Week 5 - Fair

If there was ever one week that summed up the craziness in my life on a day-to-day basis, it's fair week. Now that it's finally over and we've started picking up the pieces around the house, I thought that I would elaborate a little about the one thing I never miss every year. Sure, it's smaller than it was when I was a kid, but it's the same people and the traditions of the fair that bring me back.

My first time to the fair that I can remember was when we were driving back from vacation out in the Rockies. Mom and Dad stopped into town in the area where we were born and we roamed the fair for a while. I distinctly remember leaving with a company advertisement hat shaped like an Indian headband with a red spraypainted feather tucked in the top. The ink peeled off on my fingers and made a huge mess in the car on the drive back to Michigan, when those things were just starting to drive me absolutely crazy.

A couple years later when we had just moved back, Grandpa took my brother out roaming and they come home with a trailer and a steer in the back. We always joke that he forced the family back into 4-H, and whether this was 100% accurate or not, I am forever grateful. It was this organization that shaped me into my career path through my experiences and learning, as well as by the people I met along the way. Big cattle weren't for me, although I enjoyed feeding my brother's steer, and I settled on a Jersey Wooly rabbit (Fluffy) and a Castor Mini Rex (Brownie). The following year I got into rabbit breeding with Woodina (another Mini Rex) and so it began. We bred rabbits throughout my years in 4-H and my family still has rabbits today. They intrigued me from a genetics standpoint and I strived to breed the best I could in order to compete with everyone else at the fair. There was a certain pride I attached to winning with something I had bred and raised at home.

The inevitable happened though, that as I grew I wanted to finally tackle the challenge of an animal 10 times my own size. Happy beat me around, as did all of the animals after him, and I went through the stage of being attached to my animals, indifferent about their futures, and back to attachment, year after year. Spending so much time with some of those animals for a full year prior to the fair, up to 7 hours a day, they became your best friends, but ultimately their purpose was to sell for food and to make money to purchase the new animal. I still feel bittersweet on Wednesday evening at the fair as I remember all of the cattle I worked so long with and said farewell to, or the ones who disappeared while I was gone and I never got to say goodbye.

Me with my first steer, Happy.

Lots of other great things happened at the fair too; it's chock full of memories. There was one year where I held the record for most flies killed in the barn (over 500, counted individually). Another year we had the hurricane force winds rip through and I have video of us pitching Cheez-its in the air for people to catch downwind about 20 feet. There were the stormy Wednesday nights with tornado warnings, and the drunks on Thursday tripping back from the horse race. I gambled for the first time at those very same horse races and gunned a golf cart through the grounds once they were abandoned. Relationships were started in the parking lots after a long day of fun and talking, and relationships were ended down at the racetrack staring into the vacant silence.

Picture of us from the old days.

As I get older and further detached from the livestock aspects of showing, it becomes more enjoyable to sit and watch the shows and appreciate all of the hard work that kids put into the show. This year was especially wonderful, as my younger brother had the fair of a lifetime. He works hard and it finally paid off with a Grand Champion, multiple showmanship awards, and a huge selling price which complements his work ethic and the pride other people have in his dedication to learning and teaching those around him. I am so very proud of him for all of his hard work and I hope that these memories stick with him for a lifetime.

Horse races this year were probably more exciting than some I've seen. Many of the races were closer and the odds narrower than before. We tried out some new bets and I continue to work on talking the track talk, and understanding what all of the figures in the programs really mean. Nearing the end of the week, my wife was getting sick from all of the long nights she put in helping with the sales, and so we spent less time watching the motor sports at the back track than usual. She was even sick enough to skip half of the football game on campus, walking out after halftime, and I don't know if I've ever seen her bad enough to skip football.

We did make it to our most redneck event of the fair - the schoolbus races. For those of you who have never seen a schoolbus race, the concept is full-length buses racing a set number of laps around 2 stacks of tractor tires in a figure 8 pattern. It seems pretty lame until the buses get spread apart (about 2 laps in), and then it becomes a game of schoolbus chicken as drivers try to intimidate the opposite direction into yielding at the pattern crossover. Needless to say, there were some great collisions and enough fuel smoke to make even the most careless Prius-driver cry, besides clouding our entire view of the track.

