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Meta
SHORT STORY: The Lottery Ticket
In the little South Carolina town of Kudzu, the local weekly newspaper’s headline screamed the big news in 144-point type: WINNING LOTTERY TICKET SOLD IN KUDZU. One Kudzu resident was now $400 million richer (over 30 years) or $233 million if he or she decided to take the lump sum. But just who was the winner was the mystery. Because South Carolina is one of the few states that allows lottery winners to rename anonymous, the residents of Kudzu looked around and wondered. And wondered. And wondered some more. Who won it? Who held the winning ticket?
Oh, the ladies at the Dye-Hard Beauty and Tanning Emporium had their theories. So did the men at Bob’s Butcher and Barber Shop. So did the three policemen and four men at the volunteer fire department. Even kids at the Kudzu Elementary School (Go Little Vines!) had their favorites. Soon there was a betting pool that would’ve made Las Vegas jealous. Several names rose to the top. Finally, after a week of intense gossip and speculation, it boiled down to three names:
Johnny Issac — Age 20, high school drop out and cashier at the Kwik and Sip Food Mart. Johnny had bought at brand new Camaro SS, raising many eyebrows.
Katie Simmons — the 30-year-old old librarian at the Kudzu Public Library. Within the past week, Katie had started dressing better and wearing makeup.
Frank Fredricks — the 56-year old deputy Fire Chief. He had bought a brand new Chevrolet Silverado pickup truck and put his house up for sale.
All three would see their lives change radically in the next few days. All three would be under intense scrutiny by the ladies of the Kudzu Garden and Bunko Club.
Katie Simmons noticed that the cashier at the Piggly Wiggly was eyeing her groceries a little closer than normal.
“I see you’re buyin’ name-brand food these days there Katie. And steak? You’re living high on the hog for a librarian.” Madge the cashier double checked every item four more times. Katie grabbed her bags and ran to the car.
Frank Fredricks noticed two teenage boys going through his trash. “Git!” he screamed as the boys scattered. He went out to the curb and noticed his papers scattered on the ground.
Johnny Issac kept getting pulled over by the Kudzu PD. “Now what is it officer?” Johnny said with a frustrated tone.
“You had better watch you mouth, boy,” the officer said as he checked around in Johnny’s back seat. Nothing. Even the great Kudzu detective could find no clues.
Three days after the big announcement, the mystery was no closer to being solved.
Then, on the fourth day, a check arrived at Kudzu High School (Go Big Vines!). An unsigned type-written note said plainly, “Please accept this cashier’s check for $4 million dollars to set up a scholarship fund for the graduates of Kudzu High.”
The teachers and principal were convinced it was from Katie Simmons. Obviously a librarian would care about education. The local president of Kudzu Saving and Loan (where your savings grow like kudzu) checked the banks records. But whoever sent the check had used another bank. Katie denied it vehemently.
The mystery continued.
On the fifth day, the Kudzu Fire Department received a brand-new $1 million fire truck.
The firefighters looked at Frank Fredricks with intense suspicion. “It’s you, ain’t it Frank,” the chief inquired.
Frank just shook his head.
The mystery deepened.
On the sixth day, a sign out from of the Kwik and Sip Food Mart read, “FREE GAS FOR AS LONG AS SUPPLIES LAST.” Some kind benefactor had agreed to cover the town’s gasoline bill.
The crowd outside of the station stared at the young man in his new Camaro.
“It’s not me, I promise,” he meekly said as the crowd tightened around him.
Nearly a week into the “GREAT LOTTERY MYSTERY” (as the headline read in the Kudzu Daily Times), the townspeople were no closer to finding out who the winner was.
And that’s exactly how the winner wanted it to be.
From her desk at the Mayor’s office, Wanda Gables peeked out the window and smiled as she watched the crowd outside of the Kwik and Sip fight for free gas. Wanda, who was 56 and widowed, liked her privacy. And now that she was a multimillionaire, she had decided to drive Kudzu crazy with speculation. She smiled and chuckled as she looked at the ad for the fine house in Charleston. The diversions had worked. Now it was time to for her to leave Kudzu under the cover of confusion.
The great Kudzu Lottery Mystery never was solved. And that was just fine with Wanda Gables.
Fit2Fat2Fit Blog: Day 14
Sometimes life requires action not words. And today’s workout was like that. It was hard. Very hard. And many of you (that I saw) just did the work. You didn’t complain. You just busted your butt.
I’m proud to workout with you.
