What does it mean to be a real man?

Zefram Cochrane, the fictional character from “Star Trek: First Contact,” was quoted as saying “Don’t try to be a great man, just be a man.”

With New Year’s Day coming up Sunday, I thought I’d look at manhood and what it means to be a man. A new year bring new beginnings and also reaffirmations of things that are right and just. In this woke age of gender fluidity, it’s time to erase this make-believe nonsense and to commit to being what God intended.

Since I am a man and don’t feel comfortable speaking for women, my focus is on my gender. Anyone who believes there are more than two genders can stop reading now and go to the library to check out books on human biology.

Technically, all adult males are men. Our society, however, has a different definition of manliness. A real, red-blooded, American man is John Wayne, Gen. George Patton, the pre-Governator Arnold Schwarzenegger, or the fictional Col. Miles Quaritch, the tough, scar-faced Marine played by Stephen Lang in the movie “Avatar.”

They say a real man is tough, strong, stalwart and unbendable. A real man is all of those things and none of those things. A real man is tough, but he is also vulnerable and has a soft heart. A real man is strong, but he is also humble and meek. A real man is stalwart, but he is also thoughtful and tender. A real man is unbendable, but he is also flexible.

To truly be a real man, one must first be a follower of Jesus and have a heart modeled after God’s own heart. He is resolute in his beliefs and has a passion for compassion. A real man is tough in that he can defend his beliefs and can take criticism. He proves he is tough not by what he can do, but by what he does not do. A tough man does not give in or is easily moved.

Underneath his tough exterior is something worth protecting. It is a loving, tender heart. It is a man who is willing to be vulnerable and to open himself up to the wants and needs of his family, his loved ones, and those who cannot fend for themselves. His toughness is like the shell that protects the egg inside.

A strong man is not necessarily muscular or powerful. Physical strength is what most of us think of when we define “strong.” A true strong man is one unyielding in his values and beliefs. He is humble before God and leads with the heart and attitude of a servant. A strong man puts others before himself. He uses his strength to help other people. He is mentally and emotionally strong and dependable.

The stalwart and unbendable man tends to be one and the same. They are firm and unyielding. Those are good traits when it comes to beliefs and values such as truth, honesty and integrity. There are times, however, when even the most stalwart man must learn to be flexible, understanding and willing to yield. No man is perfect and the man who will not own up to his faults and mistakes is not worth a lick.

A real man will learn to listen to all sides of an issue and try to put himself in the shoes of the other person. He will be kind and understanding. He will not be so inflexible that others cannot work with him. In his my-way-or-the-highway world, you’re better off hitting the road.

In the same light, a real father is one who will give up a round of golf to play catch. A real father allows mistakes but disciplines disobedience. He shares his time, his cookies, and his glass of iced tea on a hot, summer day. He reads more than he watches; encourages more than he discourages; slays dragons and vanquishes monsters from closets; compliments more than critiques; gives without taking; loves his wife and children unconditionally; and prays for and with his family every day.

I’ll be the first to admit that I fail at this as much or more than I succeed. But each day I strive to meet this standard and to be a better man than I was when I went to bed the night before. I battle my demons and strive to win the day for my God and my family. They are the only ones who will determine whether or not I succeed. That is a measure I cannot gauge for myself. After all, my life is not about me. It’s about my service to God, my family, and those whose lives I touch, no matter how briefly.

Those things may not make me a great man in the eyes of the world, but I hope it will mean the world to those whose eyes are on me. A real man couldn’t ask for anything more.

(Portions of this column first appeared in June 2011 in the Walller County News Citizen. Joe Southern is the managing editor of the Wharton Journal-Spectator and the East Bernard Express. He can be reached at news@journal-spectator.com.)

What is WISD’s O’Guin trying to hide?

This is not the column I wanted to write. This is a column I feel I have to write.

In the year that I’ve been here I’ve been juggling polarizing perspectives on the Wharton Independent School District. If you ask most people around town, they’ll tell you the district is a dumpster fire. Low test scores, a mismanaged bond program, student violence, disciplinary problems, teachers and students leaving in droves for other districts, etc. There is a long list of problems within WISD. There are also those who say WISD is a great district with a bad rap.

In the past I have come out in defense of Superintendent Dr. Michael O’Guin Sr. When it seems the world is against him, he soldiers on and does what he feels is in the best interest of the students and the district to right this ship. He inherited this hot mess two and a half years ago and then had to struggle through the COVID-19 pandemic just as he was starting.

He is not in an enviable position, but I do believe the district is slowly making progress under his leadership. That’s one of the reasons this column is so hard to write. Although we generally get along, he and I have been at loggerheads over public information and public’s right to know what’s going on in the district.

I cringe every time I hear him say he tries to be as “open and transparent” as he can be – and he says that a lot. My experience says that is absolutely not true. In my 35 years in this business, I have dealt with many school districts and even more superintendents across four states and when it comes to disclosing public information, he is one of the worst. This is especially true when it comes to anything that can be perceived as negative information.

From the locker room fight in 2021 to the Wharton High School stabbing this year and a handful of incidences in between, O’Guin has issued vague “press releases” in which he usually concludes that the district “will refrain from commenting further.” When a public official refuses to comment, that usually means he or she has something to hide. That is always a red flag to a journalist that information is being withheld and it’s time to start digging.

The most recent incident came last week when news broke about the arrest of Donna Plunkett, a teacher’s aide at Sivells Elementary School who was fired by the district and arrested for allegedly abusing special needs students. In his statement about the case, O’Guin said another teacher has been fired and that an arrest was pending. He never gave names, dates or even allegations. A statement would not have been given at all had a TV journalist not brought it to light.

I had a lot of questions about the case and emailed them to O’Guin and WISD Police Chief Landy Williams. I also called and left a message for Chief Williams. So far he has not called back nor replied to my emails. Dr. O’Guin and I did have an email exchange in which he adamantly refused to answer any of my questions. That prompted me to make a formal Freedom of Information Act request for Plunkett’s arrest record and that of anyone else involved in the case.