Schoolbus racing at the county fair.

Apple-picking is my new favorite fall activity.

 The last thing we did this past weekend was go apple picking out on the east side of town. The orchard was picked pretty clean at this point, but they had saved back enough rows that we could get in still yet this past weekend. I have to admit that while I might have been apple picking before in my youth, I don't remember ever having done it before, and I was like a kid in a candy shop. I ate myself pretty sick on apples, although I didn't realize that until the day after, but I couldn't help it with so many beautiful ones hanging and begging to be picked and sampled. All told, we picked 70 lbs. of apples for both of our parents and for some applesauce (which turned out amazing!) and a booze project of mine. Out there in the crisp evening air with the apples and the clear sky, it finally felt like fall. The weather was absolutely beautiful and I want to be outside every day of this season.

Beautiful sunset on the way home. Camera couldn't get all the vibrant colors.

Special Topic - Community Service

Driving home tonight after midnight (with Blair Garner), I was doing alot of reflective thinking. It's the end of another county fair and this is the second year of fairs where we've started putting money back into the kids. Investing in the future of youth, just as our predecessors did and do today, my wife and I strive our hardest to give back to the community. We were both blessed by some great leaders who paid forward for our development and I'd like to think we turned out pretty well. That said, my wife embodies service and dedication to others above self and I just wanted to take a few minutes to tell you all how wonderful she is and how lucky I am to be married to her.

We met through 4-H, a community involvement and service organization. This wasn't by chance; both of us were dedicated to the program by the time that we met and both of us were engaged in our community beyond 4-H as well. She put in time with her school, helping to pass levies, served through her church and various other groups, as well as teaching others and helping younger kids grow and learn. This dedication to others carried through into college where it might be said that she even spent more time worrying about helping others than she did focusing on herself - a fine balance that every service leader must learn.

Now in our married years, we donate a good chunk of our small income towards churches, cancer research organizations, families in need, 4-H organizations and fair awards for kids. Now, you might say that donations of money is nothing compared to the nitty gritty of service in the field. And I agree with you to a point. It's easy to write a check when you have the money in the bank. But, when you have to plan out your groceries and reduce your utility bills so that you can save precious money, just to send it back out again to a deserving kid or cancer research patient, all the while working every waking hour just to break even at home - that takes service by donation to a whole new level. And it's not just donations and her dedication to financial support of organizations that makes her a hero in my book.

There's never a challenge that my wife will walk away from. As a volunteer, I get fed up with the attitude I get from parents or other volunteers. Many people forget about the kids we work to serve and get caught up in their own egos, but she just keeps on working. Sure, she gets as frustrated as the next person, but she knows the ultimate goal and sustains her dedication by knowing that it's all about the kids and encouraging/educating future generations. She puts in the long hours when necessary to make sure a job is done right and always asks how she can help others. Obviously, I'm a little biased, coming from someone so in love with such a wonderful, selfless person, but the world needs more like her.

Week 4 - Irish

The title of this post might be a little misleading for any readers who actually know me that well. Ever since I was a little kid and my parents helped me put together punchouts of a leprechaun family (some of which still randomly pop up in my LEGOs at my parentals), I have been Irish in my heart. Green was always the best color, even though I mistakenly thought blue was my favorite for so long. My time in 4-H, wearing around four-leafed clovers and striving to make all things better only fed my desire and so it was natural that when choosing colleges, the green just felt "right". My drinking days began and so did an Irish accent that was unpracticed and rarely a true duplication of anything spoken on the Emerald Isle. But down in my heart, I had the Irish spirit, the incessant optimism and independence despite the best efforts of the world to beat me down. St. Patrick's Day, though poorly celebrated in its alleged country of origin, is my favorite holiday of the year, often celebrated for a solid month by myself while my friends know not to submit themselves to the madness - they either avoid me in March or arrive on my doorstep with a case of beer.

