Trouble at...the Library?

The latest on an ever-growing list of "issues" facing our ever-growing town is that of teachers tutoring students in the public library. Apparently, there have been some complaints of the noise level and the lack of table seating/space available during the day. So now that complaints have been made, the library has chosen to enforce a policy it already had in place, one that states patrons cannot use the public library as a way to make a monetary profit.

This situation immediately brings to mind two questions: Is this an issue of noise and space, or one of individuals conducting business in a public place? And, if there is a policy already in place, why has it been overlooked and ignored, but now becomes worth enforcing?

If this is an issue of noise and space, it could be easily remedied by something as simple as restricting tutoring time to certain hours. Perhaps even limit the space made available to the tutors and students. Of course there would be details of how to figure out who gets time and when, but that sort of thing could be negotiated after putting such a policy in place.

If this is an issue about individuals making a profit in a public building, then it really isn't about the noise and space at all, and let's just call it what it is. I mean, if these tutors provided their services for free, would that change the noise levels and amount of space they take up? Nope. So suddenly enforcing a policy that prohibits individuals from profiting from work in a public building doesn't make sense in this case, unless the problem is the money-making aspect.

If it is, then I ask--what the hell's wrong with people? Sure, these tutors are making money. But I'll bet no one's getting rich off of it, nor is that their goal. Despite having serious doubts about the intentions and integrity of some people who sit on boards in this town, I hold onto the belief that the teachers who choose to tutor in the summer do so because they know there are a lot of children who need the extra attention and help. There's no crime in being paid for their time; don't we all believe our time is valuable? It isn't as if we've got insurance salesmen lurking about the stacks, just waiting to pounce on the next unsuspecting patron as she browses for a romance novel. I can't recall ever having seen a hooker, ambulance chaser--or anyone else who makes his living preying on people--at the library, at least, not while they were on the clock. These are teachers, teaching kids who need taught, in the most logical location for their purpose.

Libraries across America allow tutoring to take place on the premises. Yes, I know these libraries probably have more money, more space, more everything necessary to make the tutoring as least invasive of other patrons' visits as possible. But this is Windsor. We are no longer a small town, and we need to stop acting like we are. Looking the other way when a policy is broken is not a good idea, no matter what the policy is, no matter if we know the people who are in violation of it. If an organization is going to take time to develop rules, it ought to adhere to them or get rid of them.

But let's stop confusing the issues here. A patron (possibly more...I don't know) complained about noise and lack of table space. The policy that was suddenly enforced was one based on the aspect of making money, not on how noisy certain patrons were. Had the tutors and students kept the noise level down, the library would still be allowing them to violate the policy. That wouldn't be right. On the other hand, if the teachers were giving their services away instead of demanding monetary compensation, they wouldn't be breaking any private business policy. So would they still be allowed to tutor in the library, perhaps with a warning that they need to be more quiet? That wouldn't be right either; these professionals deserve to be paid for their services.

And while it's easy to say "let them teach in their homes," that's just not the ideal situation. Aside from any personal reasons that might interfere with tutoring at home, the fact remains that teachers aren't paid a salary that allows them to build a home reference library that includes the resources readily available in a public library.

My first job as a teen was in a public library just slightly bigger than the one in Windsor. Even then, in the early 1980s, the library was not a place of silence. When I was working, I'd see various groups of kids from school who'd come there to study and complete homework. And they were loud. When I needed to research, I headed to the library. We didn't have computers and the Internet then; all our research came from books, magazines, and microfilm. Sigh... I'm old. Anyway, even then, the library was a lively place. That it still is, is not something to complain about. And yet I understand that some patrons want (need?) a modicum of tranquility to get from their library what they need.

The library board says it wants to work with these teachers, and I believe them. By "work" I hope they mean listen to the tutors and take into consideration who they are what they're trying to do. I hope they deal with the issue head-on, looking at it for what it is, and not try to force a solution from a one-size-is-supposed-to-fit-all policy that probably was never a great idea to begin with. Kids have always needed libraries, and libraries have always put out the clarion call to kids. That much hasn't changed.

And I hope it never does.

Are You a Toxic Parent?

I read a great article in the Washington Post this weekend. Should be required reading for every parent. I tried to provide you with the link, but it's too long. Just go to www.washingtonpost.com and check out the front page; it's probably still there. If not, do a keyword search of "toxic parent."

