Belle Plaine's Brass Band

There are so many activities during the holiday season that keep us busy sometimes we forget how special this time of year is.  I know that I tend to become overwhelmed with my to-do list.  I worry about money more than usual, I worry about getting my holiday cards mailed on time, I worry about buying that prefect gift, I worry about getting that extra batch of cutout sugar cookies made—well, you get the idea.  Sometimes the world around me seems to be whirling out of control.

The Ducans on violins

Belle Plaine citizens are lucky that our town offers some activities that put some balance into the season. Personally, for me, the music that we only listen to this time of year is one of the great joys of the season.  Even when it is piped into malls to be played over the speaker system, I enjoy it.  Even though I worked in retail for many years and heard the songs over and over again for two months every year, I still enjoy it. That being said, I want to tell you about one of my favorite pre-Christmas events.

One of the best ways to relax and remember what the Season is about is to attend The Prelude to Christmas Program hosted by the Christ United Methodist Church the first Sunday in December every year.

Nick Novak

The program was originally started by Grace Orvis fourteen years ago, and then taken over the next year by Jane Hrabak due to the deteriorating health of Mrs. Orvis.  As I talked to Jane about the history of the program, her voice held a wealth of emotion that conveyed her commitment to the program and the joy she feels to be able to offer such a wonderful event to the people of the town she loves. Though the program started with just a few people participating, it has become a true event.

Christ United Methodist Choir

Participants vary from year to year. This year ten groups or individuals shared their talent with us.  Children and adults alike stepped up to the front of the church and shared Christmas music with the audience.  Jane emphasized to me that rather than just performing for us, the musicians truly share their talent with us.  As part of the audience, I believe that is such a good way of describing the feeling you get as you sit there watching and listening to such talented people.  You are pulled into the program along with the artists. You are truly part of the program.  They are sharing the experience.

Jane Hrabak reads the Christmas Story

At the end of the evening, Jane reads the Story of Christmas with instrumental music lightly playing in the background.  A sense of peace forms within me every year as she does this.  I leave the church ready to start the chaos of the following weeks with a new perspective. Jane shared with me that she gets asked every year if she is going to read the Story of Christmas. It is obvious this reading is looked forward to every year.

The theme Jane chose for this year’s program was Blessed. She chose this for personal reasons as well as the knowledge that a lot of people in Belle Plaine have had struggles this past year and have recovered from them, or maybe, these struggles have given them the opportunity to stop and remember what they still have. Many people have told Jane that the program makes them feel rejuvenated.  Jane also shared with me that when Prelude to Christmas is over she tells herself, “Now I can get ready for Christmas”.  I feel the same way!

By Kim Blink

Production Lines

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Jeff M. Brown

“A man who is “of sound mind” is one who keeps the inner madman under lock and key.”                                                                                                                   –Paul Valery

“I can’t find my lock and I have no idea where I left my keys.”                  –Jeff Brown

Universe, Stop Messing with Me

Some days I really think I’m losing it.  By “some days” I mean “every day”, and by “losing it” I mean “I’m losing my mind.”  I don’t know if I’m getting old or senile or just set in my ways, but, lately, it seems, I have trouble doing the simplest of things.  Time and time again I think I do everything exactly right, but my results always end up telling a different story.   For instance, I was driving my wife’s car the other day and was trying to set the cruise control.  I pressed the CRUISE button and then SET.  Nothing happened.  I tried again.  Still nothing.

“There’s something wrong with your cruise control.”  I said to my wife matter-of-factly.

She raised an eyebrow at me from the passenger seat and replied, “Did you press the CRUISE button?”

I rolled my eyes.  “Yes, of course I did.”  I demonstrated to her by pressing it again.

“Did you press the SET button?”

“I did that too,” I said, jabbing it with my right pointy finger.  “It’s not me, it’s your car.”  Right then and there, as if the cruise control gods heard me and were intent on making me look like an idiot, it worked.

Grrr.

I know I shouldn’t let the so-called “small stuff” bother me, but these little incidents keep on happening, and it’s really getting on my nerves.  Another example happened last week when I was using my sister’s computer running Microsoft Word 2007. Now, I’m not completely familiar with this word processor because I still like to use Word 97. (What can I say?  It was a good year for word processors.)  Perhaps it’s a glaring example of my resistance to change, but I simply don’t want to learn another word processing program.  The one I’m using works just fine and, more importantly, I understand it.  Technological advancement is great, but change for the sake of change, not so much.

