Stephany Fisher's Weblog

Overweight State

Stephany Fisher — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 03:04:28 +0000

There’s a joke here in Georgia – “Thank God for Mississippi” – because if it wasn’t for our neighbor to the west we would be last in most national polls. It holds true for the national childhood obesity rate. Yep, we have the second highest one, right behind Mississippi. The second highest childhood obesity rate in the country. In a state with plenty of sunshine. No excuse not to get outside and play. In a state with abundant peach orchards and poulty farms and peanuts. Fruits, lean proteins, healthy snacks. It’s also a state where Southern cooking and tradition and yes, poverty mean those peaches are made to stretch in a sugary cobbler. The chicken is fried. And the peanuts top a hot fudge sundae. Our children are gaining weight at an alarming rate and they are carrying it into adulthood with diabetes and heart disease. Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta has launched a controversial ad campaign against childhood obesity. It features overweight kids talking about how tough it is to be an overweight kid. The state has launched a fitness program in every school where a child’s weight, height, and BMI are measured and they must pass a physical fitness test. Run a mile. Do push-ups. Do sit-ups. This too is proving controversial because parents are worried about where that info is going and what it’s being used for. They’re worried about how their child will feel and about how the other children will treat them. And we here at CBS Atlanta are partnering with the Atlanta Falcons Youth Foundation and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention to put a salad bar in every school cafeteria. Salad bars filled with fruits, veggies, whole grains, and proteins, that kids can use as their daily meal or as a way to supplement their hot school lunch or lunch from home. Controversy? No. Resistance? Yes. It seems some schools are reluctant to change or worried about cost (taken care of) or they simply think the kids won’t like it. Why so much push back on an issue that is clearly reaching epidemic proportions in our state? My humble opinion is Responsibilty with a capital R. Who is responsible for this? Who wants to take responsibility? I personally feel it is the parents’ repsonsbility. The child bears some as well. But I’m all for making it easier for kids and their parents to make healthier choices when they’re being responsible. I’m proud of our Fit Kids, Fit Families campaign we debuted this week. I’m proud of the children’s hospital, our football team, our state health department, and our schools for talking about this problem, for taking the first steps in tackling this problem, and for cutting through the controversy and resistance to end this problem. Now kids, it’s your turn. Make us proud.

Below is a link to the Fit Kids, Fit Families section on our website.

http://www.cbsatlanta.com/category/229545/fit-kids-fit-families

Viva La Resolution

Stephany Fisher — Tue, 03 Jan 2012 19:30:38 +0000

First, Happy New Year! It’s cold today, the sun is shining brilliantly, and everyone is back to work. Working in TV, it never really seems like the holidays because there are always newscasts. And although we didn’t travel home for Christmas this year, we had a wonderful one here and a great New Year’s Eve get together with friends at our house. Santa was good to us and just spending a couple days together does good things for my soul. I do get melancholy though when it’s all over. Do you? The tree is down, the lights are put away, there aren’t any more cards coming in the mail. It’s over for another year. Driving home last night from work the neighborhood seemed oddly dark with everyone’s Christmas lights either off or down. It was a stark reminder that now we must face the arduous task that is January. Is this why people make resolutions? To give them something to power through the post-holiday blahs? To make them feel as if this new year really is a new start and not just another day? I’m not a big resolution maker. I work all year to accomplish many things and have never really singled out something big at the start to tackle. I know I will not work out more. I’m certain I won’t eat better. I do want to enter some stories for Emmy awards this year. I had a good 2011 in the reporting department, thank you. I’d like to get to the beach this year. Read this year. Walk my dogs. Laugh with my daughter. See ‘Contagion’ (I love a good global epidemic movie!) Call my grandmother more. Host an Oscars party (I love the Oscars!) And then I’ll figure out what to in February!! Are these everday things resolutions? I guess maybe they are. To me they are simply the stuff that makes up a good year. My birthday just happens to fall during this holiday hangover month. I resolve to eat a nice dinner and drink too much wine to celebrate. The Mayans believed this year is the one in which our world ends. I’m sure we’ll still be here in 2013 but if by chance they were onto something, I wouldn’t change the things I want to do. Isn’t that the perfect resolution?

