Fired up! Local firefighters and airport crew learn to fight fires with high-tech simulator (MNA April 07)

By CEAN BURGESON
Associate Editor

In an emergency situation, especially a fire, five minutes can make the difference between life and death. That’s why Manistee Blacker Airport has a new tool to fight an aircraft fire on their runway — the Quick Response Crash/Fire/Rescue Truck.
“We’ve got commercial airline service with a 19 passenger airplane, and the new regulations which take place in June require us to have a quick response fire truck,” says Bill House, who heads the airport’s operations.
“It will respond to the accident and then it will last long enough that the local fire department will be in to back us up.”
Manistee Township’s fire department is the local responder for fires at Blacker.
“With us being trained in how to operate it, and we’ve got dry chemical foam and water on (the truck), we should be able to take down most accidents on the field prior to the fire department showing up,” says House.
“Manistee Township is only about two and a half miles away, so their response time is really fast — less than five minutes.”
Before purchasing the new fire fighting vehicle, which was built in Texas by a company called Crash Rescue, the airport relied solely on the fire department in case of a fire.
On Thursday, seven employees from the airport and six volunteers from Manistee Township and Eastlake departments were trained to fight fires using the Airport Firefighter Mobile Trainer, a state-of-the-art unit that is trailered in on a semi truck, and can simulate an aircraft fire right on the runway.
Kellogg Community College in Battle Creek operates the 50 foot-long trainer, the first of its kind to be approved as a rescue and fire fighting trainer by the Federal Aviation Administration.
The simulator uses environmentally acceptable propane fuel to provide a variety of realistic aircraft fire scenarios. One of the distinct advantages of the ARFF Mobile Trainer is its accessibility by rescue personnel to sharpen aircraft passenger and crew rescue skills.
The passenger rescue training is very realistic, right down to the recorded screams which play during the drill. Dummies are placed inside the trainer to simulate passengers, and the cabin is filled with thick smoke — so thick in fact, that firefighters can walk by open flame without ever seeing it.
Trainees then “rescue” the 150 pound dummies just as they would in an actual emergency fire rescue.
All of the flame and smoke is highly controlled and safety-monitored by infrared cameras via the control unit which is housed inside the semi-trailer portion of the simulator.
Firefighters do not actually put the fires out, even though they use water to spray the flames. The fire is controlled and extinguished by an operator remotely when he has determined that the proper technique has been used to quench a blaze.
All of the other equipment, from the trucks to the houses, breathing apparatus, rescue equipment, and protective clothing is the same as would be used in an actual emergency.
The simulator has the ability to simulate brake or tire fires, fuel spills, prop or jet engine fires, fuselage fires, and interior fire situations.
Even though it is a simulation, the flames and the smoke are real, and the training is customized based on the local airport. The effectiveness of the simulator lies in how it teaches responders to rapidly control and contain aircraft emergency situations by using “real-world” scenarios.
With their new vehicle and training, Blacker airport is fully prepared for any emergency, and will continue to hone their skills.
“Every airport with commercial air service needs annual training on this, so it will be back every year this time of year,” said House.
Cean Burgeson can be reached at: cburgeson@pioneergroup.net

In their hands (MNA April 07)

By CEAN BURGESON
Associate Editor

We all make mistakes at work. Here at the newspaper, mistakes are hard to take sometimes, because thousands of people see them when they happen. It can be embarrassing, but it isn’t the end of the world.
And no matter how bad we feel when we commit a blunder here at the News Advocate, we can issue a correction for our faux pas, and move on to publish the paper another day.
But not all career paths have this much latitude. And not all jobs have the same stress level.
This became evident to me as I watched the staff of the obstetrics unit work on Thursday and Friday at West Shore Medical Center to deliver the newest Burgeson: Owen Cean.
I know that when I make a mistake, spell a name wrong, or mis-spell a word, I get a phone call, or a snicker from a co-worker, or in the worst case scenario, someone sends me a nasty E-mail or leaves me a biting voicemail.
And it gets me down sometimes. I know that it really shouldn’t, though. I certainly don’t have that stressful or critical a job compared to other fields.
Sometimes it’s important to step back and put our jobs into perspective, because when folks in the medical profession make a miscalculation, lives are at stake.
You wouldn’t know it from watching these professionals work, though. They are courteous, kind, able, and competent. Their jobs, whether it is nurse, doctor, or other specialist, require knowledge in medicine, technology, and even psychology. The latter may be the most important of all at times.
And they deserve some credit, because people who are sick, injured, or in pain certainly aren’t the best customers. So, it takes a very special kind of person to work in the medical field.
We’re lucky to have a fantastic group of individuals working at our local hospital. Some Manistee residents may travel to Traverse City or Cadillac for treatment or for the birth of their child, but, as more than one staff member at West Shore told me last weekend, patients tell them that, “once they have a child here, they won’t go anywhere else.”
Watching the local O.B. team work, it was easy to see why this statement is true.
We had our first child in a huge hospital in Pasadena, just outside of Los Angeles. We arrived in the wee hours of the morning to find that none of the delivery rooms were available, and we were forced to wait in a triage area with other laboring mothers until a room opened up. Our doctor was spread so thin that night, it felt like he was only with us for the last ten minutes of the delivery to make sure he made an appearance.
The nurses and other staff were friendly, but we were only one of many priorities that night, and we didn’t get a chance to really connect with the staff like we did here in Manistee. And once our birth was over, we were quickly ushered into a hospital room so someone else could slide into our birthing room.
That’s the reality of treatment at a large hospital. It isn’t a slam on those folks. They have a lot on their plates. And we still had a good experience.
I can’t tell you the name of any of the people who helped deliver my son eight years ago, though, but I won’t soon forget about Mary, Wendy, Rosie, Karen, Dr. Joanette, and the other warm individuals who made our delivery and stay at West Shore so easy and stress free. I apologize if I’m leaving anyone out — there wasn’t one person we had contact with who wasn’t pleasant and helpful. Thank you to each one of you.
So, as much as I sometimes miss living in the “big city,” with access to shopping malls, 24-hour video stores, pharmacies, and all-night fast food outlets, I don’t regret having my third and final child in small town Manistee.
We couldn’t have asked for a better experience.
I came out of the birth of my second son four days ago with something (besides a healthy little eight pound wrinkly guy). It was the knowledge and reminder that medical professionals everywhere deserve our respect and gratitude, especially here in Manistee — because our lives are literally ‘in their hands.’
———
Cean Burgeson can be reached at: cburgeson@pioneergroup.net

America's pastime is a family tradition (MNA April 07)

By CEAN BURGESON
Associate Editor

Spring means many things. Warmer temperatures, budding flowers, the return of tourist season. But there is one thing that spring means to me more than anything else.
Baseball.
The Burgesons all play baseball. It’s a long-standing tradition in my family, starting with my grandfather. Millard was quite the ball-player in his time. As near as I can tell, he played since he was a lad. I’ve found some old box scores and news clippings about him, and apparently he was a member of a few different teams in his youth. From what I can tell, he played amateur ball for a club called the Moose in Bay City. He also played for a Knights of Columbus team and another team called Berdan Bread.
One clipping says that the Knights team was the American League champ of the City Amateur Federation. That's grandpa in the photo there, circa 1933 in his Knights uniform. According to my grandfather, his career as a starter began when he was riding the pine as a backup infielder. The regular third baseman misjudged a line drive and took a hot shot off of his forehead. He had to be taken from the field as a result of the injury, so the coach said, “Burgeson, get in there.”
From then on he played mostly infield, and had some noted play in a few of the clippings, until he was drafted into the Army. After he was captured by the Germans while fighting in Italy, he spent almost three years in a prisoner of war camp in Moosberg, Germany. In an amazing coincidence, one of his former teammates on that championship K of C team, a sergeant in the air corps, was brought to the same P.O.W. camp where he was interned, and the two were able to reunite and help each other to survive for 34 weeks until they were both liberated by advancing Allied troops.
I wonder how much of their talk during those long days of confinement turned to their time playing baseball?
After he got back from the war, I’m not sure how much grandpa played, but he was always available to play catch with me growing up, right up until the time he got sick before his death. He also played whiffle ball with my dad, my uncles, and me every summer at the lake. I’ve even seen him play a few times with the OPC (Older Persons Center) softball team well into his retirement from the Detroit court system.
My father played baseball growing up, too, and there are some old family slides of him and his brothers in those saggy old-time baseball uniforms from the 1950’s and '60s. He played on and off as he got older, and played softball for years while I was growing up. Once I got older, I played on some adult league teams and many church league teams with my dad, with him usually at second base and me at short, completing double plays against the Catholic and Methodist church teams in my hometown of Rochester Hills.
Before that, I played in that YMCA league from T-ball on up, playing mostly shortstop, and loved it like nothing else. Our teams were never great, and somehow were always relegated the sponsors from the lower end of the spectrum, such as an obscure hardware store out near the county line, and we got the team colors nobody else wanted, like green shirts and brown hats. We were the team made up of kids from the other side of the tracks, and would often fall to the much better dressed power-house teams like Keim Realty, populated with players somehow recruited from other districts, despite the denial of the league organizers. Every once in a while, though, our ragged bunch of Bad News Bears would beat the kids from the nice side of town, making it all worthwhile.
When given the choice between playing soccer, flag football, or baseball, I chose baseball. And I was obsessed with being the best I could be. I’d bounce a tennis ball off of the garage door and field it, over and over again. Before that, I had one of those springy nets that I could bounce the ball off of for fielding practice, and I took grounders off of that until it finally fell apart. For fly-ball training, the sloped roof of the garage provided hours of workouts as I’d throw the ball up onto the peak and catch the ball as it rolled down and off of the roof. I even rigged a hard ball on a rope from one of the old apple trees in our back yard to practice hitting with. My dad was the coach, just as his father coached him, so we had all the bats, balls, and other equipment which allowed me to practice all summer long.
And I practiced as much as I could.
Of course, as most kids do, I would wait for my dad to come home, exhausted from his job as a retail manager, so he could play catch with me. I know that he must have been tired, but he almost always would throw a couple hot grounders, fly balls, and hard tosses to me before it got dark — and sometimes it was a heavy shade of twilight when he would finally tell me “three more throws, and then back inside.”
I played the “Y” league until I was old enough to play on the junior high, and then high school teams. After high school, I played in every intramural softball or adult league team I could find until the demands of fatherhood years later eventually made playing ball a luxury my time could no longer afford.
When I was younger, I got to go to Tiger games at the old park quite a few times with my dad, and I would always buy a program and keep score, a habit I continue until this day every time I go to a game. I feel privileged to have been a guest there in the late '70s through the early '90s. And I’m happy to say that I went to a game in 1984, when the Tigers made all metro-Detroiters’ dreams come true in that magical wire to wire championship year. I’ve been to Comerica Park, and it’s nice, but Tiger Stadium had so much history and charm — it’s hard to think of the Tigers playing in their new modern-day park without pining a bit for the old days.
But, in baseball, as in life, things have to change, and one of those changes is that I don’t play much baseball any more. But I’m not sad.
This year, my son starts little league, after starting his career playing T-ball and machine pitch. So, I still get to play with him and show him the benefit of the baseball knowledge my grandfather and dad passed down to me in the Burgeson family sport — baseball.
———
Cean Burgeson can be reached at: cburgeson@pioneergroup.net