Interesting fact: My wife and I have a Wii video gaming system hooked up in our living room, but we rarely use it.  I’m more interested in getting our old Atari system out of storage.  Pong anyone?

Ninety nine percent of the time I get along just fine with my ancient computer skills.  It’s that pesky one percent when I use someone else’s computer– like my sister’s, when I have problems.  (Don’t tell her, but I think she’s a show off with her fancy smancy word processer.)  Anyhow, I was trying to find the print preview and couldn’t find it.  I pressed the weird alien symbol in the upper left corner.  That wasn’t it.  I clicked HOME.  Not there.  I went down the toolbar line– INSERT, PAGE LAYOUT, REFERENCES, MAILINGS, REVIEW, and, finally, VIEW.  I still couldn’t find the print preview and, boy, was I frustrated.  Luckily my daughter was nearby.  With one eye twitching, I asked, “Where the heck is the print preview?”

She stood behind me looking over my shoulder.  “Did you press VIEW?”

“Yes, of course I did.”

She grabbed my mouse and clicked on it again.  “Here’s the print preview,” she said matter-of-factly.  “It’s right here, only now it’s called the print layout.”

Sure enough, there it was.  Somehow I missed it.

Grrr.

Sometimes I think the universe is messing with me.  I mean that phrase in the most normal, most sane sense possible.  Oh, sure, I admit that sometimes I can be oblivious to things.  I suppose that could be part of the reason why I couldn’t make the cruise control work or find the print preview– excuse me– print layout.  But, I ask, could my obliviousness alone be responsible for me losing my slippers, sunglasses, cell phone, car keys, and TV remote several times a day every single day of the week?  I don’t think so.

Yeah, I’m being messed with.

Speaking of the remote, I totally believe it to be the 60 buttoned instrument that the universe uses to screw with me the most.  Half the time I can’t find the darned thing, and the other half it won’t work.  Faced with a blank screen recently, I pressed the PWR, TV, CBL, DVD, VCR, SETTINGS, MENU, INFO, EXIT, and GUIDE buttons.   Nothing helped.  Frustrated, I vented to my wife.

“The TV remote is acting up again and, yes, I tried everything.”

She raised an eyebrow at me from the other side of the couch.  “Did you press VIDEO SOURCE?”

Grrr.

During the next serveral months, I’m going to take the oportunity to sing Belle Plaine’s praises.  I’m going to try to focus on a different aspect of living in Belle Plaine in each of my writings.  

One of the leading reasons my family moved here 9 years ago was because the school system was not consolidated, and my children would not have to be bused to another town to attend school.  We knew coming in that the school system was small, but we wanted to live in a smaller community which meant either a consolidated school system or a small one.  My husband and I both attended a rather large school and wanted something different for our children.  At my graduation, I actually walked up to the stage to get my diploma with a student I had never even seen throughout my entire high school career!

 I know a lot can be said about the advantages of a larger school system, such as a larger variety of classes and cultural interactions.  I also know that a lot can be said about a smaller school system.  I feel my children are extremely lucky to be in the Belle Plaine School System.  They know ALL of their classmates and most of the population of the high school. They know who their classmates’ siblings are, what their parents’ names are and frequently know where they live.  I like knowing my children are friends with most of the school.  Like schools everywhere, large or small,different groups of students tend to “hang out” together in smaller groups, but that doesn’t stop comfortable interaction with the general population during school activities or school hours.  

As I was talking to my oldest son on the phone one evening, I explained that his sister had just walked into the house and therefore must have caught a ride with a classmate or a classmate’s parent after basketball practice.  My son replied that he had always been able to get a ride home from somebody if needed because the kids in Belle Plaine were more than willing to help each other out when he was in school too.  

I like the fact that when one of my teenagers is telling me about their day, and they mention someone’s name, I can almost always put a face to that name.  I enjoy going to football, basketball, or softball games and knowing who is playing.  This really gives me a sense of community and an interest in all of the players’ success.  When I was in high school (yes, I know that was a long time ago) and attended a sporting event, it wasn’t unusual for me to not recognize some of the players.  That is definately an alien concept to my children.  What a wonderful feeling it must be to know you belong where you are.  

