Don't Touch My Junk

Don't touch my junk. Every crisis needs a tag-line or catch phrase and the recent uproar over the enhanced screening procedures being used by TSA at the nation's airports has a good one.

I've thought about what we should be doing at our airports to make sure we are safe. I'm not sure I have a good answer.

On one hand, I want to take every precaution to ensure the people getting on airplanes - especially planes I might be flying on - aren't planning to blow up the plane or crash it into something. I'm don't know if what we are doing today in the name of security is really providing us with security. Let's look at Will Rogers World Airport here in Oklahoma City. Officials at Will Rogers have said they don't currently have the scanning machines that take the near-naked images of travellers and they only use the enhanced pat down technique on those travellers that set off the metal detector. We've been "screening" passengers for years. We provide a photo ID and today we're required to provide our full name and birthdate when we purchase tickets. If the new image scanners and the pat downs are really about security then why don't we require every passenger to go through them? I'm not excited about having some strange man running his hands up my thighs or across my butt, but maybe the price of getting on an airplane is being subject to such screening.

On the other hand, I do agree there is something to the old saying that if you're willing to give up some liberty to get security then you really don't deserve either. And their is absolutely no question allowing random travellers to be subjected to enhanced screenings is giving up a little of our liberty. The stories we're hearing about the treatment of some passengers from TSA workers putting their hands inside a passenger's underwear or busting a passenger's catheter bag and spilling urine everywhere are simply unacceptable to anyone and everyone. I don't know what my wife will do if she has to fly anytime soon and gets subject to what she believes is an inappropriate search. I don't fear for her safety but more for the safety of the TSA agent.

I guess the thing that bothers me most is TSA says these new techniques are the result of trying to prevent another Christmas Day bomber from getting on a plane. I may not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but if the Christmas Day bomber was the catalyst for this effort, can anyone explain why it took 11 months to implement new security procedures. I mean TSA managed to ban liquids within days of detecting a threat from mixing certain liquid compounds.

I saw an interview on television several days ago with an Israeli security expert who basically said we do everything wrong in terms of airport security. His comments were that airport security has to start before you get in the airport. Further he said all cars are stopped before they get to the airport and all passengers are questioned by college educated, well trained screening personnel. Yes they are profiling passengers, but they start by interviewing all passengers so there is no "discrimination." After an initial interview, all passengers are again interviewed in the airport and anyone who seems suspicious gets detained for an even more detailed screening process.

The current administration in Washington has show a clear propensity to over-reach and I believe the new enhanced screening procedures are just the latest example of over-reach. Instead of studying what other countries do that has proven to be effective, we simply react to what ever we have discovered the terrorists have already tried to do. A wise man once told me reacting to an issue faster than before is NOT the same as being proactive. There is absolutely nothing proactive in these screening procedures. They are simply a reaction to a symptom of the problem.

Let's address the problem of terrorists wanting to get on airplanes by figuring out how to keep them out of the airport - not hoping we can keep them from getting knives or bombs on a plane.

Until then - don't touch my junk.

There Is No Cheese and Obviously No Plan

I have resisted as long as humanly possible but I simply don't have the ability to resist any longer. If I try to keep it in any longer I just might explode. And that wouldn't be pretty for anyone.

If you haven't had the good fortune to go driving in downtown Oklahoma City lately, thank your lucky stars because there is absolutely nothing good or fortunate about traffic and the road construction downtown.

It seems as if every street in downtown in Oklahoma City is all under repair at the same time. I knew the construction of the Devon tower would be an inconvenience. Aside from being an unbelievable distraction as I watch out my window, feel my building shake, or wait on the elevator due to the increased traffic our building since all the construction companies seemed to be headquartered in our building, the City of Oklahoma City has decide every road around my building - AND ALL OF DOWNTOWN - at the same time.

I don't know what brain surgeon allowed the City to begin an unbelievable amount of road improvement projects at the same time as the Devon Tower project, Sandridge Energy's new building project, the reconstruction of the Myriad Gardens and who-knows-what-else, but they should be tied to a road construction barrel so commuters can share our thoughts about the construction projects as we drive into and out of downtown every day.

I left my office this morning to run a quick errand at lunch. I jumped in the truck and left my parking garage after waiting for what seemed like forever for an opening in the traffic to get out on the road. Why did I have to wait so long? Because what used to be a four-lane street outside the garage is now only two lanes. And did I mention this is the main northbound road on west side of downtown. It used to be four lanes with all traffic going one-way north. Now we're down to two lanes. So, think about this for a minute. They built a road to provide the main ingress from the south for the bulk of downtown and they believed it would take four-lanes to carry all the traffic. Now they've cut the number of lanes in half - but nobody bothered to reduce the number of cars.

After getting out of the garage, I drove to the First National Building. After running my errand, I headed back out the truck and started for I-40 (which is south of the FNB). I turned south on the main road that runs between the Sheraton and the Renaissance Hotels and smack into the north side of the Cox Convention Center. I know there is road construction both to the east and west of this intersection but I have to go one way or the other and there are no signs telling you how to get to the interstate. Before the construction began, you would turn to the west at this intersection, go a block and then turn south to I-40. Nothing tells you this has changed until you get to the street you would turn south on and the road closed signs force you to go north. One block north of this intersection is another forced turn to the east. If you can follow all those directions, you'll see that the construction has forced me to drive around the block looking for away to get where I want to go. I did finally make it the four blocks south to I-40, but I had to go three blocks north and two blocks east before I could go back south to the interstate. Follow all that??

I'm not some idiot that doesn't know his way around downtown. I'm not some tourist who's never seen Oklahoma City. I work down there. Every day.

I told you the the street providing major ingress to downtown is down to two lanes. It gets even better. The street providing major egress from downtown is also down to two lanes. Normally, when you close lanes on a multi-lane road, you close multiple lanes on the right side of the street or on the left side of the street. In this case, the brain trust has closed the center three lanes of Hudson and has taken away the curbside parking next to our building so we can use it at a driving lane. To help with this picture, think about five lanes of traffic all headed south. Now, close the center three lanes and what do you think happens to traffic at 5 p.m. every day?

I'm sure somewhere there is a single person that had to approve all the construction projects. I find it hard to believe someone really looked at the projects in their entirety and thought all these projects should be completed at one time.

For those of us who travel it every day, its like being in a maze looking for the cheese only to discover the guy who was supposed to put out the cheese couldn't find his way to work to put it out. It's only two more years until the finish the Devon Tower. Maybe we'll have at least one road open with no construction by then.

Thank You

This Veterans Day it warms my heart to see so many people reaching out to our veterans and saying “thanks.”


I’ve always had a great appreciation for those who serve and have served in our military. Although I didn’t serve, my father and father-in-law did, and my brother-in-law serves.

On my wife’s Facebook page this morning, she posted a note thanking our veterans and encouraging others to also remember and thank the families and supporters of those who serve. She’s sharing this from personal experience and it’s one of the things I truly love about my wife.

When we got married, her brother was deployed to Iraq. This past summer, he finished a 12 month activation and deployment to Afghanistan. Until then, I never really appreciated what must happen at home so soldiers can go overseas and defend our way of life. My wife was the “go-to person” for her brother: She paid his bills, helped shop for clothes for his kids, managed the kids’ health care needs, bought Christmas gifts for family and friends, kept his dog while he was deployed, and she even helped him shop for Christmas gifts for his girlfriend.

She served as a “parent” to her nephews. When they weren’t behaving for their mother, Aunt M called and encouraged them to do better.

I guess I always knew these things had to be done, but I never really appreciated all it entailed. I can’t imagine what it is like for a spouse to spend months and months alone or home with the children while a husband or wife is deployed.

As we discussed from time to time during his last deployment, the biggest thing my wife wanted to accomplish was to make sure her brother didn’t have to worry about what was happening at home. This would ensure he could devote his thoughts and energies to staying safe and dealing with the immediate tasks in front of him. I’m sure it was a comfort to him to know she was covering his responsibilities at home.

So as I remember our veterans and those who serve today, thanks just isn’t a big enough word for the men and women in uniform – nor is it sufficient to show my gratitude to the family and friends who do their part at home. But it’s the best I can do.

Thank You to all those who are serving, those who have served, and those who have worked tirelessly to support them on the home front.

The Cat Ate the Candy

One thing we have been thankful for around my house is we don't have the usual sibling arguments about who broke the lamp or who's shoes are left in the living room. Obviously the broken lamp would be Elizabeth's work and the shoes in the living room are mine, but I digress.

Since Halloween, E has had a huge amount of candy around the house and, like all kids, she wants candy 24 hours a day. M and I don't usually worry too much about what E eats and as long as she ate her normal meal, we allow her to have some candy.

However, candy before breakfast is always a no-no. We've told her that for more than a week and we've told that almost every day.

On Sunday morning, we woke up to find E curled up on the floor by our bed with her Halloween bag full of candy. We could hear the paper crinkling and when we asked her what she was doing, she looked up at us and said "nothing." A little looking on our part found the bag of candy and we took it away from her and reminded her we don't eat candy before breakfast. I know. I know. We're a couple of sticks in the mud, but isn't that a parent's job?

