Handyman genes were there, waiting to be used

My handyman genes may have only been dormant, contrary to my belief that I never inherited any from a long line of blue collar do-it-yourselfers.

Growing up, I avoided anything requiring mechanical skills, mainly because my dad was an electrician by profession and a jack-of-all-trades by skill. If I ever needed anything built or something, like a 1979 Pontiac Sunbird, fixed, I relied on him to do it for me. “Why try something I know he can do better?” I thought.

And then he died when I was 21.

Since then it’s been a slow learning experience. I couldn’t turn to him when I had a problem. If my car broke down, I looked at it myself to formulate a little something about what the problem might be so when I took it to the shop I could sound reasonably intelligent. If I needed to assemble a furniture item I bought, I carefully studied the confusing instructions and then painstakingly tried to figure it out. For the most part I’ve been successful in that endeavor, although my wife likes to point to the upside down shelf in my son’s bookcase whenever I try to brag about my “assembly” skills.

I’ve managed to avoid any home projects requiring a major power tool, though, until this past weekend.

With the upcoming arrival of a new addition to the household, my wife developed a vision for the baby’s room. This vision did not just involve paint, which is something that I don’t get along with well. It involved refinishing an antique dresser and hanging chair rail, two projects I would never have fathomed tackling if given an option. My wife’s vision doesn’t come with options, as any married man probably understands.

I started the dresser project more than a month ago. After watching some YouTube videos, which I declare to be the greatest thing to happen to the home project industry since duct tape, I bought the supplies I needed and then started sanding the finish off the dresser.

It was time consuming but fun. The person at the hardware store recommended me to try some chemical that could strip it for me. I should have known that getting an outer layer off is never that easy. It requires patience, time and some sweet talk, all of which I was able to do and have while using a sander.

After it was completely sanded, I put on several coats of stain and several coats of some polyurethane to finish it. For the most part, I was successful. There are some spots where the stain was darker than it should have been, and in a few spots some dripping spots are noticeable, but I was happy to get it done. It’s also a little rougher than it probably could be, but both my wife and I thought it was good enough for a first time. Next time I won’t get this leniency.

The chair rail project was the one I feared more. Leniency wasn’t an option, and goofing up could mean spending more money than I wanted to spend.

I got some advice from a friend who also lent me his miter saw. When he explained how to use the saw, I just kept envisioning it removing one of my thumbs or fingers. “Doctors can sew them back on,” I kept thinking.

I could have asked him to help me with the project, but I knew I wanted to learn on my own. I carefully measured, thought out my cuts and then determined where to place the board and where to nail it so I hit the studs in the wall. When all this was done, with my wife’s help, I hung my first board – successfully.

Doing so inspired a victory dance. Fortunately my home project skills were better than my dancing abilities in this case.

My wife kept all her MacGyveresque friends and relatives informed about progress throughout the day by texting them. They were greatly amused. I didn’t mind, though, because it wasn’t a disaster.

My next project, a basement pantry, may be, though. I’ll have to remember to take the battery out of her phone.

****

Originally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, June 8, 2012.

Putting Jim Schuh on toilet is place he didn’t want to go

Jim Schuh is on the toilet. Jim Schuh is in the toilet.


The first sentence has one meaning: Jim Schuh is sitting on the toilet, taking care of Mother Nature’s business. But the second sentence could have multiple meanings: he could simply be in the bathroom, maybe on the toilet or maybe doing something else; or, if taken literally, some part of him like his foot, head or arm could be in the toilet. If it’s a giant toilet, then maybe his whole self could actually be in the toilet.

I bring this up following an email discussion Jim and I had earlier this week after he corrected me for a change I made to his column in last week’s Gazette.

Originally, Jim sent the column to me with a phrase stating that political robo calls often come to him when he’s “in the toilet.”

Nobody I know uses that phrase. Instead, they usually say “in the bathroom” or “in the restroom.” Assuming that if he had meant to say that, he would have used one of those phrases, I figured he must have meant that he was “on the toilet.” Because he often likes to make fun of himself in his column, and because his subject matter – political robo calls – was one that is even a step below normal bathroom humor, I made the editorial decision to put Jim Schuh on the toilet.