What do you want to do in 2012?

Wish List

Stephany Fisher — Sat, 24 Dec 2011 02:12:50 +0000

We aired the obligatory story this week about children’s letters to Santa. The gist of it was that letters this year are a bit gloomier than in year’s past. Gone are the pleas for a Playstation and skateboard. They’ve been replaced by “a job for mom or dad.” Touching. But then the reporter added something that at first seemed ridiculous, adults writing to Santa asking for the same. Some letters even had a resume attached. Like I said, it seemed odd. Adults. Asking Santa for a job. But then I thought, what does it hurt? What if it made that person feel better writing down their worries for a fictional character. Maybe sending their resume to an overworked postal employee made them feel not quite as hopeless in their job hunt. Maybe wishing for something is the key to making it happen.

So this adult has a few things I’d like to request of Santa, if I may.

Dear Santa,

Please drive the cancer from the body of the son of my dear friend. May he grow old and have his grandbabies come to his house for Christmas.

Please let my grandmother know how deeply she is loved as she spends Christmas alone. May our Thanksgiving visit linger in her memory.

Please guide my brother as he finds his way in the time of great unemployment and an uncertain economy.

Please reassure our families of our love as we spend Christmas apart for another year.

Help those who cannot help themselves. Ensure safe travels for those far from home. Bring joy to those for whom all seems lost.

Mostly, grant me the gift of grace. To appreciate all that I have. To never take things like health, love, or a job for granted.

Oh, and Santa, if you can, there is a red patent leather Valentino purse…

What? It’s a wish list!!

Merry Christmas.

Welcome Home

Stephany Fisher — Fri, 09 Dec 2011 03:47:45 +0000

It doesn’t matter how long you’ve lived somewhere else. Or how far away. Or how often you’ve returned. There is something about the place you grew up. It has a smell, a feel, a familiarity that few things have. And it’s strange isn’t it because you don’t realize this until you return. Then, you are flooded with the memory of place. I traveled to my home state of Texas for Thanksgiving. After 15 years there, I moved to a state that couldn’t be more different, Washington. Where Texas is dusty, flat, and hot, Washington is green, cool, and mountainous. That makes it sound as if Texas isn’t a beautiful place. But it is. To me. The cactus, the six foot tall wild sunflowers, the fields of bluebonnets, the sky, massive, and rivaled only by the one you look up to in Montana. It’s hot day and night. There are thousands of ‘cricks’ (creeks) you cross while driving. So many in fact they’ve simply run out of names for them and the sign will read “Creek.” Despite these many water sources, the land is not lush by any stretch. Everything needs a drink. There are cows and armadillos and tarantulas and crawdads and the biggest insects you’ve ever seen. It was a short visit to see my grandmother that involved about an hour car ride from the airport to her place. During that drive, with my husband glancing at his i-Phone for directions and our daughter watching movies on her i-Pad, I stared out the window at the passing landscape and remembered. What I felt like as a girl taking long car trips with my mother across these very highways when all you had was the scenery to look at. What it smelled like when it rained on hot asphalt. The cool water from a river crossing the road. The way the sky turned a million colors before filling with stars. The feel of dirt in your toes and wind in your hair. My parents, young again. My childhood. My dear grandmother and her yard full of pecan trees. No matter where I go, this place is in my blood. It is my home.

On My Mind Tonight 11-8-11

Stephany Fisher — Wed, 09 Nov 2011 03:33:46 +0000

How easily your path can change because of someone else’s words. Whether what his accusers say is true or not, Herman Cain will not become President now.

Can you imagine how stressful being President must be? We watch these men age before our eyes.

Speaking of aging, my tween daughter is growing up too fast. With her fringe boots and cute dress today, she looked like a young woman heading to school.