This morning, E woke up before we did - she's still on daylight savings time. When i woke a few minutes before 7 a.m. I knew I had heard her rummaging around the house. I got up and went looking for E expecting to find her on the floor in our room. Nope, she wasn't there and she wasn't in her room either. As I walked through the house looking for her, I finally found her hiding under a blanket on the couch.

As I pulled back the blanket, I heard the unmistakable sound of a candy wrapper crinkling under the blanket. I found her with a bag of M&M's in her had and a mouth full of chocolate. When I asked her why she was eating candy before breakfast, she told me the cats had been in the candy and she was only picking up after them.

So, since E doesn't have any brothers or sisters to blame for the candy wrappers or the open candy, she chooses to blame the cats. I thought I had prepared for most things E could tell me and I know we've all heard the story of the dog eating my homework, but I never expected to hear the cat ate the candy.

The Questions Never Stop

"Momma, why do we have to sell Funny and Blankey?"

"Why is Mommy scared of the dark?"

These two questions have been haunting me and M all weekend. Here's why:

Over the weekend we took E to Stillwater for the OSU basketball and football games. While at the basketball game on Friday night, we could look down on the floor of the arena and see Pistol Pete. E absolutely loves Pistol Pete. Anytime we see him on TV, in a magazine, or on a shirt, E jumps up and yells "It's Pistol Pete!!"

Well we could see Pete down on the floor during the basketball game and E wanted to go to the floor to say "hi" to Pete. Her mother and I tried explaining we didn't have tickets for floor access.

"But why don't we have tickets on the floor?"

"Because they cost too much."

"But I want them."

"We would have to give up lots of things to be able to afford those tickets."

"What kinds of things?"

And here is where I went wrong for the first time this weekend. "We'd have to sell blankey and funny."

For the uneducated, it should be obvious what "blankey" is. "Funny" is this little cloth with satin finish on one side and teddy bear head on the other. We don't go anywhere for an overnight trip without blankey and funny. We don't nap in the afternoon without blankey and funny. We certainly don't go to bed at night without blankey and funny.

You'd have thought I was going to cut off one of her arms. "You can't sell funny and blankey."

Now, she was willing to consider selling them if we could get tickets to see Pete - or so I thought. Eventually I told her we weren't going to sell blankey and funny because no one wanted them. "I want them" was the immediate response.

Despite her unwillingness to sell blankey and funny, she still wanted to go see Pete. And right up to the time we left the game she continued to ask why we couldn't go see Pete. After we got back to the motel and got to bed, I thought the discussion about blankey and funny was passed and we could move on. Little did I know it would come up again.

On Saturday morning, I got up early to go set up our tailgate and get the food ready for the day. I was showered and dressed when E woke up and asked if she could go with me. I told her she needed to stay at the motel with Mommy.

"Why do I have to stay with Mommy?"

And here was my second big misstatement of the weekend - "She's afraid of the dark and you need to stay here to make her feel good."

"Why is Mommy afraid of the dark?"

Where do you go from here? Way too many times I discover that most 4-year-olds don't appreciate sarcasm or pick up on a joke well. And this weekend was certainly no exception.

While I had left the M and E at the motel to go set up the tailgate, M was stuck with a little girl who kept asking the same two questions non-stop - Why are you afraid of the dark? and Why does Daddy want to sell my blankey and funny?

Needless to say, by the time they got to the stadium, M was tired of those two questions and whatever follow-up questions her answers spawned and I got an earful from a very tired Mommy.

But I Wanted to Win!!

This evening was open house at Elizabeth's school. We saw her teacher and the principal and the crossing guard and E told them all "Good Morning" just like she does every day when we get to school. It didn't matter to her that it was 7 p.m. She still said good morning to everyone.

There was a silent auction, pizza slices for sale, build-a-bear, everything a growing a school needs to raise money - and very little to entertain kids while mom and dad worked the raffle table or bid on auction items or whatever else we're supposed to do.

We did visit E's class and she showed where she sat on the carpet when her class gathered around the teacher. She demonstrated the faces of her class including brilliant blue, greedy green, and pokey pink.

But the highlight of the evening had to be when we all went to the gym for the raffle drawing. The kids had all been sent home with 24 raffle tickets to sell and I'm guessing most of the kids had sold their tickets. There had to be thousands of tickets in the hopper. With the principal reaching into a huge tumbler to draw names, a volunteer paraded out the prizes to be won.

They had a new bicycle, an iPad, a fender guitar, an XBox, two iPod shuffles, and a new Sony Google TV. That's right, six prizes for thousands of entries. Once E had heard there were iPods for prizes she was certain she would win one because she really wanted one because the old one of her mothers that she gets to listen to has a bad battery in it and it always needs charging.

As we sat in the middle of the gym floor with E in her mother's lap, the drawing started. The crowd is noisy and it's hard to hear. The first name was a family right in front of us and they picked the TV. Elizabeth was OK with that because she wanted the iPod. The second prize chosen was the iPad and then the XBox. When the first iPod was picked, E started to get cranky. When the second iPod was taken E began to recognize she wasn't going to win an iPod. And when the bicycle and guitar were gone it became a reality. E didn't win.

And that's when the tears started. I'm not talking about a few I'm unhappy with momma tears. I'm talking about full blown crying and wailing. "But I wanted to win!!" and even more tears.

Her mother and I both tried really hard not to laugh at the drama but this was high drama for a 4-year-old. Her mother finally got her to calm down by telling her she could as Santa for a new iPod. While that stopped the tears, it immediately started the demanding-toned-questions of when will Santa be here and how do I ask him.

I know it will only get better as she gets older, but WOW, what an evening.

The Sheer Joy of Cotton Underwear

My work at the Oklahoma Pork Council has given me many wonderful opportunities to work with different people and groups representing agriculture producers from across the state. Today I had another of those fabulous opportunities - the Dean's Advisory Council for the Division of Agricultural Sciences and Natural Resources at Oklahoma State University.

During the meeting, a panel of folks who work for some of the major ag organizations in the state was asked to share our thoughts on the major challenges facing agriculture in general and specifically our organizations.

One of the panelists mentioned the opportunities that come with providing food and fiber for the world - not just Oklahoma or the USA, but the world. And then he said something that brought his entire point into a new focus for me. He said how wonderful would be for everyone in the world to experience "the sheer joy of cotton underwear." The room burst into laughter, but after a little thought about this simple descriptor, it became apparent to me how blessed we are in this country and how little other people around really have.

Prior to his "sheer joy" comment, the speaker mentioned a son that had recently traveled to India. While in India the son said he had stayed in the nicest hotel he had ever been in. And when he looked out the windows of the hotel, all he could see were slums. Countless numbers of people who live in a poverty that most Americans - and certainly me - will never understand.

Those of us who are active in agriculture often talk about what it means and what we need to do to feed the world. We recognize the challenges that are inherent in that effort, but we really don't appreciate what it means to be hungry or what it means to not have clothes - especially "cotton underwear."

As I watched my daughter parade around the house in her pink leotard with the orange and black tutu, I thought about all the things we have and all the things Americans are blessed to have that most of the world simply can't comprehend. While it was momentarily humorous, and while it made an entertaining post on my facebook page, "the sheer joy of cotton underwear" was an extremely profound and eye-opening statement.

I Don't Understand

Every parent knows at some point they will have to teach their kids not to lie. At some point in their young lives, all kids will try to tell mom and dad a "story." In most of the cases, it will be to hide something they have done so they won't get into trouble or so they can get a reward they didn't earn.

Elizabeth is no different. Melissa and I've noticed over the past six months that Elizabeth has greatly increased the use of her imagination and she has been telling us some great tales. We've heard about trips to New York City and Canada. We've heard all kinds of tall tales that are obviously the development of a 4-year-old girl.

This evening we had a new experience. Instead of telling us a lie to hide something she did, Elizabeth chose to make up a story about getting in trouble at school.

On the way home from grandma's house, I asked Elizabeth if she was good at school today and she told me "no." She even acted like she was sorry for getting in trouble. In her class, if a student is bad, the teacher makes them move their name from the green light to the yellow light and if they continue being bad, they move to the red light. Earlier this week at parents' night, her teacher told us if a student was moved to the red light, the teacher would call us and have the student tells us what they had done to get into trouble. The same applied to students sent to the principal's office. Again, a phone call would be made to the parents.

After Elizabeth told me she wasn't good, I asked if she had been told to move her name to the yellow light. She said yes. She told me she had told another student to shut up. She continued the story by saying she was sent to the principal's office. This didn't quite fit with what the teacher had told me at parents' night, but maybe I had misunderstood. I asked for the principal's name and she said Mrs. Howard. The principal is actually Mr. Haggard so this didn't quite fit, but it was close. Elizabeth continued by telling me she did not get a sticker from the teacher at the end of the day like all the good kids did. She even asked if I thought she could get a sticker tomorrow if she was good.