Manistee residents look forward to another exciting Tiger season (MNA April 07)

By CEAN BURGESON
Associate Editor

Manistee may be 253 miles from Detroit’s Comerica Park, but local fans’ hearts were still with the Tigers as they opened up their season against the Toronto Blue Jays on Monday afternoon. Fans who were able to catch the game on television at AC’s First Street Tavern were excited at the Tigers’ prospects for this season.
“I think they’re probably favored, and deservedly so,” said Manistee native Steve Duchon, whose brother Dan, a season ticket holder, was actually at the game. “They’ve got the pitching staff that’s second to none.”
“I’m hoping they’ll go back to the World Series again,” said Aaron Wemple, owner of AC’s. First Street had the game on all of their televisions, and fans enjoyed lunch, a few drinks, and of course, talking baseball.
Most baseball fans enjoy trading opinions about players, sharing their statistical knowledge, and just enjoying the company of other fans. Manistee locals who watched the game were no different.
One hot topic was Tiger pitching. Duchon wasn’t concerned about recent news of ace pitcher Kenny Rogers’ surgery and subsequent absence for the next three or four months.
“It won’t hurt them without Kenny Rogers, in this period between now and July,” Duchon said. “Detroit’s solid — pitching, in their lineup, defensively. They’ve got guys in the minor leagues that would be playing professionally somewhere else.”
Other talk among fans watching the season opener was about the Tigers’ young team and their prospects for the years to come.
“That’s going to be their security blanket for the future,” Duchon said about the youth of the team, “because they’ll make some trades. They should stay pretty solid for a long time.”
During the four or five seasons previous to 2006, fans didn’t have much of a reason to be excited about our team. This was punctuated with the Tigers posting the worst record in all of baseball in 2003 — 119 losses, just one loss away from the worst record ever posted in the sport.
But last year’s turn-around, with the Tigers maintaining the best record in the major leagues for a good portion of the year, gave everyone a reason to cheer once again.
“How could you not be excited about the Tigers, really,” said Jim Kaminski, who was also watching the game over lunch at AC’s. “I was a 21-year-old kid when they won it in ‘84. That was exciting, and last year was exciting. I just hope they get to the next level, and get that World Series win. That’s what I hope, and that’s what we’re looking for.”
That is what all fans are looking for — another shot at making it to the big series — and a second chance at the title that eluded us last year.
Last season’s loss in the World Series to St. Louis didn’t get the fans down, though. Most were happy just to see the boys end up in the post-season, and perform so well. They hadn’t even made it to the playoffs in 19 years, their last appearance being back in 1987. “They were young, and really, the Cardinals just played a little bit better than they did when they needed to,” says Kaminski. “I think they had two good teams there, and one of them has gotta win, and one’s gotta lose.”
Part of the appeal of baseball is that on any given day, any team can come up a winner.
What it came down to, in the October Classic last year, was batting.
“I think the Tigers didn’t come up with the key hits, like the Cardinals did, when they needed to,” Kaminski said. “They (St. Louis) got the hits when they needed to — and that’s what baseball’s all about, coming up with the big hits at the right time.”
With Rogers out, the question of keeping the team healthy is always on the minds of fans. Last year’s slide at the end of the season, with the Tigers winning only 19 of their last 51, was puzzling. Without the wild-card berth, they wouldn’t have made it to the playoffs.
“That just happens, its baseball. Stuff like that happens,” says Kaminski. “You know, Polanco’s injury was huge, too. If you look at when he went down. He’s probably our best hitter, maybe the best hitter in the American league and all of baseball, for that matter. Look at the spring he had.”
If baseball fans are anything, they are optimists, and local fans are no different. “They just had a little slip. It’s all about when you peak, and they peaked at the right time,” says Kaminski.
Wemple has observed that baseball fans seem a little closer to the game than other patrons who come into his business to watch other sports like football or hockey. “I think baseball is a game that everybody had an opportunity to play as a kid,” he ways. “And we feel we’re still tied to the game a little bit.”
The fun part of a new season is the anticipation, and the speculation on our favorite team. I think we’ll see that Tiger fans can look forward to another great year of watching our team take another shot at baseball history.
“Last year, towards the end of the year, when the pennant races were going on, it was really exciting, and it was full here. A lot of people were excited and having fun. It was a good time,” says Wemple.
One thing can be sure — with 161 games left to watch yet this year, there will be plenty of clutch hits, walk-off homers, shutouts, great catches, and fantastic moments to entertain every fan of the Tigers this summer.
Cean Burgeson can be reached at: cburgeson@pioneergroup.net

SMOKE NIGHT (MNA April 07)

By CEAN BURGESON
Associate Editor

The sign on the wall says it best, “Enter as strangers, leave as friends.”
Surroundings on River Street in Manistee is filled with unique gifts and other items of interest to the pedestrian shopper downtown, but the main feature of the store is its walk-in humidor, and the best night to show up at the shop is smoke night, on the first and third Wednesdays of the month.
Last Wednesday evening’s get-together was made even more special, as master cigar roller Billy Perdomo, brother of Nick Perdomo, owner of Perdomo cigars, was in town to demonstrate his cigar rolling expertise, and to let the customers roll their own cigars under his expert tutelage.
“You roll it, you smoke it,” was the event’s motto.
“This is probably our most popular cigar,” says owner Oscar Carlson, who along with his wife Karen, started running the eclectic downtown shop two years ago. The store has an event like this about four times per year with the Perdomo company. “They come fourth of July weekend,” says Karen. “And then we do one in the winter time, and then spring and fall. This trip is unique, however, because of the cigar rolling that takes place.
Customers love the event. They enjoy hors d’oeuvres, take turns rolling cigars and talking with the representatives from Perdomo, relax and talk with each other in the smoke room, and of course — enjoy quality cigars.
“Billy gets out four or five weeks a year,” says Roger Sherburn, who is the local representative for Perdomo cigars. “And then we have several other rollers that go out and travel with the representatives too. We do rolling events fairly regularly, but they’re definitely kind of a special occasion.”
“It’s a lot of work, but it’s nice, because you really want to educate people on our products, and why we think ours is better than others,” says Billy. Perdomo’s company is different in that they actually allow people to learn from masters like Billy and get the hands-on experience of putting a leaf wrapper around a tube of tobacco to make a cigar. Very few cigar makers give the public this rare opportunity.
“Most of them will do straight-out rolling,” says Billy. “They bring someone difficult to communicate with. As far as the teaching, it’s kind of a lost art. You don’t see it that much anymore.”
But Billy isn’t difficult to speak to at all, and he has a sense of humor that usually ends up with his pupil being the butt of his jokes. One amateur roller finishes his cigar, and proudly holds it up, beaming with pride at what he has created. Billy doesn’t let him down easily.
“That one is too loose,” says Billy. “It wouldn’t pass inspection.”
The assembled group enjoys a laugh, and the next victim steps up to try their hand at rolling one that might pass Billy’s muster. Perdomo is open, knowledgeable, and will answer any question, which makes him an instant hit with customers, who become more like fans by the time the night is through. Regular customers come back whenever he is in town, and newcomers become instantly hooked on the rolling events.
Marc Soles comes up from Scottville for the smoke nights. “I’ve been to smoke night a half a dozen times so far,” he says. This was his first Perdomo cigar rolling event, and although he has been smoking cigars for years, this was the first time he had ever actually rolled his own cigar. “It took me a good five minutes. It was hard, because the leaves are very delicate.”
When Billy is asked how long it takes Perdomo craftsman to roll a cigar, he points to the student he has been tutoring for the last ten minutes through creating his first cigar and says, “not this long.” Professional rollers produce 300 finished cigars in an eight hour day.
“Obviously, they’re artisans,” said Soles. “They’re good at what they’re doing.” Soles wasn’t familiar with the brand before, but bought a Perdomo to try after working with the master and actually making one himself. Perdomo is a good teacher, because cigars are a long-standing tradition in his family.
Billy’s a third generation cigar maker. “My grandfather started,” he says. “He was originally a roller at a factory in Havana. He rolled there, and he became an apprentice, and then a master. My father went up the same ranks, and came to the United States in 1959. My grandfather became friends with Batista, who was against Fidel (Castro). My father got shot and had to come to the United States, and my grandfather went to prison in Cuba, where he stayed until 1970.”
“But my father, when he came (to the U.S.), he didn’t want anything to do with cigars, because he thought that it would never be the same thing that it once was. But my brother took a very big interest into the company, so he kind of restarted us back into it.”
Wanting his son to succeed, Billy’s father helped to get Nick and the business set up in Nicaragua with the factory and plantations. The company is still based in Nicaragua with a home office in Miami.
The company now sells cigars world-wide. “I’ve been to Russia, China — I’ve been all over the world,” says Billy. “I like the business very much.”
Although Billy has two daughters who haven’t shown an interest in the business, his brother has a 13-year-old son who will carry on the family tradition of fine cigar making. “If it was up to him, he’d start tomorrow,” says Billy.
As another smoke night neared its close, and Perdomo prepared to leave to continue his cigar-rolling tour in other shops around Michigan and the Mid-West, it was quite evident from looking around the smoking room at Surroundings that another group of cigar smokers had “entered as strangers and would leave as friends.”
Cean Burgeson can be reached at: cburgeson@pioneergroup.net