My youngest child is a freshman and participates in almost every extracurricular activity offered.  What is great about doing this in a smaller school is that she actually gets to participate.  My cousin has children in the Ankeny School System, and his sons get discouraged because they sit on the bench most of the time. My daughter is probably not any better in athletics than his sons, but there is such a large student body to choose from in Ankeny when selecting players, for whatever sport is offered, that his boys get lost in the crowd.  It would be hard to get “lost in the crowd” at BP High School, and I believe that is a very good thing. Most of our children will not grow up to be professional athletes, even if they do play start to finish in the sports of their choice, but our children will leave the halls of BP High School with a sense of accomplishment and confindence because they know their worth.  Because our class counts are low, it is important that as many students as possible get involved so our programs can continue, therefore,  most students will graduate high school knowing that participation is needed to “stay in the game”.  

Another great life lesson the children of Belle Plaine are learning is volunteerism.  A past prinicpal initiated the Silver Cord Program to benefit our young citizens.  This has also benefited organizations throughout our town.  Children in the Belle Plaine Schools are learning that volunteering is necessary for the betterment of community and of their personal self worth.

As a parent, it was easy to get involved in the school system through volunteering with booster clubs and sitting in the bleachers at music and sporting events with local teachers and other parents.  I see my childrens’ teachers all around town and even volunteer throughout the community with some of them.  They know who I am, and I know who they are.  

We have never once regreted our decision to enroll our children in the Belle Plaine School System, and I would recommend it to anyone.  Our family has benefited greatly by our move to Belle Plaine, and I expect the benefits of living here to continue a lifetime.  

By Kim Blink

“I’ve been married to one Marxist and one Fascist, and neither one would take the garbage out.” - Lee Grant

 “I live with one cat and one dog, and neither one takes the garbage out.” - Jeff Brown

 The Case of the Missing Garbage Can

So, there I was, standing by the curb slack-jawed in the early morning sunlight. My half-asleep brain was still trying to wrap itself around the odd situation that lay before me. The recycle box was right where I left it the night before, stuffed full of old paper towel tubes, flattened cereal boxes, and a couple empty peanut butter jars. (Cereal and peanut butter are the base of my food pyramid.) The garbage can, however, was nowhere to be seen.

Tuesday morning is when the garbage gets picked up in my neighborhood. I always take it to the street Monday evenings because I’m prudent. One of my worst nightmares is to forget to get the garbage out on time. The re-occurring dream usually involves me chasing a garbage truck down the street with my cat’s dirty litter box under one arm, and a punctured Glad Force Flex bag under the other.

Interesting fact: Although the Force Flex drawstring garbage bag is remarkably tough and durable, you can only force and flex it so much before dirty cat litter erupts out of it like a tiny, unsanitary, Mount Vesuvius.

What kind of idiot criminal, I wondered, would want to steal my garbage can? I’m certainly not the most absorbent paper towel in the grocery store, (that would be Bounty, the quicker picker upper) but if were going to steal a garbage can in cold blood, I would, well, you know, DUMP THE GARBAGE OUT FIRST.

Then a most terrifying thought struck me- maybe I was being stalked. Somebody could have been going through my garbage right at that very moment, looking for valuable insights to my incredibly glamorous and interesting life. My inner Sherlock Holmes reasoned that the dirty cat litter proved my wife’s cat used the litter box regularly. All the yucky paper towels, I hypothesized, proved our geriatric dog didn’t. The stalker, I deduced, should be throwing up right about now.

Elementary, my dear Watson.

I scratched my head and tried to think clearly. Maybe I hadn’t been robbed or stalked. Maybe someone was just messing with me. I looked up and down the street. There were trash cans in front of nearly all the houses. Could one of them be mine? Although I’ve owned my can for years, I’m not sure if I could positively identify it in a police lineup.

Imagine this…

A police officer and I are sitting behind a one-way mirror at the local jail. There are six garbage cans lined up on the other side.

Officer: Do you recognize any of these cans?

Jeff: (Hiding my face behind my hand) Are you sure they can’t see me?

Officer: Yes, it’s a one-way mirror.