When we got home, I had Elizabeth go tell her mother that she had been in trouble in school. Elizabeth repeated the story and we really began to question whether she was telling us the truth. We knew if she had been sent to the principal's office they would have called us and when we asked her about that, Elizabeth said they called grandma.

That left us little choice but to call grandma and ask. While we waited on grandma to call us back, we finally got Elizabeth to admit she had made up the whole story. Not only did she NOT get in trouble today, she got another sticker for being good.

We were preparing to punish Elizabeth for getting in trouble at school and we discovered she wasn't bad at school, but now we were dealing with her lying to us at home. If we let her go on lying to us - even if it is just a made up story - when would we know what was true and what wasn't.

At the end of the night, Elizabeth was sent to bed early tonight with no TV for lying to mom and dad. Ironically, that is probably the same punishment she would get for being bad at school.

Melissa and I talked about it after Elizabeth was finally asleep, and we both agreed we just don't understand why she risk getting in trouble with a made up story about getting in trouble. Again, I don't understand.

Just because you can...

Just because you can do something doesn't mean you should do it.

Nothing earth-shattering in that statement, but it strikes me that many people and organizations simply can't get this thought through their heads.

There has been a great deal of debate and discussion about whether or not a mosque should be built near Ground Zero in New York City. While emotions on the subject run high, if you can put that aside for a few minutes there are a couple of items most rationale people won't argue with.

Our country was founded on the premise of religious freedom. We wanted to be free from a government who told us what our religion should be and what we should believe. This was so important it is included in the Bill of Rights. So when we begin to discuss the prospect of building a mosque near Ground Zero, for the government to say "no" would be contrary to everything this country was built on.

Having said that, I would hope the leadership of the mosque would understand the hard feelings building a mosque this close to a sacred site may create and will look for an alternative location. I completely understand the desire to share and to educate the overwhelming majority of our country about Muslims, but I think there may be a better way to fulfill that desire.

However, if the supporters of mosque insist on this specific site, I'm not going to tell them "no." If the rationale for saying no is they represent a faith or religion that has no tolerance for our Western ways, what have we demonstrated to them if we act in exactly the way we accuse them of acting.

Sometimes just because you can do something doesn't mean you should.

Disappointed in your family? Try Rent-a-Family!

Have you ever gone to an important function - wedding, funeral, graduation, promotion, or whatever - and thought to yourself that sometimes your family just doesn't measure up like you had hoped? Have I got an answer for you!! It's Rent-A-Family.

During a recent funeral for a very close family friend, I looked at the church pews in front of me and saw my brothers, both by blood and by friendship, and their wives and thought "Wow, this is an impressive group."

There were seven "brothers" and five wives. All the brothers were decked out in dark suits, white shirts and ties. The wives were in black dresses and pearls. In a world where coats and ties have been replaced by jeans and tee shirts, seeing pews full of people who knew how to dress was a rare pleasure.

The group included a couple of doctors, two CPA's, a magazine publisher and editor, a classroom teacher, an association executive, and a very successful regional sales manager - and that's not the entire group.

After the funeral, we had a reception for the friends and family and several people commented how nice it was to see the "family" all decked out and paying their respects. Some even asked if we would hire out for their funeral since they weren't sure their family measured up.

The more we talked about it - and the more we drank - the funnier the idea became. And we began to add to the Rent-A-Family offerings.

If you're planning a wedding and need an impressive family, call us and we'll be there. We promise starched white shirts, neckties, and dark suits on the men and gorgeous black dresses and pearls on the women. Need to impress the perspective in-laws? We've got doctors, CPA's, executives, editors, and sales people galor.

Want us to travel? We love to travel and if you give us enough notice, we'll be happy to bring our "family" to impress your family-to-be.

We do have one warning for you. While we are willing to travel, due the success of our "family" members and the jobs we are currently holding, we need time to plan a trip. The less planning time you allow, the more the "Family" will cost.

If you're wanting to impress and worried that you just don't have it in your gene pool, give us a call and we'll do our part to make you look good.

My Apologies

When I talked myself into starting this blog I told myself I would do everything in my power to get at least one new post up per week. At times I have made that goal very easily and others I have missed it by a mile. This is one of the missed it times.

After a long family vacation interupted by a funeral, I'm back with what I hope is a more regular schedule.

Please accept my apologies and stay with me. I've got a few items to share over the next week or so.

Breaking the Piggy Bank

I'm not sure when you should start trying to teach your kids fiscal responsibility, but in the expectation Elizabeth will be a Congresswoman, Senator or maybe even President - especially given the lack of responsibility those folks are showing these days - Melissa has decided four years old is the right time for Elizabeth to begin to appreciate money and what things cost.

One of the things Melissa has done is to "pay" Elizabeth to clean her room each week. Elizabeth can earn 50 cents a week - payable in two quarters - for keeping her room clean. The  reason it is payable in two quarters is Elizabeth knows that quarters are bigger than nickels and if you skip paying her for a week, she won't accept a dollar bill, just give her four quarters.

Last weekend, while we were out shopping at the local Target store, Elizabeth informed us she needed some lip gloss and we should buy if for her. Like most four-year-olds, Elizabeth is very good at TELLING mom and dad to buy her something or get something for her. This trip to Target started in that fashion.

Back to the lip gloss. I told Elizabeth I didn't have any money so I couldn't buy her the necessary lip gloss. She told me she had money and she would be happy to buy the lip gloss. She didn't know what it would cost, but she would be happy to pay. Melissa jumped at this chance to teach Elizabeth a lesson. So off to the dollar clearance section of things just inside the Target they went.

Once they reached the clearance the section, they found the desired lip gloss. The cost was $1. While shopping for the lip gloss, Elizabeth also found a set of flip flops she just had to have - a trait she inherited from her mother. Understand that at four this child has more shoes than I do. Granted, she has no where near as many as her mother, but I digress. Melissa agreed to let her have the flip flops and the lip gloss, but she would have to pay mommy back with money from her piggy bank once we got home. Obviously, Elizabeth was more than willing to agree to these demands.

At the checkout stand, Melissa handed her a $5 bill and she gave her flip flops and lip gloss to the cashier. He dutifully totaled up her bill and told Elizabeth it would be $2.16. She gave him her money and he was kind enough to knock off the extra penny and only charged her $2.15. Elizabeth took the change and quickly gave it to her mother and said "here's what I owe you for the flip flops and lip gloss." Melissa quickly informed Elizabeth this was NOT Elizabeth's money and she would have to pay when we got home.

Upon arrival at home, Melissa sent Elizabeth to her room to get the prized piggy bank. E went to her room and marched back to the kitchen with the purple piggy bank. Melissa went to work immediately trying to get into the piggy bank so she could get the $2.16 cents back from Elizabeth. I had to keep reminding Melissa the bill was only $2.15 since the cashier paid the extra penny. Can you imagine trying to get a penny's worth of interest on a $2.15 purchase??? Melissa couldn't figure out how to open the piggy bank and ultimately ended up breaking the bank. That's right, Melissa broke Elizabeth's piggy bank just to get $2.15 for a pair of flip flops and lip gloss.

And to top it all off, no sooner had Elizabeth paid her mother and put on her flip flops and lip gloss, she began to demand that her mother give the money back. I'll let you guess what happened next.

What Is She Thinking

I am a well-educated man. I have a bachelor's and a master's degree. My wife is a well-educated woman. She has a bachelor's and a juris doctorate. Most of the time one of us is able to come to some understanding of what is going on in the world. The one great exception to this rule is our four-year-old daughter. I can't begin to tell you how many times we look at one another and ask "where did that come from?"

It is entirely possible we ask ourselves that question so often because Elizabeth never stops talking. If she's awake her mouth is moving. There are times I would give money for just two minutes of peace and quiet. And Elizabeth is too smart to fall for the just one quarter bit any more. Now she asks for dollars.

Here's the latest couple of examples of the things Elizabeth says and the questions she asks.

About three weeks ago, Elizabeth began telling us she wanted a new house. There were several different ways she shared this us. One way was just plain saying she wanted a new house and we needed to get her one. One day her new house needed to be near Grandma's house. The next day it had to be much bigger than our current house. The next day she wanted to know if she could buy a big house when she got bigger. Neither of us know what prompted the questions about a new house, but they are still popping up three or four times a week.

Another oddity for us came in just the last week. She came home from Grandma's one day and told us she wanted a new name. When I told her we had thought long and hard to come up with a really pretty name, Elizabeth said she didn't like it and wanted a new one. When we asked her what name she had in mind, she immediately said her new name should be Melissa. I told her that was her mother's name and if we changed her name to Melissa, what would her mother use for a name. Without missing a beat, my daughter told me her name should be Melissa and her mother could be Elizabeth.

Just this evening we were sitting in the car while Melissa ran into Braums for milk, I decided I would play a game on my phone while we waited. Elizabeth was in the back seat and saw me reach for the phone. Here is how the conversation went:

E: Who are you going to call?
Me: No one.

E: Why did you get out your phone?
Me: I am just going to play a game?

