It's time for me to promote Relay for Life again.
Relay is an annual event that has two goals--raise money for the American Cancer Society and honor cancer survivors. I was involved with Relay for Life of Sangamon County for several years because of the family members I've lost to cancer, including my mother.
Then, in November 2008, I heard those words: It's cancer.
In my case, though, the followup was, "But it's the good kind of cancer!" What the doctor quickly explained was that my form of testicular cancer was curable. And he was right--I'm currently in complete remission and feeling fine.
Others aren't so lucky, including a college classmate who passed away near the end of 2011. It was the reminder I didn't need that the fight against cancer unfortunately hasn't ended yet.
If you would like to join the fight, just click on the Relay icon in the upper right corner. That will take you to my online donation page, where you can give to your heart's content.
Thank you for reading, and thanks for any donation you might give. Every dollar makes a difference.
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Leave Paula Alone?
Paula Deen has her detractors, but she has at least one fan.
A Springfield, Illinois woman wants us all to leave Paula alone. Well, good luck with that.
In case you've never heard of her, Paula Deen is a Southern cook who has written some cookbooks and had her own show--several shows, actually--on the Food Network. Nearly all of her recipes involve butter, butter, and more butter. Some of them involve meat or flour and sugar.
Fat, carbs and calories are the running themes in her recipes.
Someone pushing that type of cuisine would naturally stir up some detractors, but Paula Deen has now given the naysayers even more reason to criticize her. She recently announced that she's a Type 2 diabetic and has been for, oh, three years.
She also announced that Novo Nordisk has hired her to endorse a new diabetes management drug. I'm sure it's all a coincidence.
Now, I've never made any secret of the fact that I'm also a Type 2 diabetic (see The Diabetic and the Dilly Bar). But I control my blood sugar with diet and exercise. Nobody has called to ask for an endorsement, although I walk and run in New Balance shoes and drink GeniSoy soy protein shakes (soy protein helps prevent kidney problems) and use Nautilus exercise machines. That's okay, because I really don't want to be the guy who pushes people to exercise or eat a certain way.
That's Paula's job. She's always very entertaining, even when she's answering those detractors I mentioned earlier. When she's been criticized in the past for the dishes she pushes on her show, she has used the following dodge: "I'm your cook. I'm not your doctor."
Soon, however, she will be appearing in TV commercials promoting a diabetes drug. I hope the people who see those commercials will remember that Paula is a cook instead of a doctor. I hope they'll realize there are other ways to manage diabetes than to get the Paula Deen drug.
Leave Paula alone? Probably not, but I will continue leaving her recipes alone.
A Springfield, Illinois woman wants us all to leave Paula alone. Well, good luck with that.
In case you've never heard of her, Paula Deen is a Southern cook who has written some cookbooks and had her own show--several shows, actually--on the Food Network. Nearly all of her recipes involve butter, butter, and more butter. Some of them involve meat or flour and sugar.
Fat, carbs and calories are the running themes in her recipes.
Someone pushing that type of cuisine would naturally stir up some detractors, but Paula Deen has now given the naysayers even more reason to criticize her. She recently announced that she's a Type 2 diabetic and has been for, oh, three years.
She also announced that Novo Nordisk has hired her to endorse a new diabetes management drug. I'm sure it's all a coincidence.
Now, I've never made any secret of the fact that I'm also a Type 2 diabetic (see The Diabetic and the Dilly Bar). But I control my blood sugar with diet and exercise. Nobody has called to ask for an endorsement, although I walk and run in New Balance shoes and drink GeniSoy soy protein shakes (soy protein helps prevent kidney problems) and use Nautilus exercise machines. That's okay, because I really don't want to be the guy who pushes people to exercise or eat a certain way.
That's Paula's job. She's always very entertaining, even when she's answering those detractors I mentioned earlier. When she's been criticized in the past for the dishes she pushes on her show, she has used the following dodge: "I'm your cook. I'm not your doctor."