This time I don't mind admitting I was wrong (MNA April 07)

By CEAN BURGESON
Associate Editor

I’ll be the first one to admit when I’m wrong, and I had some doubts about a few of the Red Wings’ acquisitions this season. The first one I’m referring to was the pickup of on-again, off-again Red Wing, and former retiree Dominik Hasek.
I said earlier in the year that this was a gamble, so I’m not saying I was wrong. It was a gamble — one that fortunately paid off for Ken Holland, Mike Babcock, and the rest of the Wings. The reason it worked was because Hasek was deftly platooned with Chris Osgood, keeping him healthy and rested for the entire season.
Hasek even ended up playing more games than Babcock had originally projected — somewhere around 40 or 45, putting in over 55 games this year. His stats are good, too: 37 wins, 11 losses, and 6 overtime losses (which can be blamed more on weak overtime play by the Wings skaters than on the goaltending), and a league-leading 2.08 goals against average.
If he continues to perform, (knock on wood), he should prove to be formidable in the playoffs. He’s seasoned, and he’s been there before, so Hasek is a good person to have in the crease in the post-season.
Combined with Osgood, who has also made it to the end of the season, and knows the pressure associated, had a good season backing the Dominator up, with 19 games to date, pulling in 10 wins and three losses, and another five lost in OT, and a respectable 2.43 goals against average.
These two should prove to be a one-two punch in the playoffs, as they are arguably the best goalie duo in the NHL. And we all know how important goal-tending is in the post-season.
The other trade I was skeptical of — the 11th hour acquisition of Todd Bertuzzi — has been a most pleasant surprise. Having not played for nine months or so, Bertuzzi came off the bench like a cannon, mixing it up out on the ice, getting physical like we need him to, and raising the level of play for the entire team.
Calder, Markhov and the rest of the Wings seem to be following his cue, raising the level of physical play and adding some more aggressive shifts to the high level of puck handling and control the Wings already possessed — quite a nice package when you put them together.
In his short tenure wearing the red and white winged wheel on his chest, Bertuzzi seems to have fit right in, and is a joy to watch as he shakes off the rust accumulated while he was out with an injury. And to see him and Pavel Datsyuk hit each other with pass after pass on odd man rushes, breakaways, and during pressure play in the scoring zone. It’s almost as if the two had played together all year.
So, as the last four games of the regular season wind down, I will say that I had my doubts, but they were wiped away as I saw the plans of the Red Wings front office come to fruition.
So to Ken Holland, and Mike Babcock, I’m sorry I ever doubted you.
But I still reserve the right to maintain my journalistic skepticism...
Cean Burgeson can be reached at: cburgeson@pioneergroup.net

MARILLA: Doorway to Manistee’s past

By CEAN BURGESON
Associate Editor

In 1870, Marilla petitioned for and was granted township organization. Relatively unchanged today, this quaint corner of Manistee County has remained untarnished by strip malls, parking lots, and the other blights of urban sprawl since its inception.
The lumbering and trapping days which helped put Marilla on the map have since ebbed, but the area still maintains its charm and sense of history, thanks in large part to the Marilla Historical Society and Museum, along with the museum’s director, Jan Thomas, and the many volunteers who labor year-round to promote the area’s historical landmarks, buildings, and artifacts.
The museum, which is also the Township Hall and community center, has been in operation since the early 1980’s. “It’s a community building; a lot of things happen here,” says Thomas. “We have food bank, there’s a church that meets here every Sunday, TOPS, and our historical board.”
The town hall, like much of Marilla, has been kept true to its historical beginnings. “It’s changed a little, but not a lot,” says Thomas. With the closest major highway (M-115) five miles to the north, Marilla is off of the beaten path. The area wasn’t always so isolated, though.
Now just a raised earthen bed, a railroad track once ran through the area. “How enthused the people felt when the train came,” says Thomas. “Because we’re such an isolated community, and when the train came, that was bringing the world to them, and allowing them to go out into the world.”
This early growth and connection to the rest of the world brought some colorful characters and stories, as Thomas explains. “In the cemetery, there’s a tombstone that says George Lever, and it says ‘shot.’ The story we hear is that he was out hunting, foolishly — he was wearing a fur coat — and he was leaning over his kill, and someone shot him.”
Another early citizen was Nells Johnson. “He had never married, he lived by himself in the woods,” says Thomas. “Nells was an interesting gentleman.”
His re-imagined cabin lives on for the education of visitors on the museum grounds. “This cabin represents that self-sufficiency spirit of the early pioneering people. When he came, he lived in a little dugout in the bank. Then he built something called the ‘bark house.’ And then he built the cabin, himself.”
Johnson had quite an influence on the area’s early inhabitants. “He was a wonderful trapper, and a lot of the young men in the community would come out here and spend time with him in the woods and learn the skill of trapping.” Johnson was also what was called a “road monkey,” whose primary job was to clear manure and debris off of the logging trails for early lumberjacks.
The area holds a wealth of interesting lore about its people, and these are only two of the early Marilla settlers who are the root of a good yarn. “There’s just so many interesting stories I could tell you of the early people who came,” says Thomas.
Luckily, these stories are preserved by the Museum, and the people of Marilla for the enjoyment of visitors and tourists. “What we’re trying to do is interpret the agricultural forestry life,” says Thomas.
Farming, which despite the loss of logging in the area, still goes on, just as it did back when the township incorporated. “Farmers had a connection to the logging people,” explains Thomas. “Furnishing food to the hungry loggers. So they did very well. They prospered. They started out with seven farmers, and in eight to ten years time they were up to almost 80 farms.”
Many of the historical farms, farm buildings, and early businesses are still standing, and they all have their own stories. Because history is so alive in the township, Marilla is the perfect place to see how things were in Manistee County before urbanization and commercialization changed the landscape forever. “Marilla has not changed as much as some townships, and so it still is very very rural, and in a sense we’re still isolated in a way,” says Thomas.
In addition to their recent Sugar Bush Tour and Pancake Supper, which was held in March, the museum also has several other events on its calendar: a Strawberry Social on June 23, an Open House and Antiques Appraisal on Aug. 18, and their Autumn Reflections event on October 13. School trips are always welcome, and a special treat is the Tea and Tour. “When you come to visit, plan on spending two to three hours visiting. A very special part of your visit is being served a delicious dessert plate with cheese and fruit accompanied by a fresh brewed tea in the Pioneer House Kitchen,” boasts the museum brochure.
For additional information on how to sample a piece of Manistee County and Marilla’s history or events at the Museum, contact Jan Thomas: (231) 362-3430.
Cean Burgeson can be reached at: cburgeson@pioneergroup.net

Acupuncture: An ancient art in modern practice (MNA April 07)