An arrest record is indisputably a public record and should be made immediately available. O’Guin replied that he has 10 business days in which to respond, which, by law, he does. Assuming he takes all 10 days, I should be getting the records on Dec. 22. That is utterly ridiculous.

I don’t know what he hopes to gain by withholding public records, but it only makes him look bad and, when one story would have been enough, it will now result in two or more stories spread out over several weeks as I’m forced to dig into this. That just keeps it in the news that much longer and casts a suspicious shadow across himself and the district.

Another disagreement we have is over the use of the consent agenda at school board meetings. A consent agenda is the grouping of routine, non-controversial board actions – such as the approval of minutes, paying bills, accepting reports, etc. – for one vote. It’s my opinion that the consent agendas he and board president Curtis Evans put together are used to hide things they don’t want to discuss in an open forum.

O’Guin has placed things like teacher pay incentives, the district improvement plan, approval of new course offerings at the high school, and much more on the consent agenda. My experience says those things are not routine and should be discussed by the board in an open meeting.

The trustees caught him once when he placed the purchase of a new video scoreboard at the football stadium using bond funds to pay for it in the consent agenda. They pulled it out and voted it down. This Thursday board members requested two items to be pulled for separate action.

Frequently whenever a board member requests that something be pulled for discussion, he admonishes them saying that they discussed it in private or could have discussed it privately rather than taking time to do it in the meeting.

When O’Guin and I discussed the consent agenda, he said more and more things will be added to it. That’s because of the Lone Star Governance program, through which a certain percent of the board meeting time is to be spent working on student outcomes. While that’s a noble goal, you can’t just gloss over the use of taxpayer money for the sake of time spent at a meeting. There needs to be public scrutiny and accountability.

These are not the actions of someone who is truly “open and transparent.” True openness involves sharing information and inviting questions. It means freely providing public information regardless if it’s perceived as good, bad, or indifferent.

Like I said, I like Dr. O’Guin and it pains me to have to write this but his actions need to come to light.

Another reason I don’t want to write this is because today (Saturday) is my anniversary and I was originally planning to brag about my wonderful wife and the great marriage we have.

Happy anniversary, Sandy! I love you!

Joe Southern is the managing editor of the Wharton Journal-Spectator and the East Bernard Express. He can be reached at news@journal-spectator.com.

Honoring the supermen who went to the moon

This is an abridged version of a column I wrote in 2017 after the death of Apollo 17 commander Gene Cernan. This weekend we celebrate the 50th anniversary of the last manned mission to the moon.

I walked among the gods, the superhuman beings in the aging shells of mortal men who touched the face of God.

Gathered at St. Martin’s Episcopal Church in Houston to pay their final respects to one of their own, these heroes of old shone brightly beneath the veneer of mourners’ garb and the thin, gray hair that betrays their age and mortality.

I was but a trespasser, a lone interloper stealing a moment in time among the great and powerful men who broke the bonds of earth and traipsed among the heavens. I didn’t belong with them but there I was, nearly indistinguishable among the distinguished. These men rode giant, thunderous rockets, floated in the vast void of nothingness and placed their footprints in the gray, powdery dust of another world.

What they accomplished, they did for all mankind. They are a dwindling fraternity of space pioneers who traveled where no one had gone before or since. They were united once again to memorialize Capt. Gene Cernan, the 11th of their ranks to step upon the moon and the last to leave it.

The funeral service for Cernan was open to the public, so I came, appearing staid and sorrowful yet wide-eyed with wonder. I was but a lad in my single-digit years when these men went to the moon. Their adventures were my adventures. Too young to fully appreciate what they were doing, I grew up with an ever-deepening respect of not only the astronauts themselves but also the countless men and women who worked tirelessly on the ground to propel these mighty men on a journey through space and history.

I am blessed to have two of these ground-based warriors as my in-laws. I’ve been privileged to have met and interviewed many who worked at NASA during the Mercury, Gemini and Apollo eras, as well as those who shuttled to low-earth orbit.

What these adventurous space pioneers accomplished, they did out of a dream turned goal turned reality. I’m but a lowly chronicler — a watcher, not a doer. Yet in watching, I do. My dream turned goal was to meet as many of the surviving moonwalkers as I could.

I realized in 2012 when Neil Armstrong died that time was getting short. I made a goal to write a story about the men on the moon. It was an excuse to at least reach out and try to meet them before they were all gone. Then, on Jan. 16, Cernan slipped the bonds of earth a fourth and final time as his spirit soared back into the heavens.

That created even more urgency — and an opportunity. His funeral service would be nearby and open to the public. I knew many of his fellow spacemen would be there. I arrived early. Although hundreds of people attended the funeral, very few seemed to be from the general public. Most knew him. I only knew of him. I took a seat in the first pew that was not reserved.

As the service started, the world about me changed. Sunlight streaming through the ornate stained-glass windows slowly crawled across the sanctuary, alternately painting with vibrant colors and splashing bright light. It was as if the heavens were beckoning Cernan home.

As the speakers began to recount Cernan’s life and their portion of his journey with him, a new realization washed over me like the sunlight’s luminescent beams: I don’t belong here. This isn’t some public ceremony, this is a funeral and these are close family and friends. They are not paying tribute to some great historical figure, they are saying goodbye to a husband, father, grandfather and friend.

As Fox News anchorman Neil Cavuto, Apollo 13 Commander James Lovell, and retired Navy Commander Fred “Baldy” Baldwin spoke and the Rev. Dr. Russell Levenson Jr. gave the homily, it became apparent that I was privy to the private side of a public man. This was as “inside” as an average man could get to these rare and mighty men.

As the service ended, a new feeling washed over me. I do belong. I may not be one of them or part of the family, but Cernan’s extended family was all mankind. He knew and understood that by walking on the moon, that he and the 11 others went there for all mankind. History demanded that they forever be shared with the billions of us who will never do what they did. He was a man of the people and I represented the people.

After the service, as the crowd filed out of the sanctuary for the reception, I became star struck. Walking by me were many of the men I had idolized and longed to meet. Some I had met before and many others were distant legends.
I followed them to the reception hall. There, I ate their cookies and drank their coffee and wondered among these aging stars. I felt simultaneously at home and out of place.

