I’m fed up with noise. Everywhere I go, there is too much of it. And I don’t mean normal conversations, the noise of daily life, etc. I mean piped in noise, turned on noise, stuff that isn’t necessary to your everyday getting things done life. Take yesterday for example. I had the day off to take care of an appointment. In the small waiting room, where you were supposed to give information to a receptionist mind you without having to yell preferably, CNN was blaring from a giant TV. The next waiting room (because there’s always more than one waiting room, isn’t there?) there was music coming through the speakers and some courtroom show on in a TV in the corner. The third waiting room (I’m not making this up) has soft lighting, snacks, soft talking nurses, and yes, a giant TV screaming at me. Look, I work in TV, I should be loving this, right? Wrong. I don’t need a TV on in every room I go into in every building I have business in everyday. The tire place I was at last week had FOX news blaring. The restaurant we ate at last night had a really loud music track right over our heads. Even the burger place up the street from the station plays loud music outside the entrance to the place (and don’t get me started on how they shout at you when you walk in!) so you can’t even sit outside and enjoy the evening without hearing ‘Final Countdown’ by Europe. What ever happened to silence? To good ol’ reflective, being alone in your head, thinking ’bout stuff, silence? Must we be assaulted with noise at every turn? It’s as if businesses are so worried about creating an “atmosphere” or keeping us entertained that they don’t think for a minute that we may want to enjoy a coversation with someone without shouting, maybe read a book or magazine in a waiting room, or just sit and enjoy a nice quiet evening having a meal outside. Can’t we as a society wait for a service or stand in line somewhere or buy something without being entertained? It reminds me of being a kid in my mom’s car on a long car trip across Texas, pre- i-Pod, pre- video games, and staring out the window at the passing landscape, just thinking. Maybe we’d play the spot the license plate game, maybe not. But I was expected to tolerate the lack of ’something to do’ and just be. “Look at a tree”, my mom would say. “Find shapes in the clouds or stick your head out the window and feel the wind in your hair.” Excellent advice. Silence isn’t bad. Not knowing everything that’s going on the second it’s going on isn’t bad either. I go to these places to do business and spend money. You’re already in my wallet. Stay out of my head.
Survivor: Etowah River September 10, 2009
We survived the camping trip! And between you and me, it was pretty fun. The campground was packed and it wasn’t quite as secluded as we would have liked, but it was nice. Our Saturday started early as we packed up two cars with everything three people and two dogs would need for two and a half days. Then we drove just 45 minutes north of town and were directed to our campiste by the Etowah River. It was shady and grassy (in spots) and not too far from the bathrooms, so we set up camp. The dogs proceeded to turn the campsite into their own personal bathroom, roll in the dirt, eat bugs, and generally enjoy themselves like they are not able to while padding around our home in Alpharetta. It actually became humorous as the 30 foot leads we had them on got tangled up until both of them were an inch away from the tree we’d tied them to. We spent a lot of time untangling. We also spent a lot of time in the water. And despite a dead chicken (not sure how that got there) and people panning for gold (not sure how they got there either) we pretty much had a little stretch of water to ourselves. We cooked all our meals outside and is it just me or does everything taste better when you’re eating outdoors? The bugs were minimal, except when we had on this super powered kerosene lantern my husband picked up that I think is used by NASA to bring in the shuttle. Every flying insect within a 30 mile radius had to visit to see what the heck it was. We played games, I read, my husband fished, and our daughter ate more s’mores than her tummy could hold. Then, she wanted s’more. (sorry, I couldn’t resist) Sure we didn’t sleep great. The tent was hot and dirty after the dogs plopped down in there for the night. The showers served a triple purpose of repulsing us, cleaning us, and acting as dishwasher since I, being environmentally minded, didn’t want to bring any paper products and create more waste. But by Monday morning when we were shoving everything back into our cars, we were dirty, but we were happy, closer as a family, and I found myself smiling on the drive home (albeit with my head out the window because the dogs stunk) thinking my husband was right – it is a great family tradition. One we will continue. Maybe in a cabin next time. Or a Hilton. 
Campout! September 2, 2009
This weekend the Fishers are going camping! Big deal, you say? Well, then you don’t know the Fishers. My husband has got this down. A childhood spent ‘roughing it’ with his brother, sister and parents has prepared him. Lucy and I are another story. We are not what you would call ‘outdoor gals.’ Now, I love a beautiful day on our deck, reading, listening to the wind rustling the leaves, a day spent on the beach, or a nice walk through the park with the dogs – but sleeping outside, on the ground, is not really my thing. Like my good friend Kim says, “I’m outdoorsy in that I like to drink on patios!” But we’re going to try this as a family and honestly, I’m looking forward to it. We’ve got enough camping gear to live in the Appalachians for years, we’re only going about 30 minutes north of where we live, and I’m sure between us we’ll have three cell phones and an I-Pod touch. So, I’m thinking we’ll survive. My husband says his best memories of childhood are camping with his family. Fishing, exploring the woods, making a fire and burning your s’mores. To see him so excited has gotten us girls in the camping mood. Our daughter’s concerns about bees and snakes evaporated when she and Daddy took the flint into the backyard to make sure it worked and proceeded to burn up piles of leaves. I think this will be great for her to get away from the TV and video games and commune with nature. I think it will be great for me to enjoy the calming affect of time spent in the crisp outdoors. As for my husband, he’s getting to pass on a family tradition to his family. I’ll gladly sleep on the ground for that.