Soon, however, she will be appearing in TV commercials promoting a diabetes drug. I hope the people who see those commercials will remember that Paula is a cook instead of a doctor. I hope they'll realize there are other ways to manage diabetes than to get the Paula Deen drug.
Leave Paula alone? Probably not, but I will continue leaving her recipes alone.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Slow Death of a Newspaper
My hometown newspaper is dying a slow death, and it’s pretty painful to watch.
The State Journal-Register will be losing 10 copy editors soon. The paper’s corporate owner, GateHouse Media, plans to consolidate copy editing for some papers at an office in Downers Grove, a suburb of Chicago.
I’m looking forward to copy editors in Downers Grove trying to grasp that the arts center in Springfield, Illinois is spelled Hoogland or trying to understand a local address like 801 North Grand Avenue West.
The copy editing idiocy was announced about the same time that rumors circulated of new layoffs on the editorial side of the paper. The upshot is that fewer people will be writing local news, and the local news stories will be edited a couple hundred miles away.
Unbelievable.
I realize that the situation facing The State Journal-Register is the same one facing papers across the country. But that realization doesn’t make it easier to watch this paper slowly die.
The newspaper industry is scrambling to figure out how to continue making a profit as its former audience moves away from buying physical newspapers every day. One day somebody is going to figure out how to turn a profit by gathering and distributing news in the online age.
Until that day breaks, people in cities all over America will experience what I’m seeing now, the slow and painful death of their local daily newspaper.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Insanely Great
Tonight cancer has taken someone who has already been hailed many times as a genius and a visionary. Tonight Steve Jobs, co-founder of Apple Computer, lost the battle with pancreatic cancer.
Whatever opinion you hold about Jobs, and I've held nearly every possible opinion over the years, his impact on American life can't be questioned. This is the man who assembled a secret development team within his own company to design and build the "insanely great" Macintosh, the computer that changed everything (according to the subtitle of Steven Levy's book).
This is the man who recruited John Sculley away from Pepsi to be the CEO of Apple by asking, "Do you really want to sell sugar water for the rest of your life?" Of course Sculley was the man who forced Jobs out of his own company.
But Steve Jobs is also the man who founded Pixar Studios, regained control of Apple, and pushed development of the iPod, iPhone and iPad. i-i-i-i-i-i ... I've written before about the Cult of Apple and criticized it. One thing is certain, though: Few people have had the same impact on American life over the last 50 as Steve Jobs has.
He was insanely great. Cancer once again diminishes us all.
Whatever opinion you hold about Jobs, and I've held nearly every possible opinion over the years, his impact on American life can't be questioned. This is the man who assembled a secret development team within his own company to design and build the "insanely great" Macintosh, the computer that changed everything (according to the subtitle of Steven Levy's book).
This is the man who recruited John Sculley away from Pepsi to be the CEO of Apple by asking, "Do you really want to sell sugar water for the rest of your life?" Of course Sculley was the man who forced Jobs out of his own company.
But Steve Jobs is also the man who founded Pixar Studios, regained control of Apple, and pushed development of the iPod, iPhone and iPad. i-i-i-i-i-i ... I've written before about the Cult of Apple and criticized it. One thing is certain, though: Few people have had the same impact on American life over the last 50 as Steve Jobs has.
He was insanely great. Cancer once again diminishes us all.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
The Diabetic and the Dilly Bar
Recently a coworker announced that she had purchased a few boxes of DQ Dilly Bars and placed them in the cafeteria freezer for anyone to partake. Just like I did when a DQ opened in my neighborhood when I was 12, I ran for the Dilly Bar.
I took it back to my cubicle, unwrapped the treat, and was just starting to nom nom nom when a different coworker shrieked.
“Hey! Aren’t you diabetic?”
I chuckled. “Yeah,” I told her, “eating this thing is liable to send me straight into a coma.”
