So, in theory, you turn on the weather report, usually on a local network station, and find out.

Hahahahahaha.

Don't get me wrong, weatherpeople are valued people in my book. Most of them are just downright cute even.

But put them in front of a weather map, and watch them transform. Into a fountain of knowledge. Knowledge that I expect them to know, and hope they're good at it, so I don't need to be.

When I want to know if it's likely to rain, I may or may not find out. I'm waiting, watching, to find out if the word "rain" hits our airwaves. To get to that word, however, I must first wade through high pressure systems, avoid giant arm swooshes that indicate all kinds of fronts on the horizon. And they don't necessarily have to be on our horizon, just any horizon, Oregon's even. That "front" may lead to the possibility of the likelihood that it might mean showers for us in 2 weeks. But that's only IF it keeps on its present course. If it changes course anytime within that 2 weeks, well then, it could mean anything. Even a plague of locusts.

I figure once we cover the weather across the nation, we'll get down to our local weather. Will it or won't it rain today? Don't know. Again the arms make a swooshing motion over the weathermap re: more pressure systems, fronts, and types of clouds.

If those clouds perform this motion without morphing into a different kind of cloud, the pressure systems probably won't collide. Which would mean that the front won't make it here.

Excitement usually mounts, and the weatherperson's voice may go up an octave or two at this point. He is leaping from side to side of the weather map.

My mind wanders and I think, "well at least it doesn't matter as much as during World War II when many of the shoes had cardboard soles, and during rain, they often parted ways with the rest of the shoe. Happened to my mom on the day my parents got married. She still declares she lost her soul on her wedding day. But I digress.

Uh oh, for the time my mind wandered, the weatherman announced whether it would rain today. I missed it!! Now my options become taking the umbrella, sunglasses, raincoat , suncreen and cover every scenario, or wait for the next weather report. I'd also need to learn to speak weather again before that happened.

I gather my 20 pound bag with all weather-related items, including my rubbers. (stop snickering that's what generations before us called the rubber things that went over our shoes to protect them. Mine were red and my "MO" was to hid them in the milkbox)

I head out the door and wonder if any of those pressure systems, fronts, cloud formations, swooshes and dips mean it will rain today. Or in two weeks. Here or in Oregon.

I look up when I get outside to see a gorgeous rainbow. Ha! God really threw us a curve on that one!! And covered all fronts. Somewhere, it's raining.

I just heard another report of one of these deeds. A young Marine, who just finished his third tour in war zones was out in California going through debriefing. At this point, that was finished, but they still hadn't been released to go home.

This Marine had a special reason to want to get home. His wife was about to give birth to their second child. It did not look like he was going to get home in time. That is, until someone spoke to Todd Platts on his behalf.

Things happened.

He flew in over the weekend, and was greeted by his 2 1/2 year old daughter who told everyone that "her daddy was in "Raq." And she told her grammy that when he got home, she was going to give him a big, big hug. And so she did. Hugged his legs, and wouldn't let go of her daddy.

Daddy was by his wife's side when their new little daughter came into the world on Monday. Hero and family are doing well. Very well. Even one of their two dogs has barely left his "papa" out of his sight, and the dog's non-stop wagging tail must have exhausted the canine!

We know for a fact that Mr. Platts did not do this for a "constituent" or a "voter." He did it for a family who has served their country over and over.

More than one hero here!!

A very attractivewoman, dressed nicely, and she had golden hair. She went right up to the counter where she was greeted by her daughter-in-law who introduced her mother-in-law to my mom, and the two struck up a conversation.

The talk turned to Estelle's last birthday, which was her 95th. Unbelievable it seemed, because she didn't even look to be in her 80's much less having passed the 90 mark 5 years ago.

That wasn't the remarkable part. For her 95th birthday, her son gave her a ride on the back of his Harley. Riding a motorcycle at 95! I asked her if she wore a helmet. She did, and she also had to have the leather vest. After all, she said, you can't ride a Harley without the leather vest.

I could picture her on the back of Peter Fonda's bike. Born, and living to be wild! A true pleasure to meet her.