I don’t normally like to imagine Jim Schuh on the toilet, but in this case picturing him taking a political robo call on the toilet was really funny. It would be funny imagining anybody on the toilet taking such a call, but someone with his personality is especially funny.

Jim did not want to be on the toilet. He simply wanted to be in the bathroom. He said the corrected version made his comment seem more explicit than he intended.

I told Jim that being “on the toilet” may be the perfect place to take such phone calls.

He pointed out that in societies other than the U.S., “in the toilet” is quite prevalent. “It means being in what we Americans (as wusses) refer to as the ‘restroom.’ Nobody rests there – they relieve themselves. The word ‘toilet’ is somehow anathema to Americans, but for no good reason,” he responded.

That may be the case, but lest he forget, this is the U.S. And because it is, I put Jim Schuh on the toilet, and not in it.

Knowing Jim well enough, I’m pretty sure that my editorial decision didn’t put me “in the toilet” with him, although I wouldn’t be surprised if he finds a way to put me on one. He’s already tried, as he suggested I go “in the toilet” with a laptop to write this column – after I warned him I would – to give it real authenticity.

I’m not going to do that, mainly because I live in 2012 and use an iPad rather than a laptop. But using it “on the toilet” “in the bathroom” might rightfully disgust my wife, who has the power to put me “in the doghouse.” That’s a place no guy ever wants to be, and it’s a place I never want to write about in a future column.
****
Originally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, June 1, 2012.

Some gardeners may need to become plant whisperers to succeed

I am a master gardener.

Or at least I’d like to think I am after my first real foray into gardening this past weekend. My six-months-pregnant wife, Jenny, and I installed flower beds in front of our home, planting a large number of perennials to add some curb appeal to a yard that had been full of weeds just a month ago before we had a lawn planted.

The lawn is slowly growing – Mother Nature, we could use some rain – and edging has been placed all around the house as preparation for flower gardens.

I’ll admit I know little to nothing about planting flowers, vegetables, trees or any other growth that require water, sun and possibly a “whisperer” who will talk them into becoming full, colorful and vibrant. I’m just starting to understand the difference between a perennial and an annual, although I think better words could have been chosen for each as annual, to me at least, suggests it will come up annually.

It’s funny I know little about plants, because through high school and college I worked at Walmart in my hometown and spent hundreds of hours working in the lawn and garden department, advising people about the plants they wished to purchase. I knew nothing, but the customers didn’t know that, so I just told them what they wanted to hear. “Does this plant require a lot of sun, because it would go in a location without much sun?” someone might ask. “No, not much at all. You’d be fine getting it,” I replied. I’m sure a lot of plants probably died due to my advice.

My work experience there allowed me to hate plants. They came in by the truckload, and people bought them just as quickly. I spent hours moving them from one bin to the next, in order to make room for the next shipment, and just as many hours piling up bags of soil and manure that required just as much movement. Looking back now, it probably was fun, but back then I cursed every plant I saw. My harsh words probably killed many more plants.

Fast forward seven years to our first house in Wautoma. The plants were already there, so we didn’t have much to do to spruce it up. I remember planting a few, but Jenny took care of it as I tried not to kill them. We planted a vegetable garden, but it didn’t do well. Other then a few peas, tomatoes and some lettuce, most vegetables never made it to anybody’s stomach. They probably died because I looked at them wrong.

These flower gardens will be different. Scott “The Plant Killer” Steuck is hopefully dead, replaced by Scott “Plants Are His Friends” Steuck. We spent a great deal of time putting down yard fabric, selecting a wide variety of different plants from nearly every greenhouse in the Stevens Point/Plover area, and then planting them in specific locations in front of our house. All led to my favorite part of the endeavor: placing mulch. I discovered I love the smell of mulch, and hauling it from the truck to the flower gardens in my new wheelbarrow was a blast. In my next life, I’m going to be that guy who only does that for a living.

I’m also talking to the plants, and I think they are responding. “This guy seems rather simple,” they are probably thinking. “He’d probably be easily amused if we became full, colorful and vibrant.”

Time will judge as to whether or not I can also be called a plant whisperer.

****

Originally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, May 25, 2012.

‘Avengers’ sequel could make politicians superheroes

Marvel’s “The Avengers” is making millions at the box office, and deservedly so because it’s worth every over-inflated cent you’ll pay for the movie theater experience. Bringing a bunch of great superheroes together, the film has already been given the green light for a sequel.