But she was just expressing concern for my health. So I assured her that I have pretty tight control over my blood sugar, and the occasional treat was not going to bump up my blood glucose.
Because she works the next cubicle over, she can see the lunches I eat--lots of fresh spinach, lean meats, a banana every day. She can also see me head for the company health club about the same time each day.
This has been my life since May 2001, when my doctor diagnosed me with diabetes. At the time he told me I was diabetic, he started me on Amaryl, an oral blood glucose control drug. He also referred me to a nutritionist whose goal from the beginning was to get me off that drug.
She succeeded. By September 2001 I was controlling my diabetes with diet and exercise.
That simple phrase, “diet and exercise,” means walking, running, lifting weights, swimming or using an elliptical machine four to six times a week while watching my food intake very closely. I keep an eye on my calories and especially my carbohydrates, often by scrutinizing the nutrition labels on food.
Did you know a Dilly Bar has 220 calories and 25 grams of carbohydrate? I do. That’s why I wasn’t worried about slipping into a coma. I can handle 25 grams of carbs about any time.
I took it back to my cubicle, unwrapped the treat, and was just starting to nom nom nom when a different coworker shrieked.
“Hey! Aren’t you diabetic?”
I chuckled. “Yeah,” I told her, “eating this thing is liable to send me straight into a coma.”
But she was just expressing concern for my health. So I assured her that I have pretty tight control over my blood sugar, and the occasional treat was not going to bump up my blood glucose.
Because she works the next cubicle over, she can see the lunches I eat--lots of fresh spinach, lean meats, a banana every day. She can also see me head for the company health club about the same time each day.
This has been my life since May 2001, when my doctor diagnosed me with diabetes. At the time he told me I was diabetic, he started me on Amaryl, an oral blood glucose control drug. He also referred me to a nutritionist whose goal from the beginning was to get me off that drug.
She succeeded. By September 2001 I was controlling my diabetes with diet and exercise.
That simple phrase, “diet and exercise,” means walking, running, lifting weights, swimming or using an elliptical machine four to six times a week while watching my food intake very closely. I keep an eye on my calories and especially my carbohydrates, often by scrutinizing the nutrition labels on food.
Did you know a Dilly Bar has 220 calories and 25 grams of carbohydrate? I do. That’s why I wasn’t worried about slipping into a coma. I can handle 25 grams of carbs about any time.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Jon Stewart 2, Newsies 0
A lot of the media is making quite a stink over Jon Stewart’s recent appearance on FoxNews Sunday, where he was interviewed by Chris Wallace. The focus of the media’s reaction is the way that Stewart schooled Wallace.
What nobody in any media has mentioned is that this was the second time that Stewart, the host of Comedy Central’s The Daily Show, went toe-to-toe with a cable news face and won.
The previous time was October 2004, when Stewart appeared on the now-defunct CNN program Crossfire and traded shots with Paul Begala and Tucker Carlson. True to form, Carlson referred to an interview Stewart had done with Democratic presidential candidate John Kerry and accused Stewart of being Kerry’s “butt boy.”
It’s true. The CNN transcript is right here.
But the essence of the Stewart victory over the CNN hosts in 2004 and Wallace this past weekend was in the following comment:
STEWART: If you want to compare your show to a comedy show, you're more than welcome to.
CNN in 2004 was still calling itself “the most trusted name in news.” FoxNews in 2011 continues to maintain the pretense that it is a legitimate news organization. In both cases, smug hosts obviously thought they would be scrubbing the floor with Stewart’s head.
In both cases, the so-called journalists arrived at a gun fight armed with switchblades.
To both news channels, I pose the following question: Why do you invite a comedian to a serious discussion of the news media. Do you watch The Daily Show and mistake it for real news? Do you fail to understand that it’s a parody of what you do?
Or let me use the same short words that Stewart used in 2004: Why do you want to compare yourself to a comedy show? You lose before you even begin.
What nobody in any media has mentioned is that this was the second time that Stewart, the host of Comedy Central’s The Daily Show, went toe-to-toe with a cable news face and won.
