After 50 years, time to stop and play

When I accepted an early retirement from the Flint Journal in December 2007 I knew in my heart I was not done working. My internal clock still yearned to work and produce. So I started a little business and contracted out some writing and communication services, which resulted in one main client, a local school district.

When I did my taxes last year, I realized I was working 25 minutes of every hour to pay Uncle Sam and decided that the fire to work had gone out. If you are curious about the tax math: 25 percent federal income taxes, 15 percent (the employee's 7.5 percent Social Security contribution and the employer's 7.5 percent Social Security contribution) and Michigan's 4.1 percent income tax.

In other words, it no longer made sense to continue getting up early, put on a tie and make my way to work. I loved the school work, but it was no longer worth it.

Also, a person wiser than me once said that "you'll know when it's time to retire." At some point this winter, while Joan and I were away on vacation, a clock went off in my head telling me it was time to stop. Not wanting to quit in the middle of a school year I decided that when the school year ended, so would my employment.

That was yesterday. June 30. For the first time in 50 years there is no paid work now or in the future. It feels great this morning.

As mentioned previously, my life has been blessed. Not once have I had to apply for unemployment. In the 1960s I was laid off from a sandblasting job in San Carlos, California on a Friday (my paycheck bounced by the way) and hit the bricks on Monday and found a similar unadvertised job with a competitor about three miles away. My pay at the time was $2.35 an hour. The work was hard.

In August of 1970, the Foster City Public Safety Department hired me and between then and July 1977 I worked for two Bay Area police departments. Most of that work was in communications and dispatching, but I was also a sworn officer and rode shifts alone and with other officers at the Atherton Police Department. It was great fun. During that time I also served as a paid on call firefighter at Foster City.

But I yearned to write and in the mid-1970s I went back to college to study journalism and eventually gave up the police work and moved to Michigan to attend Michigan State University to study journalism. I picked up a job as a bouncer at the Coral Gables bar on Grand River Avenue to make a little extra money. At that time we were living on the GI bill and money we had taken from my police retirement account.

Somehow I ended up as editor-in-chief of The State News, which at that time was the nation's largest daily college newspaper, leading a staff of 56 editorial employees. That experience left me with many lifelong friends and the knowledge that this was what I was born to do.

In the late 1970s, after leaving MSU, I was editor of a local weekly newspaper and a change in ownership forced me to quit when the new publisher demanded editorial changes that ethically I was not willing to make. For six weeks I hauled 80-pound bags of soft water salt to Lansing apartment complexes to make 35 cents a bag for each one I dumped. That kept me going through Christmas 1979 and then I took a job in January 1980 doing internal communications for a large Styrofoam cup manufacturer in Mason, Michigan.

A good friend who was working as a reporter at the Oakland Press in Pontiac let me know of a police reporter job opening in December 1983 and I started there the first week of January 1984.

My 23-year daily newspaper career was more fun than could be possibly described. Every day was a gift, most stories were a wonderful adventure and except for the occasional incompetent editor, it was a great ride. The bad editors are a source of constant amusement, even now.

There were days, like the one where my assignment was to fly on a World War II B-24, Liberator bomber, that I had to pinch myself to see if I was dreaming. I was paid overtime to attend the clinching World Series game at Tiger Stadium in 1984. Life was good.

So I thank God for leading me to such a rewarding career.

My very first job I landed at 12. I did yard work at $1 an hour for my church and pastor in La Crescenta. Each Saturday, I rode my bike two miles to the church and rectory (which were next door to each other) and trimmed bushes, raked pine needles and mowed lawns.

Later when $8 a week was not enough to pay for my school lunches and Los Angeles Dodger baseball games (my brother and I had to buy our own school lunches if we didn't want bologna sandwiches every day and also pay for our own amusement) I located another yard work job at "The Brass Tree," a woman's clothing store on Foothill Boulevard within walk/bicycle riding distance of the church.

