Required Reiding

Happy Halloween!

2009-10-30T23:09:00.000-04:00

Tomorrow is Halloween 2009! This year has just FLOWN by!

End of Summer!

2009-10-30T23:08:00.000-04:00

Where does the time go? It seems like summer started just seconds ago!

I love my job!

2009-10-30T23:07:00.003-04:00

I am really busy. I's amazing that I even have time to post anything to this blog.

Summer Time!

2009-10-30T23:07:00.001-04:00

Wow it is hot.

San Diego was great

2009-10-30T23:06:00.001-04:00

Should also mention that my trip to hang with the Captain was a blast!

Chris Reid, MSW

2009-10-30T23:05:00.000-04:00

I graduated today! It feels so good to be free!

Happy Birthday, Ladies!

2009-10-30T23:04:00.001-04:00

Happy Birthday to all my April Ladies: Katie, Erica, and Mamaw.

I got a job!

2009-10-30T23:03:00.001-04:00

I'll be the new Advisor with International Student Services at USC. I start in May!

Looking for Work

2009-10-30T23:02:00.003-04:00

Now that I'm in my last semester of grad school, time to start looking for a job. This economy sucks!

Happy New Year!

2009-10-30T23:02:00.001-04:00

Can you believe it's 2009 already?

Merry Christmas!

2009-10-30T23:01:00.000-04:00

Greetings from New Jersey! May your holidays be wonderful.

Thirty-Two!

2009-10-30T23:00:00.003-04:00

Happy Birthday to ME!

One Year Already.

2009-10-30T23:00:00.002-04:00

Dad's been gone for one year. Time flies by very quickly. I miss him everyday.

Happy Thanksgiving!

2009-10-30T22:59:00.000-04:00

Happy Turkey Day, dear readers!

A HISTORIC DAY!

2009-10-30T22:57:00.002-04:00

You heard it here first, folks! BARACK OBAMA IS OUR NEW PRESIDENT! What an amazing thing to be a part of- our first Black President. I hope his transition into the White House is easy and without much stress.

This is a Close Race

2009-10-30T22:56:00.001-04:00

I don't know who's gonna win the presidential race. It's a tight one. Can't wait for election day!

Return of the New and Improved

2009-10-29T19:39:00.001-04:00

What? WHAT is THIS? Can it BE?

Your eyes do not deceive. More to come...

A Cheap Shot at Those Who Work To Make a Difference

2008-09-06T00:42:00.002-04:00

In Sarah Palin's speech accepting the V-P nomination this week at the Republican Convention, she said the following statement:

"...Before I became governor of the great state of Alaska I was mayor of my hometown. And since our opponents in this presidential election seem to look down on that experience, let me explain to them what the job involved. I guess -- I guess a small-town mayor is sort of like a community organizer, except that you have actual responsibilities."

Nice.

CNN commentator Roland Martin had a nice rebuttal to that statement:

"At a time when Americans are losing their homes to foreclosure, folks are trying to get by after layoffs, people are struggling with lack of healthcare, and we're facing pressing environmental issues, it's ludicrous to slam the little man and woman who isn't asking the government for handouts, but is doing what they can to make their neighborhood and city better...

... So when Rudy Giuliani and Palin mock community organizers, they don't just toss a barb at Sen. Barack Obama, they demean Reginald and Emelda Martin [Mr. Martin's parents]. They degrade the women who fought for their rights. They disrespect the labor activists and immigrant worker activists like Cesar Chavez.They dismiss those in the civil rights movement -- folks from small town America who were sick and tired of being sick and tired. They thumb their noses at the Nelson Mandelas of the world who want a better life for their children."

Below is a link to his entire article:

Commentary: GOP Shouldn't Knock Community Organizers

TODAY, JUNE 20th, IS WORLD REFUGEE DAY 2008

2008-06-20T21:59:00.003-04:00

From the heart I hope that these — our brothers and sisters so tried by suffering — are guaranteed asylum and the recognition of their rights, and I invite those responsible for the nations to offer protection to those who are in such delicate situations of need. - Pope Benedict XVI

Everyone must face troubles and sadness in their life. But today, take a few moments to think about all the ways we are truly blessed.

