ah, boredom. waiting for something to do when at work has to be the hardest work i do. i dont mind my job, i just hate the waiting. and the monotony. and the waiting. can you guess what im doing right now?
i talked to a very nice doctor today who just happens to be Islamic. when the syrian-born doctor left his home hospital last thursday, he was a well respected doctor. A pillar of the community who helps to save people's lives.
by the time he returned on monday, most of Alexander City was convinced the FBI had picked him up in relation to Sept. 11. Why is that? why must we assign the traits of a few very bad people to the entire population? when timothy mcveigh bombed the federal building, there was no outcry about the dangers of the christian faith. in a similar case, why arent the actions of rabid anti-abortionists assigned to everyone who calls themselves pro-life? well, nevermind, that does happen, to a point.
My point is, we need to realize that every group of people has a smaller group who take those beliefs to the extreme. there are bad people, but that is no reason to categorize everyone with similar beliefs as equally bad.
we are living in scary times, but its wrong to let fear cause us to hate. And now, i shall step down from my soapbox.

must sleep....tomorrow is another day.

excuse me....make that "the news drought has finally broken." and, again, forgive the callousness.

after a summer of Chandra Levy and the alarmingly average shark attack rate, the new drought has finally broken.

forgive the callousness, just a random thought.

The horrors unleashed on the United States of America Tuesday defy adequate descriptions.In the past 15 hours, i have seen a person plummet 80 stories to his death to escape those horrors. I saw the most prominent aspect of the world's most legendary skyline erased in less than two hours. At times, i could only think of it like the kindome or some las vegas casino being imploded, as an insulant against the reality of the thousands dead. Stories of innocent people trapped on guided missiles, who call their loved one for a final "i love you," before crashing headfirst into a bustling office building. Of fireman fighting a 110 story conflagration, only to be crushed as it is reduced to eight. The images make me hurt inside. I have spent the day "covering the event," taking quotes, calling officials, snapping the "dramatic picture." This, in a town 1,000 miles from the damage. Small town community reaction is as shocked and frightened, but, eerily, they go on with their lives. To compare pandamonium on a television screen with a tuba, practicing "Hey Baby" in reality created an eerie haze in my mind. where i totally new terrible things were happening, but never felt them, because i was wrapped in the cloak of a journalist. As i come home, i have time to reflect. I have time to process the enormity of all ive seen, though my every view is through a 19 inch window. My children and grandchildren will interview me about this day, i have to figure out what i'm going to say. I want to rail at the need to "PUNISH THOSE WHO ARE RESPONSIBLE!!" But, be serious. We aren't fighting a nation, at least not in the typical terms. While killing or apprehending Bin Laden might reduce the threat to American assets, anything less -- an attack on his lieutenants or bases -- is only a vague setback. He has a network that can easily cull more crazed Arabs eager to fight the holy war to the death, and that of American citizens. But that is unfair, no Arab has been proven responsible. My reflex is to assign blame, to create an enemy at which to focus pain. But, until a credible suspect is found, i can only hurt -- and, more importantly -- heal within. And keep working.
My prayers and thoughts are with all America

A story im working on...aint this thing great for transferring work.

Clarisse Castleberry wore a bright red pants suit with glittering golden buttons and epaulets to entertain her guests Wednesday morning.
Her clothes were much finer than what Eclectic’s top brass wore, but she was justified in her finery.
After all, it’s not everyday that a person turns 103.
Mayor Thomas Coram read the venerable lady a proclamation declaring August 29 Clarisse Castleberry Appreciation Day. Eclectic’s former First Lady and eldest citizen, Castleberry was presented with a ceremonial key to the city.
As her visitors talked, it was obvious that Castleberry was not willing to be a conversation piece.
“I bet I’m older than you are,” she said, breaking into conversation.
Castleberry insisted that Olaia, her NURSE(?), move her closer to the circle of conversation around her dining room table and, though her hearing is less than perfect, she didn’t let that stop her.
Coram said he hoped there would be many more appreciation days for the centenarian.
“You’re going to live to be 112,” the mayor said. “We’ve figured it out.”
Coram still remembers her husband, Eclectic mayor John Castleberry.

As she was introduced to each member of the party, Castleberry bent her left ear to hear every word they said. As police chief Dwight Sparks stooped to speak to her, a flicker of recognition lit up her face.
“You’re Sparky,” she said. ”I’ve been knowing you since you were a kid; I always said you were my own.”

As Coram announced it was time to go so the birthday girl could rest, Castleberry protested.
“I’m not tired,” she said to Coram. “What other excuses do you have?”

This will hopefully be a place that will force me to write something other than my daily newscopy. I haven't decided exactly what form it will take, but, eventually, id like to make this my all-purpose, clip-book, journal, soapbox page.Who knows how often it will actually get updated.