Thanks, But No Thanks
I'm no feminist, and I definitely wear a bra most days of the week, but I am fed up with men giving me their unsolicited advice or trying to force me into liberation. It happened on the track one day at the YMCA on Fortification Street. I was plodding along at my 5.5 mph pace minding my own business. Suddenly some jerk … oops, I mean strange man … ran up beside me and said, "You should lengthen out your stride," then ran on ahead. Look, buddy, I'm training for a marathon and being coached by a nationally ranked triathlon athlete; I don't need your advice. Needless to say, I didn't see the fellow again that evening. Why? After one measly mile, he headed inside to lift weights. I finished my six miles in record time while fuming over this meathead's comment.
We're Not Clueless
When we consider activism of the '60s and '70s, we think of the war on Vietnam with thousands of citizens flocking to the street with "Peace Not War" signs. Or we recall the Civil Rights Movement that snaked through the southern states. Seldom discussed these days was a call for a right not granted to many U.S. citizens, and the very ones dying in Vietnam: the right for 18-year-olds to vote.
Proud to be an American
We only lost three distribution spots due to our last issue, which offered dissenting views to the Iraqi War. We knew when we switched last issue's cover story at the last minute from the state of the crime debate in Jackson (which is now this issue's cover story) to the war, which was in its opening moments as we went to press, that we were courting controversy. But we also knew that we would not be true to our mission and our promise to our readers to be thought-provoking if we failed to take a more critical look at the build-up to the war as it was developing into the most important issue that most of us would be facing over these weeks—both intellectually and emotionally. We simply do not know how not to analyze the news, question dogma and exercise our right to free expression at every turn.
WAR: If Duty Calls
I managed to get through the weekend without watching any news coverage of the war or any television for that matter. Instead, I worked on my research proposal for class, and enjoyed a hike with my dogs and some good quality time with friends. It was good to "cleanse" my brain for awhile. The media covers the war minute by minute, and it seems as if this war has been going on for months. I wonder if Americans will grow to be disinterested and forget why we are fighting in the first place.
SPANN: The War Roller Coaster
Driving to work the day after Dubya officially declared war on Iraq, I was struck by a feeling of patriotism coupled with sadness. I noted the American flags plastered on bumpers and the ribbons on antennas swaying in the March wind as I sat in traffic along I-55 South. The morning had a surreal, bittersweet quality as I pondered whether everyone else was also listening to war updates on PRM. Call me callous, but until Monday, March 17, 2003, I hadn't really felt much one way or the other about Dubya's little war. I remember milling around the kitchen preparing dinner that evening while I listened to the president's address and the subsequent over-analysis. Suddenly, I felt a pang of recognition in my chest. Those afternoons spent sitting in the grill at Millsaps College watching Operation Desert Storm updates came flooding back to me. And for a moment, I even imagined my poor dad being pulled out of retirement to serve just one more tour with the 101st Airborne from Fort Campbell, Ky.
LADD: Talk About Freedom
Join another vigil for peace and safety of the troops Sunday, March 23, at 7 p.m. in front of the Eastland Courthouse on West Capitol Street downtown. This column is dedicated to Todd Allen, who showed up one day to help distribute the Jackson Free Press because he believes in our mission. He is a peace-lover and an Army chaplain who is now en route to the Middle East. Godspeed.
EVERS: ‘I Cannot Support This War'
I'm against the war. I think it's uncalled for, too expensive, and physically, mentally and economically not worth it. The president hasn't proved to me, yet, that we're justified going in and killing innocent people—not only Iraqi women and children, but Americans. Mothers, fathers, sons, daughters and brothers and sisters will have to fight a war that has not been proven necessary. I've been a Republican since the Nixon administration, but I don't agree with everything Republicans do, or everything Democrats do. Americans have the right to differ with their own party; they don't always have to sing the same tune or dance the same dance.
WIGGS: Give T-Shirts a Chance!
Does freedom of expression still exist in the U.S.? Mark Wiggs explores.
