Summertime officially here: Let's cherish it

With the first full day of summer passing over the weekend, what many of us had suspected for some time became official: Summertime has arrived.

I spend most of the winter pining for summer's arrival, yet when it's actually here, it always seems to go by in a flash. Summer is one of those many things in life that we all too often fail to appreciate while we are actually experiencing it.

So I thought it would be a good time to take a few minute to consider all the things I like so much about summer. Here's a few of my favorites:

— Swimming pools. I wouldn't call myself a huge swimmer, but there's not many feelings in the world better than diving into a cool swimming pool on a hot afternoon.

— Shorts. I'm not a fan of pants. Sure, I may have skinny, scrawny, lily-white legs, but I don't care. When I can get by with it, I wear shorts. It's so much more comfortable.

— The Fourth of July. There are some other pretty good holidays throughout the year, but none comes close to the warm feeling of national pride you get on the Fourth of July. There's nothing like an entire community gathering together to sit under a summer sky and watch fireworks.

— Lightning bugs. Used to fill jars with 'em as a kid. Now I help my kids do the same.

— Freshly-cut grass. If "warm and sunny" had a smell, this would be it.

— Barbecue. I have to admit, I wasn't a fan of barbecue until I moved to the South. The problem is, Northerners just don't know what the heck they're doing. I've come to understand that good, Memphis-style barbecue — ideally with a cold beverage — is one of the most satisfying meals you can eat.

— Cook-outs. Though often used synonymously with "barbecue," true fans of both know there's a difference. A cookout is simply the act preparing food and eating it outdoors. It's usually hot dogs or hamburgers (though I also occasionally enjoy a good brat — a relic of my days living up North), and it's something you just can't do in January.

— Baseball games. An essential part of summer, though the actual game is of little consequence. For me, it's simply about being there — the sights, the sounds, the smells. Put a cold beverage at my side, and I'm set.

— Mosquitoes. OK, so I'm not really that big of a fan of mosquitoes. But if I had to choose between scraping ice off my windshield or swatting a mosquito, I'll take the mosquito every day of the week. Besides that, I've always kind of liked the smell of bug spray.

— Stars. Sitting on my patio the other night, I noticed the thousands and thousands of stars in the sky. You rarely seem to notice stars in the winter.

— Vacations. Summer trips are a tradition in my family. As a kid, we went to places like Minnesota, South Dakota and Chicago. As an adult, I've taken the family to places like Disney World, St. Louis and Hot Springs. Even with gas prices in the stratosphere, there's always someplace you can go. Part of summer is about hitting the open road.

A little over a week from now, summer will reach it's zenith, with the Fourth of July celebration. And then, it will all begin to end.

It won't be long after the Fourth that retailers — in their constant zeal to turn a profit by hurrying along the next season — will start the dreaded rollout of their "back to school" lines. Shorts, swimsuits, flip-flops and sunscreen will make their way to the bargain racks, as jeans and long-sleeved shirts are given the prime retail space. The days will start getting shorter, and we will again realize how fleeting this glorious thing known as summer is.

So let's treasure the season while we still have it. Let's eat barbecue, and go swimming, and look at the stars and catch lightning bugs. Who cares if it's a little hot? Who cares if there's a few mosquitoes out?

Summer will be over before we know it. Let's embrace it while we can.

When your hometown is on the nightly news

When you work in the news business, it's not unusual for a story to come along that hits home.

But I never expected a story to hit home as literally as the recent news of the devastating floods that have ravaged Eastern Iowa for the last few days.

As many readers may know, I hail from Cedar Rapids, Iowa, which has been the epicenter of the recent floods. They say at least 24,000 residents were forced to evacuate, as more than a thousand city blocks flooded with water.

Across the country, people have watched the images out of Cedar Rapids with shock and awe. But those feelings of shock and awe have been amplified for me, for not only am I seeing sights of horrific flooding; I am seeing sights of horrific flooding in a place that I called home for more than 20 years.

When I see the images, I don't just see streets of water, or buildings that have become islands. I see places I've visited; places I know. I see the landmarks that make up the fabric of the place where I grew up, the place that will always be home.