They all knew each other. They talked and hugged and laughed and shared stories and caught up on what one another was doing now. Buzz Aldrin, the second man on the moon, was holding court, jovially visiting with a circle of friends. Next to him was Harrison Schmitt, the 12th man on the moon and Cernan’s moonwalking partner. I couldn’t resist but to casually stroll between them.

Everywhere I turned I encountered another historical figure. All but one surviving moonwalker was there: Aldrin, Schmitt, Alan Bean, Dave Scott and Charlie Duke. Only John Young was missing. Several others who had flown on Gemini and Apollo missions were present, including Lovell, Walt Cunningham, Fred Haise, Tom Stafford, and Michael Collins. Flight directors Gene Kranz, Glynn Lunney, Gerry Griffin, and Milt Windler were there along with NASA Administrator Charles Bolden, JSC Director Ellen Ochoa and former Deputy Administrator Dava Newman. There were many others from the NASA family present than I can recall or recognize.

Now, days later, I find myself transfixed on that moment in time when I walked among these gods of history and space and realize that someday the time will come for each of us to be released from our mortal bonds and then we too can reach out to the stars and touch the face of God.

The past year in Wharton has been interesting

This marks my first work anniversary with the Wharton Journal-Spectator and the East Bernard Express.

While one year may not seem that long, it apparently is looking back at my resume. Of the 14 newspapers I have worked for in the last 35 years, I was with five of them for less than a year. Two of them I left willingly, two I didn’t, and one was a two-month interim position during the pandemic.

My longest tenure was the nine years I spent at my hometown newspaper, the Longmont Daily Times-Call in Colorado. I spent seven hellish years at a daily paper in North Carolina, two years at a weekly in Minnesota, and the rest of the time here in Texas. I’ve had two two-year stints in Sealy, separated by three years at the Fort Bend Star in Sugar Land.

I don’t need to share my entire resume to say that my time here in Wharton County has been interesting. I’ve met some real characters and made some good friends and both are often the same. Wharton is a unique place and I’m enjoying getting to know it and the wonderfully colorful people who populate it. Like I said in one of my first columns after I arrived here, this is one of the warmest, most welcoming places I’ve been to.

To be sure there have been some people here that noted pastor and author Rick Warren would refer to as EGRs (extra grace required), but you get that anywhere you go. I’m sure there are more than a few people who would consider me an EGR. I can be stubborn, forgetful, and often oblivious to what’s going on around me. I can also be forgetful.

One of the things I’ve learned about Wharton is that the community is very proud of its history. One of the more notable historic events to happen here is what local historian and author Dr. Gregg Dimmick calls the Sea of Mud. It refers to the Mexican Army’s slow, mucky trek through here during the retreat after the Battle of San Jacinto in 1836.

I’m actually a bit surprised that no one here has capitalized on that to create an annual Sea of Mud Festival. The possibilities for that are endless. It would be a great way to draw tourists and capitalize on our history. Don’t believe me, look what Gonzales has done with the Come and Take It Festival.

I envision a weekend of events that include things like mud fights, mud volleyball tournaments, mud pie making contests, a mud run, mud wrestling, muddy t-shirt contests, and the usual array of live music, vendors, parade, and foods. Re-enactors who portray the Mexican Army of the 1830s could set up a camp (on dry, unmuddied ground) and demonstrate camp life and do weapon firing demonstrations. It would be the dirtiest clean fun you’ve ever had.

Getting back to some of my Wharton experiences this past year, I’ve enjoyed covering the Wharton County Youth Fair, the Snow Festival (which, sadly, will not be held this year), the Chamber Banquet, the Rotary Gala, Party Under the Bridge, the Wine Fair, and so many other events. A very memorable moment was the wild finish to the Wharton Tigers football game against Worthing where the 22-game losing streak came to an end.

Other unique experiences include covering the vitriolic theatrics of Gerry “Five-Star General” Monroe at Wharton ISD school board meetings; watching county officials first giving themselves a 10.5% raise and then upping it to 14.4%; two major fires; the sudden closing of an East Bernard developer who left numerous unfinished projects; local elections; a dispute over use of an historic former school; fossil discoveries in the Colorado River; numerous human smuggling arrests; and so much more.

I know there are other things I’m missing, but these highlights are enough to remind me what a fun and interesting place this is. The workload of putting out three newspapers a week (two in Wharton and one in East Bernard) can be stressful, but I generally look forward to coming to work each day because this is such an intriguing place. Rarely am I without anything to put in the paper.

Now that I’ve got a year behind me here, I have high hopes for the year to come. I have a better feel for the community and the things that are important to our readers. My goal is to improve our coverage of the community and to do our part to make this a better place to live and do business.

I hope you’ll join me on this next leg of my journey here. And who knows, maybe there will be a little mud-slinging along the way.

Joe Southern is managing editor of the Wharton Journal-Spectator and the East Bernard Express. He can be reached at news@journal-spectator.com.

The way is clear for Christmas celebrations

And we’re off!

Thanksgiving is now in the rearview mirror and Christmas is dead ahead. Turkey sandwiches and leftover pumpkin pie are fueling shopping sprees this weekend. Yesterday was Black Friday, today is Small Business Saturday, and Monday is Cyber Monday – three days designed to separate you from your hard-earned cash.

It’s not all bad; in fact, it’s usually a good thing. Saving money on things you’re going to buy anyway is always beneficial. The problem is, many people will go into debt to buy gifts and things they cannot afford. If you have to use a credit card (not to be mistaken with a debit card that comes directly out of your bank account), then you’re not really saving any money at all. With the interest paid on a credit card, you’ll actually spend more on those super sales than you would have if you paid cash up front. The worst part is the extra money you spend on interest goes to the lender (bank), not the merchant you wish to support. Cash is the only thing that makes a sale real savings.

I love Christmastime but I absolutely hate the commercialism that has consumed it. This is the season of giving; a season inspired by God giving us the ultimate gift – his son Jesus Christ who was sent to save us from our sins and to bridge the gap between humanity and heaven. Shifting the focus to gifts and gift-giving is to miss the mark.