Just another day post-St. Patty's.

Just one of my Irish pilgrimage locations - Cliffs at Aran Islands.

Teaching the Irish how we celebrate their heritage.

Be that as it may, there is one week every year that I bear no good will towards the school over in South Bend. Again this past weekend they were epitome of heartbreakers when they stormed into East Lansing and demolished my boys. With the B1G conference looking so shabby these past couple of years and riddled with both petty and terrible scandals, ESPN deemed the Spartans the last hope to redeem the honor of the conference this year. Mission failed. Spartans pulled another choke from the que cards and let the Irish defense (never heard of them before) walk, run and push all over them. Our O-line looked like high school freshmen in a gym class dance lesson. Awkwardly looking the wrong way for reassurance from their friends all night, they let the QB get beat down like a drunk jerk thrown out at the local PT O'Mally's. We preach on Spartan toughness, but the only toughness exhibited by a Spartan Saturday night was me as I opted out of the comfort booze held in ready. Rough night, but hopefully the boys can bounce back.

Since I got home from the conference, I have been struggling incessantly to get caught up. Tomatoes on the ground in the garden, clean laundry stacked up on the dryer, pear wine must ready for secondary fermentation and a car door that won't open from the outside all top my to-do list, but so have class assignments and a county fair. Unfortunately, although class should not be important for me while at work (and I do my studying whilst at home rather than at work), class assignments take up time at home I would prefer to allocate to something more fun. Professors at school have yet to realize that with the semester system, homework does not need to be handed out with the same frequency as with the quarter system. Even worse, handwritten homework should not be a function of graduate studies. I can understand drawing diagrams, etc., but handwriting analysis of papers and research is a backwards waste of my time at this point. But I can't be a chooser, so I push on - this will all be over soon anyhow.

Our county fair results are now finally in. For a couple of years now, my wife and I have been involved in the fair as photographers in order to practice photography as an art and in order to serve the fair in their need for better publicity. Because of this, we also compete in the fair photography show. This is just one more method of finding stress relief outside of academics during my graduate school. Unfortunately, my wife's best photo yet was shorted due to a rule against correction of entries. We had not originally intended to enter a black and white photo for her but when we printed the photos found one that was especially good. We framed it in hopes of persuading a class change, but with no luck. However, next year we can re-enter in the correct class. Two photos of my 5 turned out to be relatively competitive (a couple of them I only printed for fun around home). More than anything, I like taking photos as my form of artistic expression. I see the world differently from others and enjoy being able to share my point of view. I'll share just a couple of photos from this year.

My class-winning photo from last year's fair.

This photo lost to the show-winner.

While out photographing, I ran into some visitors from California who were in town for the game. They are my example of great tourists for the day. Because they were already in town for the game, they looked around for other out-of-the-norm activities to participate in and visit while in a new location. This desire for adventure beyond the typical tourist traps is what led them to our little fair where I met them at a regional lumberjack show. The sun blazing and minimal action did nothing to dissuade their enthusiasm. My challenge to the readers is to embrace this same sense of adventure that may lie buried deep within you. Cheers until next week!

Special Topic – Louisiana Hurricanes

A recent post of my friend’s on Facebook (source of all drama) stated that he was tired of listening to people in Louisiana bitch about hurricanes, the hardships of evacuations and tiring life of rebuilding. More importantly, he indicated displeasure with usage of taxpayer money to support emergency situations, rescuing and rebuilding a community of idiots. Strong language which obviously offended other friends of mine, especially when I posted that I generally agreed with his analysis of the situation, but this is truly similar to my opinion on the issue. Let me tell you what I know about Louisiana, and then put it into the context of hurricanes.

