I've seen a great line that goes "I went around for years, shouting, HEY, EVERYBODY, I'M WHISPERING, and wondered why nobody believed me."

That saying ran through my mind when I heard the version of what happened on the UWM campus from the students who were arrested after the mob, which originally was organized to protest tuition hikes and staff cuts, decided to forcibly enter the Chancellor's office, attempting to do so in one case by scaling the building and entering through a second floor window.

The students claim the assembly was "peaceful and legal" and the arrests were a violation of their first amendment rights to free speech.  I'm sure it started that way, and they could have garnered support for their plight, but they blew their credibility when their conduct clearly overstepped the definition of peaceful, therefore also calling the legality of their conduct into question.  Their own student TV station "Panthervision" recorded the event, along with snowballs being thrown at police.

My profession depends on the first amendment, but I too realize that it stops when the behavior associated with the message becomes physically threatening to others.  I counted about 6 policemen trying to talk to the assembly while snowballs cascaded down on them, and I don't think the intent was to engage in play.

If students are so concerned about issues, it's important to understand the most effective way to enact change is through a more legislative process.  Protests make great news footage, but rarely do they change policy, and definitely not when the protest turns aggressive and even violent.  Police made arrests, and in my mind, did not act with violence against a much larger crowd. Arrests were made.  Those are the consequences.

Today they are staging another 'silent' protest, which is legal and perhaps will provide more impact than trying to break a door in.  Hopefully they outcome of this demonstration will provide a better lesson, and recall another saying, "If you want to capture someones attention...whisper."

A friend of mine is in a citizen's group allied with Police, and I will receive from time to time alerts or updates from her based on Muskego Police communications.

Last week, I paid attention to one regarding a red van, which I admit seeing during the week, driving slowly.  I quickly realized that once again we were receiving another of about a dozen yellow pages that seem to spring up just below my mailbox.  What really caught my attention in the email was the statement that neighbors noted two black men driving the van.

Let me say I am not one to jump to conclusions, and I hate how much the race card gets played.  However, if any of these complainants had looked past the color of the skin of the driver or the passenger, they would have seen a bright yellow bag in their wake, explaining everything and avoiding police time in investigating.

Now I have received the following alert that I will pass along, as it proves even more disturbing.  While I doubt one is related to the other, I have to admit I thought of the earlier email when I read it:

NEIGHBORHOOD WATCH PROGRAM

SPECIAL BULLITEN

February 25, 2010

On today’s date, the Muskego Police Department was contacted by a resident who received racist propaganda in their mailbox. The flyer included derogatory comments about African Americans and Hispanics. The flyer was found in a mailbox on Ladwig Dr., which is located off Woods Rd., between Bay Lane and Durham Dr. In speaking to the letter carrier in the area, it appears these flyers were placed in numerous mailboxes in the area.

As part of our investigation, our officers will be in the area, speaking with residents, and attempting to determine how widespread the distribution of this flyer was and if possible, identify the person responsible for it. Officers will be checking mailboxes in the area in an attempt to find more flyers that may contain evidence identifying its author. We will also be in contact with the United States Postal Inspector.

We ask that if you have received one of these flyers, please contact the police department at the non-emergency number, 262-679-4130. While we may not respond and take the letter, we will take your information and add it to our investigation.

Unfortunately, this is not the first time material like this has been found in Muskego, but it is the first time that it has been widely distributed to the general public. Any help you can provide in helping us identify the person responsible is greatly appreciated.

Thank you for your help,

Lt David Constantineau

My face is currently red....but I'm not sure if it's from anger or embarrassment.

