Monthly Archives: May 2012

Facebook: The public and personal

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After the recent public offering by the popular social networking site, Facebook, seeing follow-up stories about the continued decline in the stock’s value has been rather interesting.

While I’m not one of those who rushed out and purchased Facebook stock, I have had a Facebook account since Sept. 2, 2008 (I had to look that up on my Facebook timeline).

Investment gurus have shared their thoughts on the plummeting Facebook stock, and a couple of things I’ve heard have stuck with me – first, that Facebook is a passing fad; and second, that Facebook isn’t tangible. How do you put a value on a free program that millions of people around the world enjoy?

The stock market can decide Facebook’s worth. I’m more interested in the thought that the social networking site is a passing fad. I certainly don’t spend as much time on Facebook as I used to, but I credit that to deleting some of those time-wasting games and deciding my time was better spent working on my stash of needlework projects.

Aside from linking an occasional story I’ve written for the Daily Globe or posting a link to my blog, I’ve refrained from posting much on Facebook these days. Really, who cares that I walked a couple of miles down by the lake or went out to the farm to decompress by spinning four-wheeler tires through the mud? They probably find it as fascinating as I do when I read that so-and-so has finally potty-trained the youngest child.

Then again, I guess I can thank Facebook for learning about cousins celebrating pregnancies, friends celebrating birthdays and a nephew announcing his recent engagement. Facebook has become a virtual journal of the moments – big and small – in our every day lives.

That leads me to a question for you readers. In a recent chat with our online content coordinator at the Daily Globe, we discussed whether or not reporters should have individual Facebook pages designated as their “work Facebook” page.

The more I think about the potential, the more I like it. For starters, there are a lot of people I connect with through work who aren’t Facebook friends of mine simply because I don’t want to cross that professional-personal line. I’ve even deleted Facebook friends – some longtime friends – because they are newsmakers or frequent sources. Oh, I still consider them friends, just not “Facebook Friends.”

Now, if I had a Facebook page tied to my job, I could be “friends” with my boss, my co-workers, the mayor, city council members, county commissioners, county employees, community leaders and anyone and everyone who wanted to connect with me professionally online. My page could be a source for news tips, “the rest of the story” stories, breaking news assignments and, well, the opportunities are endless, I suppose.

Best of all, you won’t have to read on my work Facebook page that I shed a few tears at niece Jessie’s graduation Friday night, spent nearly my entire weekend cross-stitching in my recliner at home, and capped off the four-day weekend with a Memorial Day bonfire with the neighbor kids in my backyard. I’ll save those tidbits for the people on my personal Facebook page who may or may not care.

Dream big, learn much

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I reached the hospital about 20 minutes after visiting hours had ended for the day, and I don’t know what I would have done if the nurse hadn’t let me see the latest addition to the Buntjer family – a little girl – my first-born niece.

She wheeled the baby into the hallway, and I still remember the feeling of shock when I saw your face. I think I even asked the nurse, “Are you sure this is the Buntjer baby?”

There, in the clear plastic nursery basinet, was this precious little babe with the fullest head of dark hair I’d ever seen on an hours-old infant.

The nurse may have laughed a little, then assured me that yes, this was Jessica Renae. A few years later, I started calling her Jessie.

Later on this week, Jessie will don her cap and gown and walk into a gymnasium with Pomp and Circumstance and this Aunt Julie will be trying to swallow the lump in my throat and keep the tears at bay. Shoot, I’m already crying just writing this. Another one is all grown up.

Well, grown up to the point of high school graduation anyway. As you will find out, my dear Jessie and all you other graduates out there, your life has only just begun.

I’ve been thinking for a while about what I’d write about your graduation day. I turned to Dr. Seuss for inspiration in “Oh, The Places You’ll Go!” I listened to country music songs like “My Wish,” “Don’t Miss Your Life,” and “I Hope You Dance,” a favorite of mine, sung by Lee Ann Womak.

“I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed
I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens
Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance….”

I thought a lot about the advice I want to give to you, Jessie, and the truth is, everything I can think of has already been written before.

When I was a kid, I used to watch the airplanes soaring high above and dream that I was a world traveler, on some grand adventure like those people flying overhead. When I walked down the road to fish in the creek, I dreamed about following that road as far as it would go – all the way to the Atlantic, and then to the Pacific.

Never stop dreaming, Jessie. Take every opportunity to travel, to experience new places, new cultures and make new friends. Open your eyes, embrace the journey and let it continue to shape who you will become.

Do what you love and love what you do. Work hard. Play hard. Find a hobby.

Never stop learning. As you plan for college in the fall, there will be more textbooks, more lectures and more life lessons in store for you. I hope you take them all in stride, and remember that it isn’t always about math, it’s about learning to solve problems. It isn’t always about English, it’s about developing an enjoyment for the written word.

Remember this, if you can’t afford the travel, the closest thing to it is a library.
One of my favorite books, “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn,” is on my bookshelf if you ever want to borrow it. Oh, and I also have the last 17 issues of “Travel+Leisure” magazines thanks to the subscription you sold me while fundraising for your Spanish Club trip to Puerto Rico. You may use them for inspiration if you like (and no, a stack of magazines isn’t what I’m giving you for graduation!)