I once dated a girl from Louisiana, although the long-distance aspect of the relationship shadowed any time spent together in person. Positive in her outlook, cheerful in her pursuit of life, realistic and critical In discussion regarding contentious issues, forgiving of others’ shortcomings and always caring towards those less fortunate, she was a great girl. In an effort to better understand her upbringing and out of general curiosity for the part of the U.S. now highlighted in an overdose of redneck “documentaries”, the Cajun Bayou drew me in with its mystical party reputation and swampy tight-knit families. So when I came home from Europe, I immediately hopped on a transfer plane and disembarked in New Orleans. Thus ends my actual interactions (besides loaning my phone to a stranger stranded at arrivals) with the main city in question within this disagreement, but my experiences in the bayou culture are much more important to my point.

We drove West and North for alternating periods through cane sugar fields, the direct competition to my moonshine drinking friends back home. We talked about snakes and the difficulties in cutting cane, and the industry behind the product. Then we drove through an area closer to home as she told me about the recent hurricanes, how they flooded her school, how they kept her dad working overtime for weeks to keep the world running and assess damage and repairs. Her family was so excited to see me, boiling crawfish, eating gumbo and strange sausages while watching NASCAR (non-athletic sport centered around rednecks), and even taking a trip down to the marshes on the coast to go fishing. Don’t get me wrong, the attitude of relaxation, conversation and the importance of family strongly influenced my bias towards this culture rumored for obesity, alcoholism (drive-through margeritas??) and seafood – these people were truly great and I loved every minute. But, it was when we went out in the boat that I was officially head over heels in love with the area. I learned about fishing, the movement of the marshes by the hurricanes, the game warden (they actually have one who patrols and pays attention!) and alligators. I was attacked by a crab whose pincer was so much faster and stronger than I imagined. I picked up some sun and it was a long time before I was that happy again. We are still friends to this day, and I imagine some day she might read this post. Regardless of our opinions on the hurricane issue, know that I have a special place in my heart for the family that took me in as a stranger and invited me back again. Someday, I will have the time to go back and try to find that peace again. Thank you.

When we see hurricanes on the news, they focus on antiquated levees, over-confident elected officials and Doppler spreads that look like a 3-year-old got into the green crayons. But what we don’t see are all of the little moments that are interrupted, the homes destroyed, the jobs and profitability lost. When you meet the people who survive these storms, you are impressed by their resilience. They are tough and stubborn and from a community displaced from Nova Scotia, what attitude towards one more action to displace you from your home would you expect? To me, the tragedy of the destruction of a home cannot be made easier. This is true for the Colorado fire victims, or even those whose lives will be very hard this year after the great drought. 

 Funny looking sausage that tasted amazing!

 Crawfish pre-boiling. They wave those pincers around a lot. Some even get away and jump in the swimming pool.

Crawfish post-boil. Red and spicy. Remember to take your contacts out early!

 One crab got me faster than I could get him. This guy - not so lucky. Somebody else already got him.

I've never been a natural at fishing, but love the peace and sunny breeze.

As I recall, I didn't even catch this but more like reeled it in. Then had to figure how to get it off to let it go.

Apparently you have to kiss your first fish. It did NOT turn into a princess.

Position A (relaxing).

Perfect for days at 95 degrees and full humidity. :)

But we don’t see this reported where I live. Instead, we hear about the storm, the total number of people displaced, the number dead, the inches of rain and the money and assistance sent to help the people. Year after year, the storms get increasing impersonal, and I admit to wondering how often is too much for us to continue to send aid to patch the bleeding when there are millions of others who need aid who aren’t foolish enough to go back and get punched in the mouth again. And why don't we help people establish a safer life there or elsewhere rather than just keep building back the sand castles before the next tide? We hear shocked news anchors telling us that yet again there will be a category 4 wrecking the coastline industries or whatnot.

My heart goes out to those affected by any natural disaster, especially those people where the sanctuary of the home is destroyed or damaged. I know what a rich culture thrives in Louisiana and that so many lives are in need from the storms. But, I also want a solution for the future rather than a band-aid. Rather than merely fixing damages, we need to learn new ways to make living there safer or make predictions of storms and damages more accurate to protect human and animal lives. It is insensible to continue down the same path of guaranteed destruction.