The article is long, but worth the time spent reading it.

This blog's policy on anonymous comments


Someone's been leaving me anonymous comments that I have rejected. My doing this is driving him crazy, because he keeps leaving more, almost daily. I say "he" because I'm 99.9% sure I know who's leaving them. Based on the context of his comments, he knows journalism and he knows about my 3 years at the Trib...information only an insider would know (unless he's writing on hearsay, which he wouldn't dare, since he accused me of doing that). He also wants to know if I know what editors do (he helped me out there, just in case: They edit.), and in fact, I do! When I'm not writing for a living, I'm editing. Or indexing. Or doing taxonomy (not to be confused with taxidermy, which is just, well, yuck). See the pattern...words. I work with words.

This particular reader so very obviously doesn't like me, yet he's taking time out of his life to read my blog. Often. Only he doesn't seem to read anything except the very first column, waaaaaaaaaaay at the bottom of the blog...the one about why I left the Trib and the Beacon. And he's getting madder because I won't give him a voice here in my own personal space. So I figure it's time to let ya know where I stand on anonymous comments:

I've got no problem with them (there are many here on the blog already, and not all are positive) as long as they discuss issues and related topics and are not personal attacks. The guy who's leaving these snarky comments needs to get over whatever it is he's so angry about and stop visiting The Front Porch because it obviously raises his blood pressure. Life's too short to focus on all that negative energy.

Intelligent discussion of a topic is one thing; I welcome that with open arms or I'd never have started writing my column in 2003. I'd be an idiot to think everyone agrees with all the things I say...that's not the point (and where's the value in that?). The point is to find a maturity level where we can disagree, discuss, and agree to disagree if we must. When that happens, everyone, including myself, walks away having looked at something from a different perspective.

If you're not capable of doing that, don't leave a comment. I won't publish it. On the other hand, if what you're really after is just to be sure I know you don't like me without telling me who you are, then leave the comment with the understanding that I'll read it, but no one else will. However, keep this in mind:

In this lifetime, I've been married and divorced; made the horrible, unintended mistake of leaving my baby in a vehicle unattended (wrote about that one long ago); cremated my mother and a son; have been cheated on, lied to, beaten up, and sexually assaulted (haven't written about that one). I'm a liberal living in a religious-right society that cares more about keeping gays from marrying than it does starving children and underfunded schools. My president almost choked himself to death on a pretzel while his right-hand man so adeptly shot his hunting partner in the face, and these are the representatives of my country. There's a war in Iraq; the disastrous effects of Katrina; our CIA leaks information, and the federal deficit is bigger than ever. Global warming is a serious, threatening issue despite what our administration wants us to believe, and people actually want us to replace sex ed with abstinence-only misinformation, science with Intelligent Design. If I want to worry about something, it won't be whether or not someone likes me.

My life has graciously brought me enough experience to know that what truly matters in this world isn't so much what others may think of me, but what I know to be true of myself.

So anonymous comments? Keep 'em comin'...but if you're going to act hateful, go sit on your own Front Porch.

A shameless plug for a fantastic weekend getaway and an invitation for you

Wes, the kids, and I spent last weekend at a terrific place near Red Feather Lakes. We rented a beautiful cabin (it's quite a bit bigger than what I think of when I think of a "cabin") called Mountain Rose, and it exceeded our expectations in every way. Check it out by visiting www.themountainrose.com. Between the spectacular views from our location nestled among the mountains, the relaxing hours in the private hot tub, and the warm welcome we received from owners Maggie and Marge, we couldn't have asked for anything more. I highly recommend giving this place a try if you're in need of some R&R. Staying there gives you fishing and boating access to several private lakes as well as public lakes. We spent some time on Crystal Lake...breathtaking.

That said, I'd also like to invite anyone who's interested to join us in a fundraising BBQ for Democratic Congressional candidate Angie Paccione. The BBQ begins at 2:00 p.m. on Saturday, August 19th, and will be held on the private, 5-acre lot on which Mountain Rose is situated. Guests will enjoy excellent food and drink as well as live music. Financial contributions to Angie's campaign are, of course, voluntary...maybe you'd just like to meet her or get to know her stance on the issues (that's the main reason I'm going--I know what I've read about her, but I want to meet her in person). This is a perfect opportunity to do so, and at the same time, you'll get a firsthand look at the property. If anyone wants to ride up with Wes, the girls, and me (the boys will be with their dad that weekend), we've got room in the van for 3 people. Or, if you want to travel there on your own, email me for directions. If you plan on going, please RSVP to the hosts at mmatmtrose@centurytel.net or by calling 1-800-477-7673.