A follow up to my last group of Olympic thoughts...things I have learned (athletes, feel free to borrow these nuggets of wisdom) thus far:

• Never state that figure skating is remaining simply a sport.  About 24 hours after my last post, the antics at the medal ceremony and subsequent comments by the Russian skater Evgeni Plushenko (and Vladimir Putin, for Petrov's sake!) have pushed it back into 'soap operaville'
• No athlete should let the NBC cameras or microphones near them.  Intrusive and embarrasing, they've picked up on intimate, emotional conversations between athletes, sometimes having to publicly apologize for the f-bombs that came with them. 
• Any sport can be made more interesting with a good wipe out (non-lethal, of course)
• Canada's national anthem is darn catchy, and I'm hoping to learn all the words.
• Bobsledders go faster when they turn to each other and scream into each other's face just prior to their run
• Ice dancing is the exception to my previous point about wipe outs.  Nothing can make this riveting in my eyes, unless Johnny Depp takes up the sport.
• I love Lou Reed's "Perfect Day", even though I initially thought it was They Might Be Giants - good call by AT&T (no pun intended)
• Apollo Ono's soul patch still annoys me; I need to constantly fight the urge to grab a napkin and wipe his chin to make it go away
• Bob Costas still annoys me; I need to constantly fight the urge to grab a napkin and wipe my television screen to make him stop talking and go away

The question seems simple enough, but when posed, it generally elicits a bit of debate.

Most of the people who do and most of the people who don't watch cite the same reason:  these are sports I've never seen before. 

I stand in the camp of watching, and so far I've not been disappointed.  The idea of overcoming adversity to compete on a global stage in a sport you are passionate about is compelling to me.  Only a few days into competition, here are a few observations, positive and negative.

• From the vignettes that NBC feature, it would seem that you cannot participate in the Olympics unless a) training every day meant a 17 hour journey, b) one or both parents/siblings died suddenly within two weeks of the opening ceremonies OR c) the athlete themselves were near death in the last 6 months.
• That said, the best of these vignettes have featured the developmentally disabled siblings of several different athletes, and the message of encouragement they convey to their "normal" brothers.  A fantastic lesson in life and what gifts everyone has to offer.
• For all the talk of the commercials during the Superbowl that often get overlooked if you're attending a party, the corporate sponsors (with the exception of McDonald's) have stepped up in a big way with their own compelling ads (GE gets my gold medal), whether they be poignant or funny.  And they get repeated more than once so if you missed it the first time, stick around.
• Broadcasters should also be tested for substances.  Cross country skiing is interesting to watch, but I have to say the color commentator at the end of these races may need an ambulance or rehab given his near-apopletic play-by-play at the finish line.  Regardless, they deserve an A for enthusiasm and drawing the viewer - neophytes that we may be - into the drama of the sport.
• Technical difficulties have been rampant since the opening ceremonies, and Canada needs to step up their ability to foresee and react to these snafus once they occur.  Last night's speed skating events were delayed over an hour because not one but three Zamboni's were on the fritz.  It's Canada - doesn't everyone drive one during the winter?
• Figure skating has so far managed to be a sport and not a soap opera - here, here!  (Granted, we've got a long way to go - there HAS to be a scoring controversy brewing.)

I do watch the Olympics, and I am proud to do so.  While I doubt I will ever understand the Biathlon, I can appreciate the sheer athleticism and cardio-vascular integrity you need to push your physical limits on skis, then stop and calmly fire a rifle at a target the size of a tennis ball.  I've heard these athletes can plummet their heart rate to about 28 beats per minute while firing to stay calm and aim true.

Still not convinced?  What else is there in the middle of February, still too far from Spring Training games and with the NFL in the rear view mirror?  Pass the chips, please....

Many posts back, I swore I wasn't interested in social networking.  I resisted invites to LinkedIn, and eventually relented because it was a good step in getting my resume out there.  Being unemployed, I figured it couldn't hurt, and I swear I'm trying to keep up.

However, my daughter asked if she could join facebook, and explained that through her cousin's account, she found many of our relatives - adults and students alike.  Wouldn't it be a great way to connect?

OK. Sure.  Then she showed me how to join.  That was back in late summer.