E: You are going to play a game?
Me: Yes.

E: You are going to play a game?
Me: Yes.

E: You are going to play a game?
Me: Yes.

E: You are going to play a game?
Me: YES!!

And thankfully her mother returned at this time to give me a respite from repeatedly answering the same question.

If anyone has any suggestions to help us understand what Elizabeth is thinking, we would be extremely grateful. Additionally, if you have any suggestion how to get some peace and quiet - those would be even more appreciated.

Who Decides What's a Special Interest

About ten years ago I was asked to come speak to an honors American government class at the University of Oklahoma. That's right - this proud OSU graduate went to Norman to try to help some OU students with their education. But I digress. The instructor was a friend of mine from high school and he wanted me to share a little about how things actually worked at the state capitol. That's right he wanted me to summarize the legislative process in less than one hour.

One question from a young lady on the second row has really stuck with me over the years and it was a question I had never really considered. "Why should we believe what you're telling us? You just represent a special interest group?"

Up to that point I hadn't ever thought of my role at OPC as being that of a special interest group. I certainly recognized I had a responsibility to represent the interests of Oklahoma's pork industry, but if I was simply explaining the facts of the situation and challenges our industry was facing that surely didn't make us a special interest group. Did it?

Pick-up the newspaper today. Turn on the TV or the radio. Visit a political or news website. Somewhere you'll find a story relating to cap-and-trade or financial services reform or the gulf oil spill. And in virtually every one of those stories will be some comment blaming the "special interest groups" who are opposed to what new policy the government is proposing. It doesn't matter who is opposed to the policy - the opposition is always the special interests.

When the media is writing about cap-and-trade legislation or global warming legisation and they tell you the agricultural special interests are opposed to new legislation, why don't they also tell you the environmental special interests are supporting the legislation.? Why aren't those who believe in global warming the special interests? On the state level, when we start pitting funding for meals for senior citizens against additional funding for education, which side is the special interest side?

What I'm driving at is every group or individual that pushes some legislative or policy agenda represents a special interest. Unless it is those very rare occasion where everyone in the country shares the same feelings or interest, it is something pushed by a special interest. A couple of examples - and even these are not perfect. The first is the belief the US should go to war with Japan following the bombing of Pearl Harbor. The second is the desire for justice following the 9-11 terrorist strikes. These are cases where there was an overwhelming majority - nearly a unanimity of opinion as to what was in the country's best interest.

Today, you see groups pushing for legislation regulating puppy mills. Let's limit the amount of salt in our foods. Let's pass a tax on sodas. Let's use more corn for ethanol. Let's stop all off-shore drilling for oil. Let's drill in ANWR. Everyone should drive a hybrid and I want to drive an SUV.

Legislators go out on the campaign trail and tell you they won't let the special interests run our state or nation, but they never tell you which groups are the special interests. The Obama administration said they are shocked the oil and gas industry had input into regulating off-shore drilling. And then they turn around and appoint a former lead counsel from an environmental advocacy group to be a lead administrator in EPA's water division. They are opposed to special interests from "corporate agriculture" but the deputy secretary of USDA is an outspoken advocate for organic farmers.

I'm not here to tell you that all special interests are bad. Obviously I think the work I do at OPC to represent the needs of our industry is the right thing to do and that it is in the best interest of the country. Just because the animal rights activists or the environmental groups have a different "interest" than I do, it doesn't make ME the special interests.

Who decides what's a special interest? Ultimately everyone makes their own decisions and, if they'll take a step back and really look at the situation, they'll find that every interest is a special interest in some form or another.

The ink wasn't even dry on this entry when one special interest started calling opposition to their specific interest a "special interest group". Here's the quote from an Associated Press news story about State Question 744 - “It’s really a shame that these special interest groups have decided to use scare tactics, to play politics with our children’s future,” said Walton Robinson, communications director for the Yes on 744 coalition. “Oklahoma’s kids deserve better.” While I'm all for teachers - my mother was a teacher and one of my sister-in-laws is a teacher - a group pushing to add $850 million plus to education at the expense of the rest of state government is clearly a "special interest group." Oh the irony...

The Forest and the Trees

I don't play the lottery. I would bet I haven't spent $50 on lottery tickets since Oklahoma set up the state lottery.

I know that many people in Oklahoma feel the lottery is a sin. That it is a "tax" on the underprivileged. I have even joked it is a tax on people who are bad at math.

Having said all that, I'm a supporter of the lottery. This morning's paper included another letter to the editor bashing the lottery and asking where all the money it was supposed to create for education has gone. The legislature spent valuable time this session saying children - who ultimately benefit from the proceeds of the lottery - can't be used in commercials to promote the lottery.

I will agree the lottery has not created the revenue stream it was projected to create. In fact it has fallen far short of expectations. Were we sold a bill of goods from the governor's office and from lottery supporters when it was proposed - maybe. But the simple fact in all of this is it HAS GENERATED ADDITIONAL REVENUE for education. We can argue about whether it has generated $10 million or a $100 million, but you can't argue it has created additional revenue for education.

While virtually every part of state government took a cut in funding this legislative session - including a 2.9% cut for common education, whatever money education got from the lottery was money they wouldn't have had if the lottery didn't exist.

Those that want to argue the pros and cons of having a lottery need to look for a new argument than the one about "where's the money." We can all be disappointed the revenue isn't what was projected, but it is still more than what we had before.

If you don't like the lottery, don't play. I said earlier I don't play much because my wife doesn't like it. Not on from a morality perspective, but from a good use of money perspective. No one makes you play the lottery.

Those who continue to bash the lottery solely on the basis of how much money it has generated are being extremely short-sighted. They're the folks who can't see the forest for the trees.

What Are You Thinking?!?!

Anyone who has been the parent of young child has to have asked themselves the question "what are you thinking?"

This has been an especially challenging and puzzling day. Anyone who has seen the TV today knows that we had all kinds of flooding problems in the Oklahoma City area.

We started our day with a plan to all ride to work together. The impetus of that plan was Melissa's lack of desire to put gas in her car and if she rode with me she wouldn't have to fill up until at least tomorrow. First thing out of the box today, we were behind schedule because we overslept - that is Melissa and I overslept - Elizabeth was up before 6 am and came into our room to lay down on the floor. When we finally crawled out of bed at 7:30 it was time to rush, rush, rush. Hunt for your umbrella. Look for your raincoat. And out the door we went into the falling rain.

I'll skip the details of the drive in, but ultimately we ended up at May and 29th where the intersection appeared completely flooded and a fire engine with lights flashing was blocking our intended path down 29th Street. Seeing all the water and stranded cars, we made the smart decision to head back home. We told Elizabeth we couldn't get through the water to Sylvia's house and she began to ask if Grandma was OK. We tried to reassure her that everything was good, but the fire engine and flashing lights scared her and she was upset that something was wrong at Sylvia's.

When we finally got back to the house, Elizabeth insisted on calling Grandma and whatever they talked about (it was in Spanish so I couldn't understand) ended up making Elizabeth cry because she was worried about her Grandma.

It wasn't 60 seconds later that all was forgotten and our 4-year-old was looking for something fun to do in our house. And yes, we've been trapped inside all day.

But worry about Grandma wasn't far away. Throughout the morning and into the early afternoon as we watched the news coverage of the flooding, every time a fire engine was shown on TV Elizabeth asked again about Grandma and Grandma's house.

Even this evening as she talked on the phone to her Grammy, she told Grammy how much she loved her Grandma and how she was worried about Grandma. And just before her bath, she asked me if we would be able to drive to Grandma's in the morning.

I'm sure I'll never get it right, but I promise to keep trying to figure out what is that little girl thinking.

The Words Are There But I Can't Get Them Out

Those that know me would say I am never at a loss for words. And in almost every situation that is true. I have spoken on the same program as a former Oklahoma governor. I meet with congressmen and senators regularly. I can appear in media interviews with TV and radio reporters and never miss a beat.

This afternoon, however, I experienced again a situation that would have left me speechless and I marveled at the grace a friend of mine used to handle the situation.

More than 10 years ago, I was asked to read a poem as part of my grandfather's funeral. It was his favorite poem. It wasn't long and it wasn't hard to read, but when I stood in front at the front of the church the words just wouldn't come out. I simply was not able to speak. I could read the words on the page, but I couldn't say them aloud.

This afternoon, for the third time in recent memory, I watched as a close friend of mine was asked to share thoughts on someone they were very close to. Today Mitch stood at the front of the church and shared stories about his step-father. Stories about playing with the grandkids, being a loving husband, and living a full life. Mitch did it without tears, without stuttering, and with a smile on his face. I couldn't keep from crying just listening and even now, hours after the service is over, I still get a huge lump in my throat and watery eyes just thinking about it.

A little more than a year ago, I watched another great friend stand and deliver a eulogy for his closest friend and co-worker. Tom had called me the evening prior to the funeral and asked if I would help him write his speech. I wish I could say I was "happy" to help him, but this was not a task I wanted. Tom had great ideas and I was able to add a few thoughts and help him organize his thoughts for the next day's services. On that Saturday, he stood at the front of the church and he laughed at himself - just as Susan would have. He told stories and reminded us why we all loved Susan. While he showed some emotion, he managed to get through the speech and did just a remarkable job to add a little joy to what was otherwise a really sad day.

