lolita-s-bigtoe.com

My mother was fascinated by the timing of events. Listening to her has made me conscious of things occurring at a certain time. Although they’re small, they may turn out to be life-changing.

I still have the portable typewriter that was my Christmas gift in 1952 when I was a high school sophomore learning to type. For the first time in their lives, my parents used monthly payments to pay the large bill, which totaled nearly one hundred dollars. Seventeen years later, I could become a freelance reporter writing the news from the Durand community for the Rockford Morning Star because I owned a typewriter. I never have figured out why my parents gave me that expensive gift.

When our children were in high school, a work/study program was initiated. Lisa spent part of her day detailing cars for the local Ford dealer, an unusual task for a girl. Kurt worked on boats at a newly opened marina across the road from nearby Lake Summerset. Both of them liked their jobs and learned a lot about running a small business. I enjoyed listening to them talk about their employment and it was obvious they felt they were an integral part of the operation. One would say, “We do things this way.” And the other replied, ” Well, we do it that way.” Their earnings enabled them to buy their first cars needed to drive to Rock Valley College and obtain their associate’s degrees.

I met Mary when she dated Ken’s Winnebago County Police detective partner, Gene, and the four of us went out to supper on a summer evening in 1980. When school began in the fall, she was the bus driver who brought several Winnebago High School students to Durand for a mathematics course not available in their home district. The small schools in Winnebago County had entered into a co-op arrangement. While she waited for the kids during the first period of the day, we met again at a nearby coffee shop each morning and became friends.

When I learned the World’s Fair was going to be held in Knoxville, Tennessee, during the summer of 1982, I wanted to attend because that was probably the closest it would ever be, but I didn’t see any opportunity. Soon, Mary told me she was going to drive a school bus to take the teenagers from her church to the fair and added there would be room for me to ride along. On the way, we slept in sleeping bags laid on floors in churches, but Mary and I were in a different room from the teens and their chaperones so we wouldn’t be disturbed. When we arrived in the city, we all showered at the “Y.” It wasn’t a deluxe vacation but I enjoyed the fair immensely.

Those are a few of my happenstances. As you think back, how many things happened at a certain time to affect your future?

If you haven’t filed your federal income tax form, the deadline is coming up, Monday, April 15. Most people could quickly tell you how much of a tax refund they will receive but not as fast answering how much they are paying the national government.

Those who work for someone else filled out a withholding statement when they began their job. The employer must withhold a certain amount of each paycheck dictated by the IRS to cover the amount of taxes they will owe at the end of the year. The reasoning is no one misses what they never see. The amount of your tax money coming back is the amount you were overcharged. It is just your money that has sat there not even earning interest.

Businesses that sell large items such as cars or furniture are sponsoring ads urging you to spend your refund with them. Last year, the IRS reported that more than 60 % of taxpayers received a refund.

In the Land of Lincoln, most of the things we buy are subject to sales tax, but we don’t pay attention to the small amount added to our bill, especially when we pay with a credit or debit card. The only tax we really notice is our real estate taxes. They are due in two lump sums in June and September.

Those of us who live in northern Illinois close to the Wisconsin Stateline often fill our vehicle with gas at an out-of-state station because their gas tax is lower therefore the total cost is cheaper than at home.

When we hear or read about a local government building project, we’re often told state or federal funds in the form of a grant will partially pay the bill. The only income any of our governments have is the amount of taxes collected from its constituents. State funds and federal funds are just collected from more taxpayers in the state or country.

Does anyone keep track of the total taxes they pay each year?

Have you adapted to Daylight Saving Time, which began Sunday. March 10? It takes most of us about a week to adjust to losing an hour.

During World War I and World War II, DST was formally adopted as part of a global attempt to conserve energy. Today, fewer than 40 per cent of the countries in the world continue to switch their clocks twice a year according to Statista, a German online platform that compiles statistics, reports and insights.