Jeff: (Squinting intently.) Could someone turn can number three sideways? (An officer on the other side of the mirror turns the can and accidentally knocks the lid off. He promptly doubles over.)

Jeff: (Coughing and holding my nose) Yeah that’s my garbage can. I thought you said it was a one-way mirror?

This was crazy, I thought. My can had to be nearby. I walked down the sidewalk, paying special attention to everyone’s garbage. Before I knew it I found myself standing in front of an especially impressive heap. This neighbor sure had a lot of trash this week, and several garbage cans to boot. One of them looked vaguely familiar, but was it mine?

There weren’t any cars coming. I glanced at the house and didn’t see anyone gawking at me through the windows. Oh my Gosh, I thought, I could get arrested for this. I tried to be nonchalant. I put my hands in my pockets. Yep, neighbors, it’s just me, Jeff, going for a leisurely morning walk. I’m not doing anything wrong or suspicious, and I certainly wouldn’t dream of going through your garbage.

But, there I was, standing by the curb in the early morning sunlight, doing just that. I didn’t know who put the can there, and I didn’t know why, but when I removed the lid, I knew it was mine. I drug it and its unsavory contents back to my house.

Somewhere along the way I pulled a muscle in my back. To help recover from the ordeal, I sat on my front step for a few minutes. Sure enough, the garbage truck came around the corner. As I watched the garbage man empty the neighbor’s garbage cans, and then mine, I realized something.

Yeah, I’m an idiot.

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by Jeff M. Brown

“Middle age is when your classmates are so gray and wrinkled and bald they don’t recognize you.” - Bennett Cerf

Reunited and it feels so Good

“My twenty year class reunion is coming up. Want to go?”

My wife smiled at me from across the kitchen table and I knew this wasn’t a real question. If it were a real question, I could respond with a real answer such as “yes” or “no” or “I think I’m due for another colonoscopy that weekend.”

What she really was saying to me over our spaghetti and salad was, “My twenty year class reunion is coming up and you’re coming with me because you’re my husband, and husbands are required by their wedding vows to go to their wives’ class reunions.”

Minister: Do you promise to take this woman for better or worse, in sickness and in health, and to go to all her class reunions without complaining about it?”

Jeff: I do.

I grew up in a small town and graduated in a class of about 50 students. Despite the ravages of time and disease and the dollar menu at McDonalds, it wasn’t much of a problem for me to identify my former classmates at my 20-year reunion. My wife, however, grew up in a bigger town in a class of nearly 300 students. It’s hard for me to believe, but she says she didn’t even know everyone in her class at graduation.

When we arrived at the convention center for the event, all the former students received a badge with their teenage picture printed on them. The badges were apparently designed to help the women identify each other minus their large ‘80’s hairdos, and the men identify each other minus, well, their hair. My wife pinned her badge to her shirt and we went inside.

It was an impressive airy room with 15 tables set for dinner and a place in the front set up with audio equipment for the DJ and announcements. Nearly 70 former classmates showed up with their significant others, so, by my calculations, (math never was one of my favorite high school courses) there were quite a few people milling around. They were having a good time too, getting re-acquainted with each other. Perhaps I was a little cynical, but I imagined at least one or two of the conversations starting out something like this.

Former Student #1: Hey, I remember you! Do you remember me?

Former Student #2: (Glancing at the person’s identification badge and nodding with an awkward smile.) Of course I remember you!

Dinner started at 7:30 PM and I also couldn’t help but imagine this class eating lunch in a cafeteria 20 plus years ago. It wasn’t hard. There were the popular folks (the entire class of 1990) talking and laughing loudly. There were the uncomfortable looking nerdy folks (this included me and the other spouses bound by their wedding vows to be there) sitting quietly at their tables. And then there was the guy laughing so hard milk shot out of his nose. Okay, I’m kidding about that last one.

When the meal was finished, it was time for the group picture. Although I only knew a handful of these people, I thought it was pretty cool to see everyone from all walks of life come together and get photographed for the first time in twenty years. I also couldn’t help but think that my wife was the most beautiful woman in the class. (Yeah, I should get some major brownie points for that line.)

