Silent Sunday: Relay for Life at South Intermediate H.S., Broken Arrow, June 3, 2011

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http___www.bigleaguekickball.com_category_press_ cheap watson soma online Thank you to Mark Rusling, Melissa Davis and Preston Power of the Tulsa Digital Photography Group, for sharing their work this morning.  Our thoughts go out to all victims, survivors, families and friends of those affected by the vast number of cancers in the world.  May your Race bring you the Cure you are seeking. All the best ~ The Red Dirt Chronicles Writing Team Continue reading Silent Sunday: Relay for Life at South Intermediate H.S., Broken Arrow, June 3, 2011

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On the Horizon: Deadly Decision

Balancing my job as a broadcast journalist and my career as a rodeo cowgirl can be challenging to say the least. Two different worlds that, on certain occasions, I get to combine and produce a story that is close to my heart in more ways than one.

The deadly equine herpes virus has been a hot topic in our arena at home and has the broadcast world buzzing. Should we stay or should we go? That was the main question plaguing me as a horse owner and last week I got to turn the camera on some of my closest rodeo friends and let their voices be heard.

A virus of this magnitude could potentially end our horses lives and our careers. However, after talking to the experts, we learned the nitty gritty details and got a glimpse through the eyes of horse owners all across Oklahoma as they gear up to protect their horses in several different ways.

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On the Horizon: Deadly Decision from Alisa Hines on Vimeo.

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All I’m Asking For Is A Little Honesty

I wasn’t the most angelic child in the world.  I was mean to my sister, fought with my brother, spilled paint on the carpet, tried to run away from home (more than once), threw plenty of tantrums, and frequently talked back to my parents.  I got punished…often.  As bad as some of my deeds were, the discipline was always worse when I tried to lie.  I wasn’t very good at lying, and I had established such a bad track record of bending the truth, that my level of credibility was almost zero.  My sister took great pleasure in turning me in to the proper authorities, and it took me way too long to realize I was only making it worse on myself when I tried to hide the truth.

But lying was always easy, and it just felt right at the time.  It sure seemed better than admitting anything.  These days, there are plenty of prominent sports figures who are finding out the hard way that lying only makes things worse.

Tressel's lies played a huge role in his demise (courtesy AP)

Just ask Jim Tressel.  The Ohio State football coach, who portrayed a squeaky clean schoolboy image with his sweater vest and tie, resigned this week after lying to the NCAA about his knowledge of his players receiving improper benefits.  Last year, Tressel was alerted to the fact that several of his players had received tattoos in exchange for Ohio State apparel and memorabilia, a clear violation of NCAA rules.  Instead of informing his athletic director or anyone else in the athletic department, Tressel kept quiet.  In September 2010, he signed a compliance form saying he had no knowledge of any violations.  When Ohio State began its own investigation, emails were uncovered which indicated Tressel did indeed have knowledge of his players behavior.  Even though the school handed Tressel a five-game suspension and a $250,000 fine, the mounting pressure from the public and the media led to Tressel’s resignation on Tuesday.  If Tressel had exposed his players’ transgressions from the start, Ohio State may have been slapped with violations and suspensions, but its unlikely Tressel’s job would have been in jeopardy.  A lie is the reason Tressel is unemployed, and the NCAA doesn’t take kindly to lying.

Continue reading All I’m Asking For Is A Little Honesty

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Financial Ed 101

There she is, in all her high school senior Glamour Shot glory, in desperate need of “Financial Ed, 101.” Champagne taste and a caviar budget!

When I was a teenager, I could not wait to get my driver’s license. I had glorious visions of myself: sunglasses-clad, stereo blasting, out on the open road with the wind whipping through my hair, free at last from the confines of Mom picking me up and dropping me off. However before I was allowed the luxury of driving, I had to take Driver’s Education Class. Our dauntless high school football coach would load several of us into the car each week, put his life into our sweaty palms and let us practice our lane changes and three-point turns. Of course, if we started to swerve out of our lane, he was there with the brake on his side of the car to keep us from crashing. I was forced to read driving manuals and watch graphic movies about the horrific results when bad driving happened to good people. Finally, after hours of practice and study, I made my way to the DMV to take the ever-important driving test. My examiner was kind and I was well prepared so- except for a failed parallel parking attempt- I passed. All of those hours of learning to drive left me pretty well equipped for whatever came my way.

Not too long after I became master of my driving domain, I started receiving credit card solicitations in the mail. I had glorious visions of myself: sunglasses-clad, stereo blasting, out on the open road to the mall with the wind whipping through my hair, free at last from the confines of having to pay cash. To my relief, there was no Credit Education Class that I had to take. No manuals to read. No movies to watch about the unfortunate souls on the brink of financial ruin. No coach to put on the brakes before my spending swerved out of control. No ever-important credit education test. No examiner to make sure I knew when to park my credit card. I had a license to charge and I had never been taught how to avoid crashing. Continue reading Financial Ed 101

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The 2011 Imaginary Family Project – Week 22

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My mother didn’t die.  She just left for no reason at all.  I don’t remember any difference between the day she left and the day before.  My parents hadn’t argued.  She didn’t pack a single bag.  She didn’t even treat me or Lizzy Beth extra special like she should have done.  Lizzy Beth was riding on my back.  I could feel her drool dripping into my hair.  She was laughing hysterically as I neighed and whinnied and crawled around on my knees.  Lizzy Beth had just turned two.  I was twelve.  The last thing my mother said to us was, “I’m going out to get my hair curled, Sawyer. Y’all be good.”

That was it.  My mother just walked out of the house without us.  She took her purse.  She didn’t leave a note.  She just didn’t come back home again.  That evening when my dad got back from the Pantex Plant he changed out of his work clothes.  He’d drank two Budweiser beers and listened to two radio programs before he noticed she was not around.  In fact, it wasn’t until I was changing Lizzy in the middle of the family room that he asked about her.  “What’s your mother made for dinner?”

Lizzy Beth took that second of me being distracted and wriggled free from her diaper.  I chased her all over the place, while trying at the same time to explain that I hadn’t seen my mother for hours.  “She went to get her hair curled she said.  But she ain’t back yet.  I made sandwiches for my and Lizzy. You want one?” I asked. Continue reading The 2011 Imaginary Family Project – Week 22

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Showcasing Red Dirt culture ~ authored and managed by contributors with connections to the great state of Oklahoma.