Who is a refugee?

A refugee is a person who "owing to a well-founded fear of being persecuted for reasons of race, religion, nationality, membership of a particular social group, or political opinion, is outside the country of his nationality, and is unable to or, owing to such fear, is unwilling to avail himself of the protection of that country…"

Article 1, The 1951 Convention Relating to the Status of Refugees -from www.unhcr.org.au

How many refugees are there today?

There are about 32.9 million people of concern to UNHCR as at January 2007. Of these 9.9 million are refugees as defined by the Refugee Convention or those given prima facie recognition as part of mass influxes.

The remaining 23 million of concern to UNHCR are made up of:

* About 12.8 million internally displaced people (IDPs) who flee from their homes for the same reasons as refugees but who remain within their own country. This figure represents only a portion of the estimated 25 million IDPs worldwide who are not specifically covered by the Refugee Convention.
* About 2.6 million returnees – 1.1 million refugees who have voluntarily returned to their countries of origin but who remain of concern to UNHCR because we monitor their reintegration and provide assistance. There are also 519,430 IDP returnees.
* About 740,000 asylum-seekers, people who are seeking to be recognized as refugees but are still in the determination process.
* About 30,500 refugees who are resettled elsewhere.
* About 3.2 million others, including stateless and others.
-from www.unhcr.org.au

Brilliance from the Onion

2008-04-06T20:19:00.002-04:00

Stop Making Movies About My Books

On the fourteenth of March, in towns nationwide,
In every cinema, multiplex, on every barnside,
Gleamed another adapting of one of my books,
CGI-ed and digitized by another sly crook.

Horton, my favorite—look how he's been treated!
Stuffed with tinsels and tassels and promptly excreted!
The puns! And the filler! The script fees you must save!
While I tumble and grum-humble around in my grave.

Did you learn all but squat from The Cat In The Hat?
Please tell me you fired the prick who made that.
I would have stopped writing, maybe sold Goodyear tires.
If I knew one dark day I'd costar with Mike Myers.

And Oh!
Oh, dear! Oh!
My poor Grinch, what they've done!
They crammed in live-action and snuffed out all the fun!

It's icky, it's tacky, it's awkward, it's wrong.
The Whos look like ferrets, it's an hour too long.
What a rotten idea to spend millions destroying
This masterful tale kids spent decades enjoying!

But still you keep making them!
Just how do you dare?
Sell my life's work off piecemeal
To every Tom, Dick, and Har'.

Why it's simply an outrage—a crime, you must judge!—
To crap on my books with this big-budget sludge.
My books are for children to learn ones and twos in,
Not commercialous slop for Jim Carrey to ruin.

Have you no respect for the gems of your youth?
To pervert them on screen from Taiwan to Duluth.
Even after you drag my last word through the dirt,
I know you, you pirates,
You'd cut out my heart for a "Thing 1" T-shirt.

For eighty-some years I held you vultures at bay,
knowing just how you'd franchise my good name some day.
Not yet cold in my grave before you starting shooting
the first of my classics you'd acquired for looting.

Mrs. Seuss, that old stoofus, began selling more rights
to Dreamworks, Universal—any hack in her sights.
First The Cat In The Hat and then this, that and Seussical
without a thought to be picky, selectish, or choosical.

So to Audrey, you whore, you sad sack of a wife:
Listen close. Pay attention, for once in your life.
You give Fox In Sox to those sharks who made Elf
And so help me, I'll rise up and kill you myself.

No Sneetches by Sony—
No One Fish: On Ice—
Burn that Hop On Pop II script not one time but twice.
Don't sex up my prose with Alyssa Milano…
And no Green Eggs And Ham with that one-note Romano!

This must stop! This must end! Don't you see what you're doing?
You're defiling the work I spent ages accruing.
And when it's dried up and you've sucked out your pay
There'll be no going back to a simpler day,

When your mom would give Horton a voice extra deep,
And turn the last page as you drifted to sleep.
Instead you'll have boxed sets, shit movies, and… well,
You'll have plenty to watch while you're burning in hell.