I have only one complaint about the evening: the music was too loud. (Those darned young people with their loud rock and roll music.) I thought the DJ’s selection was terrific and appropriate for the age group, but the volume made it extremely difficult for me to hear what people were saying. (Maybe this 40 year old geezer needs a Lee Majors Hearing Aid.) Despite the inconvenience, everyone was still having a great time getting re-acquainted with each other

Former Student #1: HEY, I REMEMBER YOU! DO YOU REMEMBER ME?

Former Student #2: (Glancing at the person’s identification badge and nodding with an awkward smile.) WHAT?

Interesting fact: Lots of old people are deaf because they never missed a class reunion.

All in all, my wife had a terrific time catching up with her old friends. She was just a little disappointed, however, because she didn’t get a chance to speak with everyone. Judging from the amount of time she’s spending on Facebook lately, she’s definitely trying to make up for it.

I had a great time too and it got me thinking about my upcoming 25-year class reunion in 2013. It’ll be fun introducing my wife to all my former classmates, provided she isn’t scheduled for a colonoscopy that weekend.

By Jeff Orvis

“Tell Gary to hang on, I’ll be home this weekend.”

That was my message to my mom the first of this month as I made final preparations to move from Belle Plaine to Davenport. The job situation dictated it was time to look elsewhere and as I’ve said before, when I learned that my employment was ending in Belle Plaine, my first thought was maybe it was God’s way of telling me to get closer to mom, aunts, uncles and cousins.

I certainly didn’t expect another message in the form of a jolt of bad news so soon. On my last trip home before the move, I learned that my Uncle Gary had recently been diagnosed with terminal cancer. His doctors had offered some treatment, but said with the form of cancer he had, the treatment would be no guarantee of extra quality time and certainly no real hope of a cure. So Gary and his wife decided that he would take the time he had left without the invasive treatment.

Two weeks later, my mom and I were sitting in Gary and Amy’s living room on a Sunday afternoon. The Bears game was playing softly in the background. Gary was heavily sedated and lying on a hospital bed that took up much of the room. Although unable to speak very much at this point, he was awake and even sat up a couple of times. Due to the medication, we were unsure of whether he really recognized us. But as we were living, Mom gave her younger brother a hug and I shook his hand (a surprisingly firm handshake on his part) and we said we’d see him again. The next day, he was gone.

Much of this story is undoubtedly familiar to all too many of us who have lost a loved one to this horrible disease. But a 66-yeear-old man in otherwise seemingly good health, without a weight problem who led an active lifestyle is just not supposed to die like this.

So what’s the point of this story for the readers? It’s much more than a chance for me to pay tribute to this gentle, compassionate man who seemingly never met a stranger. It goes back to my first point of reconnecting with family.

Make no mistake, I loved my time in Belle Plaine and my time in Independence before that. I consider many of you a member of my extended family and really appreciate the words of support and encouragement you have shown me. But I have to admit that on some of those sunny Sunday afternoons, as I drove down the streets of Belle Plaine and noticed some homes where there were several cars parked nearby, I felt a little homesick. I realized that in at least some of those homes, moms and dads, grandmas and grandpas, aunts, uncles and cousins of all ages were gathered for a Sunday feast and a time of rememberance.

These family gatherings were common when I was growing up. But as is the case with a lot of things, you don’t realize how important they were until they didn’t happen as often, if at all. I have heard high school seniors say they can hardly wait until they graduate so they can leave Belle Plaine and never look back. My advice is, go out, seek your fortune. Whether you find your future near or far, don’t forget those Sunday afternoons with family. Not everyone is lucky enough to have relatives that love them.

In past years, reporters for the Plainsman have interviewed students about their holiday plans. I am encouraged when many of them mention how they plan to spend time with their families. It may not seem as exciting as a ski trip to the mountains, but I’ve learned that family time is fleeting and you have to take advantage of it as long as you can.

Sorry if this has seemed a bit preachy and I thank you readers for your patience. Many families have people like my uncle Gary, but unfortunately sometimes we don’t realize it until they’re gone.

Rest in peace, Uncle Gary.

Well, I knew this day would come, but as it drew nearer, time seemed to speed up. This will be my farewell column to the good people of Belle Plaine. At the end of this week, I will be moving back to the Quad-City area to find the next chapter in this grand adventure while becoming reacquainted with family and friends there.