Instead of Iron Man, Thor, Captain America, Black Widow and Hulk in the sequel, I’d like to suggest one with some lesser known superheroes: politicians.

The film could include all the big names nationally from all political parties: President Barack Obama, as well as all of our living former presidents; all those who ran for president this year, including Gov. Mitt Romney, Sen. Newt Gingrich, Ron Paul and Rep. Michele Bachmann; Rep. John Boehner, Speaker of the House; and Sen. Harry Reid, Senate Majority Leader.

It would also include some of the more local ones: former governors Tommy Thompson and Jim Doyle, Sen. Herb Kohl and former senator Russ Feingold.

Leading the team would be Scott Walker, Wisconsin’s current governor for at least the next three weeks.

I know putting all these people on the same team seems more fiction than the current “Avengers” film in the theaters – one which features the superheroes battling foes from elsewhere in the universe – but that’s what makes it brilliant. It would portray something nobody ever thought possible: political teamwork.

Their nemeses would not be the American public, as it seems to be in real life, but just a bunch of cool villains that would make for seemingly impossible opposition. My list of villains for this film, which is my creation right now, would be Darth Vader, because he’s the ultimate villain; John Kreese, the evil sensei from “The Karate Kid” films who is the ultimate bad-ass; Kurgan, the ultimate underrated villain from the first “Highlander” film; the shark from “Jaws,” because it’s the ultimate revenge-seeking fish; and Freddy Krueger from the “Nightmare on Elm Street” series who is the ultimate horror film villain.

Defeating this team of villains would be difficult. Vader has the Dark Side behind him, Kreese relies on cheap tactics such as leg sweeps, Kurgan is good at chopping people’s heads off, the shark always seems to come back no matter how many times it is killed, and Krueger will terrorize people in their dreams.

It will take a good plan and lots of teamwork by this team of politicians to defeat these villains. Each politician will have to search deep to find the innermost strength they can offer in the battle, and all of those strengths will have to be used to their fullest potential to find the solution to win the fight.

While finding such strengths will be impossibly difficult, as politicians haven’t demonstrated this ability in years, maybe decades, the fact they have to work with people they don’t agree with will probably be the more difficult task. Normal people have been doing it forever, but politicians are a special breed who decided long ago they are not going to work nicely with people who have differing ideas. Compromise is a fictional word in their world.

In my “Avengers” sequel, the politicians would defeat the villains, mainly because nobody wants to see an ending in which the bad guys win.

While my idea for a film will never come to fruition, the politicians could attempt to recreate it in real life. Instead of ultimate villains, though, they would focus their attention on some of the real-world issues every one of us faces. Each one would determine their strengths and how they use them as best as possible, and then they could cross party lines to work nicely with the people who should all have a common goal of improving this country.

I know such a film probably isn’t in the cards anytime soon. But like “The Avengers,” maybe someday it will get made.
****
Originally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, May 18, 2012.

Never Forgotten Honor Flight perfects the day for veterans, many others.

I’ve never served in the military, and at 37 years old I never will. But on Monday, May 7, I came as close as I ever will to the experience, or at least to the very best part of the experience. As a media representative, I traveled with 89 veterans and their guardians, some of them veterans themselves, to Washington, D.C., as part of the Never Forgotten Honor Flight.

To say it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience would be to understate it, as little I do for the rest of my life will compare to what I saw, heard and felt during this trip.

The mission of the Never Forgotten Honor Flight is to take as many central Wisconsin World War II and now also Korean War veterans to Washington, D.C., for a one-day trip that will allow them to see the many national memorials in their honor, including the World War II, Korean War, Vietnam War, Air Force and Iwo Jima memorials.

The trip is designed to be like their tours of duty, minus all the bad parts. It begins with a send-off dinner the night before featuring entertainment authentic of the era, continues the next day with the flight and arrival in Washington, D.C., to an applauding audience at the airport and the tour of the many memorial sites, and ends with mail-call on the flight home and a “Welcome Home” ceremony that probably bested the ones they received more than 50 years ago.