Mugabe Out?!!

2008-04-02T23:46:00.002-04:00

So I am shocked and thrilled to see that Mugabe may actually be ousted from power after 28 years in control. This is big, big news. However, my happiness is tempered by the fact that lots of people will likely die before this thing resolves itself. It'll be amazing if Zimbabwe doesn't collapse in the turmoil that is probably right around the corner. Sad but true. Just watch.

Still, I do hope the old bugger is gone.

Hello! I'm Here! Really!

2008-02-06T23:36:00.001-05:00

self portrait
Originally uploaded by baldman76

Oh, this blog! I love having it, yet I cannot for the life of me feel compelled to actually post on it.

Dear Readers, I have been busy. And sick. And tired. And sick and tired of being busy. But life is pretty good. So, from the last few weeks, some observations and updates, in no particular order, and certainly not all-inclusive.

1. Happy birthday to Mom (Feb 4th) and Fuzzy (Feb 3rd)!

To Mom- I know the days an be hard, but I think you are handling things with the utmost grace and strength. I love you.

To Fuzzy, I love you, too, man. Due to sickness and being out-of-town (always a fun combination), I didn’t call you. But we hope your b-day was great. And hopefully soon, you will get your present (if it hasn’t arrived already).

2. Yeah, so the whole sick thing. Katie has been really sick for a few days, an I thought I was managing to stay healthy, but alas, the Dread Mahocus has me in its grip now, as well. Missed several blocks of work-related stuff, but did manage to make it to all my classes. Hopefully we are on the mend.

3. Because of the day and because I am Catholic, I have ashes all over my head right now. Gonna try to stop cussing for Lent, but that’s gonna be pretty f%@#ing hard for me. I’ll try, though.

4. Thanks to Erica and Fuzzy for the new computer. I have over half my CD’s now loaded up on iTunes. And my lip gloss be poppin.’

5. So our dear priest at St. Tomas More, Father Tim, was transferred. And our new priest, Father Marcin Zahura, has been here since Feb. 1st. And, man, what a difference. I like him, I do. Liked him pretty quickly, actually, but he is different. He is…uhh, stricter, shall we say. Which is not necessarily a bad change. It will be interesting to see how the congregations take to him. I’ll leave it at that for now. Gonna study this new fella a while.

That’s it for this post. But I’ll post more soon. I’ll try harder, folks. I really will!

King Day at the Dome

2008-01-21T16:27:00.001-05:00

Today is MLK Day, and to commemorate the day the NAACP held the King Day at the Dome Rally. It was cold, first off, but I was happy to see a substantial turnout of young and old, black and white. We heard songs from the Claflin University Gospel Choir, speeches from both the state and national presidents of the NAACP, a lot of talk about taking down the Confederate flag, and- the biggie- the three front runners of the Democratic presidential race all spoke.

Our friend Melissa was visiting from NYC.

I tell you, I am thoroughly undecided on who to vote for at this point. I am also fairly uninformed. I've followed the race, but with everything going on lately, the race kinda hit the back burner. I have one week to make a decision. That being said, I really like all three. Obama gave the first speech. His was inspiring and the crowd was all about him.

Edwards followed, and his speech was more of a stump speech with very little fine tuning from his other campaign ralliy we attended on the January 9th. This is not necessarely a bad thing, as he has focused on domestic issues that mesh easily with MLK's legacy. Given his substantial third place standing, he was nonetheless well-received .

Clinton was last, and she was also well received (hell, it was an NAACP rally- let's be real, it was a crowd of Democrats). Clinton spoke in a fairly laid back manner that sent the aura of "Y'all know who I am, I don't need to stump. Let's talk about MLK." She had the most first-person-ish experiences involving civil rights (and MLK, whom she saw when younger), and I think the crowd recognized that fact.

I have no idea who will win between Clinton and Obama. The crowd went nuts for Obama, but there were a LOT of Clinton signs in the audience.