Between the yard work jobs, some babysitting work and other odd jobs I was making about $100 a month, which was plenty in the 1950s-60s. I could take my girlfriend out for a night on the town (dinner an a movie) for about $15. When I was old enough to drive I was expected to pay for my gas and insurance when I used the family car.

When I left Los Angeles after high school and moved in with my father and stepmother, I worked as a 'fly boy' for Pacific Lithograph, a printer in San Francisco. I loved commuting to work in the city and all that went with that.

When my first try at college failed I joined the Navy and spent some time growing up in the service. That included two tours of duty in Vietnam.

I have worked as a gas jockey, back in the days gas stations had "service." I was pretty much willing to do anything to make money, as long as it was legal. During my years on the police department I often worked special details and also worked an outside third job as a temp using my typing skills as a teletype operator at a Silicone Valley company to make extra money.

My police department pay when I started was about $500 a month and we were paid monthly. Without the extra work we would always fall short by the end of the month. Sometimes even with the extra work we still fell short of money.

I've probably had 40 different jobs in my life, each came with its own lessons and rewards. Each taught me something I could use for my next job. To me there is no dishonor in honest work. I respect folks who work hard and get their hands dirty.

My children and stepchildren have never been afraid to work either. I'm proud of them for that.

Retirement, at least to me, doesn't mean being idle. I have plenty of volunteer jobs that I am already involved in and, there's a big travel trailer in my driveway that wants to take me to the far reaches of America.

And I'll have the blog to keep me writing.

Connor Doran, a young man with a talent

A former colleague and his wife, Tim and Amy Doran, have raised a remarkable young man that some of us knew as an infant. Following is a YouTube.com that a friend posted on Facebook.



A great post for a Sunday.

Life after Booth: Bay City Times environmental reporter leaves, starts website

Jeff "Mr. Great Lakes" Kart, the former environmental reporter for the Bay City Times has started his own website.

As readers here know, I'm not what you'd call an environmentalist. I believe in recycling, conservation and protecting the environment. While I don't subscribe to popular man made global warming theories, I'm always willing to listen and consider real evidence.

So stop over and see a former Booth colleague who is now out on his own. We wish you good luck and good fortune Jeff.

He has some great suggestions on how to find out if your beach destination is safe. We do disagree on Larry King, who I believe may be the worst interviewer in the history of television.

When Generals attack

Apparently General Stanley A. McChrystal, President Obama's main man in Afghanistan went off the reservation in a big way in, of all places, Rolling Stone magazine. By now, you've heard all the soundbites and controversy, or can easily find it, but as much as I disagree with much of what President Obama has done and continues to do, he doesn't have much wiggle room here.

The only choice President Obama has is to fire the general. Anything else would be weak and would hurt not just his Presidency but future ones. Generals, especially ones in charge of a war, must serve only one master, the President.

If General McChrystal was unhappy with the progress of the war or the support, or lack of support he was getting, he had the option to resign and then make those complaints as a civilian. To do it while still under the authority of the President was simply wrong.

So like another famous General (MacArthur in Korea), McChrystal is on his way to explain himself to his boss. This can't go well. In fact, if the President's advisers had any savvy they've fire him now before he has a chance to resign.

McChrystal had to know the impact these comments would have, especially since he was talking to Rolling Stone (good for them, by the way in achieving a huge scoop).

The problem for Obama, of course, is once McChrystal is a civilian he will be free to unload on the President, his staff, the war strategy and anything else without any brakes on his opinions.

Like President Truman, President Obama has no choice but to try and weather the storm of firing a general. The alternative is too destructive to the good order of the service.

I feel badly for the morale of the troops serving in an already difficult conflict with all this fighting on Mt. Olympus.