She has an opportunity to take the A-C-T college entrance exam this winter as a 7th grader through a program with Duke University. I could not be more proud of her.

I can’t rememer what I scored on either the A-C-T or the S-A-T. Can you?

The fall weather has been spectacular. My favorite time of year.

A saleswoman at Nordstrom today said and I quote “Hugo Boss sizes run small so if that dress doesn’t fit, it’s the dress, not you.” Guess what? I wasn’t worried that it would be me. I would have just grabbed a different size. And we wonder why women have such a complex about their dress size.

I love that we newswomen have gotten away from the man’s blazer uniform that has been the norm for years. I still have a few suits but its nice to wear dresses on the air. It’s okay to be a woman in a man’s world.

I’m really not a fan of the stick figure family stickers people have on their cars. Or the family of sea turtles representing the family members. Or the family of flip-flops. Although I did see one the other day and the stick figure had wings and I assumed it was a family member who had passed and I thought that was kind of sweet.

It’s still one step above the strange vanity license plate though.

Although I do love a good bumper sticker.

My favorite of all time “HONK IF YOU LOVE PEACE AND QUIET.”

The production crew, whom I affectionately refer to as my ‘production posse’, brought Dunkin’ Donuts ‘munchkins’ to the studio today. They are my posse for a reason.

The ‘overweight lover’ Heavy D died today. Me and my best friend Kari listened to his music throughout college. He was only two years older than I am now.

As the proud owner of an iPad and reader of Steve Jobs biography, I am now an Apple convert.

Jobs was a real jerk. A brilliant, charismatic jerk.

The Apple ad “Here’s to the crazy ones” still gives me goosebumps.

I’m not one of the crazy ones. I wish I was. I’m so grateful though that people who think different do exist. Makes life infinitely more interesting.

Time to ‘face time’ my daughter and tuck her in. Where there once was a phone call, now I can look into that sweet sleepy face before I go on the air every night.

That’s my kind of crazy.

Your turn.

The Big Ones

Stephany Fisher — Fri, 21 Oct 2011 00:57:10 +0000

I’m often asked by viewers ‘What is the most interesting story you’ve ever covered?’ Not having been a street reporter for several years now I have to go back to my days covering news in Portland, Oregon, Greenville, South Carolina and Yakima, Washington. And when I travel back there my tendency is to zero in on the biggest stories I covered. From the first big national news story I remember covering; Magic Johnson having AIDS, to local news that captivated a national audience; Kurt Cobain’s suicide. There was the grisly murder of a young woman in Yakima. My first taste of crime reporting and of reading a police report. Not for the faint of heart. There was the first election I covered. Mouth dry but hands sweating in my live shots shots because political reporting has always made me nervous. There have been earthquakes, tornadoes, landslides, fires, ice storms, heat waves, and cicada invasions! Terrifying workplace shootings, car crashes that claim young lives, freak accidents, and a mother who drives her two babies into a lake so a man who doesn’t want children will love her. Local corruption, bad cops, worse politicans, the ‘Thursday afternoon protest’ in Portland. Court cases, robberies, carjackings, rape. Lot of bad stuff. Lot of good stuff too. Good in the sense of inspiring, life-affirming, goose bump inducing stuff. A wheelchair bound 13 year old who filed a petition to divorce his parents and choose his caregivers. Strongest kid I ever met. A nurse whose hands were burned off after she filled a kerosene heater with gasoline. Bravest woman I ever met. A couple who taught chimpanzees sign language so humans and animals could communicate. The chimp’s name was Washoe and she lived at an animal facility at Central Washington University in Ellensburg, Washington. She had large, bright eyes, a slight build, and those eerily human hands. Hands with which she said ‘Hello Stephany’ whenever I would return to cover her story. Her enclosure was spectacular with rope strewn trees stretching upward. Water and rocks and toys filled the floor as Washoe and her adopted son Loulis played. In fact, not only was she the first chimp to learn American Sign Language, she taught some of her 350 words to Loulis. The student became teacher. When I would arrive, her handlers, The Fouts, would call her name and she would come right to the fence and with fingers outstretched, eyes sparkling with recognition, sign ‘Welcome back friend.’