Now I feel like I have made that important step, similar to learning a language where translation falls by the wayside and hearing is understanding.  I now automatically can relate real-time situations to what my FB nation would think.  I am slightly disappointed when I am 'scooped' by someone else in posting a funny youtube video or commercial.

I have even taken a camera to events with the sole purpose of posting it to my photos page. What have I become?

To top it off, a report released recently has pointed to social networking and internet usage increasing feelings of isolation and depression. 

However, I did a little research of my own - on the internet no less - and found the basis for the study out of UC Berkley (strike one)  was Emile Durkheim, a sociologist who lived from 1858 to 1917.  His conclusion then of our need to relate to something outside of ourselves: "If we have no other object than ourselves we cannot avoid the thought that our efforts will finally end in nothingness, since we ourselves disappear." 

I'm thinking Emile didn't get a lot of dates.

I feel much better about my self-admitted addiction to the site, mainly because it does help me communicate with cousins out of state and out of the country.  The alternative would have been to not talk to any of them because by comparison email is one-dimensional and regular mail is getting too expensive.

I also feel (unlike Mr. Durkheim) that our efforts are what keep legacies alive and memories real.  Not to say that Facebook is the venue for creating legacies, but to assume the lowest common denominator about its use is also ridiculous.

And I plan on posting as much on my home page.

There was a note that came home regarding Catholic Memorial's annual TWIRP (the woman is required to pay) dance. 

It covered dress code, hours, and the fact that there would be a breathalizer there on behalf of the Waukesha County Sherrif's department as well as many chaperones who would escort any obscene dancers out of the building.  Standard stuff.

At the risk of carbon-dating myself, I recall when dances were formal, and a bit uptight, events.  Where most kids danced awkwardly together (with the exception of the long-dating football and cheerleading couples), and the only drama occurred in the girls' bathroom when so-and-so came with a new girl on his arm only days after breaking up with another so-and -so.

Now schools have begun to more specifically identify obscene dancing, and it's been quite a revelation.  "Grinding" is definitely out, which is a sad thing to have to explain to kids, who obviously have been comfortable engaging in it.  In their own school's gym.

Perhaps what is more revealing that the casualness teens feel about sexuality (many feel fellatio is the new 'good night kiss'), is that is has been allowed to get to this point.

Again, at the risk of being labeled prehistoric, I don't accept the idea that "it's just what kids are doing these days."  If people believe that, it has only happened at the complete approval and acceptance of parents who want to remain 'friends' with their kids, and instead put them in greater peril.

It will never be OK in my house for my minor daughter to engage in sexual activity of any kind, or even imitate it in public.  If she wants to pole dance, she'll just have to wait to practice until she is over 18 and legally doesn't require my permission. If people want the best for their children, standards need to reflect that and it starts with something as simple as a dance.

Yes, I may end up in a museum, but I hope the plaque in front of me says "Cared enough to teach her child to respect herself and not to fall victim to popular progressive culture."

I learned Tuesday at 5pm of the Haiti earthquake, and as I knew 6 women from my parish were heading down to Haiti, my initial thoughts were for their safety.  I was grateful to learn that they were still here, their flight that was to leave early the next morning canceled.  Relief, but only momentarily.

They were to deliver supplies to our 'sister parish' in LaTabouliere, which is in the mountains.  No doubt that village was eagerly looking forward to the visit, as they always are, for the moral and practical support our parish in Hales Corners brings.  I am told they are all OK being separated they are from Port Au Prince by a one-hour plane ride, plus an additional bus trek up the mountain.

Yet my heart breaks to see the need, even though we have known this nation, in which 80% do not have electricity and 70% are illiterate, has suffered great need for decades.  I will agree with the President in this case:  the tragedy seems especially cruel given their hardships already endured.

As fragile as the buildings were that fell, so is their fledgling government, a republic in place only a few years.  That there has been no official statement from the capitol is equally distressing.  The concern is of course first to save the survivors trapped, bury the dead, and then ensure the fragile structure of order remains.