I’ve always believed that when you give someone a gift it should be thoughtful and meaningful. It’s a waste of time and money to buy them something that will only be in a garage sale next summer. I don’t know how many times my parents bought Christmas gifts for me – and I in turn for my children – only to see them discarded a few days or weeks later. It’s bound to happen. We’ve all done it and had it done to us.

One of the shifts we’ve been making in our family is to move away from toys and trinkets and to give experiences and adventures. Memories last a lot longer and hold deeper meaning. Experiences can include things like an escape room, ax throwing, museums, tandem skydiving, scuba lessons, cruises, camping at a state park, golfing, concerts, sporting events, deep sea fishing excursions, and so on.

These are the kinds of gifts that not only create extraordinary memories, but they create closer bonds and have an intrinsic value that doesn’t diminish over time. You get to interact with your loved ones rather than watching them huddle around a screen and miss the great joys of living.

Photographing these adventures and then creating a photo album or photo book is a way of preserving those memories in a tangible form that can be shared for generations. It’s personal and powerful and there are no batteries required.

As the years pass and you look back at your life, you’re going to recall fondly the things you did, not the things you got. Most of the time I can’t recall who gave me what gift or what gift I gave to someone. I do recall that last year my brother gave my family an escape room experience and that was a lot of fun. It was a shared experience that we all enjoyed together. Please don’t ask me what gifts he bought me before that, because I couldn’t tell you.

But here I am talking about gifts when that’s really not the focus of the season. Sunday is the first day of Advent. It’s something I admittedly never paid a lot of attention to when I was younger but have always enjoyed at church. Another thing I’ve always enjoyed are Christmas plays and concerts. When we first moved here, my family participated in Christmas plays at our church, First Colony Church of Christ.

The church hasn’t done a play in years and we really miss it. That was a shared Christmas experience that also gave joy and pleasure to others. It also kept the focus on the real reason for the season. I hope that maybe next year we will return to that tradition. That was much more memorable and enjoyable than watching holiday specials on TV.

Now that we have given thanks and moved beyond our turkey dinners, lets grasp the joy and hope of a life well lived and a life eternal as we prepare for Christmas.

Joe Southern is managing editor of the Wharton Journal-Spectator and the East Bernard Express. He can be reached at news@journal-spectator.com.

Time, space, gravity are inconsistent

I used to think that time, space, and gravity were unchangeable constants.

Of course we now know that is not true. Take for example a New York minute versus a cotton-picking minute. In New York, where the people are rude and impatient, a minute can pass in just a few seconds, if it lasts that long. Here in Texas and across the South, a cotton-picking minute can last as long as the two-minute warning in a football game, and usually does.

Of course, we all know that space is relative, especially in a bed. My wife and I share our bed equally. I get a fourth of it, she gets a fourth of it, and the cats take the rest. And that’s only because the dogs are not allowed on the bed. We gave up trying to stop the cats.

Space is also relative in parking lots. The more self-important a person is, the more parking spaces they need to take for their vehicles. I once saw a jacked-up pickup with wheels taller than my car parked across six spots in a crowded parking lot. I drive a small car and need a small space. Yet there are so many dings in the side of my car you’d think I was hogging all the space between the stripes.

When it comes to space in terms of distance, I’ve noticed that a mile is much longer when you’re running than when you’re walking or driving. I walk my dog four laps around the block each morning which comes to about 1.25 miles. I can do that in about 20 minutes, which is also the same time it would take me to run it if I were stupid enough to try and run. (That further illustrates my point about time.)

As for gravity, I believe that it pulls harder on things you accidentally drop, like food or screws, than it does on things you want to fall to the ground, such as the cat when you kick it out of bed. In the span of the three-foot drop to the floor, a cat can flip around twice, lick itself in its private area, and growl a dozen curse words at you before softly landing on its feet. A dropped slice of toast, however, will land butter side down, slamming at the speed of a meteorite.

This is a far cry from the time Apollo 15 astronaut David Scott did an experiment where he dropped a hammer and a feather at the same time and they both hit the surface of the moon at the same time. Considering that he was in his garage on Earth when he did it makes it even more amazing! (Just kidding!)

I’m currently listening to the book “Project Hail Mary” by Andy Weir for the second time. In the book, Albert Einstein’s theory of relativity plays a small but important part. The protagonist astronaut travels at sub-light speed to a nearby star. Because he’s traveling so close to the speed of light, time passes much more quickly for him. What is three years to him is about 17 on Earth.

I think the equivalent to that is the perception of time passing for children taking a test in school. An hour may pass for the teacher, but three days go by for the student. The same holds true in a doctor’s office. For the doctor, only a few seconds go by before he enters the examination room. For the patient, enough time has elapsed to read “War and Peace” – twice.

I remember as a child that the time between Thanksgiving and Christmas lasted about two years. The anticipation of opening gifts on Christmas Day made the time pass slowly. As an adult, the time between the two is about six hours. With all the gifts to buy, the parties and events to attend, and the crush of work to finish before the end of the year make time fly by.

I mean, here we are less than a week away from Thanksgiving and I’m still trying to figure out what kind of candy to buy for Halloween.

I think I’m beginning to understand why time passes so quickly for retirees. The more you enjoy life, the faster it seems to go. It’s though as if time picks up speed when it’s going downhill. No doubt gravity probably has something to do with it. After all, it’s all relative.

Joe Southern is managing editor of the Wharton Journal-Spectator and the East Bernard Express. He can be reached at news@journal-spectator.com.

There’s more to life than the here and now

Carpe diem!

It’s Latin for “seize the day.” It’s a reminder to live in the moment. Wherever you are, be there. This moment is all we have. Yesterday isn’t returning and tomorrow isn’t promised. There are numerous inspirational clichés along those lines. And they are true. But so are the contradictory ones.

Never forget where you came from. Those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it. If you fail to plan you can plan to fail. Don’t stop thinking about tomorrow (thank you Fleetwood Mac). Plan, hope, dream, and prepare.