Marathon Woman
I'm doing a crazy thing this summer. It's a little bit self-serving, but mostly it could benefit a few million people that I will never meet. In January, I joined Team Diabetes, a fund-raising and awareness program sponsored by the American Diabetes Association for folks who want to train to run a full or half marathon while raising funds for the association. Yes, I'm gonna run a marathon. This time last year I believed that one should only run if being chased. Today, I'm already running nine miles. As I train over the next few months, my eyes are on one prize: the Kona Marathon in Hawaii. I am indeed traveling a great distance both physically and mentally to meet my destiny at the end of that finish line.
Gun Violence: A Public Health Issue?
With the United States under violent assault since Sept. 11, 2001, American citizens have reeled from the size and scope of the assault and wondered whether ours really is a kind and gentle nation. We don't understand the reasons for the attack; in fact, we profess to abhor violence. Are we, at heart, a kind and gentle nation?
WIGGS: Sweet Potato Power
<i>What one Jackson man gleans from the Sweet Potato madness. </i>
My mother and father each grew up with sisters and started off wanting some boys to balance the genealogical mix a bit. They wound up with four sons. "Be careful what you wish for," my mom was wont to say, especially stuck in the house late on a rainy afternoon with thrown objects whizzing through the air around her. With all those brothers around, my early years at home centered around sports (including our own fraternal version of studio wrestling in the living room), pranks on the unwary, eating everything in sight and other guy-type pursuits. Given these conditions, one might wonder where I first encountered any hint of feminine influence on my worldview. My mother was definitely outnumbered and, sad to admit, all of us guys ignored her good advice every once in a while.
BRUNO: Day of the Diva
From Delilah to Diana Ross, from Salome to Sade, and Helen of Troy to Madonna the Boy Toy, legendary, world-changing women have wielded their feminine power with greatness and relevance. But are they divas? Vanity, narcissism and ego have become synonymous with the word, but diva simply means "goddess." If you're a woman, you're a diva, and in the words of Diana "The Boss" Ross, "We is terrific."
Me and Willie Hoyt
Willie Hoyt was a character. My mom met him when I was in the fourth grade. My father had died a couple years earlier after a long illness, she was lonely, and Willie Hoyt, an enlisted man, was on leave from Vietnam. He was a smooth talker, extremely funny, and a heavy drinker and smoker who had been in the Army since before the Korean War where he had been on the front lines and been awarded a Silver Star. He'd watched his best friend die in Korea by his side. He'd had a tough childhood, never married, and never had kids of his own.
LADD: Hoofbeaters Make It Real
Remember the reception to honor the Murrah Hoofbeat staff Tuesday, March 4, from 4:30 p.m. to 6 p.m. at the Smith Robertson Museum and Cultural Center (downtown at 528 Bloom Street). Come have cookies and punch, and congratulate these young journalists.
WIGGS: From Contrails to Commitment
In the two days before the shuttle Columbia disintegrated and traced that awful sparkling arc across the Texas sky, I'd already been thinking about space. On Thursday, I'd read a Harper's article about the unthinkable catastrophe a relatively small asteroid hitting the Earth would cause. On Friday, I'd finished a National Geographic piece about the incomprehensible mystery of countless galaxies speeding throughout an expanding universe. The asteroid essay warned of the unavoidability of humankind's eventual extinction. The galaxy story spoke of humankind's daily discovery of additional star systems out at the edges of infinity. And then …
SPANN: The Wacky Professor Strikes Again
"Sweetie, what do you think of all these corporate scandals?" "Well, management guru Charles Handy would posit that …" Uh-oh! The Wacky Professor strikes again!
MARK WIGGS: Watching for ‘The Quiet American'
"Go see "The Quiet American" before the next war starts, if there's time, even if you have to leave Jackson in your gas-guzzling SUV to go where it's showing."