By CEAN BURGESON
Associate Editor

For most people, the idea of having a needle put into your body isn’t looked upon as a favorable experience — but for anyone who has actually had the opportunity to have an Acupuncture session, the undertaking is no longer looked upon with anxiety or apprehensiveness.
Acupuncture is rapidly being accepted as an effective form of complementary medicine in the United States. Unknown of 30 years ago, acupuncture is now used successfully by millions of Americans to treat pain and disease. This form of treatment has not only survived the scrutiny of Western science and controlled, double-blind studies, it has been endorsed by a National Institute of Health consensus committee for use as treatment for many health disorders. The World Health Organization identifies over 40 conditions that acupuncture successfully treats. Currently, the National Institutes of Health are funding several studies on the effectiveness of acupuncture in the treatment of certain conditions.
Manistee County residents don’t have to travel far to receive treatments, either. Margaret Batzer, who operates Healing Perspectives, is a nationally board-certified Acupuncturist (NCCAOM). She holds a Master’s degree in Acupuncture and Oriental Medicine from the Oregon College of Oriental Medicine in Portland. Her training included over 3,000 hours in Acupuncture, Chinese Herbology, Western sciences, and Shiatsu — all of which she practices at her Manistee facility for patients.
“It’s a nationally accredited program,” says Batzer. “As part of our training, we studied Acupuncture, traditional Chinese medicine theory, Chinese dietary therapy, meditation, Asian body-work therapy, and then we also have pretty extensive background in Western sciences as well. We studied anatomy, physiology, and can diagnose really basic things, so we can refer out to other practitioners as appropriate. Just about anyone I am working with, also is working with their primary care physician as well.”
Acupuncture does not seek to replace any other form of treatment, but rather, complement other forms of medicine. Batzer refers patients to other practitioners, and they refer patients to her as well. “I refer to massage therapists, chiropractors — really any other health care provider.”
There is a long list of ailments which Acupuncture will work to alleviate. “Common conditions that I treat,” says Batzer, “are back pain and sciatica — the number one conditions that I treat — and various body pains and aches, like headache pain or migraines. I also treat a lot of Sinusitus, digestive disorders; and I also work part time at the West Michigan Regional Cancer and Blood Center. So, I treat folks for affective chemotherapy, and other issues that they’re dealing with along with their conventional cancer treatments.”
Batzer decided to become an Acupuncturist after having her own favorable treatment experience. “Acupuncture helped my asthma, and after my experience with that, I really wanted to learn more about it, and how I would be able to help other people in the same way that I’d been helped.”
There are some misconceptions about Acupuncture, and what the practice actually entails. Acupuncture uses extremely fine, sterile needles, which are inserted at specific points in the body to restore balance. Electromagnetic research has confirmed the location of traditional Acupuncture points. Practitioners like Batzer use a detailed theoretical framework over 2,500 years old to diagnose patterns of “disharmony” that causes disease.
Acupuncture is rapidly becoming more commonplace in Michigan, and is being noticed more by the medical community and the general public here in the state.
“We now have an Acupuncture Registration Bill which has been passed in the state of Michigan, and right now the Acupuncture Board is working on establishing what standards will be so people can register under the bill,” explains Batzer. “Michigan was one of the last seven states that didn’t have some sort of regulation on the practice of Acupuncture, so we’re really stepping into the complementary medicine mainstream.”
Treatments usually take an hour and a half to two hours for the initial visit, and about an hour and a half for follow up visits. Patients have a medical history taken at their first visit, then receive a pulse and tongue diagnosis. The Acupuncturist then determines how to treat based on the meridians of the body.
“There are 12 different meridians,” explains Batzer. “And then there are eight extra meridians. The 12 meridians are basically like the superhighways of qi (pronounced ‘chee’) in the body, and the additional eight are sort of like the reservoirs.” Qi, also commonly spelled ch’i or ki, is a fundamental concept of traditional Chinese culture. Qi is believed to be part of every living thing that exists, as a kind of “life force” or “spiritual energy.”
“Depending on the condition that they’re coming in for, I’ll choose appropriate meridians to treat that,” says Batzer. “All of these different meridians have relationships with one another, which is part of how I construct treatment for people. Each channel also has its associated organ.“
At that point, Batzer will make a Chinese differentiated diagnosis to treat the problem, and may recommend Chinese herbal medicine in addition to the Acupuncture treatment, which she has right in her office.
Sessions consist of having the patient lie down on a table, with soothing music, comfortable pillows to help the recipient relax, and then the insertion of the needles, around 15 to 20, according to Batzer. “I never know how many I’m going to use until I actually get started,” says Batzer.
Patients then relax and let the needles do their work on the pressure points for about 45-60 minutes. The experience is similar to a therapeutic massage or a spa treatment in comfortability level, and involves no pain or discomfort. “Sometimes there is feeling of pressure when the needle first goes in. Some patients say it feels like a pin prick, others don’t feel anything at all,” says Batzer.
If there is an unusual amount of sensation at the Acupuncture point, all it takes is a deft adjustment by Batzer to relieve the pressure a little. There is no pain to endure — the entire procedure is a pleasurable experience.
The response to a treatment varies with the individual. Many people notice immediate total or partial relief from pain or other symptoms. For others, the results may take a few days or a few treatments. “Part of it depends on the person’s general state of health,” says Batzer. “Part of it depends on the type of condition they’re coming in for, how long they’ve had that condition, and how severe it is.”
For anyone seeking an additional treatment for their medical ailments, Acupuncture is definitely an avenue that has been proven to work, and should be considered — and most importantly — not feared.
Cean Burgeson can be reached at: cburgeson@pioneergroup.net

You can't judge a best friend by his name (MNA April 07)

By CEAN BURGESON
Associate Editor

My best friend is a Dork.
That may sound mean to some of you, so let me explain. My best friend of over 30 years has the unique and sometimes difficult to believe moniker of: Steven A. Dork.
As you might have guessed, this name — what some may call unfortunate — has caused some leers, laughs, and giggles to come his way over the years, but he’s persevered, and never let it get him down.
He wears his name like a badge of honor.
The story of the name, as I’m told, is that it was shortened to Americanize it from Dvorak. That’s right — the same name as the famous late nineteenth century Czechoslavakian composer who wrote nine symphonies, fourteen string quartets, and nine operas.
So, from the lineage of a European musical genius came a name which, when the second and second to last letters were taken out, now means something far different. Today, as you are most likely aware, Dork is a term of abuse favored by Americans, designating the target of its use as quirky, awkward, eccentric, socially inept or simply of lower status.
Similar epithets include nerd and geek, but that’s not true at my house.
No, we don’t use the word much. Because the Dorks to us are my family friends of more than 30 years, and my best friend’s wife Kathy. Steve’s kids, Cameron and Spencer Dork, are even my godsons, and quite frankly, I feel un-loyal using the word in a derogatory sense, and have for a long time.
I met Steve some time around Kindergarten in Sunday school of all places. And we’ve been buds ever since.
We went to the same church (were acolytes together, went through confirmation, youth group, and many church retreats), attended the same grade-school from fifth grade on, went to Walter P. Reuther Junior High together, then Rochester High School, and four years as college roommates at Michigan State University. He was the best man at my wedding, and I at his.
He was there with me for every major event in my life, really.
No matter where I’ve lived, he’s come to visit me, too, from Washington D.C. to Los Angeles; and we make time every summer to play a round of golf or two — it’s one of our traditions.
My kids are friends with his kids, and we get together with them at their cabin in Traverse City or at our house whenever possible. And no trip down to see my folks in Rochester Hills is complete without dropping by to see the Dorks.
He coming from a family of three sisters, and I having a solitary girl sibling, Steve and I are each the brother the other one never had. We’ve been a duo for all this time, Burg and the Dorker.
And as corny as it sounds, we’ve been there for each other whenever times were good, or bad. I could always count on Steve, and I hope he has always been able to count on me.
So I’d put my best friend up against anyone else’s — because I’m proud that my best friend is a Dork.
Cean Burgeson can be reached at: cburgeson@pioneergroup.net

Every decade or so, being a Spartan pays off (MNA April 07)

By CEAN BURGESON
Associate Editor

There are some who shovel manure for a living. Still others are sewer inspectors or roadkill-removal specialists (I saw all of these on the Discovery Channel’s “Dirty Jobs”, so I know what I’m talking about).
And then there is one of the most difficult, unappreciated, unthankful — and difficult things to be — a Spartan fan.
We are loathed by those who follow the maize and blue. We are disliked and disdained by anyone who sees our school and our athletic programs as inferior.
That’s okay. I equally loathe those guys from Ann Arbor. As the old saying goes, my two favorite teams are Michigan State and whoever is playing Michigan.
But the seem to chalk up a few more wins than we do in certain sports. And it gets frustrating, I’ll admit.
Yet we Spartans still cheer. And hope. And pray. And are often disappointed.
But not this time baby!
Every decade or so, all of the collective “stuff” we eat as our Michigan State teams fall short of their dreams again and again and we endure the mockery of Wolverines, Buckeyes, Fighting Irishmen, and other assorted hecklers — is worth it.
And we are vindicated — at least for a little while.
This time, our salvation came a day before Easter as the Spartans won the NCAA hockey championship, beating Boston College, despite coming into the contest as the underdog; a position we’ve become used to over the years.
But, today, and for the next year, we can say we are the national champions, although it didn’t come easily.
In true Spartan fashion, the boys in green and white couldn’t just win the game outright, either. They had to make us sweat.
They trailed for much of the game, and just when the Spartan fan collective was starting to think, “here we go again,” then tied it up in the final period. Before we even had a chance to google the NCAA playoff hockey rules to see how they handle a tie, it happened.
It was that moment Spartan fans seldom get to experience, the clutch score in the final seconds, as Justin Abdelkader (which the announcers always make sound like abdicator) gave us the go-ahead with 18.9 seconds on the clock.
An open net goal with a few seconds left on the clock sealed the deal — and even the M.S.U. skaters couldn’t believe it had actually happened. They congratulated each other, and one after the other stared at the clock and you could read their lips as they muttered “I can’t believe it.”
We couldn’t believe it either, boys.
Boston College had a better record (29-12-1) made it to the Frozen Four seven of the last 10 years, and had outscored its opponents 61-23 during their winning streak. B.C. boasts 12 NHL draft picks on their roster.
Few pundits picked Michigan State. As usual.
So, as I watched the Boston players hang their heads in disbelief, because they had traveled to the finals two years in a row and come up short, I recognized that look on their faces.
Because it is the look usually found on the faces of Spartan hockey, football, basketball — and even baseball and lacrosse players for all I know. Because we’re usually the ones who got upset, or embarrassed, or sent home disappointed.
That’s why being a Spartan fan is so great when we catch a break and finally win one. Because when the win finally does come, it’s all that much sweeter. It’s been 20 years since our appearance in the finals, so we’re gonna milk this one for all it’s worth, too.
I’m a fan of Michigan State because I love the school. I graduated with both of my degrees from Moo U.
That’s why I tell people I root for the Spartans.
I’m a fan for the same reason I love my family so unconditionally. Not because they’re always good — because I have to — I’m one of ‘em.
Cean Burgeson can be reached at: cburgeson@pioneergroup.net

A ruffled mind makes a restless pillow (MNA March 07)

“If a man had as many ideas during the day as he does when he has insomnia, he'd make a fortune.”
- Griff Niblack