I was among the many who watched news coverage of previous Honor Flights in central Wisconsin and thought it must be a life-changing experience for all people going on it, including the guardians who accompanied them. When Mike Thompson and Jim Campbell, some of the founders of the flight, contacted me last fall to ask if I’d like to go on it as a media representative, I was stunned, not believing this opportunity even existed.

It did, and after applying for the honor, I learned last month I’d be going on the May 7 flight. Whatever else may have been on my schedule that day was pushed aside when I learned I’d be going.

The month went past quickly, so much so that I didn’t even have a chance to tell many of my relatives about it. Now that I’m back, though, I plan on telling everybody I can about it.

With the experience of seven flights behind them, including one just two weeks ago, the 15-member Never Forgotten Honor Flight Board of Directors and their many volunteers have put together a smooth operation. During an hour-and-a-half long training session the day before, guardians accompanying veterans learn about all of their responsibilities on the trip, and everything they need to know to help make it successful. All people taking the flight are given a specific-colored polo shirt and jacket – green for guardians and yellow for veterans – and a hat and fanny pack as part of their registration material, as well as orders to ensure the flight takes off on time at 6:30 p.m. from the Central Wisconsin Airport in Mosinee.

The flight took off on schedule, and the two-hour trip in the air was smooth. One Korean war veteran had issues with his pacemaker and had to be taken to the hospital upon arrival at Reagan National Airport, but he rejoined the group later in the day after receiving treatment. “Darn pacemaker,” he told me after I asked how he was holding up. “But I’m glad to be back.”

Even the hardiest of travelers would have been worn out by the itinerary, as it included stops at the World War II Memorial; Korean, Vietnam and Lincoln memorials; the Air Force Memorial; Arlington National Cemetery to see the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier; Iwo Jima memorial; and a bus tour of the city. For heroes in their 80s and 90s, this trip should have been grueling, but all of them easily made it through the day without any bad incidents.

In fact, the tour stayed on schedule until Arlington National Cemetery. The delay there was understandable, though, as one of the guards came out and talked to the group and answered questions about his responsibilities for 15 minutes. Those guards don’t normally do this, but as Sgt. Vincent told them, it was a privilege to be able to do so for these veterans.

I talked to many of the veterans and learned their stories during the trip, including a few I wrote about in the page one story in this week’s paper, but it was the very last guy I talked to that was the most powerful. At the end of the day, a volunteer from Washington, D.C., had to leave the group and she asked if I could wheel him through the airport. This Korean War Navy veteran, John Mayer of Mosinee, couldn’t stop talking about how incredible the experience was. “I hope to have a glass of beer when I get home to complete a perfect day,” he said.

The scene at the airport back home was chaotic, with more than a thousand people there to greet them in a rousing fashion. I didn’t find Mayer in all the commotion, but I’m betting he didn’t need the beer to make his day perfect after receiving such a reception. I’m sure all 89 veterans, as well as all of us who accompanied them, had such a day.

****

Originally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, May 11, 2012.

UW-SP class goes beyond the norm, offers superb learning model for students

Per Henningsgaard stands in front of the classroom, looking more Billie Jo Armstrong of Green Day than Sting, for those of us who humanize professors by comparing them to rock stars.


But the words out of his mouth are more Sting – a former English teacher – than Armstrong – a high school dropout. “For those of you who don’t like to do work, this class isn’t for you,” Henningsgaard warns students in his English 349/549: Editing and Publishing class at the University of Wisconsin-Stevens Point (UW-SP) on the first day. “You will work harder in this class than any other you take at UW-SP.”

After taking the class for my graduate studies, I’d agree with him. Students spend a lot of time doing work for the class, and any slacking off can have grave repercussions to the end mission, which the whole class strives to reach.

That end mission is a book, as the class staffs Cornerstone Press, UW-SP’s publishing house, during the semester, and it is responsible for publishing one by the time finals begin. Each student becomes an “employee,” with each required to take on a role that corresponds to an actual job at a publishing house. Students vie for roles early in the semester, with classmates selecting who fills them through an election process.

I sought out the role of publicity manager, as it would give me experience in public relations, which is the focus of my graduate studies in the Department of Communication. Substance editor and copy editor positions would have been more logical choices for me, given my editorial role at The Gazette. I do those jobs on a daily basis at the newspaper, though, and wanted to get experience in an area that I don’t have much in. Because I interact with public relations practitioners on an almost daily basis, I realized knowing how they operate could be beneficial to my current job.

