60 http://www.mchron.net/ee/radio en-us Copyright 2008 Chaney, Collins, Lidinsky, Nashel, Nixa, Smith, and Taylor Six writers from northern Indiana write about their lives By the Chronicles team Work, pop culture, daily life in the region around South Bend, Indiana -- the Edward R. Murrow award-winning public radio series from WVPE. K. Smith et al ksmith@iusb.edu no Ken Smith Little children love the wacky jingle-jangle of poetry; in concentration camps, when brutal guards aren’t watching, gaunt survivors eke out lines of poetry; new lovers can barely keep themselves from writing poems, maybe for the first time in their lives. Little children love the wacky jingle-jangle of poetry; in concentration camps, when brutal guards aren’t watching, gaunt survivors eke out lines of poetry; new lovers can barely keep themselves from writing poems, maybe for the first time in their lives. http://http://mypage.iusb.edu/~ksmith/time_to_write_a_poem Fri, 19 Apr 2013 23:48:00 -05:00 family, friends April Lidinsky First, a good story: A friend in Indianapolis reported riding the elevator with a couple of young guys who work at a hip, techy start-up in her building. She caught them in mid-conversation, and one said, in the manner of psyching himself up, “I’m gonna tell the boss today that I am not gonna travel so much. I have a baby!” The other guy nodded, sagely, “Yeah, dude, you got a baby!” Now, that is progress – not, “My spouse had a baby,” but “I have one, and I will help change workplaces for families.” First, a good story: A friend in Indianapolis reported riding the elevator with a couple of young guys who work at a hip, techy start-up in her building. She caught them in mid-conversation, and one said, in the manner of psyching himself up, “I’m gonna tell the boss today that I am not gonna travel so much. I have a baby!” The other guy nodded, sagely, “Yeah, dude, you got a baby!” Now, that is progress – not, “My spouse had a baby,” but “I have one, and I will help change workplaces for families.” http://http://mypage.iusb.edu/~ksmith/whos_a_man Sat, 13 Apr 2013 00:46:01 -05:00 family, friends April Lidinsky The best advertisement for massage therapy was not so much my oiled and languid body at the end of the session, but the therapist herself, whose beatific aura was enviable, even though she’d been doing all the work. As we all suspected, sharing the load makes everyone feel good. The best advertisement for massage therapy was not so much my oiled and languid body at the end of the session, but the therapist herself, whose beatific aura was enviable, even though she’d been doing all the work. As we all suspected, sharing the load makes everyone feel good. http://http://mypage.iusb.edu/~ksmith/touch_me_baby Fri, 22 Feb 2013 17:13:00 -05:00 family, friends Ken Smith We were fairly good kids, I suppose, more or less, but the country had gone UFO crazy and that brought out the crazy in us too. In government labs out west, there either were or were not alien bodies floating in formaldehyde. Silvery saucers darted across American skies and bony, big-eyed faces in the windows scanned our puny human accomplishments down below, or they didn’t. But one thing was certain: our fellow citizens fretted about it on the news and, even better, screamed and ran arms flailing through the streets fleeing for their lives on Saturdays in the TV movies. We were a nation that could really throw itself into hysteria, and my neighbor Jack and I thought this was great. We wanted a piece of that action. With the help of a dime store helium balloon we planned to be the first ten-year-old boys in America to drive their hometown into UFO terror. We were fairly good kids, I suppose, more or less, but the country had gone UFO crazy and that brought out the crazy in us too. In government labs out west, there either were or were not alien bodies floating in formaldehyde. Silvery saucers darted across American skies and bony, big-eyed faces in the windows scanned our puny human accomplishments down below, or they didn’t. But one thing was certain: our fellow citizens fretted about it on the news and, even better, screamed and ran arms flailing through the streets fleeing for their lives on Saturdays in the TV movies. We were a nation that could really throw itself into hysteria, and my neighbor Jack and I thought this was great. We wanted a piece of that action. With the help of a dime store helium balloon we planned to be the first ten-year-old boys in America to drive their hometown into UFO terror. http://http://mypage.iusb.edu/~ksmith/our_very_own_ufo Sat, 27 Oct 2012 00:49:00 -05:00 family, friends David James I’m a sucker for . . . space. Not closet space, not personal space, outer space. Pitch-black dome awash with stars. Boiling suns, pock-marked moonscapes, astronauts lightly tethered and floating outside Erector-set homes. Outer space. Every day I check