By CEAN BURGESON
Associate Editor

It is a curse I have lived with for 20 years or so.
Since my teens, I’ve been an acute insomnia sufferer. For long stretches, days, weeks, a month — I go to sleep, fall right asleep, and sleep through the night.
But every so often — I just lay there — in the darkness; wide awake, with no hope of the sand man arriving any time soon.
Sometimes I can’t sleep because my mind will spin endlessly about the events of the day, some little act in the great film that is my life which I wish I could do over, fix, or re-shoot. Or I’ll obsess about the future, the kids, the threat of global thermonuclear war, the price of gas, whether the Tigers will ever win another world series. Other times, a song will get stuck in my head, and replay over, and over...and over.
I’ve come to grips with the fact that my body may be weary, but my mind is still working overtime. “There’s so much to do,” my brain shouts, “you can’t go to sleep now!”
It used to really bother me, not sleeping. I’d get all wound up because I couldn’t sleep, and it would aggravate my condition even further. I’d roll over again and again, and each time another hour would fly by on those little red numbers on my clock. I’d look at it, groan, and think: “if i can just fall to sleep now, I’ll get 6 hours of rest,” then, later, “if I fall asleep now I’ll get five good hours in,” and “If I just got to sleep now, I can get two good hours in,” and so on, until it eventually was six in the morning and I’d just give up.
The day after one of these episodes, I’ll walk the halls at work like a zombie, sucking up as much liquid cafeine, canned energy drinks, and pre-processed sugary snacks as I can, in order to get myself into a state where I can function at a bare minimum of efficiency. At some point, around two o’clock in the afternoon, the inevitable crash comes, and I have to fight to keep awake.
Later that night, despite the tiredness, when it comes time to go to bed, I will STILL have trouble falling asleep. Usually, after a week or so of this night-time torture, my body finally gives out and I go into a coma and sleep okay for another month or so.
The problem hasn’t gotten better in recent years. It’s gotten worse.
I only used to have insomnia about every six months. As I aged, it would happen more often; every three months, then two, then every month would inevitably bring a period of time where the blissful state of sleep just eludes me.
I used to stress out about the loss of sleep, so I made every attempt to rectify the problem. I tried exercising more, exercising less before bed, not eating after 6 p.m., eating after 6 p.m., cutting out caffeine, drinking less alcohol, drinking MORE alcohol, overdosing on Ny-Quil, herbal remedies...but nothing worked. I even got some of those pills from the doctor to get me back onto a regular sleeping schedule, which worked for a month or so. Then it was back to the same old routine.
I was faced with only one alternative.
I embraced the insomnia. I made it my friend.
Now, if I can’t fall asleep, I simply get up and do something. I watch TV, read a book, surf the Internet; anything to occupy my time until I can fall asleep naturally. And I changed my thinking about insomnia. Instead of feeling cursed, as I mentioned earlier, I try now to think of not being able to sleep as my own special super-power. Like the guys on the television show “Heroes.”
My new philosophy is not that I CAN’T sleep — it’s that I don’t NEED to sleep.
Yeah, that’s the ticket...
Since I incorporated this change in attitude, my mental state has improved. I snooze only when I’m tired.
When those no-sleep gremlins bite, I get up and use my newly found free time to do something I enjoy. I relax, unwind, or do whatever makes me happy. As the time ticks by on yet another restless evening, I no longer care. When 4 a.m. comes around, and I haven’t slept yet, I just think of all the free time I now have because of my special powers.
I am a brand new breed of super-hero. I am “no-sleep man.” While others must rest, I am tiling the floor in the basement. I am doing dishes. I am cleaning my workshop. I am writing a column. I am playing Xbox.
Sleep? What a waste! I laugh at slumber! Sleep is for mere mortals!
So, if you drive by my house at 3 a.m. and the lights are still on, you’ll know why.
And if you call me at 10:30 a.m. the next day, and I’m sleeping, don’t judge me. I’m not lazy.
No-sleep man was just on duty last night, that’s all.
Cean Burgeson can be reached at cburgeson@pioneergroup.net

Is Bertuzzi right for the Wings? (MNA Feb. 07)

By CEAN BURGESON
Associate Editor

The Detroit Red Wings acquired Todd Bertuzzi from Florida just before Tuesday's trading deadline, supposedly adding the tough forward they wanted to help them in the Stanley Cup playoffs. This begs the question:
What?
The 6-foot-3, 245-pound Bertuzzi hasn't played since he had lower back surgery in November, after being sidelined for more than two weeks by a herniated disk. So what can he bring to the team?
He has only one goal and six assists in seven games after being acquired last summer in a trade that sent goaltender Roberto Luongo to Vancouver. Babcock can’t possibly want him for his goal producing ability,then.
Could he be adding him to the staff for pure goon factor alone?
Let’s not forget how hated this man is in the NHL and among hockey fans, alike. While playing for the Canucks, Bertuzzi attacked Colorado's Steve Moore in one of hockey's ugliest episodes — if not the ugliest ever — in March 2004.
On Feb. 16, 2004, during a Vancouver-Colorado game, player Steve Moore injured Vancouver Canucks team captain Markus Näslund by striking him in the head with his elbow while Markus Näslund was reaching for a puck ahead of him with his head low. Markus Näslund suffered a minor concussion and a bonechip in his elbow as a result of the hit. The attending referee did not call a penalty on the play. The hit was later reviewed by the NHL and no suspension or further discipline was administrated to Moore. This drew the ire of many Vancouver Canucks as their captain was sidelined with a concussion for three games. Canucks head coach Marc Crawford publicly criticized the non-call by the referees on the incident.
It was a missed call, and a bad one at that, I’ll admit. But it didn’t warrant what happened next.
During another Vancouver-Colorado game three weeks after the Naslund hit, on March 8, 2004, Steve Moore fought Matt Cooke in the first period. Late in the third period, Bertuzzi began following Steve Moore down the ice attempting to instigate a fight. When Moore ignored him, Bertuzzi punched Moore in the side of the head. Anyone who saw this could describe it only as a “sucker punch.”
Then, the hockey world watched in awe as the fight escalated well beyond what is the accepted norm for hockey brawling in any era of the game.
Bertuzzi grabbed hold of Moore's jersey before driving him headfirst into the ice. Watching the replay of this hit — by far the cheapest one I’ve ever witnessed in the sport — was sickening.
As a result of the hit, Moore suffered three fractured vertebrae in his neck, a grade three concussion, vertebral ligament damage, stretching of the brachial plexus nerves, and facial cuts. For this, Bertuzzi served a 17-month suspension, glossed over and almost forgotten due to the 2004-2005 lockout, which resulted in a lost season of hockey for everyone.
So, I ask again, what exactly were coach Mike Babcock and manager Ken Holland thinking when they picked up Todd Bertuzzi?
In exchange, the Panthers acquired forward Shawn Matthias and up to two conditional draft picks in the deal. If Bertuzzi signs with Detroit when he becomes a free agent after the season, the Red Wings will part with one pick this year and another next year. It hardly seems worthwhile to lose picks in order to keep a much-loathed goon like Bertuzzi on the roster.
Hopefully, the wisdom of this strange transaction in the 11th hour of the trade deadline will somehow be made clear in the coming months and with the start of the NHL playoffs in April. Because, for the time being, the Wings’ front office has me scratching my head on this one.
Cean Burgeson can be reached at: cburgeson@pioneergroup.net

Movies I'm embarrassed to love

By CEAN BURGESON
Associate Editor

• Heat — No, not the one you’re thinking of with Robert DeNiro and Al Pacino. This Heat is a 1972 film starring Burt Reynolds and Peter McNichol of Aly McBeal fame. Reynolds plays an ex-soldier-of-fortunish character in Las Vegas, taking "chaperone" jobs, fighting with the mob, and trying to get enough money together to move to Venice, Italy. He takes the nebbish, nerdy computer magnate McNichol under his wing, teaching him how to be a tough guy. The film is filled with tons of action, and even though it is definitely dated, it still has some raw appeal, a buddy film feel, and a great action-filled ending.

• Lone Wolf McQuade — Before there was Walker: Texas Ranger, there was J.J. McQuade, played by Chuck Norris in 1983, during the height of his career. McQuade is the archetypical renegade Texas Ranger who wages war against a drug kingpin (played extremely well by David Carradine; even more evil than his Kill Bill character) with automatic weapons, his wits and martial arts after a gun battle leaves his partner dead. All of this inevitably culminates in a classic martial arts showdown between Norris and Carradine, and the accidental death of the woman they both love. The question is finally answered: Who is tougher, Caine from Kung Fu or high kicking movie tough guy Norris?

• Battle Beyond the Stars — The classic film Seven Samaurai has be remade time and time again as films like the The Magnificent Seven, a film I’m not embarrassed to love. It’s the formula you’ve all seen before: a band of diverse heroes in outer space are assembled to defend a planet of peaceful colonists from an armada of aggressors. If the special effects look familiar, it is because you've seen the same space sequences recycled in other low budget SF films. This Roger Corman classic stars Richard Thomas, The Waltons’ John-boy, the great Robert Vaughn, playing the exact same character he played in The Magnificent Seven, and George Peppard, who was a long way from Breakfast at Tiffany’s, and much closer to his stint on TV’s The A-Team. It’s typical Corman cheese, with a predictable ending, but what can I say? It’s a formula that works.

• Can’t Buy Me Love — Grey’s Anatomy’s Patrick Dempsey is Ronald Miller, typical school nerd, who everyone ignores, especially his extremely hot next door neighbor, popular girl Cindy Mancini, played by Amanda Peterson. It’s a simple plot. Cindy borrows a suede outfit belonging to her mother without her permission. At a party someone spills red wine on it and she has to come up with $1000 to buy a new one in order to avoid getting into trouble. Ronald offers to buy the new outfit in exchange for her to pretend they are dating so he will become popular. This all works until Ronald starts getting a big head due to his newly found cool status. In the words of one of the characters in the movie, he “goes from totally geek to totally sheik.” He learns a very valuable lesson, and still gets the girl in the end, who finds out that she really likes him for who he is, and not who he pretended to be. It’s all very sweet and satisfying. I saw this on a high school date in 1986 with a girl who was a cheerleader. I didn’t fare as well as Ronald.