A smile at the expense of Congress

*The Haircut**

**One day a florist went to a barber for a haircut.**

**After the cut, he asked about his bill, and the barber replied, 'I cannot
accept money from you , I'm doing community service this week.' The florist
was pleased and left the shop.**

**When the barber went to open his shop the next morning, there was a 'thank
you' card and a dozen roses waiting for him at his door.**

**Later, a cop comes in for a haircut, and when he tries to pay his bill,
the barber again replied, 'I cannot accept money from you , I'm doing
community service this week.' The cop was happy and left the shop.**

**The next morning when the barber went to open up, there was a 'thank you'
card and a dozen donuts waiting for him at his door.**

**Then a Congressman came in for a haircut, and when he went to pay his
bill, the barber again replied, 'I cannot accept money from you. I'm doing
community service this week.' The Congressman was very happy and left the
shop.**

**The next morning, when the barber went to open up, there were a dozen
Congressmen lined up waiting for a free haircut.**

**And that, my friends, illustrates the fundamental difference between the
citizens of our country and the politicians who run it.**


**BOTH POLITICIANS AND DIAPERS NEED TO BE CHANGED OFTEN AND FOR THE SAME REASON!** *

Well, that was fun

No one will ever feel sympathy for BP, certainly not me, but you had to love yesterday's hearings which resembled a Roman Coliseum event with the head of BP being thrown to the lions.

This was not about getting answers, it was about getting votes. From the idiot Republican apologizing, to the angry posturing of everyone else it was pure theater. These public floggings are great television and who can turn away from watching a bad accident on the freeway, but what did we learn after all the questions yesterday.

Bupkis. Zero, zip, nada, diddly squat.

When you threaten a company and their head with criminal sanctions, what do you expect? The guy is never going to come clean (pun intended) with a federal criminal investigation hanging over his head. Better to do the investigation and charge them and find out the answers in court. But there's no sound bites and votes if you do that.

So no thinking person, which leaves out Congress, would expect that someone would show up and actually tell the truth or give a frank assessment of what they know. But the cameras were on and the lions were loose. Like I said, it was fun, just not very enlightening.

Gulf Oil Disaster, revisited

Six weeks ago I wrote a post that drew some criticism from supporters of President Obama because I criticized the federal government for a slow response (again) to a disaster in the Gulf.

Bush and his administration were slow to react to the disaster in Katrina and again, in my humble opinion, the Obama administration and red tape have snarled efforts to contain and clean up the spill in the Gulf.

I agree with those who say you can't blame President Obama for the spill, anymore than you could blame W for a hurricane. But the response to both is what is in question.

Apparently we have declined foreign help to clean up the mess and it took six weeks for the Army Corps of Engineers (think levees) to approve a small part of the Louisiana governor's plan to dredge a protective barrier to protect the coast.

Last night the President gave a speech that left me scratching my head. The plan to clean up the gulf is apparently rooted in the effort to pass an energy bill. What?

Tough talk is one thing, constructive action and leadership is another. Please Mr. President, get on the phone and tell the Army Corps of Engineers and the Coast Guard to get the lead out.

For those who argued with me that the President had no role in this disaster (what can he do?, they said) let me remind you that the President himself said he was in charge. If he is in charge, then we have the right to criticize.

Maureen Dowd, no conservative apologist has turned suddenly very critical. This from Salon .com.

Going it alone for news: Not as easy as it seems

Reflections of a Newsosaur has some reflections on journalists trying to go it alone. You may have to scroll up from the comments to read the article. Couldn't get a direct link to the article.

Another "not-so-green" house for Al Gore

Now that Al and Tipper are breaking up (and I do feel badly about that) you'd think he'd use that as an opportunity to green up his living quarters. According to USA Today, not so much. Those profits from "Inconvenient Truth" are helping finance a pretty "Convenient Lifestyle."

Some 'new' media ideas

My friend and former colleague Mary Ann, who knows as much about online news stuff as anyone I know, is participating in a weekend conference in Detroit called "Journalism That Matters." Not my cup of tea, but at least some folks are trying to figure out a new journalism model, which puts them far, far ahead of the 'old' thinkers in the business. Mary Ann has posted her thoughts and a link to pictures of the event at her blog, Inside Out.