I remember the confusion caused by DST during the fifties when I was a teenager living on a farm in northern Illinois. The neighboring state of Wisconsin, known as America’s DairyLand, didn’t go along with the time change because it didn’t work well for the farmers milking cows. In the Land of Lincoln, each town decided whether or not to change their clocks. I attended school in Durand, where the village opted to stay on standard time because it was the center of a farming community. My boyfriend, Kenny, lived in the small town but, like many of the residents, worked in a Rockford factory. Those employees had to juggle the two times because the city set their clocks ahead in the spring to give their workers more daylight in the evening. Every time my family drove into a nearby town, we looked for a public clock to determine which time they were using.

The Uniform Time Act of 1966 established the system of DST throughout the US. Only the states of Arizona and Hawaii have opted out of the time change. Will the rest of us ever quit moving the hands on our clocks twice a year. Since 2015, more than two-hundred daylight saving bills and resolutions have been introduced in almost every state according to the National Conference of State Legislatures. Some would abandon Daylight Saving Time and others would make it permanent year-round.

According to some research, changing our clocks can be dangerous. A study in 2020 by the University of Colorado Boulder found that fatal car crashes increase 6 per cent in the week following the spring switch to DST.

Sleep expert. Adam Spira, PhD, MA, a professor in Mental Health at Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore, says scientific evidence points to acute increases in adverse health consequences including heart attack and stroke from changing the time. It is associated with heightened risk of mood disturbances and hospital admissions.

Spira says, “We function best when our sleep-wake cycle follows the sun. We get sleepy due in part to melatonin release when it gets dark. When we switch to Daylight Saving Time, we increase the amount of light we’re exposed to in the evening hours. The consequences of insufficient sleep include decrease in cardiovascular health, increases in diabetes and obesity, poorer mental health and lower cognitive performance.”

How do you feel about changing our clocks twice a year?

Four years ago, March, 20,2020, our son, Kurt, helped me post my first weekly blog–this is #254. I began with EXAMPLES about two of our elderly, female neighbors that I had admired when our young family moved into our Durand home in 1966. Mrs. Sweet continued to wear make-up although many in her age group didn’t bother. Mrs. Waller stood straight while most of her contemporaries were stooped. These essays allow me to follow my passions and use my gifts to urge people to think about their lives.

I’m aiming at older women, a fast-growing segment of the population, but I also have some men readers. I chose the name, lolita-s-bigtoe.com, because we’re all constantly being forced to ‘dip a toe’ testing the waters of change.

In 1969, after our three children were enrolled in school, I slipped into the world of writing through the backdoor of learn by doing. All I needed to become a parttime, freelance journalist reporting about our community to the Rockford Morning Star was a typewriter and a 35mm camera.

The area newspapers and national magazines that bought and printed my articles wouldn’t have hired me full time because I don’t have a bachelor’s degree. When I graduated from high school in the 1950s, most girls who continued their education became nurses or teachers but neither profession interested me. I didn’t even consider journalism because men reported the news.

To learn more about writing nonfiction, I’ve attended seminars and joined the Illinois Woman’s Press Association, an affiliate of the National Federation of Press Women. The organization sponsors annual contests for published works in many categories. First-place winners at the state level are sent to the national competition. Through the years, my stories have earned numerous awards from both groups.

How did you find your profession?

The week of March 10 – 16 is Sunshine Week, an initiative to promote open government and access to public information. It was established in 2005 by the American Society of News Editors, a nonprofit that promotes principled journalism and fights for freedom of information and open government. Each year thousands of Americans including journalists, media outlets, civic groups, nonprofits, advocacy organizations, schools and promoters of open government celebrate Sunshine Week.

The occasion coincides with the National Freedom of Information Act Day on March 16, the anniversary of the federal government’s adoption of the Freedom of Information Act in 1966. It is also the birthday of James Madison, the fourth president of the United States, who is known as the father of open government. He wrote the Bill of Rights, which ensures a free press and gives everyone free speech.

Government officials work for the public, not the other way around. Without an open government, Americans would only have access to the activities and documents that the bodies choose to share. A lack of transparency and openness can lead to corruption.