When I was informed a few months ago that the full-time position here was being eliminated due to budget concerns, my first thought was not one of self-pity or anger. My first thought was that maybe this was God’s way of telling me I needed to get closer to family. My mom lives in Davenport and although she is still very mobile, we all get older and I want to be able to spend some more quality time with her. My only sibling, my sister, lives in Florida, so I’ve gladly assumed the duties of being the most available immediate family member. The decision to move to Davenport was further reinforced in a rather cruel way in the last month when I learned that my mom’s brother, Gary, has been diagnosed with terminal cancer. My last message to my mom was to tell him to hold on, I would be home by the weekend.

We moved here in 1997 after Don Magdefrau offered me a job at the Union. Our attempt at publishing a weekly newspaper in Independence had failed after about a year and I was looking for a job in the newspaper field. I had been to Belle Plaine a grand total of one time in my life, but once we moved here, it took no time to call it “home.” Living in a town this size is so much different than the Quad-Cities. I often joke that here, if you pass someone on the street and don’t wave, they may start talking about you! But the point is, they care enough to wave.

We’ve been through a lot of joys and sorrows over these 13+ years. It’s so nice to be able to go home to Davenport and brag that I attended a meeting with the mayor, city administrator and school superintendent. I usually follow that up by asking the Davenport resident I’m talking to when was the last time you talked with your mayor?

Living in Belle Plaine provides many opportunities to get involved in your community. But it also carries a lot of responsibility. As city officials have often said, and it also pertains to our school district, if you do nothing, you decline. That’s why the plans for the downtown revitalization project, the recently completed aquatics center and the school improvements are so exciting.

People in this town care. This was brought home to me on Sunday at church when the Rev. Jim Campbell had a moving moment in the service called “sending forth” when he called me in front of the congregation, said some very kind words and offered a prayer for my peace and future success.

Since folks around town have heard about my leaving, they have been very kind in their words of support, which is not surprising. That’s just the way people are in this town.

Now it’s time for a little plug. While I greatly appreciate the words of encouragement, the greatest compliment to me would be if some people would step forward and offer to volunteer to help maintain this web site. We need people who would cover city council and school board meetings, local sports, the police beat and other local news. If you have the time and interest in any of these areas, please stop in the Belle Plaine Community Development office and tell Sheila. On line news is the wave of the future. Don’t let our dream die!

There are so many people I should thank for this great ride. I know I would probably forget someone if I tried to mention individuals. My thanks to Don for bringing me here and for the Belle Plaine Community Development folks for keeping me here. Thanks to all of my contacts, from coaches, teachers and other school officials to city officials and other community members who have furnished great news over the years.

In closing, I just want to say I believe in Belle Plaine. Keep your eyes on what should be a great future. Thanks to the internet, I will keep watching and look forward to visiting in the future and seeing a thriving and renewed downtown.

Editor’s note: The following is a revised version of my column. I was a bit tough on the media relations department at Alliant in the earlier version and to their credit, they did respond to my questions, nearly 24 hours after my initial request.

“Where Were You When the Lights Went Out?” was the name of a popular tune more than a few years ago. I think it might have been inspired by a blackout on the east coast.

That tune came to mind earlier this week when we experienced a lights-out situation here in Belle Plaine. I was making a final check of my Facebook account on the internet and was just about ready to shut down the computer for another day when suddenly everything went dark. Everything except for my laptop, which I discovered automatically switched over to battery power, so my living room had a little light until I could locate my flashlight.

The golden oldie tune was one immediate thought, as well as a memory of a late winter weekend when an ice storm left us all in the dark for a few days.

This time, since it was great weather with no ice, no thunderstorms and no wind, I imagined that either a squirrel or raccoon met a sudden end when climbing on the wrong pole or that someone had hit a utility pole somewhere. I remembered the instructions from the power company that when you experience a power interruption, you should report it. Luckily, I located my cell phone and dutifully punched in the number. Of course, I didn’t talk to a living human. We are all creatures of the electronic age and so I reported the outage, along with my address, etc. The electronic voice on the other end said the goal would be to restore service in two hours.