Week 3 - Home

So this past week’s post is a touch late, by a touch I mean 4 days. I got so hung up in the flow of the weekend and then the rush of this week at a conference that I haven’t had to time to get life written down. Football season is now in full swing and my Spartans roll on towards the season-defining Notre Dame Irish this weekend. Last weekend we tailgated here at home for the game and had a few beers but less than I had planned on due to the crazy night before. Just a little love from a previous great game. :)

We went to a wedding at what I had presumed for years to be an abandoned warehouse but instead was a loft with 2 reception sites. A former work friend of my wife’s was married East of town amidst some of hurricane Isaac’s best followed by a rainbow and beautiful sunset. The party proceeded into town for a delicious catered meal and a rare view of downtown. My wife and I worried about the kind of people we would be sat with at the wedding with open seating, but we lucked out with a coal miner and his wife, and then a landscaper and his family. Real people with real lives can make new friends so much easier with good conversation. Glowsticks and dancing included, we had a pretty good time and got a significant amount of booze through the system, my wife more than I. It was definitely a night to remember; it’s so nice to be more relaxed in this new position and really focus on time together.

Biggest football game of the week was ULM’s win over Arkansas. I wanted to watch it since I knew some people involved in the game but we don’t get ESPNU so I fell asleep watching and hoping for some SEC losses. It’s not that I disagree that they’re the best, I just keep hoping for some other teams to catch up – MSU is pretty much the only hope now for the Spartans with OSU banned from the post-season.

The in-laws have a Spaniel puppy that is growing up to be aggressive and got in a fight with Betsy last weekend. Betsy is too nice to stand up for herself and she was pretty shaken after being cchased around the yard for her treat. The next morning she went outside and seemed broken – no sniffing, tail still, and she was silent. She stood in the driveway amidst the rain, drowning in her melancholy. Either she’s a good actor or she was pitifully sad. To make matters worse, that is the last I’ve seen her since I haven’t been home from the conference yet. As I write this, we are nearing our hometown, so I am going to break this one short in order to get in the car and hurry home to see her and my wife. Home is such a precious feeling, more than just where you live or how often you’re there. It’s where your heart is.

Week 2 - Hope

This week has been gilded in that four letter word and I believe it bodes of brighter days to come. By Friday, I was already becoming once again overwhelmed by the chaos that is my balance of work and studies, but the long Labor Day weekend helped me to relax and focus on what is important. So many things are going right in my life right now and it’s so wonderful to have time to spend with my wife when I come home from work instead of spending all of my time hunched over the laptop.

Classes continue to be just about the same. My research methods class is obviously designed for students with little experience in research but it is required for my degree so I just take exquisite notes with personal anecdotes in order to stay awake through it. The main homework assignments so far are to become certified to work with either animals or people here at Ohio State with research. I’ve been certified to do both for 3 years, so I’m literally just sitting in class twiddling my thumbs. Meanwhile, my other main class is finishing up our focus on American obesity. We saw compelling graphs that intake is the main problem here in the U.S. and then spent a day talking about neuron/hormone control and its effect on appetite. I think it’s really interesting that there is a cocaine receptor which decreases appetite and helps you lose weight (too bad doctors can’t prescribe that for our “epidemic”) and also found it interesting that food can trigger endorphin responses which have a similar effect to having sex. I can see how without one, you would turn to the other in large quantities and then slim your odds of achieving the other again.