If you’re looking back or looking forward, you’re not in the moment. The truth is, we can’t always be in the moment. There are times when you must reflect on what has been and hope for what will be. To live without looking back is to lack gratitude for everyone and everything that got you to where you are now. If you are so caught up in the moment that you don’t prepare for what’s next, what happens next may very well ruin the moment. The same thing applies to preparing for the life after this one.

Another folly about living in the moment is it becomes easy to settle for what is good and lose sight of what is best. Never surrender your BHAG (big, hairy, audacious goal) for what you have now. Too often we settle for what we have in hand at the expense of what we want most. I’m very guilty of this.

There is a reason that writing my first book has been my top annual goal for roughly 30-some years. When I get the time to write, I get distracted by something more interesting. I’ve stared down the highway of success from many rabbit trails. I have to admit that some of those rabbit trails have led to some very fun and rewarding adventures but at the end of the day I still do not have a completed manuscript.

Living in the moment has been an expensive price to pay for what I want most. And yet I have to ask myself if my number one goal is so important to me, why haven’t I achieved it yet? Do I really want it that bad? Even now as I sit at home in what should be my free time, I’m writing this column rather than penning my tome. I get a lot of satisfaction out of being a columnist but I still don’t know what it feels like to be an author. Sure, I’ve authored hundreds of columns and thousands of stories, but the completion of a book remains out of my reach.

The thing is, it’s within my reach. Anything you want is within your reach. Whatever your dream or goal may be, you can achieve it if you are focused and determined enough. That may mean sacrificing what’s in the moment to seize what you want the most – to carpe cras (seize tomorrow). You need to keep moving forward. Learn from your failures and build on your successes. That means looking back and looking forward. Then, and only then, will you be able to seize the day.

Someday you will have that mountaintop experience that will broaden your horizons and show you more mountains to conquer. And for every mountain you conquer there is a valley to start in. You can’t have a mountain without a valley. Valleys are lush places where growth occurs. But eventually you must start climbing. There are no shortcuts. The elevator to success is broken. You must take the stairs.

Life is hard and it isn’t fair. That doesn’t mean you should give up. I haven’t given up on my dream of writing books and I am using this column as a reminder to refocus, sacrifice, and dedicate my efforts to making that happen. And when the time comes, I will one day hold up the first copy of my first book and shout, “carpe diem!”

 

Birthday wishes

Today (Nov. 12) is my wife’s birthday. This is her last one before a major milestone birthday next year, and no, I’m not saying which one. I just want to take a moment and boast about her and the many wonderful things she has accomplished in the nearly 23 years we have been married.

From starting out as a stay-at-home mom raising 3.5 kids to earning her bachelor’s and master’s degrees, working her way up the corporate healthcare ladder, and taking on key leadership roles in Boy Scouts and Toastmasters, she continues to amaze me with her skills, abilities, and accomplishments. On the side, she sews and is a gourmet chef.

I definitely married several pay grades above my level and thank God every day for this wonderful woman that he has put in my life. Happy birthday, Sandy! I look forward to celebrating many more with you!

Joe Southern is the managing editor of the Wharton Journal-Spectator and the East Bernard Express. He can be reached at news@journal-spectator.com.

‘Facebook Narcissist’ gives revealing insights

I saw the audiobook at the library and checked it out on a whim.

By doing that I learned a lot about myself, my friends and acquaintances, and what social media is doing to us. “The Facebook Narcissist: How to Identify and Protect Yourself and Your Loved Ones from Social Media Narcissism” by Lena Derhally will open your eyes wider than a double shot of espresso with a coffee chaser to the impact Facebook and other social media sites are having on people.

Derhally has me reconsidering what I post on Facebook or whether I should be on the site at all. It is more personally impactful than the documentary “The Social Dilemma” that came out a few years ago. In fact, Derhally references the movie several times.

If you’re thinking about getting the book, let me say up front that you will get sick of the words narcissist, narcissists, narcissistic, narcissism, etc. I think you’d cut the length of the book by a third if you took those words out. That being said, Derhally has issued a wake-up call and a clear warning about the use and abuse of social media.

Her work is well researched and very timely, especially considering all the vitriol on social media sites. She discusses a wide range of topics, including cyberbullying, self-worth, anxiety, depression, trolls, bots, being self-absorbed, over sharing, cyberstalking, influencers, and much more. Derhally is a licensed and experienced psychotherapist, so she knows what she is talking about.

She explains that there are different degrees and types of narcissism and notes that some of it is natural and healthy. After all, you have to believe in yourself and your abilities in order to function normally. What is unnatural is how people use social media to create glorified or false images of themselves and how they hungrily feed off the responses they get. Others hide behind anonymity and wield words like a weapon, often lashing out at others without provocation.

Not everything shared on Facebook (her primary site, although Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, and Tick-Toc get plenty of mention), is bad. Derhally said there is a lot of good that comes from sharing, such as relationship-building, connection, fundraising, support groups, advocating social change, and so on.

Of course, Derhally’s focus is on narcissism and the dangerous and unhealthy aspects it has on those who use social media sites. One thing I was not aware of is what she calls “sharenting,” which is when parents share a lot of private, potentially embarrassing things about their children without their knowledge or permission. Once those things are out there, they don’t go away and can come back to haunt your young ones years down the road.

I’m guilty of that. In fact, one of my sharenting moments went viral and drew worldwide media attention. Fortunately, it quickly passed, but even now, years later, my son is occasionally questioned about it.

I’m also guilty of bragging on Facebook about all the really cool and unusual things I get to do. As a kid who grew up believing he was a nobody, I purposefully live an exciting, adventurous life and I unashamedly share it on Facebook. That probably pushes me higher on the narcissism scale than I care to admit, but I enjoy it.

After listening to “The Facebook Narcissist” I am now thinking about curtailing my activity and clamping down on who can see it. For the most part I live an open life and feel I have something to offer society. I’ve always had an on-again, off-again relationship with Facebook but after listening to the book I’ve been leaning toward exiting all of my social media accounts. I still have a Twitter account, but I dumped the app long ago and never looked back.

The two main reasons I stay on Facebook are to help me stay connected with family and friends and, as a journalist, to share my work. I think those are healthy reasons to be there. What’s not healthy is the amount of time I spend on the site. I’d be a lot more productive if I could curtail my Facebook activity. I admit it’s a problem and I need help. I guess that’s what led me to pick up the book when I saw it in the library.