If you've read my columns over the years, even only a couple, you can imagine how much I dislike Marilyn Musgrave. I respect that not everyone shares my opinion of her, and that's cool. But if you think it's time for a change, it would be great to see you at the BBQ. And I would love for you to get to see Mountain Rose.

There's Peace In the Letting-Go
My grandma is 97 years old. She spent her life in a rural region of Pennsylvania, toiling on the farm and raising five children. Thanks to decades of hard physical labor, her body is tough. Her mind, on the other hand, is not. In fact, her mind has already left her behind, and I think she's on the brink of catching up to it.

Gram broke her hip a couple weeks ago. Surgery has repaired the bone, but the after-effects on her mind are troubling. I last saw her in June. She had no idea who I was, but she sure thought my kids were nice. She expressed a special appreciation of my daughter's beautiful hair. I didn't have the heart to tell her that hair was situated on the head of my youngest son, Tucker (and, to her credit, even people with full mental capacity often mistake Tuck for a girl; he could care less). All her life, Gram's wanted a head of thick, luxurious hair. The two strands remaining on her head are not exactly what she had in mind. I vividly remember her affinity for the country band Oak Ridge Boys, not because of their music, but because of their long, curly tresses.

Gram is just a little wee woman, never having been exactly Amazonian to begin with. She lies in her nursing home bed, refusing to eat. She chews on her bottom dentures like they're candy, and she keeps removing her own catheter tube, not without damaging her already-frail body. At night she calls out to her husband and son, both of whom left this world many years ago. And she reaches up for them in her sleep. Maybe she's seeing them. Maybe they're calling to her. She has missed them so profoundly these last decades. Imagine how angry and frustrated she must be when she awakes only to realize she's not only with them, but connected to machines via tubes and tape. The situation seems almost criminal to me.

Gram is my mom's mom. In the recent past, in her more lucid moments, she understood that her oldest daughter had died. Two minutes later, she'd ask again why Mom wasn't coming to see her, but clarity was hers, even if only fleetingly. Now...well, she doesn't remember anyone but Pap and Uncle Bob, and it's plain she wants to see them. She spends her days with a nasty disposition, being feisty with my aunt, her daughter, who spends hours with her everyday, trying to get her to eat and making sure she's bathed. Gram's never been big on the sponge bath thing, and it annoys her now more than ever. Yet my aunt continues to care for her mom in ways I mercifully never had to care for mine.

I know this is an instance when others in my position might drop to their knees in prayer, calling on God to help Gram recover. I'm not a prayerful person in the traditional sense of the word. I don't have daily conversations with God; I don't ask for much of anything except wisdom to guide my children so that they can learn to blossom in a world that sometimes seems hell-bent on kicking kids in the ass. Even when my own mom died, I didn't ask God "why?"; I didn't wonder what the bigger purpose of her death was. That grief, which many of you shared with me through this column, was so mind-numbing, I had trouble stringing together three-word sentences. No, I didn't pray in the way one thinks of prayer.

For me, every act of kindness is a prayer. A kissed owie, a door held open, a tearful farewell...each act is an appeal to the hopeful side of human nature. Turning on the bathroom nightlight each evening, I am aware of how thankful I am to have made it through another day, to have had yet one more chance to be a good mom, a supportive partner, a friend. Likewise, turning that same light off each morning gives me pause to take a deep breath, look in the mirror, and hope that I end the day having done something worthwhile. Awareness itself is prayer; acting in accordance with that awareness is nothing short of evangelizing.

So I can only hope my intent is understood when I say that I do not wish my gram's life to be prolonged. Her life is over; all that's left is her failing body. As my aunt struggles to see her mom like that each day and still keep her spirits uplifted, I have to admit to my belief that death is not the worst fate one can experience. Gram has had a full life. She gave birth six times and buried three of her children. With nothing more than an elementary-school education, she raised a family and kept a farm during some of the most trying times our country has ever known. She was active in her church and extended her loving kindness to anyone who needed it. This existence she's experiencing now is not life. She breathes, but she does not live.