Two years ago, I attended the funeral of one of the greatest people I had ever known. He was a teacher, a cowboy, a leader, a father, and a grandfather. He was an icon. At a funeral service set in the middle of a pasture, Clem's son Bart was asked to share a little about his life growing up with his dad. I had worked with Clem and Bart for many years and I thought I knew a great deal about their relationship and life together. But what Bart shared with us that morning showed everyone a side of his dad that few people knew about. He talked about boating in a small lake and trips across the country with his dad. His voice was calm and steady and it sure seemed that his dad - who had one of the most recognized voices in our country - was helping Bart get through the morning.

I share these short stories with you to demonstrate my admiration for these men's ability to get through what must have been the most difficult experience of their lives. All were accomplished public speakers prior to these experiences, but to the best of my knowledge they had never been put in that situation before.

Several years ago, someone very dear to me - someone who helped shape my life and career - called me and asked if I would be willing to share a few thoughts/words at their funeral. They weren't facing an impending demise, but they were making plans for "what if something happens." While I was honored beyond words, I had to decline because I know that I would stand at the front of that church and choke on the words. I was sure the words would be there, but I wouldn't be able to get them out.

Sometimes It's Hard Being A Parent

It is one of the facts of life. It may be one of the most difficult facts of life for some people to deal with. For a soon-to-be four year-old, it is simply not possible to comprehend. Anyone have any guesses what I'm talking about? That's right, I'm talking about dealing with death.

Earlier this week, Melissa (with me in a agreement) made the decision to put down her cat Max. Max has been acting very out of sorts for the past 6-8 months. He's been sick more often than any time in the past. He's been taking much longer to recover from his frequent fights after a couple of nights out on the town. He clearly hasn't been has himself. After consulting with vet, we decided that we couldn't begin keeping Max indoors all the time and that it was very unlikely he would be able to return to the quality of life he'd experienced all his life.

While Melissa and I are comfortable with our decision, it has been quite a challenge explaining this to Elizabeth. As a four-year-old, she clearly doesn't understand what it means for something to die. I'm not being callous or crude, just stating the fact.

This isn't the first time she's been exposed to death. She's been around her Meema after the passing of Meema's father. She went to the hospital with me to see my friend Susan just before she passed. She knows that her "sister's" dog Blue died.

As adults we can accept the finality of death. That we'll never again see the friend that has died. At times, we may struggle with it, but ultimately we all learn to accept it. To a four-year-old the concept of not-to-be-seen-again is completely unfathomable.

Elizabeth was told that Susan was really sick and the only way she could feel better was to go live with Jesus. That's also what she was told with death of Meema's father. When Blue died, her "sister" who is only a year older than she is, told Elizabeth that Blue had gone to live in the sky with the stars and Jesus.

After we made the decision about Max, Melissa told her that Max was going to live with Blue. We told her Max was sick and he would feel better if he went to live with Jesus and Blue. While Elizabeth says she understands, it is clear she really doesn't believe Max won't be back.

This afternoon Elizabeth asked me when Max would be coming home. When I told her he wouldn't be coming home, she asked me what he would do for a "potty-box" since his litter box was still in the garage. I don't know how many times she told me or her mother that she wanted Max to come home.

I don't know how long it will take before Elizabeth really gets that Max won't be coming home, but I'm guessing it will be quite some time. There are times when out of nowhere she'll ask us if we remember going to see Susan in the hospital or that Blue has gone to be with Jesus. Both are events that happened about a year ago but from time to time they come back to her.

While the decision to put Max down was hard for Melissa, it has been much harder to answer questions from Elizabeth about Max. I know it will get easier with time, but that isn't much help today.

My Apologies to Dennis Miller

In case you've been living under a rock and haven't seen a television broadcast or heard the news on the radio or read a newspaper or spoken with another living human being, the country's economy is in the tank. And, for those who live in our lovely state of Oklahoma, so is our state's economy.

Call me Captain Obvious but after listening the umpteenth state agency with a news release or interview stating how many people will get laid off and what programs will be cut and why their precious agency and its mission should be spared, I decided there must be this HUGE beach where everyone has gone to bury their heads in the sand and hope this problem will just go away.

Now, I don't want to get off on a rant here (that's the Dennis Miller part of this post), but I'm sick of hearing why this agency or that agency should keep their entire budget while other agencies do the sacrificing. Call me cold or heartless or whatever else you want, but I don't want to hear it anymore.

I'll make you king for day. You choose, we need to cut $600 million out of last year's state budget. We'll have about $5.2 billion to work with. Now get after it. Oh, wait, I forgot to tell you that before you make any reductions to the budget, common education (which makes up about 35% of the budget) can't afford any cuts without laying off teachers. And when you add in Higher education that number jumps even closer to 50% of the budget. Now, without taking any significant funds from half the budget, make the $600 million in cuts.

Think that is easy? Wait, there are more sacred cows that must be spared. Corrections can't take any more cuts without releasing prisoners. You remember that wonderful audit we paid $1 million for? The audit found that DOC was doing about all they could to stretch a dollar and changes in laws would be required. So far, its been at least two years since the audit and not one thing has been done.

Want another sacred cow? How about meals for senior citizens? What about public safety and the Highway Patrol? What about the Department of Agriculture and its food inspectors? What about DHS that is in a federal Department of Justice lawsuit about how the children in state custody are being cared for?

Should more agencies take furlough days? Should there be more retirement programs and buyouts? State Legislators have even been told to purchase their own office supplies because funds are so tight. O.K. I'll admit comparing buying ink pens and paper to feeding senior citizens is a poor example, but you get my point.

Everyone in Oklahoma has experienced some loss during this economic downturn. Everyone has been asked to make some sacrifice. My family is not immune. It is very possible that my wife may be furloughed for an unknown number of days in the next year.

I don't hate senior citizens or school teachers or prison guards or anyone else who works for the state. What I hate is the endless line of people standing up to tell me why their precious group should be shielded from cuts. I guess I'm willing to give a group a free pass if they can tell me where to get the money and they'll be willing to call those unfortunate souls whose funds I just used to protect another group or agency. Are the teachers willing to call the senior citizens and explain that hot meals for seniors just aren't as important as educating our young people? I don't think so - and neither am I.

So I leave you with a simple request. If you don't have a solution to the problem, if you can't identify where we should take the money from to protect your precious fiefdom, then be quiet. We all know you're hurting that budget cuts for everyone will be painful. I mean we all know it unless you've been living under a rock and haven't seen a television broadcast or heard the news on the radio or read a newspaper or spoken with another living human being...

The Subtle Bigotry of Low Expecations

The Subtle Bigotry of Low Expectations


Several weeks ago I sat in a meeting with a few legislators and a number of interested parties to discuss a particular piece of legislation. Although the issue did not directly connect to OPC or our industry, a comment from Senator James Halligan really hit home for me.

Senator Halligan talked about the subtle bigotry of low expectations and how important it is to set high expectations. Rarely will a person exceed what is expected of them. If your expectations are low, chances are performance will mirror those expectations.

For years, producers throughout Oklahoma have participated in an advertising campaign sharing the care and concern we have for our animals, employees, neighbors, environment, and communities with citizens of our state. I have no doubt the owners and operators of our farms share this commitment. What I wonder; however, is how do we convey this commitment to our employees and what are we willing to do to demonstrate this commitment to everyone around us.

A couple of weeks ago, we added an item to our website titled 100 one percent solutions. This was not an original idea – in fact, our colleagues in Indiana shared this with us and we chose to adapt it to Oklahoma. Here is the introduction from that list:

"More and more, pork producers are being second-guessed by non-farmers about production practices. Whether it is environmental, animal welfare, or food safety issues – or just being a good neighbor, the gap between producers and the communities they live and work is growing.”

"Many producers, frustrated by this reality, are seeking a silver bullet to fix all the problems. That won’t happen."

The premise behind this list is there is not a single action producers can do to address the challenges that lie before us. However, we can partake in one percent solutions, which add up quickly.

These items are not controversial, nor are they only doable from the “management” side of farm operations. The list outlines a number of items that everyone who works in our industry can do. Not only “can” we do these things, we must do these things. The owners and operators of our farms should expect that we live up to these simple concepts.

Expectations have a major impact on the accomplishments and goals of individuals. If you set low expectations, you’ll get low performance. Set those expectations high and hold everyone accountable to those expectations. That’s how we’ll move our industry forward.

To find the list in its entirety, visit the OPC Home page. Also, stay tuned to the @okpork twitter feed to get one percent reminders!

The Best in Oklahoma

What do the numbers 35,000; 300,000; and 1,300,000 have in common? I’ll give you the answer a little later.

