And the winner is....

My boy Blake didn't win American Idol but his career as a singer and entertainer is launched. After a two hour marathon of songs and commercials Ryan Seacrest announced the winner. Jordin Sparks, a long legged, dark eyed beauty from Arizona was officially named American Idol for 2007. Blake was a gracious "loser" but we haven't seen the last of him. The American Idol phenomenon has jump started lots of careers in a field where it's tough to get a break. I expect he'll have a CD on the market before the end of the year and I'll be there to buy it.

The good life

I've been retired since July 17, 2006 and my life is a whirlwind. It took me a little while to get the hang of it but I've discovered the secret to adapting to freedom. Leisure time isn't leisurely. This might be an arguable point to an average working stiff so I'll explain what I mean.

I'm the half of the couple who lives without time constraints so any errands or mundane chores are mine. Going to the post office, making beds, errands to the court house or marina, they fall to me. I regularly go to Benton to visit Mom and Dad, and there's my volunteer work at Garvan Woodland Gardens. Between these duties I must squeeze in reading novels, working crossword puzzles, trying out new crochet patterns, and discussing world events or literature with Buddy over an Amber Bock. All of the above activities are done on my porch with its incredible view of the lake. Now that it's summer I have the added responsibility of riding my Sea-Doo around the lake, checking out the new construction and exploring coves and inlets.

What's my point? No one's life is ideal but right now, in this moment in time, mine is pretty darn close to it. I don't take these blessings for granted. My parents are alive and lively; a joy to visit with and a weekly highlight for me. The beautiful gardens give me a sense of usefullness and a like minded group of people to interact with on a regular basis. Novels and crossword puzzles were guilty pleasures to be indulged in when the work was done. The same thing with crocheting. Now I can do any or all of them whenever I feel like it. Living close enough to my big brother to share a beer and regularly enjoy one another's company is worth more than I can express.

Over the years Debbie and I discussed and dreamed of the life we have now. We hadn't figured on cancer being our catalyst but it has been. I guess I can call cancer a backwards blessing. If I hadn't gotten sick we might still be slogging through a daily grind, losing sight of what matters. Cancer forced us to assess our priorities and make major life changing decisions. I never expected boats, docks, marinas, windy conditions, and Bass Pro Shop to figure so prominently in our daily lives. We are lucky women and we know it.

Conspiracy theory

During fits of paranoia, I'm convinced that there is a cure for cancer but for reasons known only to it, our government is withholding the information. Think about it, cancer is big business for insurance companies, hospitals, and countless merchandising enterprises. Without breast cancer, how would they unload all those pink ballcaps? Cancer kills enough people every year to make it an effective population decreaser. And its targets are random. We're all affected. No one group can cry foul because cancer is an equal opportunity agent.

I figure insurance companies have the most to lose if cancer becomes curable. I pay over $500.00 a month for health insurance and then have to fight with them about what is covered at any given time. I've been working on getting a PET scan payed for since March 2006. Dollar value? $3,633.00 Peace of mind? Priceless to me, so if I have to pay it, I will.

PET stands for positive emission tomography and it is a nuclear medicine medical imaging technique that produces a three dimensional image or map of functional processes in the body. It detects changes within certain tissues or organs early, often before disease progresses and is important in determining neurological conditions, heart disease, and the spread of cancer. How about that for an idea?!

In a sane world insurance companies would require these scans. I think, in the long run, they'd save money and lives. In the last 11 years I have cost Blue Cross thousands of dollars but I have paid their premium every month since I was 23 years old. That's 33 years and I'm just one person! Do the math. They're still ahead.

Plugged up

My brother, David, teaches 7th grade social studies and wears a flash drive on a lanyard around his neck. His teenage sons can expect to be relieved of cellphones or Ipods or the Internet for punishment. His students present their class projects in Power Point. This is more the norm than the exception in our society today. We're electronic junkies.

David's son, Ryan, is my go to guy for computer maintenance. He troubleshoots, diagnoses, and repairs for me. He can build a new computer from pieces of old ones. While his talent intrigues our family, he isn't that unique in today's high school. By the time I retired from public education in 2002, teachers were scouting the junior high school for the kids who would take care of them electronically when they advanced to high school.