I've spent the better part of last year questioning my ill fortune, and wondering what it will take for things to improve.  The images I've seen in the last 24 hours shame me, with a young mother grateful to God that her children are still alive, even though she has little to nothing else and no certainty when help will come.

I pray that help truly arrives to all those who need it, no matter where they are or what their disaster is, and realize that gratitude is our anchor. Our own fragility is reason enough to believe that there certainly is one stronger in which to place our faith.

"Oh lespri sen desann soy nou; vin konble nou ak tout de bon K'ap fe tout de BonDye. Le ou avek nou ranj nou byen bel ou fe tout de byen Je`men nan nou menm."

(Oh Holy Spirit, descend upon us. Come mix us with all the goo that will make us resemble God. When you're with us, You make us beautiful. You make all that is good germinate in us.)

Perhaps unwittingly, I have been laughing death in the face. Or at least my age, which if you're a teenager like my daughter, they are one and the same.

I do not turn 45 until February, and for the most part my age has meant little to me.  It really is just a number.  But as I recall some of the last conversations I've had with similarly-aged peers, the topics have aged.  What hurts, to dye or not to dye (for the record, hell yes), and how to counsel our children on the hidden temptations of dating, alcohol and sex.

My response has been, now that I look back at it, to run and keep running.  Literally.  I started jogging about a year ago again in earnest, figuring I had the time.  Now I think it was a way to say "take that!" I figure I'm in better shape (at least in a cardio-vascular sense) than when I graduated from highschool. (I'll let you do the math on when that was.)

This fetish led to my taking a seasonal position with UPS as a driver helper.  I'm sure I did not fit the general demographic.  Most who 'live the big brown dream' are male and about 20 years younger.  However, with some twisted pride mixed into the need to make money, I lasted the season of hopping onto and off of a truck carrying packages in cold and slippery conditions. In fact, I was thrilled to know that most of those 20-somethings don't bother to come back after the second week.

I tuck that experience into my cap, along with every step I take on the treadmill these days, and realize, "hey I still got it!" Take that, 45, and many more to come!

I am so there. Ready to leave the 'aughts' or 'oughts', whatever they are called.  A decade that for most is remembered by great polarizing election division, 9/11, war and economic stress. Personally, it has been a decade of 5 jobs lost, 7 pets lost, several close relatives lost, and in general a lost feeling of where to turn next.

Normally, I long for a quiet evening on New Years eve, then realize my teenager may consider that a serious sign of depression, then decide last minute to attend a party where I start to wonder how soon after midnight is not considered impolite to leave.  This year of all years, I have been granted such a wish.  A peaceful last 1/2 hour to toast the few treasures brought to me in the last year, the last decade, alone with the only dog God has still granted me.

I have three vibrant nieces, brought to me through my brother's marriage to a lovely woman who has also been a great sister.  I also have the "00's" to thank for bringing me the highlights of my daughter's growth from a toddler to a teenager, and my golden retriever Ralph, who bowed out in the waning days of the decade.  I am grateful, make no mistake.

However, I share the general 'good riddance' that so many feel for a decade that has under-performed. And while I may say 'forget the last 10 years' I - like all the others -  have been indelibly shaped by them as I leave them behind.

I plan on tackling the 'teens' as a stronger person for having survived, a wiser person for the lessons I have learned, and a gentler person for the trials that have humbled me to my knees.

I ask our good Lord for blessings on all of us as the clock passes into 2010, a new year, a new decade and a new outlook.

I've heard the saying that dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole.  Having been owned by dogs for nearly 20 years, I have to agree.

My own dogs and my fosters have graced my life, and I feel have made my soul a little gentler, a little more perceptive and gosh I hope kinder as well. Our first foster failure (the endearment for a foster dog that you can't give up and end up keeping for yourself) Ralphie was no exception.

About three years ago, he was a six-year-old labeled as aggressive with children, and for the life of us, we could never elicit a response from him that would even approach anger.  We muse from time to time what cretins these children must have been, as Ralph would bark you to the point of deafness, but truly was all talk.