the NASA website and the newest pictures from Mars. I love the idea that Earth’s people are reaching out, exploring the solar system and beyond. I’m a sucker for . . . space. Not closet space, not personal space, outer space. Pitch-black dome awash with stars. Boiling suns, pock-marked moonscapes, astronauts lightly tethered and floating outside Erector-set homes. Outer space. Every day I check the NASA website and the newest pictures from Mars. I love the idea that Earth’s people are reaching out, exploring the solar system and beyond. http://http://mypage.iusb.edu/~ksmith/a_sucker_for_space Fri, 24 Aug 2012 22:18:00 -05:00 family, friends Ken Smith The scene was a classroom in an old brick Catholic boys school. At the podium, Father D., dressed in black, his white wavy hair combed straight back, introducing the final section of “Macbeth.” Women scream somewhere in the castle; Lady Macbeth, no longer able to stomach her own corruption, has taken her life. A messenger tells Macbeth the news. Having "supp'd full" of his own horrors, he can hardly attend to his wife's death. His words are heart-rending and hopeless. The scene was a classroom in an old brick Catholic boys school. At the podium, Father D., dressed in black, his white wavy hair combed straight back, introducing the final section of “Macbeth.” Women scream somewhere in the castle; Lady Macbeth, no longer able to stomach her own corruption, has taken her life. A messenger tells Macbeth the news. Having "supp'd full" of his own horrors, he can hardly attend to his wife's death. His words are heart-rending and hopeless. http://http://mypage.iusb.edu/~ksmith/memorizing_shakespeare Fri, 3 Feb 2012 19:56:00 -05:00 family, friends Ken Smith It actually was the night before Christmas and the two boys were running out of both time and money. With just a few dollars in their pockets, they walked the length of the shopping center, looking into any number of stores, but they couldn’t find a present for their grandmother. They had never imagined that they might fail. After all, on the morning after Thanksgiving Santa’s helicopter landed in the parking lot of this shopping center to start the holiday season. Elvis Presley’s Rolls Royce had been displayed there, with 16 coats of gold paint flecked with real gold and leather seats in the back and a little bar you could see from the other side of the velvet rope. This shopping center had everything. Surely there was a present for their grandmother. It actually was the night before Christmas and the two boys were running out of both time and money. With just a few dollars in their pockets, they walked the length of the shopping center, looking into any number of stores, but they couldn’t find a present for their grandmother. They had never imagined that they might fail. After all, on the morning after Thanksgiving Santa’s helicopter landed in the parking lot of this shopping center to start the holiday season. Elvis Presley’s Rolls Royce had been displayed there, with 16 coats of gold paint flecked with real gold and leather seats in the back and a little bar you could see from the other side of the velvet rope. This shopping center had everything. Surely there was a present for their grandmother. http://http://mypage.iusb.edu/~ksmith/a_christmas_gift Fri, 23 Dec 2011 08:27:00 -05:00 family, friends April Lidinsky It may not be seasonably appropriate, but I cannot get that Pepper Spray Cop out of my mind. What is it about that stolid guy that stuck so fast in the public imagination? Was it his Kevlar-cool, his flat-line affect, as he methodically shook the mixing marble in his pepper can and strolled down the row of earnestly Occupying college students, training the toxic spray right in their faces at a distance we reserve for loved ones and dental hygienists? That juxtaposition – the intimate proximity and neutral brutality, the arm stretched out not to touch but to maim – will stand for many of us a low mark on the barometer of compassion. I have my book-slam ugly moments, sure, but I’d never unhook from humanity enough to do that. It may not be seasonably appropriate, but I cannot get that Pepper Spray Cop out of my mind. What is it about that stolid guy that stuck so fast in the public imagination? Was it his Kevlar-cool, his flat-line affect, as he methodically shook the mixing marble in his pepper can and strolled down the row of earnestly Occupying college students, training the toxic spray right in their faces at a distance we reserve for loved ones and dental hygienists? That juxtaposition – the intimate proximity and neutral brutality, the arm stretched out not to touch but to maim – will stand for many of us a low mark on the barometer of compassion. I have my book-slam ugly moments, sure, but I’d never unhook from humanity enough to do that. http://http://mypage.iusb.edu/~ksmith/outsiders_in Fri, 9 Dec 2011 10:52:00 -05:00 family, friends Joe Chaney Is it better to be useful or useless? I can’t decide, and that’s a problem. I have the age-old drive to “do something” with my life. I feel compelled to be practical, to pursue realistic goals, and to turn my skills toward earning money or helping people. Those goals allow me to justify my existence. But I also feel the strong tug of uselessness. I enjoy creating for no purpose and thinking for its own sake. I could be a happy lay-about. But always that other drive to please people, to fill my resume, to prove my worth, to show my team spirit – that residual sociability keeps me from wandering away entirely. Is it better to be useful or useless? I can’t decide, and that’s a problem. I have the age-old drive to “do something” with my life. I feel compelled to be practical, to pursue realistic goals, and to turn my skills toward earning money or helping people. Those goals allow me to justify my existence. But I also feel the strong tug of uselessness. I enjoy creating for no purpose and thinking for its own sake. I could be a happy lay-about. But always that other drive to please people, to fill my resume, to prove my worth, to show my team spirit – that residual sociability keeps me from wandering away entirely. http://http://mypage.iusb.edu/~ksmith/useful_to_be_useless Fri, 25 Nov 2011 09:28:00 -05:00 family, friends Jeanette Saddler Taylor Reflections on the topic of food, brought about, no doubt, by this time of harvest and Thanksgiving, led to my reading Thomas Keneally’s recent book, “Three Famines.” In it, he gives a general overview of the physical and mental processes of starvation – pretty horrifying and unimaginable from where we sit – then writes specifically about the three hunger-events. Ireland in the 1840’s, Bengal in the 1940’s and Ethiopia in the 1980’s are the “three famines” of the title. Although seemingly unrelated as to world-area and time period, there is a striking commonality and it’s not the traditional “act-of-God” explanation. “Acts of God:” droughts, floods, etc. often begin the privations, but the human hand exacerbates the problems into a cataclysm. Reflections on the topic of food, brought about, no doubt, by this time of harvest and Thanksgiving, led to my reading Thomas Keneally’s recent book, “Three Famines.” In it, he gives a general overview of the physical and mental processes of starvation – pretty horrifying and unimaginable from where we sit – then writes specifically about the three hunger-events. Ireland in the 1840’s, Bengal in the 1940’s and Ethiopia in the 1980’s are the “three famines” of the title. Although seemingly unrelated as to world-area and time period, there is a striking commonality and it’s not the traditional “act-of-God” explanation. “Acts of God:” droughts, floods, etc. often begin the privations, but the human hand exacerbates the problems into a cataclysm. http://http://mypage.iusb.edu/~ksmith/good_eaters Fri, 18 Nov 2011 21:34:01 -05:00 family, friends Ken Smith Consider cross country, the sport of choice for our family’s young athlete. That’s a 5000 meter feat of speed and endurance. At practice each day the teams run even farther, so on Saturdays they’re ready to race each other hard for 20 or 25 minutes. Near the end of the course they speed up because that’s the kind of people they have become, and they don’t stop until they have travelled the length of 54 football fields. Consider cross country, the sport of choice for our family’s young athlete. That’s a 5000 meter feat of speed and endurance. At practice each day the teams run even farther, so on Saturdays they’re ready to race each other hard for 20 or 25 minutes. Near the end of the course they speed up because that’s the kind of people they have become, and they don’t stop until they have travelled the length of 54 football fields. http://http://mypage.iusb.edu/~ksmith/the_excellence_of_the_long_distance_runner Fri, 11 Nov 2011 11:06:00 -05:00 family, friends Heather Curlee Novak Do you have a daily list? I don’t mean tasks for work or chores for home, I mean a Happy List. I have a Happy List running through my head most of the time. This list tends to be fickle and definitely changes with my mood. It is rare that something gets crossed off of it but I get immense satisfaction from my list just the same. My list makes friends laugh and strangers think I am...stranger. Do you have a daily list? I don’t mean tasks for work or chores for home, I mean a Happy List. I have a Happy List running through my head most of the time. This list tends to be fickle and definitely changes with my mood. It is rare that something gets crossed off of it but I get immense satisfaction from my list just the same. My list makes friends laugh and strangers think I am...stranger. http://http://mypage.iusb.edu/~ksmith/bacon_before_husband Fri, 4 Nov 2011 21:43:00 -05:00 family, friends