, the temperature at the bank read 84 degrees.
I reflected with frustration on the weeks of crappy May and June weather that consumed probably 40 percent of our summer break. How I’d like to exchange these warm August days in school with the early June days of freezing rain.
In North Dakota, the start date of schools is a local matter, one that school boards and superintendents protect vigorously. I agree with local control and support it.
The problem with school schedules is this. Local school boards approve the schedule but the schedule is built around -- or strongly influence by -- a statewide athletic calendar (with a big emphasis on finishing football before the snow flies.) The real “control” being exercised at the local level on school start dates seems pretty minor.
A couple years ago, the Legislature narrowly rejected a measure that would have required schools to start after Labor Day. Lobbying efforts by the school superintendents, school boards and other education groups prevailed.
Local control and athletic schedules aside, there are some sensible and compelling reasons to delay the beginning of school until after Labor Day. And it can be done without threatening local control or jeopardizing the quality of education.
The first and most obvious reason is weather. August is one of the most reliably warm months of the year in North Dakota. Why do we tie our families at home and our kids back in school for two or three of the nicest weeks of the year?
By doing so, we compel a large number of summer attractions to close prematurely. Last weekend was one of the nicest of the season, but families couldn’t take a dip in any of Bismarck’s public pools. All were closed for the season.
Raging Rivers, plagued by a summer of awful water-park weather, is closed except on weekends. That attraction is missing out on a couple potentially great weeks of revenue.
Hotels and other attractions suffer as well because once school starts both employees and in-state visitors dry up. Big attractions like Medora struggle to find staff for the last few weeks of their season because students leave for school in mid August.
A Bismarck hotel owner, testifying to the Legislature on this issue, said his business dropped off 30 percent as soon as school started in August. He said continuing the summer season through Labor Day would have generated another $15,000 in sales for the year – “a meaningful amount for a small North Dakota business who is asked to pay property taxes totaling over $37,000 and a school distribution of $20,683.”
A 2006 statewide survey found that 75 percent of people who have an opinion on this issue support requiring schools to begin after Labor Day.
But a state mandate shouldn’t be necessary. Since schools collectively agree on a very similar schedule now, why can’t they collectively agree on a schedule that starts after Labor Day?
They could. They just need to hear from enough people who want them to.
Summer is short and precious in our state. A later start and finishing date for schools makes sense. It would be good for families, kids, businesses, teachers, and our economy.
And it might even be a welcome change for those poor high school football players forced to practice in full gear on the hottest days of summer.
I reflected with frustration on the weeks of crappy May and June weather that consumed probably 40 percent of our summer break. How I’d like to exchange these warm August days in school with the early June days of freezing rain.
In North Dakota, the start date of schools is a local matter, one that school boards and superintendents protect vigorously. I agree with local control and support it.
The problem with school schedules is this. Local school boards approve the schedule but the schedule is built around -- or strongly influence by -- a statewide athletic calendar (with a big emphasis on finishing football before the snow flies.) The real “control” being exercised at the local level on school start dates seems pretty minor.
A couple years ago, the Legislature narrowly rejected a measure that would have required schools to start after Labor Day. Lobbying efforts by the school superintendents, school boards and other education groups prevailed.
Local control and athletic schedules aside, there are some sensible and compelling reasons to delay the beginning of school until after Labor Day. And it can be done without threatening local control or jeopardizing the quality of education.
The first and most obvious reason is weather. August is one of the most reliably warm months of the year in North Dakota. Why do we tie our families at home and our kids back in school for two or three of the nicest weeks of the year?
By doing so, we compel a large number of summer attractions to close prematurely. Last weekend was one of the nicest of the season, but families couldn’t take a dip in any of Bismarck’s public pools. All were closed for the season.
Raging Rivers, plagued by a summer of awful water-park weather, is closed except on weekends. That attraction is missing out on a couple potentially great weeks of revenue.
Hotels and other attractions suffer as well because once school starts both employees and in-state visitors dry up. Big attractions like Medora struggle to find staff for the last few weeks of their season because students leave for school in mid August.
A Bismarck hotel owner, testifying to the Legislature on this issue, said his business dropped off 30 percent as soon as school started in August. He said continuing the summer season through Labor Day would have generated another $15,000 in sales for the year – “a meaningful amount for a small North Dakota business who is asked to pay property taxes totaling over $37,000 and a school distribution of $20,683.”
A 2006 statewide survey found that 75 percent of people who have an opinion on this issue support requiring schools to begin after Labor Day.
But a state mandate shouldn’t be necessary. Since schools collectively agree on a very similar schedule now, why can’t they collectively agree on a schedule that starts after Labor Day?