For the last four days and the next four days I am blessed to have the opportunity to work with some of the finest youth in our state. In case you’re not up to date on what’s happening with today’s youth, the Oklahoma Youth Expo (OYE) opened last Friday and thousands of young people and their families have flocked to the Oklahoma State Fairgrounds in Oklahoma City for the “world’s largest junior livestock show.”

Oklahoma is blessed with some of the best show pigs and even better show kids in the country. And Wednesday afternoon I watched the best of the best show their pigs. Several years ago, the OYE started a showmanship event where each county would submit the names of the best exhibitors in all the livestock projects and those county champions would compete in a statewide showmanship contest. Today more than 60 exhibitors in junior, intermediate, and senior age groups competed in the swine showmanship contest. As the judge worked with through the contest, he narrowed each age group down through a series of heats and interactions with the exhibitors until he finally arrived at the champion and reserve champion showers in each age group.

These were not the kids with the championship hogs. These were the championship kids. In a world where the day’s news tells us how bad our kids are, Wednesday I saw kids that I’m betting will never end up on the police blotter. They shook hands with one another. They congratulated the selected champions. Sure the majority were disappointed they did not win, but the simple fact is that everyone of these kids was a winner. They had already won their county contests just to qualify. On Friday, the champion showman from all the species will compete to see who the best overall showmen in the state are. The hog kids will show sheep and cattle. The cattle kids will show sheep and hogs. Everyone will show all the species. It is truly a spectacular event.

Friday also marks the start of the market animal shows for sheep, cattle and swine. The OYE will culminate with the coronation of the grand champions on Sunday evening. With a laser light show and a limousine ride into the arena and a rock-concert environment, the breed champions from all the species will take to the State Fair Arena floor to be recognized for their efforts.

And then the grand finale will happen Monday afternoon at the sale of champions in the Arena. Check out the OYE website at www.okyouthexpo.com and see the full schedule. The rest of this week provides a fabulous opportunity for everyone to see the best of Oklahoma. I encourage you to take advantage of it.

I grew up participating the youth livestock program. While I didn’t show hogs, my brothers and I traveled all across the state showing purebred and commercial heifers. The early mornings and late nights feeding, watering, brushing, exercising and working with our calves taught us responsibility. They taught us teamwork. Our projects taught us about life and death. They taught us where our food came from. They taught us about winning and losing. Today's kids are learning those same lessons.

Oh, what did those number have in common? They represent the investment the OYE and its sponsors will make in our youth this year. $35,000 is the amount of scholarships presented to gilt exhibitors in the past three days. $300,000 is the total amount of the scholarships that will be presented in all the species during the show. And $1,300,000 represents the total of all scholarships, premiums and sale receipts from the entire OYE. Again, it is a tremendous investment in a tremendous bunch of kids.

Will You Buy Me Some Papers?

“Will you buy me some papers?”

This seems like such a strange question when you think that it came from the lips of my 3-year-old daughter. That’s right, Elizabeth asked one of the other children – the 4-year-old no less – if he would buy her some papers so she could go to Mexico with the rest of the children and her MeeMa.

If you haven’t met Elizabeth or haven’t heard me brag about my extremely intelligent daughter (I admit that it I could be more than a little biased in this matter) one of the most surprising things to the people we meet is that Elizabeth speaks both English and Spanish. I’m not sure it is possible for a 3-year-old to be “fluent” in a language, but Elizabeth doesn’t just speak Spanish, she also thinks in Spanish.

We’ve all heard of the person who has a second or third language. In Elizabeth’s case, she has two “first” languages. From the time she was 14 weeks old, she has been going to MeeMa’s house. And there she has been given the gift to learn to speak in Spanish at the same time her mother and I have been teaching her to speak English. It is truly one of the most incredible gifts Elizabeth will ever get in her life.

On more than one occasion Elizabeth has chastised her mother and I because we don’t speak Spanish. She thinks that everyone should speak both Spanish and English.

Several times each year MeeMa heads back to Mexico to see her family and she usually takes along the children that have become Elizabeth’s “brothers and sisters.” When one of these trips is approaching, it is inevitable that Elizabeth will start asking us if she can go to Mexico with MeeMa. We’ve told her for some time that because she didn’t have a passport she could not go with the others. Since the concept of a passport is somewhat lost on a 3-year-old, MeeMa told her she had to have special papers to go to Mexico. That’s what prompted her to ask one of the other children to "buy her some papers."

This afternoon, my wife and I spent more than 30 minutes at the downtown post office with Elizabeth taking pictures and filling out forms so we could get her a passport. While she didn’t care for the wait and didn’t want to sit still for very long, the thought of getting some papers really put a smile on her face.

When MeeMa and kids head off to Mexico this spring it is very likely that Elizabeth will be headed south as well. By then she’ll have her passport and someone will have “bought her some papers.”

I'm Mad as Hell...

"I owed $34,000 and only paid $3,500."
"We owed over $100,000 and paid less than $10,000."

By now everyone in the country that owns a television must have seen one of these infuriating commercials advertising some law firm or CPA outfit that claims to be able to help you reduce the debt you owe to the IRS. I said infuriating and I'm not sure that is anywhere near a strong enough descriptor for how mad I get watching these commercials and the claims made by the people in them.

No one likes to pay taxes, but the vast majority of us do our part. We pay our taxes when they are due. We may grouse and complain about paying them, but we do pay them on time.

Admittedly, we pay on time every time because failure to pay results in the IRS taking your stuff. As my wife is fond of saying, "they just take your s#&t and they almost never give it back."

What chaps me the most about these ads is the bragging about getting out of paying what you really owe. We all know that in many cases, being just a little late or making an honest mistake on your taxes can result in the IRS determining that you owe additional money and since you're "late" paying the additional money, you also owe penalties and interest.

In cases of honest mistakes, there should be some leeway for reducing or eliminating penalties. But for someone who just didn't pay on time, I have absolutely no sympathy. In fact, as I often say about my wife's client's, they should be put under the jail.

And then to turn on the television and see some joker smile and tell me how much money the didn't pay just turns me every which way but loose.

Do I believe that as a whole we all pay too much in taxes? Yes. Do I wish I could pay less in taxes? Absolutely. Should deadbeats who choose not to pay on time or attept to cheat their taxes and get caught be  allowed to get off paying only a fraction of what they owe? Not no but HELL NO.

I'm mad as hell ...
 

Reader's Digest Is Right

When I got home this evening Melissa told me Elizabeth had once again refused to take a nap and had been quite a handful all afternoon. I talked to E to see what she had been doing and why she didn't take a nap. In a very assertive 3 year-old voice she told me "she wasn't tired."

As I watched her run around the house looking for someone or something to play with, I thought it would be a great time to get on the floor and wrestle a little. We played superman. We played tickle. We played tigers. You name it, we spent almost 30 minutes rolling around on the floor and she giggled and squealed and laughed uncontrollably. One minute she was begging me to stop tickling and the next she was begging for more.

I've discovered there is nothing as intoxicating as listening to her laugh and giggle. Whatever the troubles in my world, a few minutes of laughter from Elizabeth simply make those troubles seem small. Laughter really is the best medicine.

The Most Beautiful Place on Earth

I admit I'm a junkie - a golf junkie. From watching on TV to craving the newest gadgets and clubs, I simply can't get enough golf. Much to the dismay of my wife, I have spent the entire afternoon watching the AT&T Pebble Beach Pro-Am.

When you see Pebble Beach on television, the views are absolutely breathtaking. What's even more impressive is that the television views don't begin to do justice to the actual views from the course.

I have been blessed with several opportunities to visit Pebble Beach - I've even been able to play the golf course three times.

My first trip to Pebble was about 10 years ago with my parents, brothers and sister-in-laws. We were staying in San Francisco and drove down the coast to the Monterrey Peninsula. We went on the 17 Mile Drive and had lunch in the The Lodge looking out over the 18th green. Words simply can't describe the visuals along the coast. Some call it the most beautiful place on earth and I have never seen anything that comes close.

My second trip to Pebble was on a golf outing with some friends. Three of us spent three nights and two days of golf, culminating with 18 holes at Pebble Beach. In addition to Pebble, we also played Spyglass Hill and The Links at Spanish Bay. All three courses have holes that play along the coast and you can see the ocean and even when you can't see it, many times you can hear the waves crashing on the shore.

My third trip to Pebble was another golf outing and again we stayed at The Inn at Spanish Bay. At the end of each day you can sit on the porch, sipping your favorite beer or cocktail, smoking a cigar, listening to the bag piper play, and watching the sun set on the Pacific Ocean. When you combine the comaraderie, the music, and colors reflecting off the ocean, it is one of the most relaxing and impressive experiences I have had in my life.

My fourth trip to Pebble was a family visit with my wife and her family. We had flown to California to visit Melissa's brother and his kids. We stayed with Scott for several days and then headed down from Modesto to the Peninsula. Melissa's dad is 80 years old and it was his first trip to Pebble. To see the joy and wonder in his face as we walked out to the 18th green and pleasure on his face when he wears the shirt we bought him reinforces how everyone who travels to Pebble comes away with great memorie.