One of the things I really like about Derhally’s book is that it isn’t preachy. She goes over the pros and cons with minimal opinion and leaves the judgement to the reader. At least when you have finished it you are armed with the knowledge to make informed choices about what you post online and how you react to what you see.

Joe Southern is the managing editor of the Wharton Journal-Spectator and the East Bernard Express. He can be reached at news@journal-spectator.com.

Changing the world one word at a time

There is an old story about a man and his grandson walking along a beach one morning and finding it covered with thousands of stranded starfish (or other sea creature, there are many variations to the story).

The man reaches down, picks one up, and tosses it back into the ocean. After a while of doing this, the boy asks him why. “There are so many, how can it possibly make a difference?” the boy asks.

The man bends down, picks up another one, and tosses it back into the water. “It makes all the difference in the world to that one,” he says.

Sometimes that’s how I feel as a journalist. Most of what I write is just a recap from a meeting or an event. Sometimes, however, I champion a cause when I see something wrong. While shedding the light on something may only benefit a few people, or even one person, we all stand to gain something from it. I can’t take on everything that’s called to my attention – not by a longshot – but I can take on a few.

Last week I wrote about my experiences with bullies. I was inspired by the stabbing incident at Wharton High School. Since then you’d think the world has come unglued. On Wednesday, the school district posted a notice that the high school and junior high were temporarily placed on lockdown when it was reported that students were planning some sort of retaliation related to the stabbings. The rumor was found to be not credible and the lockdown was lifted.

About the same time, an East Bernard High School student was arrested for threatening other students on social media. I also received reports that two weeks earlier at the Boling football game against Van Vleck that there was supposedly some a big fight or brawl after the game. I checked it out and it turns out to have been an exchange of words and a little pushing and shoving. While I still don’t condone that behavior, it certainly wasn’t what it was made out to be.

I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the root causes of all this violence and hate going around. The only conclusion that I can reach is that there are many negative factors, large and small, impacting the way people think and act. The bottom line is that there is a severe breakdown in civility and decorum. Integrity is lost. My generation, our children, and now our grandchildren are experiencing a spiraling decline in moral character.

This brings me to my starfish. Rather than grouse and extrapolate about the cause, it’s time to find a solution. But what can I, the editor of a weekly and semiweekly newspapers, do about it? I will continue to report on incidences as best I can, but that doesn’t help solve the problem. What I can do is what I do best – use words.

Beginning with this edition of the paper you will find on the bottom of the front page a character trait. I will publish a word and brief definition of positive character traits that everyone should know and follow. Many of these traits appear to be missing in society today and I am taking it upon myself to make them known again.

The goal is that perhaps someone who needs to know these things will read them and take them to heart. It may only impact one person, or several, but each person reached is another starfish returned to the sea. It’s my hope that teachers, parents, and other people of influence will pick up on them and share them.

I don’t have any realistic expectation that these words will change the world but they can change a life, and one life changed can be worth the world. I do this of my own volition in hopes that others will join me in spreading the word and help clean our beach of starfish. Together we can do this.

Joe Southern is the managing editor of the Wharton Journal-Spectator and the East Bernard Express. He can be reached at news@journal-spectator.com.

Bullying at the heart of many problems

Although details are still coming out about the fight Wednesday at Wharton High School that resulted in two students getting stabbed and three being arrested, it does appear that bullying is at the center of the confrontation.

I cannot condone nor excuse resorting to violence to resolve the problem, but as the former victim of bullying I can completely understand the emotion behind it. The feelings of helplessness, anger, and fear can be overwhelming to a person, especially a young person still developing emotional maturity.

I was mercilessly bullied from my early elementary school years through my first years in high school. The elementary years were the worst. Not only did I not know how to handle it, but the adults in my life didn’t know either. I was always told to man-up and take care of my own problems or, worse, I was flat out not believed by teachers and other adults.

I have never handled confrontation well, and as a child the fear of confrontation practically paralyzed me. Rather than standing up for myself, I became a whiney, crybaby tattletale, which only made things worse. All I wanted was to be left alone or at least to be friends with everyone. Some kids just couldn’t leave well enough alone. The more I whined the meaner they became. Likewise, the adults appeared to get tired of my whining and refused to listen anymore.

I often felt alone. I feared going to school, which is where most of the bullying occurred. I was so negatively impacted by bullying that my grades suffered. I equated school with fear and pain and distrust. It was hard to focus on school work when I was drowning in dread of being taunted and/or beat up during recess or on the school bus after school. I lacked the understanding and the ability to express my feelings to adults who basically wrote me off as being one of the dopy, dumb kids.

I spent a lot of time daydreaming and plotting my revenge against the bullies. I was filled with as much hate as I was fear toward my tormentors. Had I the courage back then, I probably would have lashed out and seriously maimed or possibly even killed someone. Instead, I accepted that I was just a stupid, whiney nobody.

I no longer feel that way today. In hindsight, I’m glad I never physically hurt anyone. Ironically, if I could go back in time and tell my younger self to do something, it would be to pick one of the bullies and beat the living snot out of him. That would have made a huge difference in my life. But knowing the younger me, I would have been too afraid to heed my own advice. I would have written myself off as just another adult who didn’t understand and/or didn’t care.

As an adult, I have no problem standing up for myself. I’ve learned a lot about bullies since my childhood. Most of them act the way they do because they are being tormented in some way or another and acting out is the only way they know how to respond. They pick on someone smaller and weaker than themselves.

I learned many years after the fact that one of my bullies was the son of an alcoholic who was beat by his father. He just took it out on me because I was younger and smaller. It made him feel big and tough.

It’s ironic that the fight at Wharton High School happened during National Bullying Prevention Month. Today there are so many programs and things to teach anti-bullying that you would think that it would no longer be a problem. It is a problem and probably worse than ever. The solution begins and ends in the home. Parents and guardians need to develop better parenting skills. That would solve a lot of the problems our schools are facing beyond bullying.