Friday I played some serious hooky and drove into work for about an hour before heading straight back the other way. I drove through Starbucks, picked up my brother and a couple cases of good beer and headed North to my alma mater. Although we’re getting one in our backyard, there’s nothing like one of the destination-type Cabella’s stores for a mid-trip stop. We looked around at discount guns, and then took the short trip up to Bagger Dave’s in Ann Arbor. I naturally hate the city of Ann Arbor, but hidden beneath the scUMmy maize and blue are a couple of nice little places to crash for lunch. Bagger Dave’s does custom burgers and fries that could be a meal on their own, with all Michigan beers on tap; we did it all. Stuffed to the brim, we proceeded to cut the backroads to EL and arrived in time to do a little tailgating before going to watch the Boise State football game. My Spartans made me nervous for a while, but in the end they stayed true to B1G football and won the game on the ground with powerful defense and short-field strong move O-line shuffling and rushes. It’s definitely concerns about the 4 turnovers, loads of penalties and poor pass receptions that kept us out of the top 10 this week.

Amazingly, the night drove home on Friday was the only time I was on the road this past weekend where I wasn’t surrounded by cops. Huge presence of officers this year who were always pulling someone over made it obvious that there was a priority to stopping and enforcing the law on Labor Day weekend. Good for them, Michigan could have stood to borrow a few troopers though as I only saw 1 city officer the whole 4 hours I spent on the road in that great state. They really need more troopers up there; every time I go back it has turned into even more a lawless raceway than the time before. Of interest, texting while driving also became illegal for us this past week. I honestly thought it was illegal a while back, but now I have another 6 months before I can be ticketed for it. Why do they tell you these things? My stance on this issue is still one that doubts the necessity of that legislation. Why can’t officers just book you for reckless operation? This then covers whether you are texting, or distracted by a phone conversation, or entering dates in your calendar on your phone, or trying to talk on speaker phone while lacing your shoes and eating cereal with a dog in the passenger seat, or whatever other stupid things people try to do out there. Too many rules to ever be enforced means that they never will be.

Sunday, we drove out East into the hills to attend a cancer research benefit lunch. It was really great of Farm Bureau to invite us out to represent their involvement and our efforts with the Pelotonia ride that we took  earlier this year. The guy who throws the event lost his wife to cancer a few years ago and he really wanted to get agricultural groups together in support of this cause. His response to this loss is very brave and I hope that I could respond similarly even though I pray I will never have to do so. Afterwards, we were invited to the front as part of the "under 30s" to meet everyone else in attendance, during which a nice woman donated the last $200 that stood between us and our team goal of $5000 for cancer research this year. Overall, I'm sure the Pelotonia has to be getting up near $15 million, although we won't know for about another month.

Twitter is now also riding this blog but I'm not sure how I feel about it. Not only does Twitter update my "tweets"(?) but it also posts my personal conversation back and forth. Depending on how much I ever actually end up using the media device, this sidebar might have to go. For now it's just my avenue to dump status updates out to 2 different reader groups with only one click via Hootsuite. Hootsuite is super buggy and I always accidentally click this one tab which takes me through a welcome tour that I can't escape. Then I have to close the browser tab, open it up again and try to remember which button I wasn't supposed to click on. Eventually I'll get the hang of this.

Not only am I working to decorate this blog, but with my spare time I've finally been able to start getting things hung in the basement. Slowly but surely this bar will rise up, and I can't wait to tend bar in my own house, hopefully all up and running by the last games of the season. Yesterday marked my first ever framed posters. I buy posters occasionally, but always leave them rolled up. This making them difficult to appreciate, I went over to JoAnn's to buy some frames because they were 40% off. You know you've been to JoAnn's too often when they ask you if you have coupons, you say no, she then internally struggles if she should ask me to sign up for them because she doesn't stereotype me to ever come back. I respond that I really didn't need the coupons on this purchase anyways, which is when she realizes I'm right, because everything I bought was on sale. Anyhow, posters are framed, tonight they will be hanging and my collection of life's memories is starting to grace the walls.

Before I end this post, please allow me to have a public nerd moment. I came into work on Friday to find that the fermentation jars in our lab were finally sealed and no longer spilling gas. Inhibitors I dropped in had caused the desired spikes in precursors and I honestly just about skipped for joy down the halls. My research project is slowly becoming a reality and it feels really great knowing that it can all work out. I wonder if this is how all new PhD students feel?