WHBU 1240 AM

The power went out yesterday afternoon at the Franklin house.  It was lunch and I was eating leftover pasta when the power dropped.  Flickered once, then out.  Instead of watching a DVD or Springer or something, I sat in a dim home eating pasta.  A fancy little digital thermometer tracked the temperatures as the house cooled.

My father, now in his 80’s, lived on a farm lit by kerosene lamps.  He jokes that when it got dark “you went to bed.”  It was FDR’s Rural Electrification Program which brought lights to the Franklin farm.  Dad’s job was to run wiring under the house and into small spaces.

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Fall is probably my favorite time of the year.  This, despite my mom’s comment that it’s the “season of death.”  Recently a friend also echoed the same type of phrase.  “You know,” said my friend in a sage like way.  “In the fall everything dies.”  I disagree, however.

We recently planted trees at the new home.  I’ve been like a mother hen worrying about the trees.  I’ve meters for checking water content and stakes to hold the trees against the wind.  Homes on the western prairie don’t get the winds we get along my street.  Tree worries have kept me awake every windy night this fall.

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My office is quiet.  In 25-minutes we have a staff meeting to discuss our election night coverage on WHBU.  We’ll have pizza and make sure everyone is ready for the night.  But, for the moment, it’s quiet.

Twenty-one years ago today I started covering elections.  As a scared Ball State student I put on my blazer, one good pair of tan pants, and a thin tie.  My boss, a wise sage in his 20’s, was John Althardt.  He explained how to cover a headquarters, what questions to ask, and when to call in breaks.  This was before cell phones, so we’d race from the headquarters to the nearest pay phone.  A pocket full of quarters was standard-issue.

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WIN CASH with WHBU.  Stop by the WHBU Mounds Mall Studio or offices on Middletown Road and pick-up a WHBU campaign sign.  Give us your name and address.  The signs promote our election night coverage on 1240 WHBU.  On Monday, November 3rd we’ll close a random name from all the registered homes.  IF that sign is in the yard, when we check live on the morning show…that household WINS $124.40!!

It’s that easy.  Pick up a sign, register your name and address, and if your name is chosen, and if your sign in in the yard…you’ll win.  If the sign is gone, stolen, or you forgot to put it out….we’ll chose another name.

Pick up your sign today at WHBU!

As you might know, my wife and I just moved.  It’s a wonderful home just outside the Anderson city limits in a quiet little neighborhood.

In discussions of a new home there were several “musts,” which although small were pretty important to us.  No, I’m not talking about HGTV kinda things with granite counter tops and views of the ocean.  Angie wanted a home with an attached garage and i wanted a storage barn, either existing or room for one.

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If you visit our house, any day, you’ll find a note taped to our fridge.  I originally printed it for a friend of mine at work, but decided it contained words I could apply, too.  It’s about stress.

Everyone has stress.  Recently, “Castaway” was on television.  It’s a film I’d enjoyed years ago, so armed with popcorn, I plunked down to watch it again.  For many life on a desert island would be ideal, but after a few minutes I realized…it would be too stressful for me.  My world requires a dentist…

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Our landscapes probably say a lot about us.  It probably isn’t fair to judge a book by its cover or homeowners by their yards…but, we do.

A prime example of judging a person by his landscape is the old analogy about which home contains a gun.  A person is standing on the curb, deciding which home to rob.  One home has a well kept lawn, small windmill turning in the garden, and little flowers in pots on the porch.  Decorating the lawn are two little wooden cutouts that resemble people bent over in the yard.

The second home, right next door, has tall grass that needs mowed.  A chain hangs from a tree in the front yard holding an oily engine.  The ground underneath is stained black.  A weathered doghouse stands off to one side with a worn dish beside it.  Through the dirty front windows you see a Confederate flag being used as a drape.

Which house has the gun?

We also judge people by appearance or their own “personal landscape.”  I remember interviewing someone for a job here at the radio station.  The job wasn’t for president of the company or anything, but it was still a first step into broadcasting.  He was in flip-flops and cutoff jeans.  He was in his 30’s and needed a shave.  Radio is an entertainment industry so I thought, “maybe this guy is really creative and thinks outside the box.”  Nope.  He wasn’t creative…he was lazy.

The person I hired at the time has been with us for years and brought enthusiasm and dependability to the job.  He did the most with what he had to work with.  You can train anyone, I believe, if they have the desire to work.

Landscapes are funny things.  We are hiring some landscaping folks to put in trees and make our home look a bit more “kept.”  People also hire consultants to advise them on their personal landscape.  The challenge, I believe, is not being something you’re not.  If we spent $50,000 and put in a waterfall, imported boulders, and a giant train…it would be interesting, but not us.  A well kept lawn, not Disneyland, is more our style.  Same thing in “personal landscape.”  I have three suits, but usually wear “dress casual” with a nice shirt, slacks, and dress shoes.  I’d rather have an Italian Pizza than an Italian suit.

I think the trick in your ‘landscape’ is to be honest with yourself and be sincere.  Sincerity.  Once you can fake THAT, you’ve got it made.

