Author: cmkraack

  • Tools of Other Times

    Five dozen white salad plates, four dozen dessert plates, dozens of cheap forks, candle holders, three tubs for ice and canned drinks, red wine glasses, white wine glasses. Grandma’s embroidered tablecloth, a bride’s dark green tablecloth, crocheted dresser scarves made by a great uncle while tending bar in his lakeside tavern. Tools appropriate for other times

    Ornaments from the children’s tree, red plastic sleds, N-gauge train cars, a doll house made by great-grandpa, a toy china cabinet made for great-grandma, filling up shelves needing to be cleared. Prom dresses, a toddlers navy wool coat, a child’s silk Japanese jacket brought home from WWII, all worn by young girls and boys long grown or passed. The stuff of others’ memories kept in a basement closet alongside the extra vacuum and ironing board. 

    I claim ownership of the party tableware gathered for piano recitals, kids’ open houses, book launch parties and gatherings of all sorts. The shelves were a lending library for other’s bridal showers, small weddings, anniversary gatherings. We joked about saving trees and landfill space while piling clothes baskets full of glassware to travel a few miles. Sad to say farewell to the thought of a future soiree, but there’s enough in the upstairs cupboards to host small parties. 

    Thinking about what tools might be necessary or fun for the next decade makes the clearing less emotionally painful even if shoulders and back ache. It’s all about matching what you need with you carry forward. I don’t remember shedding tears when two briefcases went to a thrift shop or tailored suits headed to consignment. Still use one of the tote bags bought to replace the corporate stuff. To be honest I might still be wearing a few sweaters bought for the writing years. 

    Back to work.

  • Information Blast Zone

    A group of creative writers gathered for our annual retreat this weekend. A few of us had been local government news reporters and all of us are voracious followers of news media. For a second year, we admitted to not watching much national coverage or reading news that could be interesting. We frequently skipped the big stories which seemed redundant yet not very thorough. Like almost two-thirds of Americans, we are all tired of news.

    News sometimes appeared to be repurposed to be featured many times. You might read it in an online tonight, see in in print the next day, see the same copy in a second online newspaper a day later then featured on an electric media show. How old is the information? How important? How close to the information’s original offering is the rejiggered version. Hard to know.

    The 2023 Reuters Institute for the Study of Journalism found that Americans’ fatigue with news continues to climb. The Pew Research 2020 study reported that two-thirds of us feel that fatigue. Here’s Reuters current facts:

    • More than one in ten Americans report turning news off. 
    • 41% of women and 34% of men say that they sometimes, or often, avoid news. 
    • While the study is global, American specific data also show specific areas of fatigue including about one-third of participants staying away from news of the war in Ukraine, forty percent avoiding national politics and an equal percentage not watching coverage of social justice.

    There isn’t a lot of information offered about why the numbers are dropping except that news followers are staying within their chosen silos and going to news that is more comfort than challenging. If a viewer doesn’t like the Trump story, watch international news. If it is climate change coverage that is overwhelming, maybe the stock market is more interesting. And when all the breaking news color bands feel like a repeat of yesterday, maybe home remodeling shows or sports coverage or reality television provide a break. 

    Folks who study how Americans absorb news point to the 1980 CNN effect–broadcasting news twenty-four hour a day, seven days a week. If you hear a story once, you’re going to hear it possibly every hour, maybe half hour. The 2022 Berkley Economic Review called the CNN model a market failure intensifying conspicuous bias that results in inefficient coverage of other news. Policy makers and decision makers are impacted by the continuous messages.

    Jon Stewart’s observation may be the best. His opinion is that the 24/7 news cycle elevates the stakes of every moment putting the public in the “information blast zone.”  And there we get tired.

  • 80. Feels like 90.

    We were planning to have dinner outside and listen to a musical group. Should be an ideal evening with temps in the very low 80s. Even the mosquitos have called a partial truce. One bad apple in the perfect plan is humidity which is making 80 feel like 90. The second bad apple is a gradual lowering of Canadian wildfire smoke into Wisconsin’s Northern zones.  Iced tea will melt quickly, clothes will stick, and someone will begin coughing or wheezing. 

    The morning was excellent after a rough bunch of storms and rain cleaned out the atmosphere last night. Walking on a nearly empty beach at ten this morning with bright blue sky and sparkling water felt like a summer dream. The toddler with us, spending her first days of walking into very shallow Lake Michigan waters, celebrated with digging in the sand, pouring water on anything, jumping tiny waves with help from adults. Two hours for summer 2023 memories.

    That’s how the whole season has played out—like slurping a slug of pickle brine from your glass of lemonade. Do you dump the drink, try to add something in hopes of a more enjoyable beverage, or accept the situation?

    Or is the pickle brine just an emotional reminder of the true state of the bigger world—global warming and the U.S. state of unrest? Keeping to a summer theme is challenging and heading to dinner out with music in the background, even in sauna-like conditions could provide relief from week’s tensions.

    Then the heavens opened. Rain lashed against windows. Wind whipped flowers and trees. Thunder rumbled over the bay waters. Power went out at the restaurant. So, we ate leftovers at our kitchen table, talking and laughing at what the toddler was trying to say. Temperatures dropped to low 70s as storms disappeared. The gift of a typical summer experience. No pickle brine in the last of the lemonade.