A word about comments

OK, time to revisit the comment rules. After bragging a couple days ago that I had not rejected a comment for over a year I was forced to do just that today. Feel free to call me an "idiot" or any name you like, but I will not post any comment that refers to a third party in a derogatory way.

So to the anonymous poster who called a former colleague an "idiot," look in a mirror, I think you'll find an idiot there. So my unbroken string of no rejections is now over, but I'll take a good debate here anytime, but keep it civil.

FDR's prayer on the invasion of D-Day

President Franklin D. Roosevelt's prayer on the night of the D-Day Invasion. (Guess FDR didn't get the memo on separation of church and state - thank goodness).

“My Fellow Americans:

“Last night, when I spoke with you about the fall of Rome, I knew at that moment that troops of the United States and our Allies were crossing the Channel in another and greater operation. It has come to pass with success thus far.

“And so, in this poignant hour, I ask you to join with me in prayer:

“Almighty God: Our sons, pride of our nation, this day have set upon a mighty endeavor, a struggle to preserve our Republic, our religion, and our civilization, and to set free a suffering humanity.

“Lead them straight and true; give strength to their arms, stoutness to their hearts, steadfastness in their faith.

“They will need Thy blessings. Their road will be long and hard. For the enemy is strong. He may hurl back our forces. Success may not come with rushing speed, but we shall return again and again; and we know that by Thy grace, and by the righteousness of our cause, our sons will triumph.
“They will be sore tried, by night and by day, without rest -- until the victory is won. The darkness will be rent by noise and flame. Men's souls will be shaken with the violences of war.

“For these men are lately drawn from the ways of peace. They fight not for the lust of conquest. They fight to end conquest. They fight to liberate. They fight to let justice arise, and tolerance and goodwill among all Thy people. They yearn but for the end of battle, for their return to the haven of home.&

“Some will never return. Embrace these, Father, and receive them, Thy heroic servants, into Thy kingdom.

“And for us at home -- fathers, mothers, children, wives, sisters, and brothers of brave men overseas, whose thoughts and prayers are ever with them -- help us, Almighty God, to rededicate ourselves in renewed faith in Thee in this hour of great sacrifice.

“Many people have urged that I call the nation into a single day of special prayer. But because the road is long and the desire is great, I ask that our people devote themselves in a continuance of prayer. As we rise to each new day, and again when each day is spent, let words of prayer be on our lips, invoking Thy help to our efforts.

“Give us strength, too -- strength in our daily tasks, to redouble the contributions we make in the physical and the material support of our armed forces.

“And let our hearts be stout, to wait out the long travail, to bear sorrows that may come, to impart our courage unto our sons wheresoever they may be.

“And, O Lord, give us faith. Give us faith in Thee; faith in our sons; faith in each other; faith in our united crusade. Let not the keenness of our spirit ever be dulled. Let not the impacts of temporary events, of temporal matters of but fleeting moment -- let not these deter us in our unconquerable purpose.

“With Thy blessing, we shall prevail over the unholy forces of our enemy. Help us to conquer the apostles of greed and racial arrogances. Lead us to the saving of our country, and with our sister nations into a world unity that will spell a sure peace -- a peace invulnerable to the schemings of unworthy men. And a peace that will let all of men live in freedom, reaping the just rewards of their honest toil.

“Thy will be done, Almighty God.

“Amen.”

A small man, but a big life

This made me think about all the ridiculous complaining I do. It also reminded me of a story I once found at a school board meeting in North Branch about Jessica Parks, a young woman born with no arms who did more with her life than 90 percent of the people I knew. The night I was there she was honored for her school spirit. Because I was swamped with work I handed off her story to a feature writer - Carol - who did a magnificent piece on the girl after spending many hours with her and her mother. Eventually it ended up as a segment on ABC's 20/20 as a result of Carol's initial story. I could not find the video, but there is plenty of video of Jessica on YouTube.com. Because of the ridiculous MLive.com archiving system I couldn't find the 2002 feature, but this link will take you to some video.