WHBU is having an auction to benefit the “Make a Wish Foundation.”  It’s on Friday, August 22nd from 6-10am.  Local businesses have donated items and the proceeds will go directly to Make a Wish.

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My wife, Angie, and I just returned from vacation.  It’s always fun to get away…even from a job you enjoy.  The first few days are spent unwinding.  The last few days are spent anticipating the return to work  The REAL vacation is in the middle.

Vacations have changed a LOT since ancient times.  It’s hard to imagine the Caesar family loading up the chariot with a tent, firewood, water, and playing cards.  The kids, asking in Latin, “are we there yet?”  Just hard to picture.  Did they even TAKE vacations, then?  I have a Ball State history degree, but I must have skipped that day.

It seems that we really take too much on vacation.  At one point I had the laptop in the daunting “vacation pile” for the trip.  I guess I thought they would have WiFi access in the hills of West Virginia.  Then I realized that it wouldn’t really BE a vacation if I was doing station paperwork at the campsite.  So…I left it.

I think the laptop was the ONLY thing we left behind.  If Angie and I are blessed with children they will be required to ride on the roof.  Don’t panic.  They will be strapped into car seats.  Hey, I’ll be a good dad.  Fresh air is good for them.

Camping is probably one of my favorite summer activities.  I’m blessed because my wife also enjoys the outdoors.  The challenge, though, is preparing for the unknown.  The biggest unknown , probably, is the campsite.

If you’re going to stay at the Holiday Inn, you have a pretty good idea of what to expect.  Same can be said for the Hilton, Marriott, or Motel 6.  You’ll have a room, bed, color TV, annoying heat/AC unit.  The motel rooms will be, mostly, identical.  Hilton rooms will probably all be bigger…but, uniform.  Camping is a complete crap shoot.

Within any given campground there are huge sites, small sites, shaded sites, full sun sites, gravel sites, dirt sites, and grassy sites.  There are sites on hills, near the bathrooms, far from the bathrooms, and those with and without electricity.  You have to prepare for ALL these sites.  Suppose the Holiday Inn motel room would be without towels, but have a t-v?  Maybe there is a bed, but no sheets.  You have pillow cases, but no pillows.  AND you wouldn’t know until you arrived which combination you either had or lacked.

We have packed, for 2 years, a little covered awning thing in case we’re ever at a “full sun” site.  Those sites lack ANY trees and are, basically, like camping in a parking lot with grass.  We’ve never needed the awning.  It’s still packed in the original box.  BUT, the day I leave it home….we’ll get a site that makes the desert seem cool and comfortable.

This vacation I also fell into the trap of a modern, cocky, human.  “I’m superior to nature.”  Sure.  My battle was with a raccoon.  I’ll tell the story quickly, because his size seems to grow with each telling…but, he was huge.  About 2am heard a crunching sound.  Yup, he was in the new “camp kitchen” received as a gift this spring.  I put the food into the truck…and went back to bed.  Secure in the knowledge that he couldn’t possibly open a latched cooler.  5am…and he was in the cooler eating our hamburger.  I like nature close, just not eating MY food.

It was good to leave…and good to get back.  The pictures are downloaded onto the computer and I’m through all the e-mails.  There is one question I have, though.  You drive hundreds of miles sitting behind the wheel.  WHY do we all rush into the house and sit down?  I tried standing, but it just didn’t seem the same…  Maybe after the NEXT vacation.

I’ve just returned from vacation and have been reading the stories about Mike Symmes.  He’s the Chesterfield Accountant accused of stealing $300,000+ from clients over the years.  After his arrest on Wednesday, he killed himself on Thursday.  It’s a sad and tragic story.

We’re all faced with “the Joneses.”  I once worked for someone who, by my measure, was very wealthy.  He made a fortune as a lawyer, held well paying seats on boards, and took lavish vacations.  He considered himself “poor,” however, because his friend was Jim Irsay.  Yes, the guy who owns the Indianapolis Colts.  Jim’s home was amazing, with a compound housing a huge building for entertaining 500+ of his closest friends.  I felt poor because my boss had so much, he felt poor because Irsay had so much.  Maybe Irsay felt rich, but I doubt it. 

Mike Symmes, by all measure, was a nice guy.  He went to Ball State, owned a business, raised a family.  He fell into a trap waiting for any one of us.  Many people misquote and say “money is the root of all evil.”  The actual quote is “the LOVE of money is the root of all evil.”  It’s that love that can warp even good people into doing bad things.

There is a life lesson here.  America has some of the greatest “toys” on the planet.  With cool phones, great cars, and amazing computers.  We have access to interesting vacation spots, fun experiences, and unique joys.  But, they all come at a cost.  My folks have a little sign in their home.  It says, “Happiness isn’t having everything you want…but, being happy with everything you have.”

The death of Mike Symmes is sad for so many reasons.  The wife, children, and grandchildren he leaves behind.  The stain of suicide.  The financial victims.  Most tragic, though, is this death and case didn’t have to happen.  The American dream image he tried to create became a nightmare.