If this is all she has to look forward to here on earth, I want Gram's body to let her go. I know it's not up to me, and I appreciate that. But a body without a mind that can recognize loved ones and familiar places is nothing but a shell. Just one month ago, Gram could smile. It was a vacant smile, backed up with empty eyes that could no longer see the world they loved. I knew then that she was on the final glidepath, as Mom used to call it. And her descent sure picked up speed.

We aren't supposed to wish death on people, I know that. Our society is messed up when it comes to death and dying. We're so afraid of it. I don't think Gram is afraid; I think it will bring her peace. And though I won't pretend to know what's going on in that head of hers, I definitely know what's not going on. And that's all I need to know.

I love my grandma fiercely. And I want her to go home.

I had no idea...

Since leaving the Beacon, I have received an astonishing amount of support from this community. Some of you I already knew; a great many of you I didn't. You've taken the time to write letters to the editor of the paper on my behalf (knowing full well they'll never see print). You've found a few moments to pick up the phone and call to give me moral support and encouragement. How many calls have I gotten that begin with, "Hi. You don't know me, but..." The emails I've received could fill a book. Truly, I'm overwhelmed (why is that a word? is anyone ever just "whelmed"?) with how this has all turned out.

That I've claimed one small space in your busy lives...what a terrific honor. Without a print publication, I've lost a great deal of my readership, I know. So it's up to us to spread the word that I'm still here. Please...let people know. I feel like I've disappointed those who can only read me because I was delivered to their doorstep, and that saddens me. So much of life is hard; I'm glad we can still meet here for a laugh or two...a "right on"...a brief oasis from this desert heat we've been living with.

I wouldn't be here without you, and I just can't tell you how touched (in a good way, not one of those creepy, old-man-brush-up-against-you ways) I am that the change in venues hasn't meant a cessation of publication.

So...keep on dropping by. Leave me a comment. And tell your friends I haven't disappeared.

Can we please let go of Wal-Mart??

Am I the only person in this town who is ready to drown myself in Windsor Lake just to escape the whining and moaning about Wal-Mart's decision to build in Timnath rather than here? Dear god, get over it!

I was not against Wal-Mart coming here; neither was I in favor of it. Had the store been built here, I would have shopped at it. It's not here, so I'll continue driving the very short distance to any one of four other Wal-Marts should the urge overcome me. It's not a big deal.

Building a big-box store near a school is stupid. It's an idea lacking in all important areas: logic, safety, reason. Champions of the idea of becoming home to a Wal-Mart Supercenter are grieving the loss of revenue. But you can't lose what you never had, and we never had that money. The possibility was there, but if it was meant to happen, it would have happened. It didn't.

It would be easy to say that Windsor is divided into two camps: those who want development and those who don't. But that would be an unfair simplification. Smart growth is one thing; jumping at an opportunity that presents itself at the wrong time and in the wrong place is another. It's not as if Windsor is the only community ever to fight back against Wal-Mart. Consider that in 2002, Wal-Mart planned to build 40 new Supercenters in California. Inglewood was one town that did not welcome the retailer. Its citizens lobbied city council, claiming it would be a net-loss for the community (and there are many studies that back up this claim). Two years later, Inglewood residents went to the polls and opposed Wal-Mart's initiative with a resounding 60.6% to 39.3%. Wal-Mart, undeterred, moved on. More importantly, so did Inglewood.

This is exactly what happened here in Windsor. Wal-Mart wanted in, clearly Windsor was not united in its views on the pros and cons of such an endeavor, and Wal-Mart went elsewhere. It's time to move on.

Yes, we need new schools (and here, I would argue that, given just the information that is available on the Internet, a K-8 makes much more sense for this district's needs in every way than does renovating a fossilized middle school and building other schools, but the task force has decided it would be too hard to convince us simpletons of the benefits of a K-8 configuration. But this is fodder for another column.). But Wal-Mart was not going to be the answer to all our prayers. Study after study shows that in the long run, Wal-Marts reduce overall wages of a town's employees, cost taxpayers billions of dollars each year because many of its workers can't afford the company's health insurance, and seriously drain smaller local businesses, including supermarkets. And...there's a reason Wal-Mart is so anti-union.

So let's get past this ridiculous mourning of a retailer that, in the long run, was not going to do us any favors. Let's focus our energies instead on figuring out other ways to build new schools and get the other things this community needs.