Washoe died October 30th, 2007 at the age of 42. I think of what an impact she had on this young reporter. Of how on slow news days I would convince my news director we needed to do an update on Washoe and race off to Ellensburg to see my friend. Of the incredible feeling of knowing an animal feels, thinks, and can communicate like we do. It was and is the most interesting news story I have ever covered.

Homecoming

Stephany Fisher — Tue, 04 Oct 2011 01:53:01 +0000

Saturday was homecoming in Alpharetta. It was a beautiful fall day. Cloudless blue sky. Crisp temperatures. Brilliant sunshine. Perfect day for football. It being homecoming and all there needed to be something to set it apart from the other games. These are middle schoolers so there wasn’t a dance and you didn’t have former players returning home to take the field to be recognized. Just your same group of girls, boys, and their parents, who gather here every Saturday afternoon for a ballgame. So, the plan was for the cheerleaders to be given a rose and escorted onto the field by a football player. Names being announced, of course. There was much hand wringing the week before about which boy might escort which girl and how this was going to play out. Well, it played out. Beautifully. The uncertainty of who you were walking with, the awkwardness of where to place your arm and how to give and accept the rose, the homemade giant Raider footballs through which the kids walked, it was all so… innocent. An innocence that will soon disappear as they place more importance on being cool than on being kids. As I crouched on the field, smiling through tears, to get pictures of my girl and her escorts, Troy and Jacob, I was struck by how much will change for her in the next few years. As she discovers who she is and finds her own way. I know some of that innocence will be lost but I hope not all. I wish for these kids to hold onto the sincerity of this moment. The genuine feeling of pride as you cheer and play for a team full of heart. The rush of hearing your name announced to a stadium full of people.

The simplicity of taking a friend’s arm and walking onto a sun drenched football field on a perfect October day.

To Kari

Stephany Fisher — Wed, 21 Sep 2011 01:49:37 +0000

My dear friend,

There is nothing harder. Nothing. Not career changes, not divorce, not death of a parent, nothing. There will never be another moment in your life that requires more of you. There will never be another moment in your life that is harder. Or more emotional. Or more stressful. This is it. The worst thing you can imagine happening is happening.

I remember meeting you 24 years ago on a campus in the middle of a wheat field during a drama filled pledge week as we both tried to find a sorority that was right for us. We came from the same town but attended different high schools. The friendship was instant that freshman year. Borne in humor, a childhood spent with single mothers, and rap music, we clicked. No one could make me laugh harder, argue longer, or conspire more devilishly than you. You were far more talented. Funnier. More focused. This tiny ball of energy that wanted to be a varsity cheerleader, and an advertising whiz, and the perfect girlfriend, and a creative rush coordinator, and a good friend and sister, and .. well, you seemed to be able to do all of these things. We sang together to recruit new pledges. We volunteered for skits that made us a mockery of the greek system. We traveled to concerts. We partied. We dreamed. We stayed up late in our bunks planning our lives. You were and are the best friend I ever had.

Our paths have veered since then. Yes, we stood up at each other’s weddings. You are my daughter’s godmother. We are a country apart. But that girl. The one I met when we were just 18, that is the one I want to talk to right now. You are the strongest, best woman I know. I don’t always agree with you. Sometimes you make me crazy. But you can and will get through this. Your son couldn’t ask for a better mother to help him fight cancer. There is a reason he chose you to come into this life through. Because you were meant to fill this role for him. To love, comfort, console, provide. I’ve known you had it in you since the moment I met you.

And when you can’t do it, you’re exhausted, it’s all too much. I’m here. The equally crazy 18 year old girl who, like you, can turn anything into a song, wore giant bows in her hair, and laughed easily and who has loved you half your life.