While three years does not seem long enough to form a huge attachment, Ralph was one of those dogs that needed us, and at the time, we needed him.  He was the balm that healed me from the passing of my first two dogs, and he just fit into our lives and hearts with ease. My first image of him was his initial greeting, walking directly toward me to plant a wet sloppy kiss on my mouth.

Just as suddenly, however, we are forced to say goodbye...a cancerous mass on his liver would end his life yesterday, and take a part of our lives with him.  As many of you know, it's been a trying year, and to say that this comes as a sucker punch is an understatement.  Ralph's mellow nature was comforting and his zest for eating comical at times, and will always be what we remember most about him. His loss leaves a hole that I fear will not easily be repaired.

As 2010 approaches, I am all too eager to lose 2009. It's been a cruel year for so many, and I will enter into it looking to repair and heal again...hopefully with the spirit of that gentle dog at my side.

""Not the least thing hard to bear when they go from us, these quiet friends is that they carry away with them so many years of our own lives...No stone stands over where he lies.  It is on our hearts that his life is engraved."

I'll readily admit it:  I am a fiercely independent person, and this has been a tough year to swallow.  Unemployment creates a vulnerability that I am just not used to, nor comfortable with.  However, my drive to survive supercedes any pride, and perhaps that is the whole point.  Lose the pride, admit your need for others and above all your Creator, and the rest will fall into place.

I have had a couple of conversations with my parents, who are all too selfless and willing to help me out, leaving me deeply thankful, but also deeply frustrated that I've fallen so short.  Inevitable comparisons crop up over what they were able to accomplish at my age (44) and how as a kid I never felt worried over what tomorrow would bring.

My own daughter has witnessed my angst, and I know it does worry her, too.  So I was nearly knocked off my feet when she asked if we could have a talk the other night, and what the topic ended up to be.

She attends Catholic Memorial and during Advent they have been offering more opportunities for communal and individual prayer.  This day she told me she decided to go to confession, and her great sin was in not helping me more around the house.

"You're not doing the dishes after supper because you're doing homework and working on projects," I tried to reassure her.

"But you do so much for me, and I give you nothing," she said, and burst into tears.

Ironically, I had said the same thing to my parents earlier in the year, and I knew exactly how she felt.  However, I also gained an insight into my parents' own incredulous response.

"You make me proud, every day...that is what you give me," I told her, hearing the echo of my mom's voice in my head.

I'd like to say this was enough to satisfy her, but in the one-way mirror of parent-child relationships, I also knew there was no way to convince her, just as I couldn't believe my own parents' response, which was quite similar.

If this is a measure of doing parenting right, then I do feel reassured.  In the meantime, I will hope that my daughter has a similar conversation with her own children somewhere down the road.

As I write this piece on a 10-degree day in late fall, I ponder how entertaining the Global Warming issue would have been if it weren't so hypocritical.

As thousands gather to espouse responsible living to reduce CO2 emissions (that would mean what we exhale), the numbers are indeed sad.

Call it an inconvenient truth, if you don't mind the pun...

The U.N. itself estimates that the conference, which runs over the course of 12 days, will create more than 40,500 tons of the evil toxin (again, hold your breath).  This is equivalent to the output of the same carbon emissions of Morocco in 2006...for the entire year of 2006.

It is the classic case of 'do as I say, not as I do,' and frankly it makes me want to let my 2006 Trailblazer idle in the driveway for an hour.

International travel and local emissions from hotels and transportation venues comprise this number. 140 aircraft carrying world leaders, heads of state and VIPs will land in Copenhagen, the U.N. estimates — although 95 percent of departures from Copenhagen Airport will be “green departures,” which allow airplanes to climb continuously to their optimal operating level, enabling them to reach planned routes sooner than usual.  The U.N. says this means saved fuel, time and emissions, but isn't that like saying you 'saved' your family $5,000 by buying that Lexus on sale even though you had the option of telecommuting to work?