On the corner where the bus arrives lives a super nice couple. They don't make an issue of kids being in their yard, etc. Quite the opposite. Not long into this school year, a bench appeared at the very corner of their property solely for the purpose of making the wait a bit more comfortable for the group that waits for the bus.

A small gesture, but the kids think it's "one of the greatest things ever," and love having it there, as do the parents. Lucky for these kids that's who lives there--so often it's another story. People who treasure their grass more than people. Thank you so much folks!!

When I roused myself from half-sleep, I looked around the darkened, silent room, realized I had no idea what time it was, and were the eggs still cold?

Yep.

Now I was three-quarters awake, and tried to turn on the tv to see what was up. Black screen. Not good.

I was almost 100% awake, and realized, "okay, the electricity is out." I checked out the 'hood to see if there were any lights on in any of the other houses. Didn't look like it.

I picked up the phone, no dial tone, no nothing.

Do you realize how much we depend on electricity, taking it so for granted until it's not there? I did all the above things automatically with no thought. And it didn't register even after I tried maybe 3 or different light switches, each time having a momentary lapse that they weren't going to work. I forgot, even in the short distance from one room to the next.

Each time this happens, I alert to the realization that electricity is such a cool thing. And it's not until we don't have it for whatever reason that I have the light bulb go off in my head how much I appreciate electricity. We have faith that when we turn a switch, we're going to get the result we want. The light's going to go on, we can look at the clock and tell the actual time. The heat or air conditioning will run, we can watch TV or use the computer all because of it.

It was a few hours before we had electricity again, I saw Met Ed working on a pole down from our house, so they truly were "on it" really quickly. I looked at the white truck, and thought, "I am really grateful they're there," (plus that they know what they're doing.)

Something I take so for granted, a simple light switch. I guess I appreciate it most when it's not there. So glad that someone told Benjamin F to "go fly a kite!"

Anyway, I think for the upcoming year, let's set an actual date for the state budget to be passed. Aapparently the problem is that they just didn't KNOW that a deadline was coming up. So if we tell them ahead of time, I'm sure they'll hit the deadline. Easy enough, right?

And also, implement the old high school tactics. If they don't do their assignment, detention until it's finished. And they have to be there, without days off, etc until the assignment is done. No vacations, and oh yeah, pay would go into a holding account and only accessible when their assignment is finished.

All we have to do is TELL them when it needs to be done. I'm sure that'll do the trick for next year. I'm sure they just weren't aware. I realize that gaining notoriety for being the only state without a budget must seem like a cool thing, apparently, but listen, this is a good time to follow the crowd......

The health care question is now all solved, and insurance rates have plummeted. A hospital stay is actually affordable. Swine flu has gone the way of "when pigs fly."

All wars, any wars have been halted, they're going to solve the issues with video games. Winner takes all. Our troops will be taken out of harms way.

The global eco-system is now under control, and green is now the favorite color of more than just Kermit the frog. The honeybees are back in perfect balance, and butterflies are free.

How do I know all these great things?

It HAS to be so!! One of this week's lead TV morning news stories was the issue of Michelle Obama wearing shorts on vacation. Pundits everywhere have taken every different stance on this hot-button issue. Water coolers only offer hot water now, as discussions around them are so heated.

Are they technically Bermuda shorts, in which case, does this solidify our relationship with England, Bermuda being English and all? Or is the hemlength shorter or longer, having a completely different significance. How much of the First Leg was visible? What does temperature have to do with anything? This is the President's wife, for goodness sake, flying and deplaning from Air Force One!

Were any First varicose veins uncovered? Secret Service suddenly needed a code name for cellulite. shsh.

Talk about your LIFE SAVORS! When this is a top story, we have truly run out of things to be concerned bout.

If only.

Today, however, I decided to take a short break, and turned on Oprah which was a rerun, or I guess they like to call it "previously recorded" or other rhetoric that I forget right now. But that's not the point. Right as I turned it on, Oprah's teaser for the next segment talked about Hal Colston who graduated in the same 1971 class at York High as I did.

I had a vague recollection of what the show's segment was about, I believe from the newspaper, and couldn't wait to see it since I missed the first time.

There he was, the founder of something called the Good News Garage that makes cars available to people who simply can't afford the repairs on their present cars or their own car just dies. Many of his clients, he said are single mothers, who just need a helping hand.