I realize that much of our town was already in bed by the time the lights went out at 10:30 p.m., but I decided to try to stay up so I wouldn’t wake up the next morning to the TV set and living room lights on. I grabbed the flashlight and wandered around the house, looking out the windows. At that time of night, Belle Plaine is generally a pretty quiet place, except when the trains roll through town. With all of the houses suddenly dark, without even one streetlight shining, the silence was nearly deafening. Looking up in the sky, I was reminded of something that my rural friends are well aware of. On a clear night with low humidity, Nature’s natural light show – the moon and stars – is especially spectacular.

I finally decided to give up for the night and headed up to bed. As I was wrestling with the flashlight while dispensing my nightly medication, the lights suddenly came on, almost precisely two hours to the moment they went out. I reset the flashing digital clocks and finished getting ready for bed.

The next day, I checked the daily newspaper and the local newscasts, hoping to hear an explanation. There was nothing. Later that day, somebody in a store told me he heard that several other area towns were without power. But nothing official was reported.

So I tried to get the story from the public relations department at Alliant Energy. That’s where the second part of this story gets interesting. I figured that if I called the 800 number at mid-afternoon the next weekday, surely the phone would be answered by a real person. Silly me!

I traveled through a maze of electronic connections and commands and finally, after what seemed like 10 minutes of listening to the most awful hold music, I reached a customer service representative. I explained that I wasn’t calling as a customer, but as a reporter looking for answers. She put me on hold again, with more terrible canned music, came back on the line to say she was trying to locate someone to answer my questions and then a few minutes later, she returned to say she couldn’t locate anyone in the media relations department. She promised to send a request to the department and someone would get back to me.

I finally got a response to my inquiry earlier Friday afternoon. Justin Foss said the outage affected several area towns from Elberon and Belle Plaine to Van Horne and Blairstown, nearly 1,100 customers. He said the Alliant crews traveled the lines in the area and couldn’t find an obvious reason for the outage. He explained that when a problem is detected, such as a tree branch landing on the lines or an animal on the lines for a specific period of time, the system shuts down automatically.

Anybody out there have an explanation?

I’ve been looking into this whole governor’s race thing here in Iowa and believe it or not, I’m not sure who I will vote for. That may seem strange to those of you who know I am a bleeding heart liberal on many issues. But it’s a little different if you’ve had a chance to have a conversation with each candidate over the years.

When Terry Branstad was our governor, he was in Independence on a number of occasions. I first met him when we had breakfast while he was still the lieutenant governor, running for the top spot. When he was elected to the governor’s post, he was in town a couple of times, including one morning when he came in to run in our annual road race. He was a bit early and I found him warming up all by himself on a side street. So I went over and welcomed him to town, etc.

I finally got to meet our current governor when he was in Belle Plaine a few months ago for a town meeting. Gov. Culver was a school teacher at one point in his career and I remember that while he seemed at ease when he arrived at the community center, he really started to loosen up and seem at ease when a busload of high school students arrived.

But let’s get back to the election campaign. Quite frankly, I don’t think either man has been particularly well served by his handlers. From the reports and excerpts I heard about their first debate, they spent most of the night calling each other names and disputing the other guy’s claims. In their television ads, when they aren’t dumping on their opponent, they are talking about their past accomplishments.

Enough about the past, we want to know what you are going to do for us if your next address is Terrace Hill.

It seems clear to me that both candidates are saying what they think their major donors want to hear. This has been especially true of Branstad up to this point. It was reported that he didn’t favor the current program to provide preschool for all of Iowa’s kids. But wasn’t he the president of Des Moines University? How could he oppose a progressive education system, starting with preschool for all, regardless of the cost? Someone in charge of an academic institution should be well familiar with how some students struggle to succeed in school. Culver, the former classroom teacher and coach, certainly does.

It was reported that Branstad favored abolishing the Iowa Department of Economic Development (IDED). He wants to replace it with a volunteer board of business people or some such thing. But I seem to remember the past governor Branstad leading trade delegations around the world trying to drum up business for our state. The IDED has certainly had some problems in recent years, most notably this whole film scandal. But anyone who has been involved in Belle Plaine’s recent development projects, Main Street Iowa, Great Places and even Vision Iowa have seen how enthusiastic and helpful the personnel in the IDED have been for us. They want us to succeed and they really seem to enjoy their jobs.