When I started as a freelance reporter for the Rockford Morning Star in 1969, I attended all Durand village board meetings and school board meetings. Sometimes, I was welcomed with smiles when members wanted coverage of their actions. Other times, I could feel the antagonism when the boards felt their decisions might not be popular with their constituents. Meetings can be closed for some of their discussions sending media representatives out the door but all votes have to be taken under scrutiny. I phoned in my unbiased report to the newspaper by a 10 p.m. deadline so the article could be included in the next edition. Most of our community’s residents subscribed to the daily that was delivered to homes early each morning by teenage boys riding bicycles.

After thirteen years, I lost my part-time job when the Rockford Morning Star dropped its correspondents reporting from the smaller communities surrounding the city. The newspaper no longer carried stories about neighboring school board and village board meetings.

Today, local and area newspapers are being squeezed by the lack of advertising, their main source of funding. One of the first things I learned as a reporter was the newshole in each edition is the space left for journalism is determined after the paid ads are placed.

TV inundates us with world happenings, but we need local news about our towns and schools, which we support with property taxes that affect both homeowners and renters. Our councils have jurisdiction over the police, water supply, streets and sewers. The decisions of the school trustees determine whether our system attracts families or causes parents to leave our community.

How do you acquire your news?

Last Friday was the first of March; it brings thoughts of spring after a long winter. Rain showers are welcomed after the labor of shoveling snow.

The light will last longer, especially after we turn our clocks ahead one hour when Daylight Saving Time begins Sunday, March 10. The following weekend, we all be Irish to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day.

People are optimistic about the new season, which officially begins the 19th with the day and night equal in length. We look for robins returning after their sojourn in the South. Dandelions are welcomed as the first flowers. Later, some people will cuss the plants as weeds in their yards. Lawn mowers get a check-up to make sure they are in working condition to cut the growing, green grass.

Screens to let in the warm breezes will replace storm windows, which blocked the cold winds.

Housewives will begin their semi-annual cleaning that includes washing windows and curtains plus digging out the dirt that has accumulated in the rooms’ corners.

Gardens will be planned and seeds purchased.

Balls will be tossed as we look forward to the games, which will soon be played.

The month ends with Easter Sunday on the 31st. During the day before, children and their parents will dye hard-boiled eggs bold colors. Later, while everyone sleeps, the fabled Bunny will hide them. Early the next morning, the kids will jump out of bed to begin the hunt. They will also find baskets containing chocolate rabbits, jelly beans and marshmallow Peeps.

Christians will celebrate the resurrection of Jesus Christ with sunrise church services.

What rituals of March will you pursue?

Tomorrow is February 29th. The concept of adding a leap day every time a year is divisible by four has been around for millennia. The reason is the Earth’s orbit. A full revolution around the sun isn’t a whole number, it is 365.2422 days according to National Geographic. Four .2422 roughly equals a full day, which is added to February, the shortest month of the year.

It is probably called leap year because during normal times, we advance one day annually. For example, if your birthday falls on Wednesday this year, the next will be on Thursday, but if there’s a February 29, your celebration will jump ahead two days and be on Friday.

Women of the 21st century are free to propose to their partner at any time they choose, but, in my day, it was solely the gentleman’s prerogative. According to tradition, the tables were turned on February 29 and matrimony-minded women had the chance to ask their sweetheart to marry them.

If you want to celebrate this once in four years phenomenon, head to Anthony, Texas, located on the Texas-New Mexico border. In 1988, Mary Ann Brown and Birdie Lewis, neighbors and fellow leaplings, as people born on February 29th are known, approached their town council with the idea of creating a festival to laud Leap Day and officials approved. Governors of both states proclaimed the municipality as the Leap Year Capital of the World and people travel from across the globe to join the festivities. On Thursday, the 29th, the event will begin with a birthday party for Leap Day babies. Friday and Saturday, March 1st and 2nd, people will enjoy live music, attractions for kids, local eats and unique craft vendors.

Will you observe leap day in a special way or just consider the usual part of the week?

The title shows my age–I don’t hear anyone referring to a pet peeve anymore. I’m just listing some of the things that others habitually say that rankle me.

I view people as egotistical who write an opinion piece in the newspaper or on social media that includes, “I know I speak for many others.” I believe I speak only for myself.

