Friday Tidings

There’s something about the Olympics. Maybe it’s the herculean effort to qualify. Maybe it’s four years of anticipation. Maybe it’s the record-setting pace and the nail-biting races. For me, it’s those heart-gripping video productions chronicling the life of the athlete, with parent and coach interviews about the many triumphs and trials—powerfully inspiring minutes leading up to what is expected to be a gold winning performance. For the athletes, it’s way more than a sporting event; this has been a lifelong commitment. They may not get the gold medal, but they’re living a gold medal life. First place: Yasmine nearing the 100-meter finish line Washington State School of the Blind Track Meet Recently I read about a young athlete who is not Olympic bound, yet she runs like she is. Six-year-old Yasmine Littleraven captivated me with her smile even before I realized she couldn’t see. But her vision impairment is not her handicap; it seems to be her motivation.Yasmine

No doubt it was my most embarrassing stunt. Thankfully it was before the Internet, YouTube, or Facebook. Just a few people remember, and only my husband, the dutiful historian, recorded it.  I was Laser Queen. There. I admit it. Perhaps now I can bring some “closure” to this chapter in my story. As musicians, banking on success in the music industry, Thom and I had been faithful to our dream. While we were young and poor, we tried breaking into the exclusive Top 40 music world controlled by a few Los Angeles executives. After we had exhausted our options, we tried farming instead. Crazy kids we were. Never really giving up, we recorded tacky little jingles for local radio stations in a converted music studio in our trailer home. True musicians know that the dream doesn't end. After a long day in the fields, we’d practice our old songs, and occasionally write a new one.  But our music didn’t fit the trend. This was the early-eighties. Think disco. However, t

Sometimes a good book is the perfect escape. Little did I know my escape would transport me to a place I'd never been and when I left it, would keep part of my heart.  Rare Earth travels across the globe to places in Africa, where humanity is packed into refugee camps and wretched slums. But I promise, this book won’t leave you feeling hopeless. In fact, you will sense something far greater at work. Davis Bunn’s Rare Earth smacks of a nail-biting Tom Clancy novel with Clive Cussler heart-gripping action. Bunn focuses on the gritty issues facing Kenya: drought, starvation, even a volcanic eruption. But even worse are the deplorable conditions for the uprooted tribes due to land grabs from a greedy, deplorable underworld. Nothing detracts Marc Royce from his mission to find the answers to who is behind the atrocities affecting thousands of innocent people. And part of the answer is hidden in the lucrative riches of the African soil.  Rare Earth takes you inside the hear

It was the summer of 1974 and it was unbearably hot at the debate camp I was attending. The “camp” directors made certain we knew we’d not have fun; it was going to be the hardest two weeks of school we’d ever had. The staff prided themselves on crafting polished public speakers, capable of eloquent, effective and winning presentations. Losers need not attend. Our debate topic: the American welfare system. Should it be abolished?  Morning lectures covered the policies and in the the afternoon they drilled us on the pros and cons. Without air conditioning in the classrooms, the heat was oppressive. Taking copious notes, I wondered how our government could continue to be so wasteful. The evenings were spent frolicking around the city, going to movies and partying in the dorms. Wrong. We were in the library framing our arguments. We’d now been divided in half. I was on the team debating to abolish the system. This was the most challenging position because while we could po