[For some interesting reading on Walmart, cut and paste this URL into your browser: http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/shows/walmart/]

On another note: The school board is in the process of selecting candidates for a task force to revamp the student discipline policy in the district. Think they'll give me a call?

Here's the Column that caused such a fuss

Several folks have asked me to post a copy of the column that ran in the Beacon and raised such a ruckus. Here is that column, which ran on 7/1. A few things to know in case you're not familiar with the situation:

- On 5/12, five teenage boys (some of whom had prior records of illegal activity) vandalized the high school by supergluing all the locks. Initial estimate of damage was $4000. All 5 boys were suspended for the rest of the school year, and 4 were expelled for this upcoming year. This sentence was in line with school district policy, as stated in the handbook.

- One of the boys involved comes from a prominent family in town. The father practically owns Windsor...he's donated some $$ to the school district, and it seems to me (and a whole lot of other Windsor residents) that he called in a favor when his appeal failed to give him the outcome he was looking for and...


- He took it a step further and held a special meeting with the school board. The result of that meeting was a revocation of the expulsion. Instead, the 4 boys must pay restitution (which dropped from $4000 to $1600), must provide 40 hours of community service each, and will return to school here in Windsor. Supposedly, if they step out of line again, they will be expelled. Except that only a fool would believe that this ruling will be upheld, since it seems obvious who's calling the shots. This revocation of the ruling went against the wishes of the high school admin AND the interim superintendent (who was set to retire and doesn't live in Windsor anyway, so she really had nothing to lose by speaking her mind).

- The school board president claimed that this was a matter of wanting to see these kids in school. But I think that's just spin. These kids could have gone to school, they just wouldn't have gone back to a Windsor school.

- A school board official wrote a letter to the editor refuting my claim that the board is spineless. She listed all sorts of initiatives that show that the board has the students' best interests in mind, but I don't know what that has to do with any of this. I'm pretty sure most of those initiatives were started by a superintendent that this board ran out of town (yet his initiatives were good enough to continue). A Windsor resident also wrote a letter to the editor, singing the praises of the father who I believe used his clout to strongarm the authorities into doing what he wanted. I've been told this woman received the parcel of land she built her daycare facility on for free--from the father! In the development community his money built (she neglected to mention this in her letter)! Her sister tells me this isn't so, that she's leasing the land legitimately. Either way, the woman was not upfront about her ties to the father.

- I stand by what I wrote, no regrets. I absolutely believe that, had the crime not included the son of a wealthy, powerful man, the original sentence would have been upheld. The fact that this simple op-ed piece raised such a furor says more about the situation than anything I wrote. And based on the onslaught of emails and phone calls I received in support of this column, I only said out loud what many people in town are thinking.

Parents and school board failed Windsor

Three years ago, I began writing a weekly column called The Family Room. As my column relocates from the Windsor Tribune to the new-and-improved Windsor Beacon, I thought it appropriate to change its name to reflect its gradual evolution from a families-only to a community column. And so I welcome you to The Front Porch, where no topic is off limits and discussion runs the gamut from personal anecdotes to politics and current events. To readers who have enjoyed this column in the past, I thank you for following me to The Front Porch. To those of you who are just joining us, I encourage you to kick back and relax as you read about yourselves, your neighbors, and your community here each week. You may not always agree with my point of view, but I'll always give you something to think about.

What I've been thinking about are those five teenage vandals who were recently expelled from school for destroying high school property, only to have their sentence seriously modified. This wishy-washiness in dealing with these young criminals is a perfect example of what I've said before: Windsor doesn't seem to know what it wants to be.

I don't know with absolute certainty the identities of the boys. But my initial reaction upon learning of the sentence revocation was that someone's daddy has money, and that money gave him the power and influence to challenge and rise above the rules. And a reliable source has since confirmed my suspicion. On the one hand, I understand parents not wanting their kids' permanent record marred by a school expulsion. On the other hand, the district handbook clearly states that the willful destruction of school property is grounds for expulsion, and a neutral arbitrator upheld the original sentence. I hope the parents of all five boys take a good, hard look at the role they played in their children's choices. The kids aren't the only ones who are guilty here; their behavior is a cry for help.