A reporter and a goat, another great Saturday story

Sometime back I wrote about former reporter Ken Palmer (I don't think he'll mind me mentioning his full name here) and his famous Saturday shift with assignments to a goat milking exhibition, followed closely by a clogging exhibition.

Today, I found this goat story that some reporter had to file, Ken would be happy to know that others have not been spared.

Some thoughts for Memorial Day

It is the
VETERAN,
not the preacher,
who has given us freedom of religion.

It is
the VETERAN,
not the reporter,
who has given us freedom of the press.

It is
the VETERAN,
not the poet,
who has given us freedom of speech.

It is
the VETERAN,
not the campus organizer,
who has given us freedom to assemble.

It is
the VETERAN,
not the lawyer,
who has given us the right to a fair trial.

It is
the VETERAN,
not the politician,
Who has given us the right to vote.

It is the
VETERAN who
salutes the Flag,

It is
the
VETERAN
who serves
under the Flag,

ETERNAL REST GRANT THEM O LORD,
AND LET PERPETUAL LIGHT SHINE UPON THEM.

Please fly your flag today in honor of those who gave the ultimate sacrifice.

I'm living in the Land of Tomorrow

When I was about 9 years old my parents took me to Disneyland in Anaheim on the second or third weekend that it was open. It was a drive of a little more than an hour from my home and my head nearly exploded when we arrived in the expansive parking lot and I could see the beautiful park approaching. (Photo is a view of Disneyland from the air on opening day)

Everything about the park seem unreal, but very exciting. At the time I thought I was the luckiest kid in the world to actually be at this magical place.

One of the things I remember was the "Land of Tomorrow" exhibit, which I believe was sponsored by General Electric. Moving displays showed the dreams and future inventions that GE believed were on the near and far horizon.

The one I was especially intrigued with was the display that showed two people talking on the phone and yet being able to see each other on television screens at the same time. That seemed so fanciful as to be impossible at the time.

At that time a long distance phone call was a big deal. They cost a lot and we had an egg timer by the phone so that no one would talk too long and run up a big bill. We planned and anticipated making a long distance phone call to the point that everyone would gather near the phone so we could pass the phone quickly from person to person to save time. It rarely happened more than a couple times a month. Handwritten letters were the communications staple of that day.

Last night, I downloaded Skype (I've had the computer for two years and didn't realize I could do this) and within minutes was talking to our daughter in Boston looking at her wonderful face on my computer screen as she watched me pick my nose on her end. I even got to meet her new cat, although I mostly saw its butt.

My son Tim apparently has the same connection and I tried to reach him unsuccessfully.

It's kind of cool to have lived long enough to be in "The Land of Tomorrow."

"To all who come to this happy place: -Welcome- Disneyland is your land. Here age relives fond memories of the past ... and here youth may savor the challenge and promise of the future. Disneyland is dedicated to the ideals, the dreams, and the hard facts that have created America ... with the hope that it will be a source of joy and inspiration to all the world."
—Walter E. Disney, July 17, 1955 4:43pm

A James Carville rant on the oil spill

There is nothing funnier, well maybe a few things, than a James Carville rant.

Some good newspaper news

The editor of the Buffalo News has some good news for newspaper fans in her column.

A song I like: Freeborn America

This is a pretty good song by Jimmy Joe Lee, a friend of a friend in California.



Just something I liked.

Reporter's license: A Michigan State Senator's idea

I'm sure it's frustrating to deal with the new media. So many new faces, so much on-the-job training, but one Republican state senator has taken it one step too far. The proposal by State Sen. Bruce Patterson (R-Canton) is the latest in a long line of politicians who wanted to harness the media.

The idea of a media license sounds like something out of a Soviet Union playbook, but here it is. This probably won't go far, or at least I hope not, but government should stay out of regulating the media. Period.

It makes me nervous that elected officials even feel comfortable talking about it.