• Bring it On — For some reason, I seem to like films that only 15 year old girls should like, such as Mean Girls, Freaky Friday,and this feature, which was released in 2000. I read this script when it was first written, while working as a lowly talent assistant in Los Angeles when it was under the working title Cheer Fever. At the time, I couldn’t believe a studio was making a movie about cheer leading.
It breaks down like this. The Toro cheerleading squad from Rancho Carne High School in San Diego has got spirit, spunk, sass and a killer routine that's sure to land them the national championship trophy for the sixth year in a row. But for newly-elected team captain Torrance (Kirsten Dunst), the Toros' road to total cheer glory takes a shady turn when she discovers that their perfectly-choreographed routines were in fact stolen from the Clovers, a hip-hop squad from East Compton, by the Toro's former captain. This is high-drama for the high school crowd.
While the Toros scramble to come up with a new routine, the Clovers, led by squad captain Isis (Gabrielle Union) have their own problems — coming up with enough money to cover their travel expenses to the championships. With time running out and the pressure mounting, both captains drive their squads to the point of exhaustion: Torrance, hell bent on saving the Toros' reputation, and Isis more determined than ever to see that the Clovers finally get the recognition that they deserve. But only one team can bring home the title, so may the best moves win.
It’s like watching a live-action teen novel. But for some reason, the tension of the competition keeps me drawn in. I would deny ever watching this film if anyone ever asked me, it is such a guilty pleasure.

A little more common courtesy (MNA March 07)

By CEAN BURGESON
Associate Editor

When did people stop being polite? Americans are an angry, confrontational, in-your-face group of people.
And it shows.
It’s difficult to put a finger on how this started. And what do we have to be so angry about? We live in the greatest country in the world and enjoy the many splendors of living in a free democratic society.
If a theater patron forgets to turn off their cell phone and it rings during the previews, someone in the crowd yells “turn that @#$% thing off!” If someone accidentally distracts a golfer in another group while he is teeing off, coarse words are exchanged. If someone gets up to take their child to the bathroom during a sporting event, a fan yells “down in front!”
We’ve all seen all of these things happen — and more.
How hard is it to introduce yourself politely and ask nicely for someone to turn off their phone, please be quiet, or say “thanks for moving out of my way so I can see the game, I appreciate it?”
We’ve become a rude society, especially with strangers, the very people we should use a higher level of etiquette towards.
But what counts as rudeness today? Do Americans have a shared definition of what is rude? In a recent survey called “Aggravating Circumstances,” funded by The Pew Charitable Trusts, researchers took a detailed look at what Americans think about courtesy, manners, rudeness and respect.
Not only do eight in 10 Americans in the study say a lack of respect and courtesy is a serious problem, but six in 10 say things have become worse in recent years. A surprising 41 percent admit that they're part of the problem and sometimes behave badly themselves. More than a third (35 percent) admit to being aggressive drivers, at least occasionally, while 17 percent of those with cell phones admit to using them in a loud or annoying way.
We’ve all been witness to the road-rager or the public-place cell phone loud-talker. Some people just need to be politely reminded. We all make mistakes. But too often we treat each other with disrespect in these situations.
Customer service situations were prominent in the survey’s findings. Three-quarters of those surveyed said they've often seen customers treat sales staff rudely — while 46 percent also say they've walked out of a store because of the way the staff treated them. Nearly everyone surveyed (94 percent) said it's frustrating to "call a company and get a recording instead of a human being," and 77 percent said telemarketing is "rude and pushy."
Yet the news isn't all bad — many positive experiences occur in the marketplace. Nearly half of those surveyed say they often meet people who are kind and considerate in stores and other similar places. Many Americans say things have gotten better in showing respect and consideration to African Americans (59 percent), people with physical disabilities (51 percent) and gay people (50 percent). Large numbers acknowledge, however, that treatment of those groups still needs improvement (45 percent for gays, 42 percent for African Americans, and 34 percent for the disabled).
The warmth and support shown after the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks raised hopes among many that Americans would reconsider what was important in their lives. I visited New York for the first time exactly one year after the disaster, and was astounded at how many people stopped to help me navigate the subway in Manhattan when I was unsure of which train to take in order to meet a friend.
Having lived on the East Coast myself and personally witnessed the infamous “New York attitude” associated with this group of people, I had to say I was pleasantly surprised at how this tragic event pulled together a whole city and helped them to return to a state where they were a little more considerate of their fellow man.
The Pew survey echoed my feelings. Almost three-quarters of those surveyed said that people had become more caring and thoughtful to others because of the attacks. But only 34 percent said the feeling would last a long time; 46 percent thought it would only last a few months and 18 percent believed it was already over.
With war raging, and other issues here in America taking the forefront of our daily concerns such as the economy, gas prices, joblessness, and the like, it’s easy to put our manners on the back burner. Yet most human enterprises proceed more smoothly if people are respectful and considerate of one another, and they easily become poisoned if people are unpleasant and rude.
As the old saying goes, politeness goes far, yet costs nothing.
Cean Burgeson can be reached at: cburgeson@pioneergroup.net

Career journey of a writer (MNA Feb. 07)

By CEAN BURGESON
Associate Editor

I got a phone call the other day, and in the midst of small talk, the caller asked me how I liked my job.
This took me back a little bit. So I thought about it.
I’ve had a lot of jobs in my life. And most of the time, they’ve just been a paycheck, or a way to the next step up the ladder.
Then the realization hit me. I actually DO like my job. How many times have I been able to say this over the past 21 years?
Not very many. So I started to think about the jobs I’ve held in my life.
My first job, at 15 years old, was as a busboy at a now long-gone restaurant called “Scallops.” You guessed it, they served seafood. It was a cool job, because I got tips from the waitresses in addition to my meager $2.52 an hour salary. I did that job until I went away to college. I even came back in the summers and advanced to the position of waiter. It wasn’t a glamorous job, and I can’t say I ever loved it – except there were always a lot of cute “busgirls” and waitresess that I worked with who helped me to pass the time until my shift ended each night.
While I was in college, I worked a bunch of different jobs. One was at the bookstore during “book rush,” that time of year when the students flooded the store in search of their school supplies. I didn’t mind that job too much, because, once again, there were plenty of young attractive female students who needed assistance finding a used copy of “Calculus 101” or Cliff’s Notes on “To Kill a Mockingbird.”
I did have at least one job back then that I absolutely hated. I worked for one month, just one month...at Burger King. I was desperate, the savings were almost depleted. So I worked the graveyard shift, which meant an extra 50 cents per hour, but for that extra monetary incentive, I had to break down the fryer and scrape — that’s right, I said scrape — layers and layers of grease off of all the fryer components. There were about 52 different stainless steel pieces that I would toil over nightly, and I couldn’t leave until they were spotlessly clean.
I hated that job. I hated the grease scraper. I hated the polyester uniform. I hated the little hat I wore. But I liked the manager. I even ended up dating her a few times. (I’m starting to see a pattern here with my pre-marriage jobs.)
As soon as I got the chance, I found another restaurant job. It was a brand new place on a golf course. I worked my way up from busboy, to waiter, and then to bartender. I also got to know the course pro and played rounds of golf and hit buckets of balls on the range at no charge. (Free drinks will get you a lot of perks.) It was a pretty sweet deal. I made good money, always had cash on me, and somehow was able to always barely make rent money on the last day of the month. (I was usually short with the rent because I spent some of the rent budget on beer.)
I didn’t love that job, but it was work, nonetheless, and of course there were plenty of attractive waitresses there as well. I stayed there for over five years.
One of the worst jobs I had during college was the one summer I was assistant manager of a Payless Shoesource in Pontiac. The store wasn’t in a nice neighborhood, so I didn’t have any trouble getting the job. The store was constantly shoplifted, and the one Sunday I took off all summer was the same one in which the manager was robbed at knife point. He was filling in for me on my shift so I could go to a wedding. I couldn’t wait for that summer to be over.
Back at school, I was a research assistant for a Telecommunications professor from Austria for a while. The job was boring, but he sounded a lot like Arnold Schwarzenegger, so at least the position was amusing. I also worked as a production assistant for WKAR TV, working camera, audio, and floor directing live shows. That was actually fun, but there were some boring times, like when I had to work shooting MSU classes that were broadcast to remote locations via satellite. The chemistry and science classes were the most snore-inspiring sessions. We actually had camera people pass out while shooting those programs; I was never sure if it was from boredom or not.
After school I worked in advertising sales for a cable company. I hated cold calling, but I did get an account at a golf course on a trade, so we took “clients” to play free golf about three days a week. We also had a driving range set up outside the back door of our production studio. That worked pretty well, until the industrial park manager busted us for hitting golf balls into the neighboring construction site.
When my wife got a job in Washington D.C., I took a job as an editor at a place called “The Video Editor” (real original name, I know). People would bring in their home movies on video or film, and I was tasked with editing them together, adding titles, and music. I’ve edited weddings, bar/bat mitzvahs, demo reels for wannabe actors, product demonstrations, and even a videotape of a woman giving birth in her home (that was a little creepy.) That didn’t last long, as I loathed doing America’s Funniest Home Videos for a living.
So I started selling production services for a TV production facility, but just wasn’t satisfied with the work. I’d yearned for my entire lifetime to do something creative with my career, and this wasn’t it. This inspired me to move to California and work in the entertainment industry. I started at the bottom rung, as a lowly assistant. I ended my career in Hollywood two years later — still as an assistant — but with three unproduced screenplays under my belt — yea!
After moving back to Michigan, I kicked around some more, working as a temp at a CPA firm, and even did one day as a construction temp. Then came work at the casino — blackjack dealer, payroll, inventory, Information Technology nerd...but I still was missing something. When I left there, I free-lanced for a year, doing a lot of writing, miscellaneous communications work, and cashing few paychecks, but I was getting closer.
Then, by accident, I saw the listing for the job at the newspaper. And the rest is history, as they say. Write for a living? I can handle that.
It took 21 years to find out what I really like, but I finally got here. I’m sure when I tell my kids this in the ensuing years, when they have their own career frustrations, they will groan.
And I don’t blame them. Everyone has to find their own way. Hopefully we all all find our bliss, eventually.
And if you’re lucky, it won’t take 21 years.
Cean Burgeson can be reached at: cburgeson@pioneergroup.net