That plea seems to have fallen on deaf ears. I think the parents who could afford to do so bought these kids a warped sense of justice. Their rescue attempt is not going to give these teens what they need most, which is a wake-up call and a dose of reality. Instead, all they've done is make a feeble attempt to save face, and give the not-so-subtle message to their children—and ours—that money can do for them what their own moral compasses cannot. And the authorities who could have stood firm, they wavered and collapsed. Who, then, can we depend on in this town to hold our youth accountable when they do wrong? And what will be done when future vandals do their dirty work? Will authorities consistently give them this second chance? If not, then this sentence modification is problematic on several levels.

At 14 and 15 years of age, these kids were old enough to know right from wrong. But seeing as how their parents don't have that degree of discernment, what can we expect? The school board doesn't shine in times of controversy, either. I thought they were still trying to rebuild our trust in them in the wake of the Karbula debacle. If so, they've failed.

This isn't about keeping students in school; it's about the corruption of wealth and school officials who seem to have misplaced their spines.

Good at Sports? You Must Be Black.
I had an interesting chat with a self-proclaimed fundamentalist Christian at the local pool this morning. She confessed to reading my columns and liking them, though she was quick to point out that she didn't always agree with them (ummm...no doubt).

During our talk, she mentioned to me that she was a single mother of 8 (!) kids; four are grown and out of the house, 2 are hers, and the other 2 at home are actually her grandchildren of whom she has legal custody. She started talking about one of her grandkids, a 5-year-old boy who shows great athletic promise. Then, she looked me in the eye and with all seriousness said, "His mother says it's because he's half black."

Holy mother of god, I didn't see that coming. There, under the crowded shelter of the public pool, I snorted. Loud. Ear-popping loud, so much so that people jumped. Do people really still attribute natural ability in sports to one's skin color? I couldn't believe my ears, and after snorting, I just stared at her, dumbfounded. When I could trust my voice to speak without laughing, I told her that I highly doubted his blackness, regardless of total percentage of ethnicity, had anything to do with it. She shrugged her shoulders. "You never know," she said. "No," I replied. "Some of us know."

"All I know," she continued, "is that he can't sit still and is always on the go. My other 5-year-old granchild (a white girl) is content to sit and color." In my mind, I was still trying to come to grips with the fact that this woman was serious. Out loud, I suggested, "Perhaps they just have completely different personalities. It does happen." She agreed that could actually be the case.

Cuz I guess black kids don't like to color, and white kids can't kick goals on the soccer field.

We are so doomed.

Former Coal-Mining Town More Progressive Than Windsor?
I just read a news article announcing that the town of Hazleton, PA (a place I know cuz I've been there), recently found a way to restrict immigration by requiring all legal documents to be written in English.

Aside from being impressed that this relatively small town could get its poop in a group to pass this law (4-1), I immediately thought of Windsor, and how we're not even able to develop ordinances to deal with the cats-at-large situation we've got going on.

Both papers in town have run articles about residents who are upset with all the cats that just roam through neighborhoods. One woman even found a cat corpse in her window well! Imagine how that animal suffered, especially in this searing heat we've been experiencing. That cat probably cooked from the inside. Other residents complain of finding cat poop in their sandboxes (been there) and on their lawns (been there, too). And what does our amazingly unenlightened police chief have to say? "What do you want, cats on leashes?"

Yes! Cats on leashes would be one option. A quick search on the Internet brings up cat ordinances from towns all across America. How is it those towns can devise guidelines and plans, but ours can't? Some towns require cats over the age of six months to be spayed and neutered. Others require leashes, nearly all require registration and collars. Cats that are allowed to roam freely are picked up by animal control, and owners are required to pay an impound fee if they want their pet back.

All of these laws make sense; surely Windsor can come up with something. Free-roaming cats are more than a nuisance. They can become dangerous because they carry and spread numerous diseases. With all the children this town is home to, do you want diseased cats running around? And let's look at it from the cat's perspective for a moment: The life of a free-roaming cat is shorter and harder than the life of one who is treated as a real pet (meaning, kept safe at home; well-fed; generally taken care of).

When people acquire pets, they assume an inherent responsibility for their well-being and safety. Let's hold them up to that responsibility. We wouldn't allow parents to let their babies and toddlers run through the streets, poop in neighbors' yards, or climb up someone's screen door. Why is it we allow pets to do that?