Children need to feel loved, wanted, cherished, needed, and cared for. They must have discipline (both orderly and corrective). They need direction, correction, trust, and feelings of safety and security. They need to know the values of respect, integrity, trustworthiness, selflessness, honesty, and such.

I haven’t figured out how we instill those character traits and values in generations that have lost them, but we need to find a way. Otherwise we can expect more of the same and a continuing disintegration of social skills and abilities.

Joe Southern is the managing editor of the Wharton Journal-Spectator and the East Bernard Express. He can be reached at news@journal-spectator.com.

There’s lots of fun things happening this fall

The best thing about fall in South Texas is it’s the season for outdoor fun!

There are so many thing happening I thought I’d share a few of them with you.

 

Texas Renaissance Festival

Last weekend marked the start of the Texas Renaissance Festival. It runs every weekend through November. I know it’s not a local event, but as a major regional festival it’s something you’ve got to experience, at least once. Located north of Magnolia at Todd Mission, TRF is bringing new acts and new attractions this year with a focus on pirate booty – in more ways than one!

The 21-and-over burlesque show Tease of the Seas joins the Chaste Treasures singing trio, The Minstrel Raven, who tells tales of pirates and taverns, and Lester Jesterson as new acts this year. Be sure to check out the new 500-seat Thirsty Pirate for brews and continuous shows.

TRF veterans and virgins can also look forward to new activities like escape rooms (by reservation only), and 16 new vendors, including a wine tasting at Odin’s Table, a new venue.

You can “lift up thy cares” in character during the eight themed weekends, including this weekend’s Octoberfest, followed by 1001 Dreams (Oct. 15-16), Pirate Adventure (Oct. 22-23), All Hallows Eve (Oct. 29-30), Heroes and Villains (Nov. 5-6), Barbarian Invasion (Nov. 12-13), Highland Fling (Nov. 19-20), and Celtic Christmas (Friday, Nov. 25 to Sunday, Nov. 27). You joust don’t want to miss all the fun!

 

Wings Over Houston

Take flight Oct. 29-20 at Ellington Airport for the return of Wings Over Houston, one of the nation’s largest and most prestigious airshows. Returning this year are the Navy’s Blue Angels.

The six Navy and Marine demonstration pilots fly the Boeing F/A-18 Super Hornet. I’ve seen them several times and each time is a huge thrill!

Among the numerous attractions at the weekend show is the F-16 Fighting Falcon, a single-seat, multi-mission fighter with the ability to switch from an air-to-ground to air-to-air role at the touch of a button.

Mix intensity, passion, and personality with Extreme Flight. Patrick McAlee is a professional airshow pilot who maneuvers his Pitts S1-S, nicknamed the “Blue Demon,” to a choreographed music playlist.

One of my favorites is “Tora Tora Tora,” the Commemorative Air Force’s recreation of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. Featuring vintage aircraft from World War II, the demonstration is a living history lesson intended as a memorial to all the soldiers on both sides who gave their lives for their countries. With bombing runs, dog fights, and numerous explosions, this is a real crowd pleaser!

There are numerous static displays, vendors, food booths and more to see and experience. There is more to do and see than you can take in on one day. Buy tickets and learn more at www.wingsoverhouston.com.

 

Houston Astros

Let’s face it, the Houston Astros are the hottest team in baseball and are battling the Seattle Mariners in the playoffs. I’d be stunned if they don’t return to the World Series. I got to photograph the World Series in 2019 and it is one of the most memorable experiences of my life. If you get a chance to catch the Astros this post-season, I highly recommend it.

Also, the Astros Triple A team, the Sugar Land Space Cowboys, are once again decorating Constellation Field for the Holiday of Lights. Plus, just announced, they will host the Savannah Bananas in March. Both events will provide memorable experiences.

 

Local events

There are a lot of local events going on, so be sure to check out our Dateline calendar to stay informed of everything. A couple items of note include the Wharton Chamber of Commerce and Agriculture’s Party Under the Bridge on Oct. 20 at Dinosaur Park.

Mark Tuesday, Nov. 22, on your calendar for the annual Holiday Parade. I’m looking forward to getting into the spirit of the season with this one!

Make a getaway across time on Oct. 22 to George Ranch Historical Park in Richmond for Texian Market Days. My friends and I will be there in period dress doing demonstrations of the 1836 Texas Revolution. There will be many other time periods covered with lots to see and do.

 

Just for fun

With Halloween coming up, I’m reminded that a trip to the National Museum of Funeral History is well worth a visit. You can easily day trip this, as it is located in Houston at 415 Barren Springs Drive. It’s educational and entertaining and one of the area’s best kept secrets. I’ve been there twice and am anxious to go again.

With the 50th anniversary of the last moon landing coming up in December, and NASA’s efforts to return to the moon, a visit to Space Center Houston is always in order. I’ve renewed my membership and hope to visit many times in the next several months, especially this fall when they have the Galaxy of Lights.

 

Brazos Bend State Park

As a member of the Brazos Bend State Park Volunteer Organization, I would be remiss if I failed to mention that this is prime time for camping and alligator viewing. The weather is perfect to bring the giant reptiles on shore for sunning and there are plenty of mommas and their hatchlings to see. Of course, there are many other birds and animals to view and some wonderful trails to hike.

I know this list just scratches the surface of activities in our area and region, but it’s enough to keep anyone busy. There is no excuse to not have fun this fall in South Texas, so get out and have a great time.

Joe Southern is the managing editor of the Wharton Journal-Spectator and the East Bernard Express. He can be reached at news@journal-spectator.com.

Forgetting your cell phone is the new naked

Remember that feeling back in the day when you would leave the house and forget to strap on your wristwatch?

We always described it as feeling kind of naked. I have figured out that leaving your house without your cell phone is the new naked.

As I write this, my cell phone is 25 miles away sitting on my kitchen table. I know this because I have been fumbling around for it all day. Even though I have lived most of my life in the days before cell phones, I find it troubling how lost I am without it.

I use it to play instrumental music – mostly movie soundtracks – while I’m working. It’s eerily quiet here without it. Today I’m not getting texts from my wife. I’m also not getting them from my kids, but they never text me anyway, so that’s beside the point. On the other hand, I’m not putting up with all those pesky phone calls from the nefarious Spam Risk.