Many may have seen the images of the Dairy Queen restaurant, with the water nearly to the roof. My sister once spent the summer working at that very Dairy Queen. I visited many times — the parking lot was the unofficial turn-around point of the local "cruising strip."

Others may have seen footage of the glitzy marquee of the historic Paramount Theater in downtown Cedar Rapids. I understand the water reached the bottom of the marquee, and the water line is still visible, even though the water has receded. That's the very same theater where I went with school groups to listen to the Cedar Rapids Symphony. In high school, I got to perform on the stage there with my show choir as part of the annual Dollars of Scholars fundraiser.

I've seen images of boats puttering around downtown, under the skywalks I strolled many times.

I've seen pictures of the boat houses from Ellis Park — I swore I would own one someday — slammed against a railroad bridge, after they came loose from their marina mooring.

And I know so many of my old haunts are heavily damaged or even destroyed — the A&W Drive-In where they used to serve root beer in frosty glass mugs; the Flamingo restaurant, where I devoured many spaghetti dinners with my family on Friday nights; The Time Check Recreation Center, where I trained for one of my first jobs, helping run a summer youth program.

I still have family and friends in the community, and many have asked if they're OK. Fortunately, everyone seems to be high and dry. But it's been close. My parents now live in a little town called Fairfax, a bedroom community just southwest of Cedar Rapids. They're miles from the flooded Cedar River, but the Prairie Creek is located only a few hundred yards through the woods behind their house.

The creek was already coming out of its banks when 6 inches of rain fell on the area last week. With the Cedar River overflowing, the creek had nowhere to drain into, so up it came. The water came within 3 feet of my parents' house before cresting at about 2 a.m. Friday. My dad had sandbagged the basement window in preparation, and my mom stayed up all night, watching the water's rise, preparing to evacuate if needed.

I thank all those who have expressed concern for my family, and have offered their thoughts and prayers for my loved ones. Luckily, it looks like they're going to be OK.

But there are thousands who will not. And so I would ask anyone who might be obliged to do so to continue sending thoughts and prayers to the people of Eastern Iowa. And anyone interested in helping in a more physical way should check out www.floodlist.com. There you will find information about the various needs of the communities and the local outreach organizations which are already hard at work.

The devastation wrought by the Flood of 2008 surpasses anything anyone who has lived in Cedar Rapids has ever dreamed of. Flood levels dwarf those of 1993, and one local leader rightfully referred to the disaster as "our Katrina." Indeed, it will take years for Cedar Rapids to recover. And even after the water recedes, the debris is removed, the horrible stench fades away and life gets back to normal, the community may never be the same.

Cedar Rapids will always be my hometown, but I fear the place I grew up may be lost forever.

NOTE: The music montage above was created by the YouTube user "semicrunchy"

Here's hoping for a McCain-Flanders ticket

Now that the two major political parties have finally settled on their candidates, it's time to sit back and watch the quadrennial reality show known as the "Veepstakes."

This is where political pundits in the news media spent countless hours speculating about who might get picked as running mates, even though nobody really knows anything — and even though recent history has proven that running mates have very little impact in the fall election.

Nonetheless, the gap between the end of the primaries and the national convention leaves a void of political news, and the media has to fill that void with something, so on with the Veepstakes we go.

And not wanting to be left out of this cacophony, I thought I'd throw my 2 cents in.

Basically, when picking a running mate, there's two different strategies to use. Either you pick someone who shores up your weaknesses; or you pick someone who strengthens your brand.

We'll start on the Republican side, with Sen. John McCain. One of McCain's weaknesses is that he's not particularly popular among the Christian right. To shore up this potential flaw, McCain should tab someone with impeccable religious credentials. And my suggestion here is Ned Flanders. Most well-known as Homer's next-door neighbor on "The Simpsons," Flanders is a flawless Christian, sure to help McCain lure religious voters. Besides that, as a widower, he might draw some sympathy votes.

But another weakness for McCain stems from geography. Though he is from Arizona, which — technically speaking — is further south than most states, he pretty much comes across as a Yankee. And that doesn't bode well for a Republican nominee who must carry the South in order to win the presidency. So McCain ought to look for the quintessential Southerner as his veep pick. And who could be better than one Harland Sanders, better known as "Col. Sanders" of KFC fame? With his white suits and finger-lickin' good ideas, this Southern gentleman would be the perfect counter-balance to McCain.