Alternative endings to Hollywood favorites (MNA Feb. 07)

By CEAN BURGESON
Associate Editor

My wife is a sucker for the formulaic Hollywood happy ending.
All of the loose ends in the film need to be tied up nice and neat for her at the completion of the film, or she feels a little bit cheated. Many a time the screen has turned to black and the credits start rolling, and I see her searching for something to throw at the TV while she screams, “But what happens next!”
I can’t say I blame her. As the old saying goes, “everybody likes a happy ending.”
I, on the other hand, am a big fan of films that break the genre, or go against the typical formula, with twists and turns, and endings that surprise me.
But I also have to admit, the selfish side of me, at times wishes that some movies would end differently, or that they would go on just a few more minutes, and let us know what happened next. This is what I like to call an “alternative movie ending fantasy.”
In the 1969 classic, “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid,” the final scene has our two heroes low on ammunition, bleeding, and surrounded by Bolivian Federalis. As they make their last stand, the action freezes, and we hear a hail of gunshots.
It’s a brilliant final scene.
But a little part of me wishes that the action didn’t freeze; that the boys kept running. My ending would go something like this: The boys shoot their way out in one of the goriest filmed western scenes since “The Wild Bunch,” kill about 50 of the Federalis, steal a couple of fresh horses, and ride off into the setting sun. They happen upon a quiet little village to retire to, and live happily ever after, under false identities.
Aaaah. How satisfying.
And who could forget Saturday Night Live’s imagined ending to “It’s a Wonderful Life?” After the whole town turns out to pitch in their collective savings and bail old George Bailey out his financial predicament, someone in the crowd discovers that it was indeed Potter who took the Savings and Loan’s missing $8,000. In true mob fashion, everyone goes over to the bank and takes turns tuning up Potter for stealing the money. George and Mary even get a chance to pummel the warped frustrated old man repeatedly after he is dumped from his wheelchair. It always bothered me that the mean old S.O.B. got to keep the eight grand.
Aaaah. The bad guy gets what’s coming to him.
How about the 1950 classic, “Sunset Boulevard?” Poor hack writer Joe Gillis. He wasn’t trying to hurt anybody, surely not aging silent movie queen Norma Desmond. Did he really deserve to die? In my imagined ending, Joe would have the guts to leave that nut-job Desmond, hook up with his love interest Betty Schaefer, and live happily ever after. The two would team up writing hit movie after hit movie in the ensuing years. Some time later, Desmond would die, and, remembering the joy Joe brought her during their brief affair, leave him a boatload of money.
Aaaah. The boy gets the girl. And doesn’t end up face down in the pool with a bullet in his back. And he ends up rich!
I’ve always thought that the incest revelation ending of Roman Polanski’s “Chinatown” was just plain creepy. How about instead, Evelyn’s sister is not really her daughter, and according to plan, they both escape to Mexico safely. Rather than “Forget it, Jake, it’s only Chinatown,” we instead hear, “Good job Jake, now that’s Chinatown.”
Aaaah. The innocent victims escape the bad guys. And there’s no lewd sexual triangle involved.
A lot of endings have people getting killed, and while it makes for a gritty, more realistic, non-Hollywood ending, it sometimes leaves us, the audience, a little unsatisfied. Take “The Bridge on the River Kwai,” for example. Wouldn’t it have been great if Colonel Nicholson, played brilliantly by Sir Alec Guiness, helped Commander Shears, played by Bill Holden, to blow the damned Japanese bridge up instead of trying to stop him? And then, Nicholson lives to finally escape the prisoner of war camp, and is lauded as a hero by his countrymen upon his triumphant return. In my cut, they’d get to build their bridge and blow it up, too. And live to tell their grandchildren.
And how many people wish that Jack Nicholson didn’t get labotomized at the end of “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest?” (I hope this didn’t spoil it for anyone). It’s a wonderfully bittersweet ending to the film, but when you root for the hero during the entire picture, darn it, you want him to make it in the end! What if Nicholson escaped from the insane asylum, and instead nasty old Nurse Ratched gets labotomized? How great would that be?
What about having “Bonnie and Clyde” (1967), take a detour from the historical facts, and just once more get away from the cops instead of having a hail of bullets end their lives in that old sedan? In my ending, the two take a side road, miss the police ambush, and live happily ever after — maybe even have kids and buy a nice little house outside Chicago with a little white picket fence.
Another alternate movie ending that would break with history would be to have “Patton” be able to keep his big stupid mouth shut in front of all the reporters and his superiors, make all the brass happy with his exemplary performance, and get assigned to lead the D-Day assault, going down in history as the greatest general of all time. Give em hell old blood and guts! And no way would he die in a stupid car crash in my version. He would make it to Berlin, personally choke Hitler to death, and die defending his battalion headquarters single-handedly with a pearl handled revolver blazing in each hand.
Yet another type of ending that drives moviegoers mad is the ambiguous, figure it out yourself ending. Wouldn’t it be satisfying just to understand the ending of “2001: A Space Odyssey?” It may be fun for movie purists, film school grad students, and sci-fi geeks to try to interpret that one, but in my special directors cut, a narrator comes on at the end and explains exactly what that damned big black monolith is, how it works, and why it does what it does. Nice...and neat.
Animals and other creatures aren’t excluded from the world of alternate endings. Why did “King Kong” have to die? It would have been extremely cool if instead, Godzilla showed up, the two smashed the living crap out of New York, and then he let Kong hitch-hike on his back while he swam him back to Kong Island, where the King had regular visits from his spicy blonde actress friend Ann Darrow and lived well into old age.
Alternative endings wouldn’t have to be complicated, either. There are some endings that could have been tweaked just a tiny bit to better please movie audiences. At the end of “Shane,” when Joey yells, “Shane, come back!” just once I’d like to see Alan Ladd turn his horse around, ride back, and have Joey’s mom patch him back up just like new. What was the deal with Shane and Joey’s mom anyway? Maybe in “alternative ending land,” Joey’s dad would catch a stray bullet during a gun fight and Shane would marry his mom. (That’s what the kid really wanted, anyway).
In alternative ending world, Dennis Hopper and Peter Fonda would have gotten away from those rednecks at the end of “Easy Rider,” too. In director Burgeson’s version, the two yokels pull up, point that shotgun at our heroes and — click — they forgot to load their gun. Wyatt and Billy ride off on their choppers while they flip off the rednecks, and discover America after all.
There are plenty of other perfect endings and “what ifs” out there in cinema-land — these are but a simple few. The wonderful thing about movies is that you can imagine any ending, sequel, prequel, or “viewer’s cut” you want, as long as you remember that each film is your own personal viewing experience — and no one can take your private interpretation of any given theatrical masterpiece away from you.
Cean Burgeson can be reached at: cburgeson@pioneergroup.net

Competition: it’s in our genes (MNA Jan. 07)

By CEAN BURGESON
Associate Editor

I recently watched the 2004 movie “Sideways,” which I thought was well written, because the way in which the two main characters, played by Paul Giamatti and Thomas Haden Church, spoke and acted — was just like real guys do.

Case in point: when they’re playing golf and the group behind them hits up on them, they do the typical guy thing. They turn around and hit their ball back at them.
Now, this may seem childish. It may even seem mean.
But it is what guys do.

And I have to admit. I’ve done it too.

More than once.

And I know that there are other guys out there who’ve done the same thing.
So what makes us so competitive? We all have day jobs. We aren’t professional athletes. We aren’t kids, or high school athletes, even. But, we still seem to play our sports as if we’re pros, and we’re getting paid for it.

I’ve also witnessed this zeal for adult sports in my hockey league. Grown men, who have families, kids, and go to church on Sundays – will still drop the gloves when they catch an elbow in a recreational league game from time to time. And they’ll use words on the ice that they wouldn’t want their mothers to hear.

I may have even once or twice had a potty-mouth when I’ve played. I come from a long line of highly competitive, amateur athletes (very amateur, as a matter of fact.)
Usually, in the hockey league, everyone is polite, and we all get along. But once in a while, that male competitiveness rears its ugly head, and scuffles ensue. A couple of times, we’ve even had to clean some blood off of the ice — but not very often.
We can’t help it. It’s in our genes somewhere, right next to the gene for waging war, not asking for directions, and drinking cheap beer by the keg.

Grown men cannot help playing every sport as if their livelihood, honor, and reputation depend on it. I’ve seen it in hockey, golf, softball, pool, bowling, videogames, horseshoes, fishing, hunting and lawn jarts, to name a few areas. I doubt there is any aspect of daily living that men haven’t competed at, and taken it seriously.

Sometimes way too seriously.

But isn’t that what makes sports fun? What good is playing if something isn’t at stake? Competition is healthy. It’s fun. And it’s why we play.

It’s also why we watch. We take pride in OUR team, OUR team’s record, and OUR chances for the playoffs, series, tournament, etc. We take this ownership as if we are actually playing right along with our heroes on the ice, courts, arenas and fields.

It’s this sense of belonging, of being part of the group, of competing — win or lose — that makes us human.

While I know that we take it too far sometimes, I think our sense of competitiveness is good for us – it makes life interesting, fun, exciting, and meaningful.
So if you’re the group behind me at Manistee National and you think I’m playing a bit slow, go ahead and hit up on me.

But be ready.

I’m gonna hit it right back at ya.