Thinking of that naked feeling, I once saw a post on Facebook that said you always feel more naked wearing only shoes than you do when you’re completely naked. Naturally, I read that while scrolling through Facebook on my cell phone. And no, I was not naked at the time. At least I hope I wasn’t naked because I was at the office when I read that. I guess I could have been in the restroom, in which case I would have been partly naked, but I digress.

This isn’t a column about nakedness or nudity, but about being forgetful. My forgetter works really well. I’ve become very dependent on my cell phone for keeping my calendar and giving me reminders of upcoming events and appointments. If I had an appointment with you last Thursday and missed it, you now know why.

My wife gets upset with me because I tend to forget things the minute she tells me. That doesn’t stop her from telling me things. Sometimes they’re important and sometimes they’re not, but when it comes to my wife, it’s all important. I know my forgetfulness is a bone of contention with her because she doesn’t let me forget it.

I feel bad about being so forgetful, but I can’t help it. I live in a perpetual state of sleep deprivation and the mental fog that goes with it.

Sometimes I think Sandy feels I have a selective memory. While I may not remember why I walked into a room or what I was just saying, I can sing along with a song I haven’t heard in 40 years and quote lines from movies nearly just as old.

Sometimes I fear I may be getting some form of dementia or perhaps it’s just that I’m getting old. I don’t think of myself as old. I don’t have to. My kids do it for me. They take great joy in reminding me that, um, well, shoot – I forgot what they remind me about. I’m pretty sure it has something to do with dinosaurs, the Garden of Eden, or putting on my pants before I go outside. Funny that none of them reminded me to grab my cell phone. Knowing them, they’ll text me a reminder – if they bother to text at all.

Thinking of cell phones, I wonder how long we will continue to call those contraptions phones. The calling feature is but one of many things they do and it’s no longer the primary function of the device. I guess it’s one of those names that sticks, like calling music recordings “records,” even though they’re no longer printed on vinyl discs.

Just like phones have multiple functions, so do watches these days. Mine can tell me how many steps I’ve taken, my pulse, and even tells time. Sandy has one of those that delivers her text messages, at least as long as she is close enough to her phone for Bluetooth to connect. My watch is supposedly capable to doing that, but I don’t use that function because the text is so small I can’t read it without my glasses. And guess what else I’m always forgetting?

All this makes me wonder what human beings did in the days before cell phones, watches, and glasses. Did they have similar memory problems back then? Obviously they didn’t have nearly as many things to try and remember as modern folks do. At least that’s what my kids tell me because they think I’m that old.

I imagine that the worst thing our ancestors had to worry about was forgetting to put their pants on before going outside. Man, talk about a naked feeling – not that I would know from experience or anything like that.

Joe Southern is the managing editor of the Wharton Journal-Spectator and the East Bernard Express. He can be reached at news@journal-spectator.com.

Determined caller keeps harassing me

I think I’m being harassed.

He won’t stop calling me. Several times a day my cell phone buzzes and caller ID says it’s the same person. I don’t know this person and I try to ignore his calls, but he’s very persistent. He’s also very manipulative.

I’m of the habit of not answering calls from phone numbers I don’t recognize. If it’s important, the unknown caller can leave a message. My friendly stalker has done so from time to time. I ignore those, too.

At first this person’s name showed up in black text on my phone just like everyone else. Now it pops up in fire engine red. Like I said, he’s very manipulative. He also gets around a lot. He usually starts the day from Kemah, but eventually he’ll roam around and call from Houston, Tomball, Katy, Spring, Baytown, and other communities in the area. Sometimes he calls from other parts of the state, like San Antonio. One time the call came in from “United States” and another time from Poland.

I’ve been referring to this caller as a male, because on those few occasions when he leaves a message it’s in a man’s voice, but he never leaves his name. Sometimes it’s in a woman’s voice, which makes me think maybe it’s his wife or girlfriend (or both). Whoever it is, they seem determined to talk to me about my car’s extended warranty.

I don’t have the heart to tell them that my car is 10 years old, paid for, and held together by bailing wire and bubble gum. It’s pretty dinged up but it still gets me to and from work each day. I really don’t think I need a warranty on it; I only have minimal insurance coverage as it is. But still, they call.

The last name on the caller ID is Risk. I’ve known a couple Risks before and I’m pretty sure it’s none of them. The first name is Spam. I don’t know why anyone would name their kid after canned lunchmeat, but to each their own.

If Mr. Risk continues to bother me, I might report it to the police department, FBI, or Hormel Foods. I might even go all the way to the very top and ask my wife to handle it. Trust me Mr. Risk, you do not want to mess with her. She will leave you shaking and quivering like a dish of green Jell-O in an earthquake and crying like you’ve just splayed open a rotten onion and rubbed your eyes with jalapeno juice on your fingers. Either that or she’ll bake you something sweet, sew you a blanket, and share recipes with you on Pinterest. It all depends on her mood and how you respond.

Getting back to my phone, when Mr. Risk first started calling I would use the Block Caller feature. Mr. Risk, however, kept changing his number. Eventually I blocked so many numbers that even my grandmother couldn’t get through, and she’s been dead for years!

I’ve thought about changing my number, but that would be a headache. It took me a long time to memorize my number and I’d have to go through the trouble of getting my family and friends to change it on their phones. Even if I did that, I’m willing to bet that Mr. Risk would still find my new number and start calling me all over again. That and I still haven’t figured out how I would get my new number to my grandmother.

From what I understand, Mr. Risk is a very busy person. I think he regularly calls just about everyone I know. With the frequency and urgency that Mr. Risk calls people you’d think there was a national crisis involving car warranties.

On that note, he might actually be trying to save all of us from some sinister communist plot to overthrow our car warranties. Gee, maybe I should take him up on his generous offer and save myself from being exploited by the Russians, China, North Korea, or Hormel Foods.

Joe Southern is the managing editor of the Wharton Journal-Spectator and the East Bernard Express. He can be reached at news@journal-spectator.com, but not by cell phone (you got that Mr. Risk!).