They could. They just need to hear from enough people who want them to.
Summer is short and precious in our state. A later start and finishing date for schools makes sense. It would be good for families, kids, businesses, teachers, and our economy.
And it might even be a welcome change for those poor high school football players forced to practice in full gear on the hottest days of summer.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Friends: A choice and a treasure
"A faithful friend is a sturdy shelter; he who finds one finds a treasure." Sirach 6:14
One of my oldest pals, Schultzie, is in town. We’ve been friends for 26 years, ever since we met as mullet-wearing pre-pubescent junior high kids who shared a love for playing basketball and baking Christmas cookies.
From Thanksgiving through Christmas, we baked cookies almost every day after school. This tradition caught up with us in college. We once took pictures in a mall photo booth and tried to display as many of our cookie-induced chins as possible. When the machine spit out the strip of black and whites, they revealed at least 10 between us.
We laughed for hours at those awful pictures -- just one of countless such events that triggered stupid levels of laughter. Through high school, college and beyond, Schultzie was a pretty constant companion. We covered a lot of territory in those 12 years, growing from childhood to adulthood, and accumulated a hard drive full of memories.
When we were both just 19, our parents amazingly approved of us taking a five-week trip through Europe, largely un-chaperoned.
Credit cards were not yet an international currency, so we followed the “Europe on $20 a Day” plan. We were so nervous about running out of money we ate very little and walked everywhere. (This helped eliminate some of the chins.)
In Rome I remember staring at the carts of gelato, debating whether to eat supper or indulge in dessert because both would break the budget. Sensibility won out at first. But after errantly ordering potato pizza one night, we started ignoring our motherly voices and chose instead the largest-size bowls of Italian ice cream we could afford.
Ralph Waldo Emerson, who commented a lot about friendship, said the only way to have a friend is to be one. This is not so true of sisters, brothers, or parents. All of these relationships are gifts of birth. They are a lot better with effort of course, but they last a lifetime either way.
Spouses too are different, formally bound by a legal and/or spiritual pledge.
Friendship, on the other hand, is a choice. One that can be abandoned at any moment should either party so desire. That’s why friendships are so special. They are completely optional – held together only by mutual interest and good will.
As the years pass, the likelihood of sometime living across the street, across town or even across the state from my friend Schultzie dwindles. We’ll probably always live across the country.
But that’s okay. A lifelong friend is like a favorite pair of jeans that never wear out or become too tight. Days, weeks or even years might pass, but when you pull them on they still fit comfortably -- even if you’ve eaten too many Christmas cookies.
One of my oldest pals, Schultzie, is in town. We’ve been friends for 26 years, ever since we met as mullet-wearing pre-pubescent junior high kids who shared a love for playing basketball and baking Christmas cookies.
From Thanksgiving through Christmas, we baked cookies almost every day after school. This tradition caught up with us in college. We once took pictures in a mall photo booth and tried to display as many of our cookie-induced chins as possible. When the machine spit out the strip of black and whites, they revealed at least 10 between us.
We laughed for hours at those awful pictures -- just one of countless such events that triggered stupid levels of laughter. Through high school, college and beyond, Schultzie was a pretty constant companion. We covered a lot of territory in those 12 years, growing from childhood to adulthood, and accumulated a hard drive full of memories.
When we were both just 19, our parents amazingly approved of us taking a five-week trip through Europe, largely un-chaperoned.
Credit cards were not yet an international currency, so we followed the “Europe on $20 a Day” plan. We were so nervous about running out of money we ate very little and walked everywhere. (This helped eliminate some of the chins.)
In Rome I remember staring at the carts of gelato, debating whether to eat supper or indulge in dessert because both would break the budget. Sensibility won out at first. But after errantly ordering potato pizza one night, we started ignoring our motherly voices and chose instead the largest-size bowls of Italian ice cream we could afford.
Ralph Waldo Emerson, who commented a lot about friendship, said the only way to have a friend is to be one. This is not so true of sisters, brothers, or parents. All of these relationships are gifts of birth. They are a lot better with effort of course, but they last a lifetime either way.
Spouses too are different, formally bound by a legal and/or spiritual pledge.
Friendship, on the other hand, is a choice. One that can be abandoned at any moment should either party so desire. That’s why friendships are so special. They are completely optional – held together only by mutual interest and good will.
As the years pass, the likelihood of sometime living across the street, across town or even across the state from my friend Schultzie dwindles. We’ll probably always live across the country.
But that’s okay. A lifelong friend is like a favorite pair of jeans that never wear out or become too tight. Days, weeks or even years might pass, but when you pull them on they still fit comfortably -- even if you’ve eaten too many Christmas cookies.
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