Golfing was the focus of my fifth trip and it included another new experience for me - a trip to the spa. After two days of golf and some sore muscles, I decided a massage sounded like a good idea. I hadn't ever had a massage before, but now that is one more memory that is priceless.

As I watched the golf tourney this afternoon, I saw the professional players playing shots on greens and out of bunkers and from the rough that were the same places I had played from when I have been there. I even watched two touring professionals make a 9 on hole 14 today. I've played that hole three times and I know I made a 10 once and I think it was a pair of 8's the other two times. It just blew my mind to watch those "pros" struggle with the same shots I struggled with.

As you finish a round of golf at Pebble, you play the 18th with the Pacific Ocean crashing on the cliffs all along the left side of the hole. For an amateur golfer like me, keeping your focus on the next shot while the sun glistens on the bay is extremely difficult. But to stand on the green at 18 and soak in the view, you realize you may be in the most beautiful place on earth.

Have You No Shame

As I sat in the recliner watching the evening news tonight, I finally reached my limit as it relates to the shameless fundraising advertising being conducted by the Humane Society of the United States.

HSUS works tirelessly to portray themselves as an entity that really cares about our puppies and kittens. They go to great lengths convince you that if you'll just send them $19 per month they can save puppies and kittens from horrible people all over the country and the world.

Everyone loves puppies and kittens and no sane person wants to see animals that abused. But claiming to prevent abuse of animals and intentionally misleading the public to raise money to further an underlying agenda just seems to fly in the face of the charitable mission HSUS purports to accomplish.

While the ads on TV push the idea that HSUS is affiliated with the local humane shelters that actually care for animals, the fact remains that HSUS spends a very, very, very small amount of the tens of millions of dollars they raise each year actually providing care for animals. In April 2009, a TV station in Atlanta did a feature on HSUS and its fundraising efforts and where they actually spent the money they raised. A summary of the story and a link to the video feature can be found at http://activistcash.com/news_detail.cfm?hid=3899.

The story indicates that in its general fundraising efforts, only about 4 cents of every dollars actually ends up in your local animal shelter helping dogs and cats that are in need. Further the story focused on HSUS fundraising efforts following Hurricane Katrina and pointed out that a specific call for donations to help the animals that were impacted by Katrina brought in $34 million, but only $7 million actually went to help animals - $27 million went to fund HSUS administration and their true underlying agenda of forcing a vegan lifestyle on the rest of the country.
HSUS even went so far as to start a fundraising effort for animals impacted by the earthquake in Haiti. While a huge number of the humans living in Haiti are still struggling to dig out of the destruction, HSUS is trying to get people around the world to donate money for the animals. While the people of Haiti are enduring suffering that is beyond the imagination, HSUS thinks we should be giving money for the dogs and cats. If that isn't an organization with out-of-whack priorities, I don't know what is.


I don't fault anyone who wants to help a local animal shelter. What I hope is that if you want to help your local shelter, you'll contribute direct to that shelter. Don't let HSUS have a vast majority of your donation for their vegan-creating drives and political efforts. Give your dollars where they can actually do some good.

I have thought about writing this piece for months, but seeing the add during tonight's evening news really pushed my buttons. I encourage everyone to support the charities of their choice, but please take just a few minutes to really understand where the charities will use your donations. Some of these charitable organizations - HSUS especially - have absolutely no shame.

Do you want to fix health-care?

Everyone has an opinion as to whether to not the current proposals in Congress for how to fix health care in this country are good or bad. Few people are indifferent as most have a very strong opinion one way or another.

If you're hoping I'll tell you whether or not I like the plans, you're out of luck because there are parts of what is suggested I really like and parts that I believe are absolutely ridiculous.

What I am willing to share is at least one of my issues with our current system.

Like many folks, I take a daily allergy prescription. Come to think of it, so does my wife and daughter. For the last five years we had used the pharmacy at one of the OKC stores belonging to the world's largest retailer. When we started using this pharmacy, I really appreciated the fact that I could get prescriptions filled in a relatively short time frame and they always had what I needed.

For the past year, whatever prescription I have dropped off has been a huge inconvenience. Inevitably, whatever the drug and the number of pills being prescribed, the pharmacy would NOT have enough on the shelf to fill the script. The first time they told me they couldn't fill a script but here are a few pills to get you through until we can get some additional stock, I thought that was a good thing. When I made the decision in the last 30 days to move to another pharmacy, the decision was based on the fact that almost every script I took to the world's largest retailer received a partial fill and would ultimately require multiple trips to the pharmacy.

Here was the deal breaker for me - I had a sinus infection and was prescribed a very common antibiotic. I took the script to the pharmacy and when I went back to pick it up later in the day was told that they couldn't fill all 10 days worth, but they gave me three days worth of the drug. While that was frustrating, I could almost accept it. However, when I returned three days later, the pharmacy still couldn't fill the rest of my script and I had to come back a third - and wait, you guessed it - a fourth time to get a 10 supply of a common antibiotic.

If only it ended there. Even refilling my allergy prescriptions was often a challenge. I'm no brain surgeon, but even I'm smart enough to have my computer tell me when a current customer - especially one who had been a customer for five years - had a refill coming up on a script and to be sure I had enough product in stock to REfill that script. I can't even count the scripts that my wife, daughter or I had filled on a partial basis.

So, we decided we had had enough and we'd move to a new pharmacy. When we asked our new pharmacy, another major pharmacy chain, they told us to just bring in our current bottles and they would arrange to transfer our existing scripts from our previous pharmacy. Since the new pharmacy is just down the street we thought this would be a good fit. What we have learned so far is that is a new pharmacy same service challenges.

I took my allergy med bottle into the new pharmacy and gave them my insurance card. They looked over the bottle and told me if I'd like to wait they could fill the script in 40 minutes. I had several days worth of meds left so I told them I'd be back the next day. They asked when and said they needed to keep my insurance card. I didn't think that would be a problem. I took the bottle in to transfer the script on Thursday. I was due to go back on Friday and I forgot. Forgot again Saturday and Sunday. On Monday after work I happened to drive by the new pharmacy and it jogged my memory that I needed to stop and pick up my script. I parked the car and walked inside and patiently waited in line. While waiting, my wife called and asked where I was. When I told her, she said the pharmacy had just called five minutes earlier to tell us they couldn't fill my script at this store, but they had filled at another location that is only 10 miles away. While I appreciated the effort, it sure struck me as the same kind of thing that had prompted me to leave my previous pharmacy.

After I got over some of my initial frustration, I loaded up the wife and headed to the other pharmacy for my script. Upon my arrival, the staff spent several minutes looking for my script and then told me they hadn't processed my insurance or any of my other information and they needed me to give them all my particulars. Now, I had already given all this info to the pharmacy near my home and this was another in the same chain, I assumed they would already have me in the computer and this would be easy. It was anything but easy. In fact, the pharmacy near my home hadn't entered anything AND they still had my insurance card. So, after being given four days to fill a very common allergy medicine script and to enter me into the computer, nothing had been done. Fortunately my wife was with me and had her card, but it was still a hassle.

I wish that I could tell you that was the end of my trials, but it really wasn't. My daughter has come down with an ear infection and a growing cough so I took her to the doctor just prior to the winter storm. The doc prescribed an antibiotic and said she'd send it directly to the pharmacy. It was about 2:30 p.m. My wife stopped to pick up the script at 5:30 - three hours later - and they said there was no record of the script. They couldn't find it anywhere. We were resigned to calling the doctor this morning and trying to get the script sent again. After Elizabeth was up coughing most of the night I was more than a little unhappy and I was out driving in the storm early this morning, headed to the doctor's office to get a hard-copy of the script. My wife just happened to call the pharmacy again this morning and wouldn't you know they had miraculously found the lost script and had it filled. All I had to do was go get it.

Needless to say, I finally got Elizabeth's antibiotic. The bad part is after only two tries on my part at a new pharmacy, it isn't any better than what I was using. The issues have been different, but they are still issues.

Now that I've finished my rant, here's my suggestion for how to fix our health care system. Our providers need to remember that I am the customer. That should make giving me what I want and when I want it the number one goal of the health care provider. I changed pharmacies because the one I had been using seemed to think it wasn't important to give me a full fill on any of my scripts. My new pharmacy hasn't been any better. Anybody think a third pharmacy would be the charm?

White Death

"White Death is coming."

That was the quote from a local radio talk show host - fully tongue in cheek (I hope) - regarding the projected winter storm that may hit Oklahoma later this week.

Is the coming storm another projection like one almost a year ago when we were going to get 6-8 inches of snow in OKC and only got a a very light dusting? Is it similar to last month's projections that the Christmas Eve storm would leave a little snow in OKC but it shouldn't be anything too big?

Last week I posted to my Facebook page a question regarding weather forecasting and the constant interuptions to regular programming for a weather update. Who decides when programming should be interupted? How bad should a storm be before we put a map in the corner of the TV? Last week's "heavy storms" as indicated by one TV station had a little bit of lightning, but almost nothing that was severe - and I don't mean severe by my definition. The National Weather Service didn't call most of the storms severe.