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Fit2Fat2Fit Blog: Day 13
Fall has arrived and with it, cooler temperatures. Lying on the dew-covered fake grass was almost a shock this morning. But thankfully Clark found a way to warm us up. Speaking of warm-ups, I now run 1/2 mile before we even start to loosen up my legs. As it gets cooler, my legs are getting tighter. Stretching is becoming more of a priority. The pre-workout run is actually a zen-like experience where I get to focus on getting my mind ready for the next hour.
Clark’s core exercises were tough this morning. But then again, rain is wet and the sun comes up in the East. You kind of expect it. I screwed one of them up to the point where I know he was frustrated with me. Honestly, I was trying to make the exercise harder than it was — I guess I don’t expect anything to be easy with Clark. Also, I’m as dumb as a sack of hammers at 5 a.m. That said, my core is as strong as it has ever been. I can tell by looking at it, but my back has noticed it, too. Back pain after long trips has gone the way of the passenger pigeon (which are extinct if you didn’t know.)
Morgan had a nice tricep burnout lined up for us. I got through it pretty well — once again, I can see my progress. Half burpees, dips on a chair, bear crawls, plank raises, and jumping jacks for a bit of a rest.
The weight room was good. Mike pushed me again. He’s very strong and usually chooses weight I’d probably avoid. Probably my best exercise today was incline bench press.
We then went and ran the W-drill and with a new twist: With 25-lb. bags. I told my friend Beth (who is one of the best athletes out there), “We used to weigh this much.” I’ve lost 50 lbs. She has lost over 100. It’s little psychological tricks like that that help you through the tough times.
We then finished out with an Indian run. I could have run all day — which was good because we knocked out a mile and then had to run two 100-yard sprints to finish today out.
It was a good workout today. Partly because of the cooler weather. But honestly, I heard a speech from a Marine who served in the South Pacific. His name was (he has passed away) Eugene Sledge and wrote an amazing book about his combat experiences. On the island of Peleliu, he was on the island for several weeks. It was grueling duty, with 24-a-day combat and temperatures over 115 degrees. He said he once heard a football player talking about “how tired he was.” He said, “I then cried a room full of tears.”
It’s about perspective.
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The License Plate
I carefully unscrewed the old license plate, took it off my car and held it in my hand. It was dirty but still proud. On it was the Biloxi lighthouse. The very lighthouse that was the symbol of the aftermath and recovery from the hellstorm known as Katrina. It was one of the few surviving structures along the Mississippi Gulf Coast.
Then I looked at the new plate — Mississippi: Birthplace of America’s Music. I like it. It looks good on my car. But it’s just not the same.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m VERY proud of Mississippi’s creative culture. Like gold in a mine, it is one of our most precious resources. And I am relieved that it is not only being celebrated, but recognized for the economic asset that it is. Our artists, writers and musicians make this state special. I’m thankful my new license plate promotes them and the valuable work they bring to table. It’s about darn time.
But the lighthouse plate was special to me. I remember how proud I was when I put it on my car. It symbolized what we, as a state, are capable of. Memories of how we came together during that dark time were triggered every time I looked at it. How when things got bad, we got good.
Then I saw the golden thread that tied the two plates together. We are good when we give to others. We succeed when we share our blessings and talents. That’s our treasure. That’s what makes Mississippi special.
I tightened the screws on the new plate, stepped back and carefully wiped the dirt off the old one. I’ll save it in a box where I keep a few Katrina mementos. Then I looked back at my shiny new (and very expensive) car tag and realized this basic truth: It’s not what’s on the plate that matters. It is what it represents.
Fit2Fat2Fit Blog: Day 12
Leg cramps suck. The worst case of them I’ve ever had was from mile 20 of the Marine Corps Marathon to the finish line. I hit the ground. It’s pain I won’t soon forget.
My right calf started to cramp when we were doing 100 calf raises with Clark. But it didn’t. Of all the crazy-ass things we did today, I’m most proud of that. No cramp = Big victory.
Beth, Liz and I handled the tire in Morgan’s station. How I didn’t leave my back on the turf is a miracle. But we survived. One of the times, we pushed/pulled the tire — like the mother of all boards. Then we noticed other groups carrying it. So we carried it the other. That went quicker.
I do weird stuff at 5 in the morning. I really do. In fact, I don’t even bother to tell my wife what we do. There is no use trying to explain it unless you are there.
The weight room was leg-centric today. Mike pushed me and I even jumped on a box without busting my butt (and shins). I’m not famous for my vertical leap. I am gravity-challenged.