The previous time was October 2004, when Stewart appeared on the now-defunct CNN program Crossfire and traded shots with Paul Begala and Tucker Carlson. True to form, Carlson referred to an interview Stewart had done with Democratic presidential candidate John Kerry and accused Stewart of being Kerry’s “butt boy.”
It’s true. The CNN transcript is right here.
But the essence of the Stewart victory over the CNN hosts in 2004 and Wallace this past weekend was in the following comment:
STEWART: If you want to compare your show to a comedy show, you're more than welcome to.
CNN in 2004 was still calling itself “the most trusted name in news.” FoxNews in 2011 continues to maintain the pretense that it is a legitimate news organization. In both cases, smug hosts obviously thought they would be scrubbing the floor with Stewart’s head.
In both cases, the so-called journalists arrived at a gun fight armed with switchblades.
To both news channels, I pose the following question: Why do you invite a comedian to a serious discussion of the news media. Do you watch The Daily Show and mistake it for real news? Do you fail to understand that it’s a parody of what you do?
Or let me use the same short words that Stewart used in 2004: Why do you want to compare yourself to a comedy show? You lose before you even begin.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Clarence Clemons and My Sense of Loss
I’m 54 years old, which means I’ve lived long enough to have lost a lot of people who were close to me.
Both of my parents are gone, as are aunts, uncles, cousins, in-laws, and close friends. Each time death took someone from me, I wondered how life could go on without that person in my life. Often I had lost a person who was a physical presence in my life each week, if not each day.
Because I had that close relationship with each person, it’s completely understandable that I would feel a sense of deep loss when one would die.
But why do I feel almost the same sense of loss when someone dies who I never even met?
Clarence Clemons died last night at the age of 69, just one week after suffering a stroke. I never met him. In fact, I was in the same building as Clemons just one time in my life; that’s the closest I came to being physically connected to this man.
But I feel a sense of loss. And I don’t understand why.
The only connection I have with the man is the saxophone accompaniment he played as a member of Bruce Springsteen’s E Street Band. I’ve got most of the Springsteen records, so I can revisit that connection any time I want. I can listen to Clemons’ music any time I want.
But my enjoyment of listening to the music is tempered by the knowledge that there won’t be any new music from Clarence Clemons. It’s tempered by the realization that a certain period of my life, a certain period in the things I enjoy, has ended. In fact, it’s a realization that should really never come as a surprise: I’m getting older, and I don’t like that fact.
Yes, I feel a sense of loss at the death of a musician whose work I enjoyed. But I think my real sense is that I’ve lost something of myself.
Both of my parents are gone, as are aunts, uncles, cousins, in-laws, and close friends. Each time death took someone from me, I wondered how life could go on without that person in my life. Often I had lost a person who was a physical presence in my life each week, if not each day.
Because I had that close relationship with each person, it’s completely understandable that I would feel a sense of deep loss when one would die.
But why do I feel almost the same sense of loss when someone dies who I never even met?
Clarence Clemons died last night at the age of 69, just one week after suffering a stroke. I never met him. In fact, I was in the same building as Clemons just one time in my life; that’s the closest I came to being physically connected to this man.
But I feel a sense of loss. And I don’t understand why.
The only connection I have with the man is the saxophone accompaniment he played as a member of Bruce Springsteen’s E Street Band. I’ve got most of the Springsteen records, so I can revisit that connection any time I want. I can listen to Clemons’ music any time I want.
But my enjoyment of listening to the music is tempered by the knowledge that there won’t be any new music from Clarence Clemons. It’s tempered by the realization that a certain period of my life, a certain period in the things I enjoy, has ended. In fact, it’s a realization that should really never come as a surprise: I’m getting older, and I don’t like that fact.
Yes, I feel a sense of loss at the death of a musician whose work I enjoyed. But I think my real sense is that I’ve lost something of myself.
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