EDITORIAL: ‘Borrow and Spend' Misguided
Those two approaches would be:
There are two major common-sense approaches that could be taken in the short-term to help the United States come out of its current recession, while paying for a looming Iraqi invasion and the homeland security challenges that may result from what many are calling an "optional" war.
EDITORIAL: ‘The Children Must Be Saved"
Please call your legislator today. We can make a difference right now.
The Best of Times
<b>Editor's Note by Donna Ladd</b>
The other night I was sitting in my office about 10 p.m. It had been another one of those 12-hour days that we've put in several times a week since launching this magazine last Sept. 22. It was a quiet, peaceful work night that can only happen after the crazy light of day passes and the damned phone stops ringing.
GUEST OPINION: What Trent Lott and I Have in Common
"The last straw is an awesome thing," wrote columnist Deborah Mathis in the Arkansas Times in December. "So small. Seemingly so insignificant. Yet powerful enough to topple careers, ruin lives and break the camel's back. Trent Lott can now attest to the power of the last straw."
Life Lessons at the Honky Tonk
"Let's go to the redneck bar," Blondie exclaimed from the backseat of my car. Three of us had just enjoyed a girls' day out after feeding the cows and touring my friend's farm in Canton. A little window-shopping and some fine dining on the Square had rounded out the day when we decided to hightail it over to the honky-tonk on Highway 43. We threw inhibition to the wind as I accelerated and made a hard right toward the bar.
SPANN: Attitude Makes All the Difference
Somehow a white co-worker and I found ourselves talking about race relations. Sitting comfortably in my downtown Jackson office a year after the controversial state-flag vote, we joked about Mississippi rednecks and the Confederate flag-emblazoned halter tops we hoped to add to our wardrobes.
MINOR: Dixiecrats Ready to Walk Out
The following column by Bill Minor originally ran in the Times-Picayune on July 11, 1948.
South Toward Home
Coming of age in Neshoba County, I considered Jackson the big city. I loved standing in the seat of our long turquoise Chevrolet, my left hand curled around my Daddy's neck as we sped from Philadelphia to Jackson, either down the Trace or through Canton if he felt like driving faster. It was the 1960s, and Jackson was larger than I could imagine. We'd visit my brother's family on Queen Margaret Lane in West Jackson, a residential city street where I learned to ride a bicycle on pavement and chased the ice-cream man and splashed in a little above-ground pool. I loved going to the old Woolworth, amid the neon of Capitol Street, where my Daddy bought me a toy Santa one year that still sits on my mantle every December.
HIGHTOWER: Flowers in a Dark Winter
The politicians don't want to think about it, the media establishment has turned a blind eye to it, and the Bushites are trying to shout it down—but it's rising anyway, getting bigger and bigger all across the country.
SPANN: Woman's Birthright
Mars, Venus or whatever, men will never understand women. Think about it. From the beginning, the enigma of woman has been shrouded from man in a cloak of mystery. Eve was created while Adam slept. Wouldn't you know? Important work always gets done while men are sleeping. And I don't think he's missed that rib, yet.
HIGHTOWER: Voter-Owned Elections
What if our elections were "voter-owned," instead of being owned by the big money powers—would that make you feel better about voting?
Don't Believe The Urban Legends
Todd and I were out at Little Toyko one Friday night having dinner with two other couples. Politically, the left, right and the middle were amply represented among the six of us. So were various perceptions of Jackson. We were having one of those loud, aerobic conversations that bounce blissfully from topic to topic, probably annoying the heck out of the people around us. Our waitress seemed quietly, but distantly, bemused. Then one of our friends said something that made my neck hairs stand up.
WELLNESS: Bad To The Last Drip
Your throat feelslike a cross between sandpaper and raw meat. Your nose must be training for a marathon. A percussion section has taken over the inside of your head. Your cheeks are on fire. Yes, it's cold and flu season, which officially plagues us from November to March. Contrary to what your mother might say, cold weather doesn't cause our sniffles, but it does chase us indoors, giving us more opportunities to catch them from other people.