I can do a good inchworm. My crab walks still are crappy. My frog leaps are decent. Donkey kicks make me sore. Today was a solid leg workout.
But I’m don’t have leg cramps.
You take your victories where you can get them
This week was one of my favorite weeks at PLS yet.
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Fit2Fat2Fit Blog: Day 11
Let me hit you with a headline:
Medicaid seeks budget increase of $143M
Let me repeat it:
Medicaid seeks budget increase of $143M
One more time to let it sink in:
Medicaid seeks budget increase of $143M
That’s $143 million dollars that could go to education. Or about anything else in the state budget.
But it’s not.
Medical expenses are soaring. You know that. You’ve been to the doctor. You’ve watched your insurance cost more and cover less. It’s easy to hate Obamacare, but it’s equally easy to realize the system is broken — and breaking further.
I worked out for an hour this morning. I ran a 1/2 mile to warm up. I did planks, pushups and leg lifts. I did drills, lifted weights. I got my heart rate soaring. I ran up and down stadium stairs. I came home and skipped banana-nut bread and ate oatmeal.
I took charge of my health.
I am 45-years old and don’t take any medication. My blood pressure is below normal and my cholesterol hovers under 150. My body fat is down and my mind is clear (for the most part.)
Let me throw this at you one more time:
Medicaid seeks budget increase of $143M
We have GOT to start taking control of our own health. I’ve had cancer — I know there are times when you need a doctor. But I’m going to do everything I can to make sure I do my part to keep medical costs down.
Something has to give. And it starts with me.
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It can happen here because it has
It can happen here. Or there. Or anywhere.
If a shooter can slaughter children in an elementary school, on a Navy base or in the middle of an Amish school, it can happen where you are. Or where I am.
In fact, it has happened here. At least near here.
It happened at Pearl High School. It happened two blocks away from where I am sitting at the Jackson Fire Department headquarters.
Luke Woodham, the Pearl shooter, is in prison. Kenneth Tornes, who killed his estranged wife and four supervisors, died in prison in 2000.
It seems like now, we hear the same general story every time there is a shooting: It’s a toxic mix of mental illness, violent video games and access to high-capacity weapons. We are sticking our head in the sand if we only focus on one component. Americans safely own weapons. Americans play video games every day. But when the mental illness is added into the mix, the ingredients become a deadly soup. We have to, as Americans, take a good look at ourselves in the mirror. We need to address mental illness. And we need to get off our political soap boxes to look for solutions.
I won’t hold my breath.
Until then, we’ll look around and wonder, “What if it happened here?” Because sadly it can. Because sadly it has.
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Fit2Fat2Fit Blog: Day 10
I started with a 1/2 mile warm-up run. Clark and Paul recommend one lap around the track to loosen up, but I do two. Mainly because the first lap hurts and I feel better by the second. That way I’m ready to go when we stretch.
We started with Clark. Clark, who has the bionic stomach, had us do lots of core work. He claimed that I said, in this blog, that his station was easy. Um, no. What I said was, his station is easier now than it was when I was a fat sack of poo who weighed 250 pounds. Clark’s station is never easy. Trust me. But I enjoy it now. I feel like I get a great core workout. And today was one of them.
Morgan, the dominatrix, had us do a mini-endurance run. That includes three 100-yard passes. The first has three ladder drills. The second had high-knees, inch-worms (not bear crawls) and hopscotch. The third had shuffling in and out of hurdles, bear crawls and snake drill. We started over when we finished and kept going.
Then we did our rotation in the weight room. Today was bicep day. I will say I was able to straighten out my arms better this time and I got a solid workout. No back problems — which is a bonus. I feel myself getting stronger.
The last station, which was two combined for 18 minutes was called 21-100. Here’s how it works: You sprint to the five-yard line, do one burpee, then back to the goal line. Then you go to the 10 and do two burpees and back to the goal line. After that, it’s off to the 15 and you do three burpees — then back to the goal line. Then you go to the 20 and do four burpees. You get the drill right? Ever five yards, you add a burpee. I made it to 14 burpees, but didn’t start them because time was called. So I only did 91 burpees and ran a lot of yards.
This morning was tiring but rewarding. In fact, I’d have to say today was one of my favorite workouts in a long, long time. I was a real challenge and I enjoyed it but I’ll admit, I was so tired after the 21-100 that I was dumb as the fake grass on the football field. I had to break everyone down and I forgot how to count to three.
Thank God I made it home alive.
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