A remark that I think is useless is when I run into an old friend that I haven’t seen for a while who says, “We should get together.” I’ll agree but a time isn’t set and we don’t have each other’s cell phone numbers so I know it isn’t likely to happen.

I don’t like to hear grown children say, “I’m going home,” meaning to their parents’ house. I believe as adults, we each create our own. It’s the same thing when I hear a parent referring to a married kid’s place by using only their child’s name instead of using both of the couple’s first names.

Many people end statements with, “Okay?” Today’s generation of parents tell their children about things they’re going to do such as, “We’re going to visit Grandpa and Grandma, okay?” I guess I was a dictatorial parent.

The word also pops up in such situations as when I’m in a doctor’s examination room for a check-up. The nurse tells me she’s going to check my vital signs, but adds, “Okay?” I’m tempted to say, “No,” to see what happens.

I don’t like to hear so-called jokes that demean blondes, spouses or old age. To me, it reinforces stereotypes.

I don’t want to be referred to as eighty-six years ‘young’. A glance in the mirror assures me I’m old.

Do you have any conversational pet peeves?

Today is Valentine’s Day, a special time to appreciate those who mean everything to us. It isn’t necessarily a partner–it may be a friend or a child. I think loving someone who loves you back is the best feeling there is.

Hugs and “I love you” were not a part of my growing up–my parents believed “actions speak louder than words.” Dad and Mom demonstrated that I was their world. As a girl, one of the things that disappointed me was displays in dime stores of red, plastic barrettes with popular first names such as Pat, Carol and Shirley printed on them in gold. My unusual moniker was never there. While I was in country grade school, one of my birthday presents was a brown, leather, zipper notebook with my name, Lolita Tschabold, engraved in gold on the lower right corner of the front panel. I proudly used it until I graduated instead of the cheap versions made of cardboard that the other students had.

After Kenny became my boyfriend, I learned some people easily expressed love in words as well as actions. The first time he told me, “I love you,” was right before he left for his four-year enlistment in the U.S. Navy. I was flummoxed. It took me a few seconds to respond, “I love you, too, and I’ll wait for you.”

I wasn’t the only one who grew up in a family that was reserved. My brother-in-law, Joe, told me he was surprised the first time he saw his wife’s mother sit on her husband’s lap. His parents never made affectionate gestures.

It’s still an effort for me to return hugs from family and friends and I don’t tell them, “I love you.” I hope when they eat a birthday cake I’ve baked, wear a garment that I’ve mended or see me applauding their accomplishments they realize it’s my way of saying, “I love you.”

Are you a demonstrative person when it comes to love?

Today would have been my parents’ wedding anniversary. Much of what I am comes from them; their genes and upbringing shaped me for better or worse. I was as amazed as my new husband when my mother’s derogatory words spewed out of my mouth during our first disagreement.

I’ve also adopted some of the ways of people I’ve esteemed during my lifetime. Recently, our family gathered at a restaurant to celebrate a birthday. While I spooned soup into my mouth, I rested my right elbow on the table. Suddenly, in my head, I heard Mr. Potter’s soft voice, “Lolita, we don’t put our elbows on the table.” I quickly moved my arm. His daughter, Karen, was my best friend when I attended country school. I ate many meals at their house and adored her parents.

Most people wear their wristwatch on their left arm but mine is opposite. I was in fifth grade when my cousin, Doris, gave me her old timepiece because her boyfriend gave her a new one for Christmas. When she said, “Hold our your arm,” I automatically gave her my right and she looped the band around my wrist. I’ve never changed because Doris put it there.

I admired my junior-high teacher, Miss Tunison. I altered my handwriting to incorporate her quirk of dropping the line within a word.

I continue to absorb things I see or hear. Recently, I saw an ad featuring an older model who wore a hairstyle similar to mine but hers looked better. I took a copy of the magazine photo to my stylist the next time I needed a cut and she used the picture to alter my ‘do.

My persona is like a collage, a creative work that was popular a few years ago when people were gluing various materials together to form a work of art.

Who can you identify as being a part of the collage that you call myself?