In the early days these guys were equivalent to the boys in the audio-visual club. They were usually shy with a tendency toward obnoxious. What they lacked in people skills they made up for with their understanding of DOS, that old, unwieldy, operating system we used before Windows. As our technology advanced in sophistication, so did our backward geek. Knowledge is power. They had it, we adults didn't. I figure it was the same thing when cars replaced horses and buggies. The young guys, eager for the speed and convenience, got on board while the old ones stood back, bewildered but fascinated.

The computer geek stereotype is evolving at a rapid pace. In less than 20 years they've moved from the backroom of the school library to the mainstream of American education. If we're lucky these kids will grow up and take over our classrooms. When that happens the power paradigm will shift. I depended on students to teach me, to pull me into the electronic age. They had what I needed and I shamelessly took advantage of their expertise. I learned almost everything I know about the Internet from teenagers. Without them I wouldn't be able to do this.

Who will be the next American Idol?

My name is Barbara and I watch American Idol. I denied it for awhile. It seemed like such a cliche. America watches, and all that. I resisted season after season, then Jennifer Hudson happened. Maybe I should see for myself instead of turning my nose up at the hype and publicity. After all, I liked Ted Mack's Amateur Hour when I was a little kid. Maybe American Idol is a reinvention of that.

I survived the horrible weeks of culling through thousands of America's untalented and disillusioned singers. My horror came, not from cruel comments by the infamous Simon Cowell, but from parents and loved ones who allowed their children to set themselves up for public humiliation on national television. To quote Dr. Phil, "What were they thinking?"

All of that is behind us now and we're almost to the finish line. Last night two singers were voted off and now there are four. Of course, I was voting like mad to save my personal favorite, a young man named Blake who probably annoyed and charmed every teacher he ever had. America agreed with me and he'll advance to next week's show. So far, Blake has been able to do everything they've thrown at him, from Tony Bennett to Bon Jovi. Not only can he sing the songs, he can make them his own. Okay, I'm starstruck. He has a style that really appeals to me.

What is clear to me is that Simon Cowell's critique is the only one the contestants take seriously. They listen politely to Randy and Paula, then turn their bodies toward Simon for the coup d'grace. It's human nature. Which teacher made the biggest impression on you? Which friend do you go to when you REALLY need to hear the truth? That's right. We instinctively gravitate to the person who holds us to the highest standard, even if it's painful. Simon Cowell isn't mean, he's brutally honest. When he says you nailed the song, you nailed it! Those kids reach higher and farther every week. I feel like I'm witnessing evolution. In the beginning these last six had potential but no polish or confidence. The heavy ones have lost weight, the bad outfits have been replaced with style, bad hair has been styled to flatter their faces. It won't matter who actually wins. They've all got star quality and with the exposure they've had and the contacts they've made, they'll be launched into the entertainment arena. It's fun to watch dreams come true so I'll be in front of my TV on Tuesday evenings until we know "who will be be the next American Idol!"

Just a swingin'

I believe that children must be encouraged to play and use their imaginations if they are to become well adjusted adults. Mom and Dad didn't entertain us. They played with us when the setting called for it but we were expected to entertain ourselves.

We spent hours outside, imagining the picnic table was a fort, or a boat, or a life raft floating in shark infested waters. Mom would throw a quilt over the clothesline to make us a tent. We played in the sandbox and we watched the student pilots fly in and out of the air college that butted up to our yard. And I had a swing set! I wanted one desperately. I think Mom and Dad had to charge it at Sears but they did what they had to because I wanted it so badly. Daddy and Buddy erected it and set the legs in concrete to keep it from turning over. It was a basic set with two swings and and a seesaw and it was perfect. Buddy taught me how to pump my legs so I could swing myself and I flew for hours. I could sing and think and contemplate the wonders of my little universe. I don't think I'd started school yet when I got it, but I was heartbroken when I had to leave it behind when we moved to Arkansas years later.

The clouds entertained me for hours. I watched them move and change shape. If I stretched my legs straight out and pointed my toes I could even touch them. Ricky Nelson had a popular song on the radio called "Travelin' Man" and I'd learned all the words. It was about a guy who traveled the world and had a different woman in every port. It caught my imagination and it became my swinging song. I sang it constantly.

As I got older I found other uses for my swing set. The cross bar on the legs was a great perch. I climbed up and down on that bar like a gymnast. I learned to hang upside down and turn flips. I loved the topsy turvy perspective hanging upside down gave me. Everything familiar was different from that angle. Maybe that's why I can't look at a problem from only one direction or accept a pat answer.

I'm still a sucker for swings. To me they represent all things positive.