Today, if there is a storm cloud anywhere in the state, we get a little map in the corner of the TV screen blocking our view and telling us that it might be raining somewhere.

When I was a kid and the TV played that obnoxious tone telling us there was a weather alert coming, you stopped what you were doing and paid attention to see where the storm was. Today, you just kind of shake your head and wish they'd stop interupting your favorite show.

I remember clearly what I saw on TV on May 3, 1999. The visuals of the storms were simply indescribable. The destruction and awesome power of that storm almost defied words. There is no question that TV and radio coverage saved lives that day. Perhaps that's what has prompted what we get today.

I recognize the weather in Oklahoma is very unpredictable and that severe weather can appear out of nowhere. That should make it all the more imperative that when we get a weather alert that it really be for severe weather. Did you ever hear of the boy who cried wolf?

I don't know what the storm later this week will hold for Oklahoma. It may a major winter storm event with ice, freezing rain, sleet, and inches of snow before it leaves. It might also be a rain cloud with cold north breeze behind it. We won't know until it gets here.

One thing I can tell you with absolute certainty. Between now and Thursday's expected arrival our TV weathermen will be telling us over and over and over and over how bad this storm will be. And who knows, they might be right.

There's never enough time...

One of the things I have really enjoyed about my job at OPC is the interaction I have with members of the agricultural media. Sometimes I enjoy talking to other media as well, but members of the ag media seem to be less confrontational than other media members.

Case in point was this morning's trip to KWTV (News9) in Oklahoma City to shoot a 2 1/2 minute television spot for Saturday's 6:40 a.m. "In The Field" with Ron Hays - assuming some big breaking news story doesn't bump Ron's segment out of the morning show entirely.

If you've never had the opportunity to do television before, it is amazing how much time is spent making sure the microphone is in the right place and that your glasses don't reflect the glaring lights too much and that you stand in the exact spot and on and on and on.

"Remember, you're just supposed to look at Ron like you're having a conversation with him," is the general instruction and so you stand there - afraid to move - and wait for your turn to answer a question or two. And while you wait, Ron turns to speak directly to the camera as he introduces the segment. This always creates an almost irresistable urge to turn and look directly into the camera as well.

Now comes the fun part - we have 10 minutes of material to explain in 2 1/2 minutes. And, by the way, that 2 1/2 minutes includes the intro and exit to the segment.

Getting just the right amount of interview is like a giant game. The interviewer asks a question and you're supposed to provide an answer that fits neatly into the time slot they have designated for your piece. Since this is more of a feature story, we get to shoot the piece in its entirety and then it runs just like we filmed it - no cuts or clips for this segment. If you're doing a news story interview, then you might answer 5 or even 10 questions with 5 or six minutes of spoken material only to see 10 or 15 seconds of what you said show up in the news.

I must have done a hundred of these news interviews or features, but I still get nervous as they start that count 3, 2, 1, and the intro music plays. Inevitably, I get some word or words confused and stammer or stutter through part of the interview, but in 150 seconds the experience is over. We take off the microphone and walk away from the TV studio. Back to Ron's office near his radio studio where we take 5 minutes to cover what we just did in 2 1/2 minutes for television.

If you're shooting a TV interview for a news program there's never enough time to cover everything, but it is amazing what you can do in 150 seconds.

To Run or Not to Run

What do you do with the clowns who choose to take off running when law enforcement attempts to stop them? Just last week there was a shooting in OKC where a citizen chose to run from the police and ended up shooting at an officer who was putting down "stop sticks" in an effort to end the chase. The runner was then shot and killed by police.

The debate in our house starts when we get into whether or not a police chase should have even taken place in this case. (Keep in mind my wife is criminal defense attorney.) Evidently the chase started when an OKC police officer attempted to stop a driver who was not wearing his seatbelt. Her argument is that there should never be a high-speed chase that starts with an attempt to stop someone for a seatbelt violation. My argument is the chase didn't start until the criminal decided to ignore the flashing lights and attempted to elude the officer.

We have this discussion oftern - almost everytime someone runs from a police officer and it makes the news. Who's right? Of course I think I am. I see this as a right and wrong issue. Whether or not I have done anything wrong, the law says when the flashing lights come on behind me, I must stop. There are no allowances for "there was no reason to stop me so it's OK to run."

My wife obviously believes she's right. She contends that since I'm not persecuted by the police, I don't understand why people run. Further, she tells me that it is the police officer's duty to protect the general public. "How does a high speed chase in a residential area protect the public?"

I argue that it takes a criminal with no regard for public life off the streets. She argues that it can't be worth the risk to the public to pursue the criminal. I argue if the criminal would just stop he might not be a criminal and there would be no chase.

It's almost a chicken or egg argument. I won't chase you if you don't run and I won't run if you don't try to stop me.

It's not often that I get engaged in a debate where there is no clear winner. This is one of those cases. Please feel free to share your thoughts. Maybe you can convince me she's right or convince her that I'm right.

Squeeze the Bread and Feed the Fish

I don't have to tell the folks in Oklahoma what happened around here on Christmas Eve. Everyone has a Blizzard of '09 story and here's mine.

Each year at Christmas I load up the wife and kiddo and head out to Cordell and my parent's home. Melissa planned to work for half a day and then we'd be off to mom and dad's around 3 p.m. on Christmas Eve.

That all changed when Elizabeth came in to tell us that there was "something wrong in the fireplace." Let me tell you - when a 3 year old tells you something is wrong in the fireplace, you jump up to see what prompted that comment.  It turns out that she was just hearing sleet hitting the metal cover on the chimney. A quick glance at the television and the reports from western Oklahoma prompted us to move up our trip and we loaded the car and out the door we went. We made it Cordell just ahead of the worst parts of the storm and buttoned up all warm and toasty at mom and dad's.

We were expecting my brother James and his family to join us for Christmas lunch, but they were snowed in at his in-laws. Despite their best efforts, there simply was no way to get back to Cordell on Christmas and it would be at least Saturday afternoon before they could get home. That shouldn't have been a problem but James had been kind enough to help Santa pick out the bicycle and helmet Elizabeth wanted for Christmas.

By Friday afternoon, Melissa and I were getting a little stir-crazy and thought we could run down to James' and get the bike and whatever else James needed us to do. We asked James if there was anything special he needed from the house and our instructions were to "squeeze the bread and feed the fish." I have to admit this was a really strange request. I understood feeding the fish, but squeeze the bread?

We drove south of town to James' house and were pleasantly surprised at how clear the roads were. That pleasure turned to frustration when we arrived at James' drive and found a drift three feet high and 25 to 30 feet long that we simply couldn't drive through. We could have turned around gone home, but we still had fish to feed, bread to squeeze, and a bike to get.

We made the 1/4 mile trek through the snow and over the fences to get to the house and found our way inside. I knew why we were feeding the fish, but I had no idea why we were supposed to squeeze the bread. It turns out that James' wife was making friendship bread and it has to be "squeezed" every other day or so as you make it.

After feeding and squeezing, we grabbed the gifts James had asked us to get and the bike and headed back to the truck. We used a plastic tub and rope to make a "sled" for pulling the gifts with us and I carried the bike.

I'm not in the best of shape, but a 1/4 mile walk is usually not too difficult. However, add a 20 pound bicycle, 4 to 12 inches of snow and the fact it's uphill all the way from the house to the truck, it was a real workout.

Of all the memories from this Christmas, I'll always be able to tell Elizabeth how we fed fish, squeezed bread, and "walked miles in knee-deep snow" to get her bicycle. The only thing missing is that it wasn't uphill both ways.

Welcome to Lindsey's Low Down

Welcome to Lindsey's Low Down. For more than 25 years I have looked for avenues to share my thoughts on a wide and eclectic range of subjects.

In college I had the opportunity to write a column for The Daily O'Collegian.  The topics were usually related to the political issues of the day. I still really enjoy politics and discussing current events with friends. parts of the Low Down will include some of my thoughts on the day's political issues.

The first crack at Low Down comes one day after the massive earthquake hit Haiti. As I watched the news this evening I was struck by how poor that country really is and how devastating this quake was. It reminded me of watching the aftermath of Katrina, the May 3rd tornadoes in Oklahoma City, and 9/11. Low Down will include my thoughts on some current events.

Almost four years ago I wanted to start writing a journal to reflect the events and happenings of as my daughter grew up. I started that journal on a number of occasions and was never happy with how it read. I think I was trying to write too much and too often. The Low Down will include some observations of the life of a three year old girl and her parents.

My wife is an attorney in the public defenders office and I spend a great deal of time working in the political environment that is the state capitol. While these professions are not really related, they do create some remarkable stories. Some I can share here and others that I can't, but there will some that I hope you will enjoy.

I'm hoping to add to the Low Down two or three times per week. Some weeks there'll be more to write and others I may be out to lunch mentally. But I'll get something up on a regular basis.

I welcome your thoughts, comments, questions, and suggestions. Let me what you think and enjoy Lindsey's Low down.