There was a testimonial or two from people he had already helped, and a donation was made to the program. Talk about a kick to the "uplift zone!" Imagine the lives he has changed, and given hope where there might not have been any.

I remember Hal, or Harold as quiet, extremely intelligent, and seemed to have goals. In fact, he was one of the brightest in our class, and went onto use all those brains and talent to help other people. He didn't appear to be rolling in dough, just rolling in care for others.

He is just one big, fine, example of one who overcame all the turmoil in our school at that time, and went on to make a positive mark on the world. And let's face it, he got to meet Oprah, and she expressed her admiration of him. I'd say that's a pretty good day's work, and York can be exremely proud of someone whose roots started here, and grew into a fantastic plant.

At least, I thought I did. Until I witnessed her at work. I recently went to visit her at her work, Autumn House at Powder Mill, on a business matter.

When I got there, she was on the phone, so I quietly waited and checked out her office. When she hung up the phone, we started to talk about our families, and she was telling me about her son's schedule, when the phone rang again. She was immediately taken out of "mom" mode, spoke with detail and complete confidence about one of the patients. She ended the call, picked right back up about her son's busy schedule, exactly where she left off, when the phone rang again.

Again, she turned into Nurse Rebecca and handled precisely the problem at hand. She hung up, picked right back up on David's many involvments and overlappings in school activities etc. A nurse walked in with something that needed immediate attention.

Again, Rebecca handled it, and got back to our discussion, which then launched into the reason for my visit.

Rebecca always received high marks in school, and was always outstanding at what she attempted, getting two degrees in her career. I guess her fiends just took it for granted that she was smart--we just didn't know that she is so adept at being able to shift gears without missing a beat.

But then again, when I look at her, and we're talking, she turns into "Becky" and she has an infectious giggle and is tons of fun. She is never boring, and is always involved in something.

Went down again yesterday for a quick stop to talk to her, which never happened. On the phone when I got there, just as she waved hi, the phone rang again, and her voice was announced over the loudspeaker for another call. Then people I assumed were nurses kept filing into her office, all the while she was on the phone, handling some kind of emergency. I quietly exited the office, having to almost trip over all the people, and figured I'd talk to her later.

When you're used to seeing someone in a certain light, and then you get to see the "another" side of them, such as their professional side, it can be so amazing. Rebecca certainly impresses me, and I've know her for a looooonnng time, not near as long as I've know Becky however. But I feel blessed to know both personnas.

I personally met Tom for the first time when I worked at the courthouse, and parked in the garage across the street. I had had some kind of problem, I don't remember exactly what it was, I just remember that he personally took care of it right away. And that after that, he remembered my name, and would inquire how I was doing whenever I saw him at work, or around town. He did this with everyone, I'm sure too many to even count.

At one point, we realized that he also knew my brother. Back from the 60's, when he was a detective on York City police force. My brother had his Barracuda jacket stolen. (Remember Barracudas), He went down to the police station, and Tom happened to be the one who took the "case." My brother said he thought he knew who had taken the jacket, and when Detective Chatman asked how he knew this, Rick said, "because it doesn't fit him right." Chatman then asked my brother how he could be so sure, and asked what size my brother thought Tom was. Rick answered the question spot on, convincing the detective he knew what he was talking about.

Rick worked at Wiests mens department at that time, (Remember Wiests?) and the detective often bought clothing from him after that.

And then even 30 years later, Tom remembered him, and would always ask about him as well when he saw me.

Then when Tom worked as a tipstaff for Judge Uhler (also one of York's best), he always cut a sharp command of respect, fit for a courtroom. In the hallways, he had a wonderful, professional, yet extremely friendly demeanor. He was the perfect balance of personal and professional. We have truly lost and Officer and a Gentleman. We'll miss you.

Glad we did.

Mike, who is an owner of the shop whipped up a fantastic iced latte that looked just like the one in the picture on the wall. It was one of the best I've ever had.

Conversation with him was entertaining, and just fun. Turns out he had just had a nasty tete-a`tete with an airbag that left his face with some cuts and brushburns, and his recounting was pretty enlightening.