It's just more hot air - fitting for a global warming conference, actually.

Lately there seems to be no shortage of stories in the media that people just cannot get enough of, and perhaps even demand to be told more.

Of course, front and center is the Tiger Woods "story" of his accident in the early morning hours of Thanksgiving Day.  The breaking news today, five days after the story broke, was by the Florida Highway Patrol who said it was issuing a ticket for reckless driving, assessing 4 points against his license and fining him $164.

The case is closed for the FHP, and truthfully it should be for a media (and public, frankly) that just can't stop caring enough about this incident just in case there's some really good dirt to be dug up. The neighbor's statement also backs up the claims of Woods' injuries being sustained by the crash.

I for one do not care what happened, if there are any details beyond the accident itself.  It's simply not my business, no matter how much Mr. Woods makes.  His high-profile does not give me any right to his personal life, and I've got my own to take care of in the meantime. As a Brett Favre fan, I would say the exact same thing. While I'm a fan, I'm not a family member and don't deserve any more information that what he or other celebrities want to offer about their professional and personal lives.

If I am not mistaken, Woods has never stated he was flawless, perfect or above the law...the adoring media that up until lately has surrounded him to elevate him to idol status has said as much, though. I worry about a culture that seeks to find heroes, raise them up for near-worship, only to crave their very demise, no matter the cost.  I cringe at such bloodsport, and prefer to skip the spectacle.

I must admit by now I thought I would be blogging just as a side diversion, a snack before the meal, but lately it's been the only really fulfilling writing I have been doing.

While one seasonal job has come to an end, another beginning, and in between it all the rigor of sending resumes and internet research for jobs remotely relevant, I am standing in front of Thanksgiving with hands folded in grateful prayer for what I have come through so far.  Unemployment can be called an adventure for us 'glass half full' types, and indeed it has its perks of additional time to do truly meaningful things like volunteering.

On the other hand, good deeds mean little to We Energies or Target, and my hands are joined with others equally frustrated to work in a field where we truly belong.

Yet, I cannot be anything less than grateful to a God that has blessed me with a family that has been supportive in so many ways (the value of a good hug and a good laugh have increased with the progression of the year).  I watch my daughter flourish in high school, and delight in the carefree play of my dogs, and I must know how rare the privilege is to have all these things.

My wish for all is to enjoy a day - a season really - of true and abiding gratitude, where challenge is not a setback but an opportunity to grow closer to others and true joy is found in giving, even if the giving is only of thanks.

As pleased as I was to report on the healthy respect Muskego has paid to fall and all things autumn, I am equally delighted to remind you of the 2nd annual (I like the sound of it) Christmas parade and Country Christmas on Saturday, November 21st.

For parade freaks like me, the day couldn't be more perfect...catch the Milwaukee downtown parade first, catch a little lunch, then attend the local festivities starting at 2:00pm.  While the route is a short one, from the corner of Janesville and Pioneer and heading to the Settlement Center just south of City Hall, the events are deliciously small town and invoke a 'yesteryear' feel. 

Forgive my gushing, but this is why I live here...because of its simple rural roots, Muskego has always been the more down-to-earth second cousin of the more urban chic Brookfield, and as such we can pull off a Country Christmas that means it, and looks great doing it.

Our Historical Society will also be dressed for the occasion, and the original Town Hall and other settlement buildings will be open until 6pm when the tree lighting ceremony begins.  I was delighted to hear from Historian Laura Mishefske that there will be much to see in the way of photos of historic Muskego in the basement of the Town Hall, just the beginning of a concerted effort to catalog and present the history of our town for the curious.  (The website is along coming along and will have much more to offer in the coming months for people seeking information.)

For me, a lover of my small town and its sometimes-forgotten or overlooked history, it will truly be a day of gifts, and the best the season has to offer.

Saturday was that day in fall that nearly made up for the sorry state of the weather in October, and I was a bit hesitant to give up one minute outside, much less 45.