As a class, our first task was to select a manuscript. We received more than two dozen to choose from, including books of poems, guidebooks, essay collections and a variety of novels in several different genres.

For me, selecting a manuscript was the best part of the process. I enjoyed reading what authors submitted – including the ones that weren’t so good – and thinking about the possibilities of what each manuscript would look like as a finished product. In the end, the class selected the manuscript I most wanted published, “Syncopation: A Memoir of Adèle Hugo,” written by Elizabeth Caulfield Felt, an associate lecturer in English at UW-SP.

To tout the book, it’s a historical fiction novel about poet and playwright Victor Hugo’s daughter Adèle, a woman in real life who was committed to a mental hospital. Felt uses known facts, combined with some fiction to show readers how Adèle may have gotten to this place in her life. She does so in an exciting, and literate, manner in a book I believe any local book clubs would be wise to select (Felt is willing to meet with any book clubs to talk about the novel; it’s not often the author is available to do that).

Getting back to the class, though, students were required to work a minimum of 2.5 hours each week outside of the classroom on job duties related to the book’s publication, although most of us probably spent many more each week. The majority of my time was spent writing press releases, contacting other media about the book, and meeting with the marketing team to come up with interesting ways to promote the book. People may have noted “Syncopation” written on chalk throughout this community, as well as several others. That guerilla marketing technique was a way for us to promote the book.

In addition to our roles with the publishing house, we had other homework related to book publishing but separate from Cornerstone. Each student was required to write a letter to one of the rejected authors explaining the good points about his or her manuscript, as well as the area that needed improvement; and each student had to design and copy edit a short manuscript from another source. Both were fun, but time-consuming projects.

Taking a class where the work we did generated actual results was eye-opening. It’s a model every class should strive for, as it reaches beyond what one normally learns in an English class and offers valuable skill-building tools, such as communication, teamwork and the ability to meet deadlines.

I’m still struggling with the deadline thing, though. That’s relatively new to me.
****
Originally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, May 4, 2012.

Weight race wasn’t successful for every person taking challenge

I don’t fail often, but my attempt at the Community Weight Race was a spectacular disaster for me.


I entered in late January, along with 924 other people in Ministry Health Care’s fifth annual race, with a goal of losing 30 pounds. My hope was to get to a weight I had only been once in my adult life.

Previous to entering, I had lost 50 pounds over the course of 18 months, dropping from 310 to 260 pounds. I ran daily, I ate well and I made good choices. The race would motivate me to do these things better, so I thought.

Not so. The minute I entered a little voice in the back of my head told me to stop trying. “You don’t want to run today, and you want to eat that delicious donut,” it kept telling me. “Mmmm… donut,” I replied.

I’m not a competitive person, so the prizes Ministry was giving away to the people and teams who lost the most weight didn’t motivate me. I was doing this for myself, plain and simple.

“Myself” wanted other things, though, like the desire to bathe in laziness and the opportunity to eat cookies at every chance that came along. I partly blame the Girl Scouts and their annual sale.

I also blamed my graduate studies, and the guy taking my final weight last week, which was 10 pounds more than I started, said it should be a “free pass.” It’s tempting to take the pass, but the blame solely belongs to me. I wasn’t motivated and let other things take precedence.

Another member of my team did much better than me. Matthew Brown, an associate editor at The Gazette, lost 13 pounds during the contest, which was only three short of his 16-pound goal. He worked out, ate right and played a lot of indoor soccer during the duration of the race, noting the soccer was what allowed him to do well.

Overall, most people in the contest succeeded, with the average weight loss during the three-month race being 5.78-percent of body weight.

I have no idea how the other three members of my team did. At the halfway mark, I emailed them to see how they were doing, and none of them responded. Their lack of response indicated to me that they had either dropped out or they weren’t doing well.

It would be easy for me to not write about this, as I definitely would rather write about something else, but, as many of you know, the attempt to lose weight can often be a failure, such as my attempt.

Instead of ignoring it, though, I want people to know that failure does occur, and it should be used as motivation to succeed. I’m hoping my failure will be a catalyst to put me on the right track, especially since I know tomorrow will be a great day for a run.
****
Originally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, April 27, 2012.