Beyond that, just about everyone that came in had some banter with him seasoning their coffee.

It was such a pleasure to be back in one of the best hangouts in York, conjoined with a whole building full of free reading. Come on, in just doesn't get any better than that!

I have to say it, it is time to move on and ABOVE those events. For those of us who were in York at that time, we understand a lot better what was going on than do young people who weren't even born yet, or people who didn't live in York at the time.

I really just want to say, can you please let the dead horse RIP.

The invisible dome over the city at that time, or the entire county, was not rational. It was fear and rumor that drove any kind of incidents. The actual catalysts that made the riots national news were fiction, overblown and the direct result of confusion. Outsiders happily escalated the fervor and encouraged anyone who'd follow. It wasn't the young men in our neighborhoods that went looking for trouble.

Every time I see an article recapping the events of those days, it is hard to swallow who was deemed heroes. I was not there on that infamous corner at that moment, but from accurate accounts from those who were, it just "ain't what it seemed." Why do we always hear so much more about this incident than the quiet dignity of the "other" seemingly less important even of a true hero killed trying to protect others? Has that family ever made headlines trying to collect money for his injustice all those years ago? Is he less important because he was just after all, doing his job? Over the weekend, I saw just a small memoriam put in by Officer Schaad's family commemorating the day he died, being an actual hero.

Each year, in celebration of my birthday, I can look forward to going backwards to that time. People pat themselves on the back for the "justice that was done 30 years later. Was it truly justice, or was there another agenda of some kind? Say, political?

Sure we can recall the bad times. There were several incidents, after football games for example, that we went through some terrifying experiences. They're permanently embedded in our memories. Truly horrifying experiences, where we students wondered if we were going to be able to actually get out of our school building when students came in andtook over. Blood in the hallways, such tension in the cafeteria that it was thicker than any of the food in front of us--we'd love to let go of those memories, but they kick up so often, it's easy to forget what else we did learn during those days. Then again, so, so, so many of York High graduates went on to do amazing things. Spotlight them!

The same thing keeps going over and over in my mind. What if there were a KKK meeting, or whoever those idiots were who met at the library several years ago, but what if there were a gathering and no one came, except a few diehards who haven't come into this century? What if the news coverage had been limited to 2 lines on the calendar of events page? What if they hadn't been given so much publicity?

There are great things going on in York. I don't want to keep getting stuck like there's a piece of gum on our shoes that won't let us move forward. Focus, focus, focus on the good things. The majority of Yorkers are fine people. Let's celebrate them. Let's celebrate the fact that in spite of those bad times, that we, the people, moved on.

I was in Dallas, Texas when the supposedly "fair trials" were going on here re the race riots. York was the laughingstock down there. The fact that Charlie Robertson was acquitted isn't what is remembered. It was the travesty of the whole thing.

Instead of patting ourselves on the back for delayed "justice," downplaying that period would be so much healthier than the frequent reopening of the scar. The "recognizing history so it's not destined to repeat itself theory" doesn't really apply here. What needs to take its place is accuracy, actuality and the desire to truly learn from it. And ask those who were there, in the middle of it, for the accuracy part of it.

But please, there's much more ahead than there is behind us. Let's address the here and now. We still have racism, there's no denying it. But why not downplay and give less fuel for that fire and instead focus on the crimes of the here and now. There are plenty to go around, and they need all our attention. Crime is crime, whether you're purple, green or orange.

I spent those few days literally being "one with the beach." I barely moved, and could only be differentiated from the seaweed, because my suit had some funky colors in it. Okay, maybe I wasn't quite that immobile, but pretty close. To me, there's nothing like the beach to restore, refresh, and all the other appropriate "r" words.

And speaking of pizza, (what, you didn't get the segue? You must not be a beachgoer. I'll fill you in.)

In Ocean City New Jersey, there is the best pizza in ther world. You got me, I haven't had pizza all over the world, but there's really no need to. Mack and Manco's IS pizza. They've been down at the beach forever and ever, or at least 40 years I think.