But perhaps McCain's best bet is to simply play to his strengths. McCain is seen widely as the "experienced war hero," and he would be well-served to pick a running mate who strengthens that brand. My suggestion: John Wayne. Wayne would bring a confident swagger to the GOP ticket, providing the true grit that would leave the Obama camp shaking in its boots.

When it comes to Barack Obama, the problems start with the name. It's non-traditional and unorthodox, and it has some Americans — mainly those who can't chew gum and think politics at the same time — convinced that he's a radical Muslim terrorist. So Obama should consider choosing someone who contrasts wildly from that image. The pick here: Pope Benedict XVI. Not only is the Pope clearly not a radical Muslim terrorist, but he could also bring in the Catholic vote.

But the other big problem with Obama is that he comes across as a intellectual elitist. So he ought to pick an "everyman" as his running mate, someone whom ordinary Americans can relate to. Someone like Homer Simpson. (I would love to see a veep debate pitting Homer against Ned Flanders.)

But like McCain, Obama's best strategy might be to accentuate his strengths. Obama is seen as the candidate who is new, young, fresh, exciting and full of new ideas. That's why perhaps the best running mate for Obama would be an MP3 player. Like Obama, an MP3 player is new, young, fresh, exciting and full of new ideas. Sure, nobody knows for sure how it works, but nobody knows for sure what Obama stands for either, so it's a perfect pairing. All that matters is they're both cool.

It's a shame that the candidates will spend so much money on high-priced consultants for the vetting of potential running mates. And it's too bad that the media will spend so much time engaged in rampant speculation. Because it's pretty obvious that when it come to picking veep candidates, all the best ideas are right here in this column.

How far will you walk to get to a trash can?

When planners set out to build Disney World and its theme parks in Florida, there's a story about the thought that went into the trash cans. According to the tale, a conscious decision was made to put a trash can every 25 steps.

The idea, at least according to legend, is that the company studied the number of steps any given person would carry a piece of trash before simply chucking it on the ground. And the magic number turned out to be 25 steps. That's why today, if you visit any of the Florida theme parks, you will see no shortage of trash cans. And perhaps it's one reason why the parks are almost always impeccably clean.

I thought about that last Sunday when I was sitting in Walker Park, watching my 5-year-old son, Drew, play at one of the playground areas. Sadly to say, the area was far from impeccable.

And as I sat on the bench, taking in the array of trash on the ground around me, it dawned on me that there weren't a whole lot of trash cans to be found. In fact, in the proximity of the playground, the only trash can in sight was located on the opposite side of the playground, far from any bench. If Disney's research is anything to believe, it's no wonder the area was full of litter. There was scarcely a trash can within 50 steps, let alone within the magic number of 25.

Of course, there's no doubt that it's a deplorable act of disrespect to nature and fellow citizens alike to throw trash on the ground. Yet it's human nature to take the easiest way out, and city managers need to think about such matters when designing parks and public places of all kinds.

Nobody would realistically expect the City of Blytheville to match the resources of Disney World. But now that the city has a new parks and recreation tax on the books, it's my hope that maybe we can meet the litterbugs half-way. Perhaps it's time to put a little more thought into the number and placement of trash cans throughout our parks. For that matter, they probably need to be emptied a little more often while we're at it. (Most of the trash cans Sunday afternoon were nearly overflowing.)

The bottom line is that we can't expect citizens to respect our parks unless we first show an unwavering commitment to making our parks something worth respecting.

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Speaking of Walker Park, that will be the site of two major events this weekend, both dedicated to raising money for the same cause: fighting cancer.

First up will be the annual Relay for Life, Friday night. This event has become one of the neatest gatherings/festivals our community has to offer. If you've never attended, make sure to head out Friday evening, and check out the hundreds of luminarias purchased in memory of, or in honor of, loved ones. And don't miss the Survivors' Lap, something that always leaves me with a lump in my throat.

Then, come Saturday, is the Cars and Cycles Against Cancer car show. Entries are expected from across the country. It's a great chance to get out, see some classic cars and motorcycles, grab a bite to eat and enjoy a great day in our community.

Just remember to put your garbage in the trash can. Even if it means walking more than 25 steps.