However, the Veteran's Day ceremony held at Regency in Muskego and presented by the VFW Lembezeder-Cook was more important, and my guilt overcame my desire to maybe just buy a poppy instead, sometime.

I cannot stress what these ceremonies can do to a person, and how important it is to go, even just once out of curiosity.  Within the small gathering of perhaps 100 in the central lobby of the Regency were 30 veterans, also residents there now.  Aged to the point of requiring assistance to walk or to breathe, it was easy to wonder about their unique stories and experiences.  While they will never admit to it, they are heroes and living history in a most modest disguise.

As the program progresses and the lost and the fallen are reverently remembered for leaving home, family and comfort, it is difficult not to be moved with gratitude. 

On my way home, as nice of a day that it was, the air somehow smelled a bit sweeter and the sun a more golden hue. A gorgeous day in fall, made more priceless by the priceless sacrifice that allows us still to move freely about and enjoy its blessings of liberty.

Thinking ahead to Thanksgiving day, I felt more ready to celebrate the holiday, and while the idea was to sign the armistice treaty on 'the eleventh hour, of the eleventh day of the elevent month,' its placement on the calendar ahead of turkey and dressing I feel is more than coincidence.  It is the true grace before a meal. 

I recently enjoyed a short trip to New York...really short (less than 24 hours).  We flew out on Midwest Airlines on a 'friend pass' or standby basis and tried to take Manhattan, only to be gloriously defeated with oodles of pictures and great memories to go with them all in the aftermath.

We enjoyed the good Midwest plane on the way out, and the future of what Midwest will become on the way back.  Quite a bit more cramped, about half the overhead bin space and actually very chilly.  (Not to mention the lack of chocolate chip cookies.)

Our discussion with my cousin who is an attendant revealed that the Embraere jet (who???) was Republic's staple in the air...not a great omen.

The second revelation was the lack of media coverage regarding Midwest, which we were amazed to learn will be flying their last route as Midwest Airlines, a there-and-back to Boston on November 2nd.  (MIdwest connect may stick around, but will be a Republic venture) Midwest employees by and large are out, unless they prefer to train with Republic in Indianapolis only to receive no guarantee they would be based back in Milwaukee and regardless of where they might get to go, would receive a 40% paycut.

Midwest has already 'furloughed' approximately 1,000 people among corporate staff, agents, pilots, attendants, mechanics, etc., in the last year and because they were THE hometown airline, many of them were also your neighbors, friends and relatives. 

Apparently the final entry to the gate is traditionally met with flanking fire trucks which hail the 'retirement' with arcing sprays of water over the fuselage.

While the regular media have chosen not to take notice so much, the loss of yet another truly Milwaukee business that for many years was a source of pride and critical praise deserves at least a little fanfare. 

A relevant sidebar to the story: While we enjoyed New York and greeted its storekeepers and fellow tourists, we shared that we were from Milwaukee. When the stare remained blank, we just explained it was north of Chicago.  I fear 'twill remain ever thus if our homegrown businesses continue to flee the city... into thin air.

First of all, a little full disclosure:  I am a seasonal employee at BuySeasons in New Berlin.

However, wherever I would be working, I would still find the recent controversy over the "Illegal Alien"  costume proof that people really have got to pick their battles.

Clad in an orange jumpsuit, the extra-terrestrial-headed ensemble also comes with a green card.  Immigration groups are in an uproar, but my first thought is that the people who should be offended by this costume are Art Bell followers.

Target and other big box retailers pulled the costume in response to negative reaction and claims that the costume was offensive, tasteless and promoting negative stereotypes.

This begs the question: aren't most adult Halloween costumes tasteless and offensive? Someone is bound to be offended by the pregnant nun or the political parody costumes that are often the most popular sighting on October 31st.