Cean Burgeson can be reached at cburgeson@pioneergroup.net

Burgeson child number three will soon join the fray (MNA Jan. 07)

By CEAN BURGESON
Associate Editor

As I sit on the precipice of becoming a father for the third time this April, I wonder what it will be like when all three children finally meet each other.
Our home is already like a combination between a zoo and an insane asylum with two children and the dog — getting the kids ready for school and daycare, drop-offs, pick-ups, hockey games, feeding time, bath time, bed time...
How will this new one affect the fine balance we have achieved in our household? Despite how mad it looks to outsiders, we’ve kind of gotten things down to a science. While it may not appear that way to the untrained eye, there is an order to things. But will this order be broken by the new youngling?
As we desperately attempt to potty-train my two-year old so we won’t have two children in diapers at the same time, my daughter fights us with every fiber of her being, determined not to comply. She also has a constant inner-dialogue going with herself, only it manifests itself as an outer dialogue — she continuously talks to us, herself, her baby-dolls, strangers at the mall, inanimate objects. And when she isn’t talking, she is screaming. This is one little lady who wants to be heard.
And while she loves her brother, and he loves her, they also both love to compete with each other. This usually builds to a crescendo of screaming, crying, and the separation of the two inmates into their own cells.
My seven-year-old son, while much easier to take care of as a rule, still refuses to ever stop moving, even to eat dinner. One foot is always on the floor, ready for him to sprint away at a moment’s notice. He runs from room to room of the house, or skoots around on his Heely shoes, rolling everywhere and spinning in the aisle at the grocery store.
When he isn’t running or rolling around, he plays hockey in every room of the house, with all manner of sticks, balls, pucks, and nets which are set up in various places. Keeping up with him is no small chore. And he wants to be an athlete when he grows up. So he plays hockey, baseball, soccer, does karate,... and I’m sure I’m leaving something out.
So how will our new baby boy, Owen, get the attention he needs from us? Will he be drowned out by his siblings and their constant bustling, chatter, and mayhem? Will he be a victim of third child-syndrome?
Maybe he’ll be the quiet one. The easy one. The one who is a dream to take care of.
Or — God forbid — he’ll become one of them. They’ll turn him.
The crazy Burgeson kids with their sibling fighting, yelling, screaming, tackling, and general high-level tom-foolery. The kids who scare telemarketers off of the phone when they call and hear my daughter shrieking at her brother to give back her toy, and him yelling back a her, to which the telemarketer usually says, “it sounds like you’d better go.”
I have to admit, at least it gets the telemarketers off the phone. And sometimes the grandparents.
Owen has to hear all of this going on outside of his comfortable little amniotic world.
What does he think of all of this?
I can feel him moving in the womb now, with the palm of my hand on my wife’s belly. He moves a lot.
I think it’s because he hears everything his crazy brother and sister (and parents, for that matter) are doing on the outside, and he’s getting ready. I picture him working out his little arms and legs like a boxer, readying himself to join the others, ready to defend himself.
You’ve got two more months, buddy. Get in shape.
Cean Burgeson can be reached at cburgeson@pioneergroup.net

America is in need of some ‘Independent’ thinking (MNA Jan. 07)

By CEAN BURGESON
Associate Editor

Labels. Americans love ‘em. They make things simpler.
But they divide us.
Let me explain.
A while back I sent in a submission to a popular handgun magazine of a column I wrote about being a pro-gun democrat. The editor returned the submission and said he wouldn’t print it. No big deal. Rejection is part of the business.
But his reasoning was that he didn’t agree with my point. My point was that pro-gun individuals aren’t always conservative. I am not a conservative but I am pro-gun. I’m living proof of my own point.
How can he refute the point, then?
Because some liberals, conservatives, democrats, and republicans insist on categorizing everything. If you are a democrat you have to be pro-choice. If you’re a republican, you have to be pro-life. Says who?
Why can’t we choose which philosophies are right for us based on the issues alone — without having to declare a party affiliation, or live with a label that doesn’t exactly fit us? The two party system is no longer working.
People need to pick their elected officials based on how they represent their constituency, regardless of the party label. And a lot of people do this — by voting for candidates from both parties when they go to the polls.
Other people find comfort in not having to think about who to vote for; they enjoy just pulling that lever with the D or R on it, and then getting on with their lives. We have become complacent. We have become lazy. We need a third party. Hell, we need a fourth and fifth party. In the very least, we need independent candidates who can give us an alternative to the malfunctioning two party system.
Yeah, we have the Libertarians and the Green Party. We also have the Socialists, Communists, Libertarians, and others. But they are more often than not considered the fringe, not the norm.
The elections of Reform Party candidate Jesse Ventura of Minnesota to the post of governor, and Green Party candidate state legislator Audie Bock of California, have highlighted the roles of third party and independent candidates in American politics in recent years.
Independents and alternative parties seem to be what the public is looking for; why else would Minnesota have elected a former pro-wrestler and actor as their governor? And how did Independent Ross Perot, who won almost 19 percent of the popular vote in the 1992 presidential campaign, get his foot in the door?
The American public was obviously crying out for change.
The number of independent voters has grown steadily in recent years. And politicians are having a difficult time appealing to the less predictable group, which includes everyone from ex-Libertarians to young people who think of political parties as irrelevant. These growing numbers suggest that maybe people would vote in greater numbers if they had more choices, with independent candidates or a third party which appealed to them.
We still have the power to vote independently, and split our ticket (except for in some primaries). But how many people exercise this option?
Although third party or independent candidates rarely win elections, they play an important role in democratic government. Third party or non-party candidates draw attention to issues that may be ignored by the majority parties. If the issue finds resonance with the voter, one or more of the major parties may adopt the issue into their own party platform. Also, a third party may be used by the voter to cast a protest vote on an important issue.
But protest votes are often wasted if they are in the minority. They may, however, have an effect on the outcome of the election. In the 2000 Presidential election, George W. Bush won the deciding state of Florida by fewer than 600 votes. Some Democrats accused Green Party candidate Ralph Nader of having cost them the election, and in discussion of strategies for the U.S. presidential election in 2004, both parties weighed the costs to the Democrats of another Nader presidential run. While Nader really didn’t have a chance, he had an impact.
This doesn’t mean the current parties need to go away. If people feel that they are in agreement with the Democratic or Republican campaign platforms, there isn’t anything wrong with that. I’m not advocating scrapping the existing parties. It just might be time for some thinking outside the traditional boxes.
People need to spend more time researching and really getting to know what their parties represent, what their candidates represent, and take the time to decide if that agrees with their own personal ideologies. If we start to find that neither party really represents us, it might be time to consider supporting the independents.
And we need to examine the labels. What is liberal? What is conservative? Can’t someone be a little of both? Why do we just believe what the commentators on television and on the radio, or the politicians tell us is one or the other?
Can’t we decide for ourselves?
Cean Burgeson can be reached at: cburgeson@pioneergroup.net

Can’t wait for Beckham to bend it for the U.S. (MNA Jan. 07)

By CEAN BURGESON
Associate Editor

Many people in the U.S. probably don’t know who David Beckham is. In Europe, everyone knows him. He is a talented athlete. He makes the women faint. He is married to a former Spice Girl. In Europe, he is a superstar.
I came to know him when I vacationed with my family in London and Norway this past summer. Our trip fell at a very opportune time, as we found ourselves smack dab in the middle of World Cup Soccer, or “football,” as the rest of the world calls it.
Soccer in the U.K. and Europe, is bigger than any sporting event that I have experienced here in the states. These people go absolutely NUTS for the sport. Men, women, the young, the old. Everyone has their favorite team, and an opinion about a certain player. Fathers and sons, husbands and wives, brothers, are divided in their football team allegiances.
My entire family, too, was swept up by the whole mania of World Cup Soccer, the event which happens only every four years. The 31 day, 64 game extravaganza in Germany last year was some of the most exciting sports action I have ever followed.
I’ll admit. I was surprised.
Soccer has always had a slim following in the U.S., cited with having too little action, and too few goals. I bought into this analysis, too.
But once I gave the sport a chance, and had the opportunity to learn from our English and Norweigan hosts, my eyes were opened. This is a sport which we just haven’t given a chance yet in this country.
Enter Beckham.
He is to the U.K., and to the soccer (football) world what any sports superstar in the U.S. is. He is a Michael Jordan, or a Tiger Woods. His charisma and play brings that much to the sport.
Captain of the English team during the cup, he currently plays for the Spanish team, Real Madrid, which he joined in 2003 after a hugely successful run with Manchester United, where he won six league titles, two FA Cups and the Champions League title. But Beckham did not win a single major trophy with the Spanish club, and his spell coincided with Madrid's worst slump since the early 1950s.
So now, because of recent changes that Major League Soccer, (the league here in the states) has made, he is coming to play for the L.A. Galaxy when his contract runs out in June.
This is huge.
"David Beckham will have a greater impact on soccer in America than any athlete has ever had on a sport globally," said Timothy J. Leiweke, president & CEO of Anschutz Entertainment Group, which owns the Galaxy. "David is truly the only individual that can build the bridge between soccer in America and the rest of the world."
While sitting in an English pub during a match. I saw the power of Football, and of Beckham. The packed room had an almost electric feeling. Anticipation filled the air. Fans were mesmerized by the many big screen TV’s, carrying, of course, World Cup Soccer.
They cheered, they screamed, they cursed the referees. The fans wore their favorite team’s jerseys. They spilled their beers and stomped their feet. They were fans, rabid ones — as dedicated and in love with the sport as any American football, baseball, basketball or hockey fan.
And I think this feeling can cross the pond. That’s why I’m excited that Britain’s golden boy is coming to America, and to Major League Soccer.
Because if anyone can energize the sport in the U.S., it is Beckham.
Cean Burgeson can be reached at: cburgeson@pioneergroup.com