If you're looking for candlelight and soft music, you need to find another place. But if you're looking for savory, perfectly baked, unparalleled, perfectly blended pizza ingredients, all you need to look for is the noisy green and white parlors on the boardwalk, where it's always filled with handsome young lads, or if I were decades younger, they'd be hotties, tossing pizzas in the air in perfect symphony with life.

I don't know where they find all the personable guys to work there, but they're always in perfect sync and rythm as they dole out slices and whole pies. Since we don't get down to the shore as often as I'd like, which would be daily, sometimes it's almost an entire year before we make it to the green bar stools at Mack and Mancos.

That first bite, right up to say, the 30th bite, depending on how many slices I get, is pure bliss. It takes me back, turns me into a teenager again, then a young mother, treating my young'uns to the time of their pizza life.

I really, really like Mack and Mancos.

And now we've introduced another whole generation, our grandchildren, to the delights of Mack and Mancos. In fact, they don't call pizza, pizza anymore, they just refer to it as Mack and Mancos. And while other kids ask for all sorts of toys and "stuff" from the shore, our grandkids ask for Mack and Mancos.

It all started decades ago with my parents, That's a lot of pizza.

Now I'm sure there iS other pizza out there, and if you would like to tell me about it, I'm game to try. I'll give it a fair try, but it really, really better be GREAT pizza to get into the competition at all.

I'm putting all my dough on the great M & M!!!

Like so many others, I just wanted to help, so I set aside time yesterday to go in and do whatever was needed.

Therein lay the problem.

Because of certain people, there was LITTLE work to be done!!

Looters? Greedy imposters? Shortage of donations? Apathy?

York has its problems, but caring for our own doesn't seem to be one of them at this point.

The biggest problem yesterday, was that most of the work had been done so efficiently, and so quickly, that there was almost nothing to do yesterday. I'm sure there wil be another wave of need, but what a fantastic problem to have.

There were people like Bill who had been there since Monday, and was going strong yesterday, seeming to be whereever there was need. A beautiful 15-year old girl named Nashaya had been there 2 days already. Her grandmother knew some of the victims, so she'd been hustling around for those 2 days doing whatever needed to be done.

Janet Deardorf, arrived at the center on a cane, which obviously wasn't an excuse for her not to help. Nope, she disregarded the cane, and didn't seem to want to be treated any different because of it.

A woman named Brenda had been there for several days and was adept at popping up wherever someone needed something.

A group of teenaged boys with identifying t-shirts from a leadership development program zipped around when a call would come from one part of the room for some help.

And actually finding things could have been a huge problem, since donations were above and beyond what you would expect.

A whole room just for kids' clothes, piled high in bins separated by size and season. Kitchenware, towels, sheets, bedspreads, clothing, clothing, clothing everywhere, some still with tags dangling from them. Generosity was apparent.

Somehow over time, I hope we can replace the images in our minds of those horrible fires, with images of Yorkers pitching in and being on fire for helping our own. We can't make the fire unhappen, but we can do what we can to help as though it were our loved ones who can use the extra hands.

The Treehouse, iw what I personally think was one of their best marketing ideas EVER! While I'm an old mom now, how great it would have been when my kids were young to let them hang out there, while I went about my least favorite chore, grocery shopping.

If you're about my age, or even older, (gasp) and don't know about the concept, Treehouses are these wonderful supervised and secure little places within the Giant stores where while mom does the hard part, the kids get to go in there and play with allkinds of regular toys, computerized toys, and areas where they can even "shop" like mom or dad, (sorry, should have said that awhile back.) The shopping part was another great marketing idea, hear me Giant execs.

I personally met some of the staff as they have become friends with my daughter's family, and they were invited to my granddaughter' birthday party.

Now, "word on the street" is that they're going to close the majority of area Giant "Treehouses."

Here's just one reason you shouldn't. Back around Christmas, we were taking two of our grandchildren to the movies for a surprise. On the way there, they were trying to guess where we were going, and to "disappoint" them, I kidded about we're going to the grocery store, thinking that was one of the most boring things we could thing of. Instead, both of them yelled "Yea, we're going to the Treehouse!!"

Enuff said. Giant powers-that-be, there must be other ways to cut expenses, without cutting one of your best ideas and a haven for those who have to grocery shop. Cut us a break!!