My big 5th grader August 7, 2009
My daughter just called to breathlessly tell me she got the teacher she wanted and that her two best friends in the whole world (keep in mind these names change daily) are in her class and that she’s so excited to start school Monday and (take breath) that she and Daddy are getting barbeque to celebrate. I have a huge smile on my face while listening to this because for weeks she has been explaining to me the importance of having this particular teacher and these particular friends with her as she tackles her last year of elementary school. I’m thrilled for her I say, and then I need to have her pass the phone to Daddy because I’m getting choked up with the thought that our little girl is not so little and that soon, too soon, she’ll be in middle school and high school and then, gone.
Despite being about the same height as one grandmother and wearing contacts and deoderant, she’s still my baby sometimes. You know that great age where little girls are not yet young women and they will still allow you to hold them in your lap, to snuggle, to want to be picked up ‘like a baby?’ She’s still there and I’m holding onto it with everything I have. Now don’t get me wrong, I look forward to knowing her as a young adult and watching as she matures and becomes her own woman. But I will miss that little girl so much.
There’s a picture by our bed of her when she first came home from the hospital, maybe she’s two days old, and she’s staring right at the camera with the cutest frown in her brow, pouty lips and the biggest, bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. I stare at this when I’m having trouble sleeping. I remember what she smelled like and sounded like and how she fit in your hands and I can’t believe that she and the girl asleep in her room are one in the same. And that the tiny baby who was so stubborn she came two weeks late became the toddler who traveled cross country twice so mommy could take new jobs became the little girl who was so bright we sent her to school early became this big girl.
I want to tell her I’m proud of her, that she’s the love of our lives, and may this final year of elementary school be that wonderful combination of the innocence of being my little girl and the anticipation of being your own.
Apollo 11 Anniversary July 17, 2009
John Wolfram, 1969
This week I put together two stories I found fascinating. My photographer, A.J. Willen, interviewed the man who was the first to welcome home the astronauts of Apollo 11 when their space capsule splashed into the Pacific Ocean on July 24, 1969. At the time, John Wolfram was a 20 year old Navy Seal, who, by sheer luck and timing, was the seaman who was sent first into the water that afternoon to make sure the astronauts were alright and to secure the capsule. He told a great story about how many people had trained for the sea rescue, there were 9000 men on nine ships and over 50 different aircraft circling the Pacific a few hundred miles off the coast of Hawaii. The team that was closest would get the call and John happened to be the one. If you’ve seen pictures from that day, you noticed the giant flower decals on John’s wetsuit. He said he was a prankster back then and after NASA reprimanded him and some other seaman for using the decals on the Apollo 10 mission, he knew they had to make a comeback. And they did. All over his wetsuit. Another interesting thing he told us was that after the astronauts had been safely moved from the capsule to a helicopter, that was on its way to the U.S.S. Hornet, he and the two other Navy frogmen with him played ‘king of the mountain’ on the capsule while it was bobbing in the ocean. Like I said, it was a fascinating interview. He also shared with us some of his memoribilia from that day, including some gold foil John took from the hull of the capsule and shoved down his wetsuit. He has a new book coming out that details all these great stories called ‘Splashdown.’ You can see his interview with us Sunday and Monday nights, July 19th and 20th, and 11:00.
Kiss goodnight June 25, 2009
I’ve been taking a summer break from some of the health stories I normally feature here. My producer and I are working on a bunch of great stories for late summer and early fall so don’t worry – those health alerts will return!
I did want to take a minute to answer a question I get asked a lot by viewers and that is – how do you deal with being away from your family at night? The simple answer is I don’t. I don’t deal with it very well, actually, but I’m a great faker. My nine year old daughter has known nothing other than her mother works at night. Her entire life she has watched as I leave at 1:30 in the afternoon and come home long after she’s gone to bed. Family dinners are her and Daddy (and two begging dogs at their feet). My wonderful husband understands this is our life and supports and loves me, despite the odd hours. And so does our little angel. Me? Well, I’m okay with it most nights. It’s the career path I’ve chosen and I love what I do. What I miss during the weeknights – the concerts, the recitals, the after dinner walks with the dogs, bathtime, tucking her in – I make up for in my precious weekend time. We play and shop and talk and play some more and laugh and snuggle and I cram it all in and recharge my batteries (and hopefully hers) so we can get through five more days of not seeing a whole lot of each other. And don’t tell her, ’cause it’s something I do just for me every night, but I walk softly into her room where she’s kicked off all the covers and pillows and where usually there’s a a dog sharing her space and I stare at that perfect face, and kiss those perfect cheeks, and I thank god I’ve got this patient little person in my life who understands that mommy may not always be there at night, but mommy loves her more than she can ever put into words.
That one kiss on the cheek each night – is how I deal.