Everything else I could share with you can be summed up in Robert Fulghum’s book, “All I Really Need To Know I Learned In Kindergarten.”

“Share everything. Play fair. Don’t hit people. Put things back where you found them. Clean up your own mess. Don’t take things that aren’t yours. Say you’re sorry when you hurt somebody. Wash your hands before you eat. Flush.
Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you.
Live a balanced life – learn some and think some and draw and paint and sing and dance and play and work every day some. Take a nap every afternoon.
When you go out into the world, watch out for traffic, hold hands and stick together.
Be aware of wonder.”

Congratulations Jessie! Best wishes to the Class of 2012. This is your life. Make the most of it.

Four days in the life of a reporter

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More than a few times over the last four days, I had to remind myself to just take a deep breath and exhale slowly — everything’s gonna be all right.

From Friday afternoon through Monday noon, I logged 262 work miles on my car. It began with the search for storm damage after numerous funnel clouds were reported across Nobles County Friday and ended with a trip to the newly expanded AGCO facility in Jackson Monday morning to tour the tractor assembly line (that was really awesome, by the way!)

Sandwiched between those two adventures were a trip to Windom Saturday to cover the Wings on the Prairie event and the release of five trumpeter swans; and then to Luverne on Sunday morning to capture the images and emotions of a wonderful reunion between our National Guard soldiers and their families after nearly a year apart.

I can’t even tell you how many people I interviewed during that span of days —I just know it was a lot.

It’s funny how, in the movies, the life of a reporter is often depicted to be a glamorous profession. Never are they shown eating fast food lunch in their car (I’m rather embarrassed to admit I did that three times in the last four days), frantically scribbling notes, and then, trying to decipher those same frantic notes back at the office.
By the end of the day Monday, that span of four days produced half a dozen stories, two photo galleries, more than 100 photos and this blog. Uff da.

After all of that, I must say these past four days have been an exciting, exhilarating whirlwind of work for this reporter, and nearly everything I wrote about fell into the “good news” column.

Topping the list, of course, was the troop welcome home. If I could have been in two places at the same time, I would have been at both Jackson and Luverne to cover the parades and reunions.

Sunday marked the third time in the last eight years that I’ve had the honor of covering soldiers returning home, and it’s an experience that leaves me teary-eyed every time. I’m so thankful that most of our troops are now safely home and reunited with their families. Thanks troops for the sacrifices you’ve made, for your dedication and service to a country that allows so many freedoms, including freedom of the press.

As long as we have that freedom, we will continue to bring you the news —the good and the bad —day after day.

I’ll be back at it in a couple of weeks, after taking a much needed stretch of vacation days.

I’m not sure yet how I’m going to spend my days off, but with the Minnesota fishing opener on Saturday, you can be sure I’ll get to the lake a time or two.

Mostly, I plan to sit at home, with my feet up and my overhead needlework light shining on my latest stitching project. There’s a little Godson in my life who adores John Deere tractors, and my Auction Day pattern is slowly starting to take shape.
I’d really like to have it completed by Christmas, but I refuse to set a deadline on my stitching hobby. Deadlines are for the newsroom, after all.

Do you know the answers?

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How much does a calf weigh when it’s born? What is the typical age of a cow who has just had her first calf? Why are baby calves taken away from their mothers?

Those questions and many others were posed to and asked by inquisitive third graders at Worthington’s Prairie Elementary today. The barrage of questions were sparked by a visit from DiDi Christopherson and her parents, Dean and Carol. They are local farmers who were sharing information about the dairy industry during a Nobles County Farm Bureau-sponsored Ag in the Classroom event.

They completed four sessions today, and will return to the school tomorrow to meet with the rest of the third graders.

I was asked to help out, although I did little more than collect items that were passed around and squirt a dollop of hand sanitizer into dozens upon dozens of third-grader hands. It was fun. I earned a sunburn and a string of string cheese. Best of all, I get to go back and help out again tomorrow!

I held back several giggles as I watched the kids react to the factoids of dairy production.

The question and answer that created the biggest guffaw was, “How old is a cow when she’s had her first calf?”

A girl in the fourth and final group today came the closest with the answer “3,” but I think the highest age guessed was 47. The right answer, in case you’re wondering, is 2 years old.

You should have seen the jaws drop on the kids’ faces when they heard that!

My second favorite question and answer was, “How much does a calf weigh when it’s born?” This time, the answers from the students ranged from two pounds up to 150 pounds – and everywhere in between. The correct answer is anywhere from 50 pounds to 150 pounds. The boy who guessed 150 grinned from ear to ear at the boys sitting next to him.

The third graders learned about the importance of calves getting their colostrum milk, passed around a calf bottle (which is much, much larger than a baby bottle), smelled the sweetness of vitamin-fortified milk replacer and a couple of other calf food items, looked at straw and wood shavings and waited patiently for the best part of day … meeting, touching and petting a four-day-old bull calf named Bronx.

By the fourth class, Bronx was just as excited to see the kids as they were to see him. He jumped around to show his playfulness, smelled dozens of sneakers and blue jeans and even sucked on a few third-grader fingers, to the sheer delight of the kids.

I can’t wait to see how Bronx handles the kid crowds again tomorrow, but I think I’m more excited to hear what the kids have to say about meeting Bronx.