The best line of the day, IMHO, came from the opening prayer. The pastor stressed how divisive race relations and the neglect of the most needy in our country has led America down the wrong path. He stressed the need to unite as one people, and he made the following statement: "We may have come here [to America] on different ships, but we are all in the same boat now." It went over very well. It may not sound so great on this blog, but it's rare in my experience for a prayer to get applause.

And finally, it seems THIS guy is often spotted around political events...is a political junkie? An intrepid reporter? Or perhaps, a lunatic?!! (Perhaps all three...)

Birthday Boy

2007-12-22T09:53:00.000-05:00

I'm thirty-one today! Here's a little something I found while cleaning out a box downstairs. Published Thirty years ago (obviously).

Reflecting and Remembering

2007-12-11T23:09:00.001-05:00

It has now been nine days since my father died. It's been so busy around here lately, I just haven't found the time to sit and try to get the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions down in writing. But make no mistake- I've been mulling, pondering...

So here's a few simple thoughts: I miss my dad. I don't think his death has really sunk in yet, but I am truly starting to feel his absence. Seeing him every day- or talking to him every day- was not the norm for the last few years, so I think a little time had to go by before it really started registering that he was gone. But he is, and it's starting to hurt.

It strikes me as shocking- and amazing- that I watched someone die. Even more shocking that it was my father- but just the simple thought that I watched someone take their last breath is surreal to me. The end was a touching tribute to faith, family, and love- he was surrounded by family, my sister and I were at the bedside, touching him, and he died in my mother's arms. It was dignified- but earlier in the day I was overwhelmed with feeling insulted that death, or anything, would put my sweet father through such an ordeal. I will not forget the sound of the “death rattle.” Katie told me she now understood how someone could call death “evil.” However, the end was triumphant. My mother held Dad in her arms and he left us peacefully. It was the most Christian thing I have ever seen.

The visitation and funeral had several hundred people in attendance. The chapel held 300 people and there were still folks standing in the back. I was driving the car directly behind the hearse heading to the cemetary and could not see the end of the cars following us in my rear view mirror. The funeral itself was very joyous. There were tears of course, but a lot of laughter, some beautiful hymns, an upbeat version of “I Can See Clearly Now,” and even a show of hands for how many in the crowd had ever been to a concert with Dad (a lot). The preacher leading the service (Jim Biedenharn) was perfect and really knew what Dad wanted for his “farewell,” and when my father's body was being taken to the hearse, we gave Dad a standing ovation for a victorious life well lived. He was loved.

Dad was a great father- not perfect, but a loving, warm, earnest man who has left a wonderful example for his children to follow. It is strange to realize that the man to whom I have most looked for guidance and direction is gone.

I do think he was always a little baffled at how a conservative, Republican, Protestant father could have led by example and spawned a liberal, Catholic, vegetarian, Democratic son. But he did! He was always supportive of me, and I am who I am because of him.

A close family friend told me the other day that Dad told him how proud he was of me when I became a Catholic. I never doubted that, but to hear that means a lot.

I am sad he will never meet his grandchildren. But I'm more sad that his grandchildren will never meet him.

Dad called me “Sport” my whole life, the irony of which is not lost on me.

He was the Ground Monster, a creature that chased children but could only get them if they were standing on the ground. Cars, trees, porches, and swingsets were our saving graces.

He loved the song “Greensleeves” and whistled it really fast to be the theme song for our Reid Family Adventures, where we would all climb on a swing tied to a huge pecan tree branch and pretend it was a hot air balloon.

He created a bed-time game show called Hug My Babies, where my sister and I (and any other lucky kid who happened to be spending the night) would answer questions competing for the grand prize, a hug. The host was Justin Time, the announcer was Cliff Dweller.

We used to wrestle in the front yard. Inevitably this was devolve into him tickling me until I couldn't breathe. Not so much fun, but a fond memory.

He would bring home big pieces of cardboard for us to slide down the hill.

Many of my friends called him Papa Reid. Jeremy called him P-Daddy (short for Pretend Daddy). Chris Blue called him Diamond Dave.