How I Got Here...What Really Happened
So I write a local newspaper column for three years here in Windsor, Colorado. It's popularity grows and my kids get frustrated because we can't go anywhere in town without some reader stopping me to tell me I made her cry or he liked the way I said what everyone in town was thinking but didn't dare say out loud. That column, published in The Windsor Tribune, was called The Family Room.

But then my very excellent editor had a baby and had the audacity to decide to stay home and raise her daughter with her own two hands (imagine!). So I was left with a reporter promoted to editor who I think is a control freak and who wanted to approve the topics I wrote about ahead of time. I got a healthy chuckle out of that idea, said "I don't think so," and wrote my last column for that paper.

Then I walk across the street to Windsor's other local paper, The Beacon, and I ask the editor there if he'd like to publish my column. He enthusiastically says yes, he would. So I rename the column The Front Porch, and I write my first one, published on Saturday, July 1. The column never made it to the online edition of the paper because, well, who knows why. What it did do is make the school board mad because I think they were spineless in how they handled a situation and I said that. Well, I actually said they "seemed to have misplaced their spines," but the meaning remains the same. I also said I believed another party involved in the situation used the influence and power of wealth to get the school board to roll over and play dead, and so I imagine that party was also pretty mad.

My esteemed editor calls me 2 days after my column was published to tell me he's "taking a lot of heat" on my column. Although he proofread the column before sending it to press, he managed somehow not to notice that I did not name a source who shared with me information, but who I instead called "a reliable source." During that phone conversation, the editor informed me that the paper's policy is to name all sources. Well, thanks for telling me that ahead of time, and for doing such a good proof job, I'm thinking. There's a reason sources don't want to be named, and it's because they're sources!

At any rate, my editor explains to me that he feels he must write a disclaimer saying my opinion is not necessarily that of the paper (and in this case, our opinions were completely opposite). I had no problem with that at all. But in reality, that's not what he did. Instead of doing as he said he would, he apologized to readers if they found my column offensive, and said the paper has a policy of not using unnamed sources. He then says, and I quote, "Valentine might not have been aware of that policy." Hmmm...ya think? Since he never told me about it, did not proofread carefully enough to catch it before going to print, and only told me about it 2 days after my column is published? Maybe I didn't know about it? Ironically enough, the morning of the day he published that smashing, butt-covering editorial, he sent me an email that said, and again, I quote, As for your first column, I think we’re clear about unnamed sources now. I apologize for not making that point clear before. I also should have spent more time looking at your column last week. I was swamped with the launch and didn’t give it the close read I should have. If I had, we could have resolved that matter quickly.

So imagine my surprise when I realize he pinned his failure on me and hung me out to dry. My pseudo-editor at the Trib got on my case because I wrote a column praising a local auto repair shop (Windsor Auto) and actually named it. How the hell am I supposed to share the news of great companies if I can't name them? He got a letter from a reader (affiliated, I suppose, with one of the other local auto shops that suck) who was miffed that I didn't talk about every other shop in town. But my column wasn't about every other shop, I don't like the other shops, I've had crappy service at the other shops. And now, at the Beacon, I'm being blamed because I did not provide a name.

My editor sends me an email, telling me he doesn't want my opinion columns, which floors me because The Front Porch is an op-ed column. He wants the feel-good stuff, the funny stuff. Reading between the lines, what he seems to not want is trouble, so I'm wondering why he hired me in the first place, especially when I made it a point to remind him that sometimes, my column is controversial, and he was okay with that.

So I give up. I had high hopes for the Beacon, but when your editor so obviously doesn't have your back and caves under pressure from the powers that be, then tells me I'm relegated to writing fluff, what's the point of trying? So I'm starting this blog. I'll miss having print editions of my columns, but I think the tradeoff is worth it. Here I can say what I have to say, you can say stuff back to me, and we don't have to worry about editors who worry about pissing people off.

I hope you'll visit The Front Porch frequently. I'll try to write at least weekly; more often if my kids are driving me insane (see my profile for pertinent info) or I'm feeling frustrated by the seeming abundance of people who can't commit to anything in this town. I welcome your comments and feedback. If you like what you read here, please tell your friends and invite them to join us. If you don't like what you read here, please tell your friends, too. Usually if someone gets mad at something I say, it's because there's some truth to it.

Thanks for stoppin' by...I'll leave the light on.