Branstad’s people have also criticized our I-Jobs program. They claim that we still have a lot of folks out of work and the I-Jobs program has been too expensive without creating permanent employment. But job creation is only a part of the I-Jobs program. Just look at our Main Street a year from now or drive on some of the improved roads across the state or ask city leaders in many Iowa communities who have better water and sewer systems thanks to I-Jobs grants. Those projects won’t disappear tomorrow.

Gov. Culver has been hit time and time again with crises across the state, including floods, tornadoes and a national economy that is in really bad shape. His people point out that Iowa is still in better financial shape than many other states. But his leadership skills have been questioned.

I’ll have to admit, when Branstad emerged as his party’s candidate, my first thought was Culver’s time was almost done. But if voters listen to Branstad’s campaign ads and some of the ideas he has put forth to this point, the election may be closer than many first believed.

Let’s hope that as the election draws nearer, both men will get better advice and advance some positive ideas that will make Iowa the best place to live in the country.

There’s no escaping it. For the next couple of months, we will be bombarded with claims and counter-claims, filled with truth, half-truth and outright lies. Unfortunately, that’s what election time has become in this country.

If you listen to an election news report in the coming weeks for five minutes and you don’t hear something about same sex marriage, you probably have somehow tuned in a report from Mars. It seems that way too many candidates for different offices have abandoned taking the true high road and have decided to take the easy road in campaign rhetoric. You can usually spot them. They’re the ones whose mouths are wide open, faces beet-red with one or two veins popping out on the sides of their heads. In most cases, they vow to make same sex marriages illegal in this country.

I’ve written in this space before about my beliefs on the subject. I may or may not agree that two people of the same sex should marry, but I do believe that the government should not be making that decision. If two people agree that they want to make a lifetime commitment to each other, the only thing the government should do is affirm that right – not through marriage, which is best handled in a church – but by a civil union document.

The arguments for and against same sex unions seem so simple. But when you get Washington or Des Moines involved, suddenly it becomes very complicated. Unfortunately, that’s how so many of our laws are. For instance, do away with the state and federal income tax and replace it with a sales tax that can’t be tampered with through exceptions by the legislature or Congress and suddenly our state and national representatives could cut their time in Des Moines or Washington by about half.

Why is it that so many of us have to have some cause to become completely insane about? Ask someone who is campaigning against allowing same sex unions how granting this right will be harmful to them and they will say that it harms traditional marriage. With this nation’s high divorce rate, how is same sex union any worse? Ask any of these zealots if they would ever try to tell someone if they should be a Catholic or a Baptist or a Lutheran and they would say that should be left up to each individual’s conscience. So why should same sex unions be any different?

I have a theory about why there is so much talk about this subject on the campaign trail. The candidates whose main goal is to deny this right are not equipped to solve many of this country’s more pressing problems. We don’t know how to solve this nation’s economic problems, but we do know if we prohibit same sex unions, the world will be a brighter place. We might jump on the wacko bandwagon which is still questioning whether our president was born in this country, but we don’t have a clue on how we can bring an end to terrorism.

We all need a project of some kind. It’s one way to give us a purpose for getting up each morning. All I’m saying is our project should not tread on the rights of others. Maybe we don’t have an answer on how we can end our involvement in Afghanistan. But a lot of us know someone who is deployed in that region. Why not channel some of our energy to raising funds and helping to pack care packages for the soldiers? If you don’t have the resources or the time to help in this way, you certainly have a moment to pray for their safe return.

On a lighter note, if you are a conspiracy nut, why not investigate why companies, especially food companies, are decreasing the amount of product they are selling us for the same money as before. A half-gallon of ice cream is now 1.75 quarts. A pound of coffee is now just over 11 ounces and falling. There’s more water in that can of green beans or tuna than there was a few years ago. How’s that for a conspiracy?

If you still insist on participating in this crazy election game, go to rallies or town meetings of legislative or congressional candidates and if there is a question and answer session, ask the tough questions. Ask them about their plan on improving our state or national economy and putting us all back to work. Ask the Congressional candidates what is their plan for ending our war in the Middle East. Ask them if they endorse a simplified revenue system, such as the national sales tax, etc.

If they don’t have a ready answer and insist on returning to the same sex argument, get up and leave.