The bottom line is that we have many rights in this country, yet the right NOT to be offended is not one of them.  Groups who truly have noble agendas to educate and advocate on social issues like racial stereotypes must have better battles to fight.  For the record, the costume, which was in stock prior to the publicity, is now sold out for the season, indicating that the battle is lost on this front.

Let's remember Halloween is silly, fun, outrageous, creative at times - April Fools in a mask.

I worry about silencing such trivial expressions that in reality are not being forced on anyone...Should you disagree with what the costume represents to you, don't buy it.  To force others not to have that option and interfere with private enterprise is truly scary.

When we moved back to Muskego in 1998 after a 7 hiatus, the common council decided to change the Trick or Treat hours and date to (who'd have thought) Halloween night, October 31st.  When it's dark.

I'll take that as a good omen we came back.

Since then Muskego deserves an 'atta boy' for doing October as it should be.  For starters, I'd recommend stopping by Basse's Country Delight for many reasons, the most important being that it's a family farm that is still operational just blocks from downtown.  And it hasn't fallen to a wrecking ball, front end loader and called some goofy name, home to 100 or so McMansions on 1/2 acre parcels.

Basse's is a delight when you walk up and walk in, abundant in the fruits of their labors, including pumpkins, apples, gourds, etc.  I feel like I am visiting a store in Cedarburg or points way north, and I'm happy to purchase whatever they have to offer in their rustic store.  Having a family whose roots are still firmly planted in Wisconsin soil and farming it as well, I feel a certain duty to support my local farmer. A recent trip had us spending only $22 to outfit the front yard for fall, complete with pumpkins, corn stalks about nine feet tall, and gourds. 

They even have their own website, http://bassescountrydelight.com/ which also gives a bit more information.

Also, if you've got a little time over the weekend, the third annual "Ghost Walk" sets the mood quite nicely, thank you. Co-sponsored by the Muskego Players (yep, a theatre group - who knew?) and the Muskego Historical Society, tours begin at 7pm each night on Friday, Oct. 16 and Saturday, Oct. 17, with the last tour starting at 10:30.  More info is available at 414-322-3879 (Muskego Players hotline) or visit muskegohistory.org.

Finally, for those of us who want the real thing, the Muskego Public Library is again bringing in  paranormal investigator and author, Terry Fisk, on Thursday, October 22nd at 7 p.m.  I've had the pleasure of sitting in on previous years' presentations and they are very interesting and entertaining.

I'm sure there might be more out there, but these are my top 3 - despite the flakes you've been seeing, it is still EARLY fall, and I'd encourage you to take advantage of all the opportunities to celebrate it, right in your own hometown.

While I love summer with a passion, I can only let go of it because I know fall comes in its wake. 

And fall never disappoints.  It arrives on schedule and performs beautifully.  Recently, I decided to take the dogs down the trail after dark versus facing two neurotic canines who don't know what to do with their energy.

A bit breezy, the wind made the overhead lines moan...a bit creepy, but very fall.  And while the dogs laced back and forth across the trail, I kept hearing cries of what I had to guess were owls.  Similar to the scream of a hawk but a little softer around the edges, they were apparently discussing my presence in their twilight world.

Then my guess was confirmed. Silhouetted against a funky sky that was lit to the north by the lights of Hales Corners, I could see one - no, two - owls, squatting on a cross bar of the tall electric towers, nearest to the ground.  With their pointed ears, the barn owls looked more like chubby cats overseeing the fields and waiting for an unsuspecting rodent to make a run for it. No doubt they do this year-round, but for some reason, the symbol of the owl has always gone hand-in-hand with harvest moons and halloween.

I'm not quite sure how long I stood and watched them, but they soon grew bored of me, and one leapt off its perch, cruising gracefully over the field.  Not an easy feat for a bird that is short and squat, but the wingspan obviously compensates.

Prior to walking, I had probably been holding summer a little too close.  However these feathered sentinels of autumn reminded me the time for a new season was here, and there was no hitting the snooze button. Out of excuses and rationalization, I walked back to the car - a little chilled, but overall just right.