He loved music and taught me all about bands and singers and who played guitar on what albums. But his tastes went far beyond classic rock. In 1998, Dad went with me and Jeremy to see the Beastie Boys in Atlanta, not because we needed a chaperone, but because Dad really liked the Beastie Boys. He was the first person I ever knew to like Alice In Chains, Portishead, and Radiohead. He really liked Faith No More. He has two Audioslave CD's. He loved Beck.

I always enjoyed talking to Dad about all of our Africa interests because he was really interested. This is not to say that the rest of my family is not interested, but their interests are generally because Katie and I were involved in it. Dad was fun to talk to because he thought the subjects themselves were interesting, and I always appreciated that.

I could go on and on about Dad, and I probably will in future blog posts. But I'll end this with the text that the editor of the Vicksburg Post, Charlie Mitchell, wrote for his weekly editorial on Monday, December 10th. Vicksburg is not a huge town- it's less than 30,000 people, I believe- but not too many people have the editor of the paper write an article in tribute to their life. I am damn proud of my father David Reid, my dad and my friend whom I loved dearly.

Remember David Reid, who never lost the melody
by Charlie Mitchell

We met in elementary school.

After those days our encounters were rare and brief. They came at predictable intervals as we aged, in grocery store aisles, at back-to-school nights for our own children, reunions.

Exchanges with David Reid always went past, "Hi, how are you? Fine and you? Fine." He always had something wry, something personal, something sincere to say.

David made an impression, a good impression. He was consistently upbeat.

It was good that the Post had David on the front page a few weeks ago, "outing" him to the world for what was probably the most outlandish deed of his life. David was one of four Hinds Community College commuters from Vicksburg who in 1973 carved, in giant letters, "Remember Duane Allman" into an earthen wall along the then-new Interstate 20 near Bovina. Prompting the news story was a performance in Vicksburg by Gregg Allman, brother of the legendary guitarist who had been killed in a 1971 motorcycle wreck.

The carved memorial lasted for years, becoming an icon to I-20 travelers. Gregg told David and his co-conspirators the family had seen photos and appreciated the gesture. That meant a lot.

Anybody who knows anything about music--and David knew a lot about music--will tell you that Duane Allman, though a rocker's rocker, always kept the melody, never lost it to the noise.

And so it was with David.

He was keenly intelligent, with an excellent memory, but he didn't care whether anyone knew it or not. Impressing others wasn't something he desired to do. David was as casual as the Hawaiian shirts and wide-brimmed hats that were his stock-in-trade.

He and his classmate, Tricia, equally smart and warm in her friendships, formed a marital partnership in which they derived pleasure from being considerate of one another. Money didn't matter. Having a posh house didn't matter. Having the newest car didn't matter. What other people thought, did, cared about or worried about didn't matter. People mattered. Relationships mattered.
Together, David and Tricia infused their ideals into their children, Erica and Christopher, talented and creative children who have become talented and creative adults. The Reids equipped their daughter and son with roots and wings the way great parents do--a grounding in values plus decency plus a yearning to explore, learn, serve.

Word that David had cancer came years ago. Tricia, an Internet blogger before that term was even invented, wrote about it the same as she had everything else. Both were realistic, prayerful, confident, scared, accepting the challenge. What choice did they have?

They won a hell of a lot of battles, but, as the cliche goes, not the war.

Just a few weeks ago, a backache sent David to the doctor. It wasn't a
pulled muscle. It was another malignancy. The verdict: David would die in a matter of weeks.

They say hospice nurses are compassionate, which would be expected. But they're also pretty seasoned. After David's nurse had her first private meeting with him, telling him how things would go, I'm told she left the
room in tears.

The end came last Sunday night just as forecast, family and friends all there. A free spirit became free.

Encounters with people like David Reid are brief and rare. When they happen, listen for the melody. They've learned to sustain it through the noise.

-- Charlie Mitchell is executive editor of The Vicksburg Post. Write to him
at Box 821668, Vicksburg, MS 39182, or e-mail post@vicksburg.com.