I’m here. I’m here.

Parental Guidance Suggested

Stephany Fisher — Wed, 31 Aug 2011 02:01:15 +0000

I let her do it. I caved. I’m a sucker, a pushover, a softie. For months, my daughter has been wanting a facebook page. I’m not on facebook. Her father is. I was against it. Said father was leaving it up to me. I said no. No, what could you possibly do on there that you can’t accomplish during school, or on your phone, or through e-mail, or at football games. No, it will take too much time away from homework and your chores and your animals. No, you’re too young. No, you’ll become obsessed with checking your page. No. But then this weekend something happened. Was it the big blue eyes? Was it the sweet voice asking again for the hundredth time? Was it my fatigue? Was it that she’s a great kid with great grades and a good attitude and .. yes. That’s why I caved. She’s a good kid. And she doesn’t ask for much. She really doesn’t. I give her much. But when I think about it, she doesn’t ask for it. She does what’s she told, she brings home all A’s, she is a dedicated cheerleader and violinist and gymnast and swimmer and whatever else she needs to be. She is polite and smart and kind and aw hell, why shouldn’t she get to indulge in the one thing all her friends and half the planet is indulging in anyway. There are rules. No friending adults that aren’t family. De-friend someone who is rude or mean to you. And let Daddy check your page. I was on facebook briefly in 2008. Didn’t like it at all. I found out today it is *the* most viewed website in the world with like a trillion views a month. Okay so I’m an outsider on this one. But my daughter isn’t. You should have seen her face when I gave in. There were tears, and a million thank yous, and a giant hug and plenty of kisses, and geez, what can I say? I’m a strong woman. I can say no to a lot. But not her.

Oh, her birthday is next weekend. This facebook page was all she wanted. Now what do I do? (No, Lucy, I’m not caving on the Mac Book Air.)

On my mind tonight

Stephany Fisher — Wed, 24 Aug 2011 01:38:07 +0000

Why don’t we name earthquakes like we do hurricanes? Could be fun.

The low humidity today was such a nice reprieve from this oppressive summer.

Please make it last until the football game this Saturday so my little cheerleader doesn’t suffer.

Ate too much barbecue tonight for dinner. Hole-in-the-wall place. Oustanding.

TV people are weird.

Isn’t it fun to know weird people?

I love my i-Pad. I’m using the word love about an inanimate object.

Speaking of inanimate objects, I want to tell the entire reporting staff, you cannot ask an inanimate object a question. It cannot say or think anything. You also cannot evacuate people, only places. Well. you can evacuate a person. But you don’t want to.

”True Blood” and “Entourage” were good Sunday night. Glad to see storylines are picking up.

Everyone’s raving about ‘The Help.” Is it worth reading or seeing?

Watched the actors’ and director’s commentary for “Seven” this weekend. Did you know they spent $50,000 on those spooky opening credits?

I don’t know which gets tired faster after a busy news day – my eyes or my ears. My vision is blurry right now and my right ear aches. See, TV is glamourous.

I just used my desk dictionary to look up glamourous. I have had this dictionary since my first reporting job in 1992. You will not find the words ‘sexting’ or ‘mankini’ in its pages.

‘Sexting’ and ‘mankini’ were added to Oxford’s Dictionary today.

I have Labor day off.

But not Christmas.

More TV glamour.

I seem to always glance at a clock when it reads 9:11. Is this significant? Or is it just because of the significance of those numbers that I seem to remember looking at a clock?

My little muffin just called to say goodnight. There is nothing sweeter than her voice. I think it actually soothed my aching ear.

I will be deaf in my right ear as an old woman. I’m sure of it.

Someone just cooked a Lean Cuisine. I know the smell of microwaved cardboard.

Need to go brush my teeth before promos. Remember, I had BBQ.

Oh crap, I also need gas. Hate filling up in midtown after midnight.

Antwan’s here. Promo time.

Your turn.