lifestyle

By BEN GRABOW
Scripps Howard News Service
Wednesday, May 16, 2007

I'm crouched on a hillside, carefully eyeing the ravine below, waiting for any sign of movement. By the time I hear the crunch behind me, it's too late. Three shots crack in the humid air and three sharp stings spread into white pain on my lower back, spine and shoulder.

Luckily, this isn't foreign correspondence. This report is coming to you from a wooded lot only a few miles from my apartment. And for the most part, paintballs don't break the skin.

Paintball is an annual rite of spring, best saved for the end of the season when the trees are flush with protective leaves. As often as our schedules and wary girlfriends will allow, we are off in the woods bravely capturing flags and laying waste to the opposing team.

Or, at least, this is what it would be like if we could find 10 people willing to be shot with paintballs. As it is, paintball really only happens once every three or four years. This is basically the amount of time it takes for all of the participants to forget what it was like the last time.

Trying to recruit new players is never easy, either. To begin with, you can't ask just anyone to play. You have to be on a certain level of friendship with someone to invite him to spend an afternoon in your crosshairs.

Likewise, you're sure to get that most common new-to-paintball question -- "Does it hurt?" This question is answered easily enough with fibs ("You hardly notice, there's so much adrenaline involved") and outright lies ("It's more of a tickle").

Those new to the sport probably do not know that paintballs travel at a velocity of 300 feet per second. And they can find out the same way the rest of us did, by catching one in the ribs.

Unfortunately, no amount of lying will lend any appeal to running around in the late-spring heat wearing several layers of clothing. Friends without a wealth of camouflage clothing are also at a disadvantage. But once you manage to scrape a team together, you and your friends are in for a day of courageous fighting and a few moments of glorious heroism.

Or, if you're playing with us, you're in for a day of cowering behind a tree and fogging your facemask in fear as the two or three experienced players decimate the sweatshirt-and-jeans team. You might have realized this would get ugly had you noticed that these guys actually own their own paintball guns. The Realtree face paint was also a good indication.

You'd think, after a couple tours of duty, I'd have learned this lesson. But here I am, writhing on the ground, and not simply because I left my back open. No, I'll have the distinctive bruises for a week because I let them talk me into paintball once again.

But don't let me talk you out of playing. I mean, it's still a lot of fun. In fact, you should come out with us sometime.

Really, it only tickles.

By JEWEL KATS and DAVE SILVERBERG
Young People's Press
Wednesday, May 16, 2007

Dear Jewel,

My mom knows I keep a diary, and I'm afraid she will try and read it.

I keep it with me most of the time because I'm nervous about leaving it around where she will be tempted to pick it up. It's not that there is anything outrageous in it. It's just that it has a lot of my private thoughts I'm not ready to share.

I start high school in the fall and I bet she'd really like to know what's going on by reading my diary. I love my mom, but I don't want her reading what I write.

Sometimes she asks me what I put in it, so I know she's dying to know. How do I keep her from butting in?

-- COMPULSIVE WRITER

Dear C.W.,

We humans have been using the diary medium to understand ourselves and our surroundings for centuries. The fact that you've gotten into the habit of recording your thoughts is healthy indeed. This method of healing was introduced to psychotherapy in the 1960s by the late Ira Progoff. Opening yourself up -- even on paper -- is known to have tremendous psychological benefits.

Don't let fear of your mother reading your diary keep you from partaking in this character-building habit. However, I must point out that your apprehensions aren't riding on much fact, but rather unsubstantiated probabilities. Her asking what you're penning away doesn't necessarily mean she'll sift through your sock drawers looking for your beacon of recorded treasure. So quit pointing your finger.

Keep in mind that lugging your diary around everywhere doesn't guarantee discretion, but rather puts your entries at greater risk of being read by someone. Be mindful of this the next time you venture out with it.

Overall, it's in your best interest to speak to your mom about this. Openly explain how important it is for you to retain your privacy. Say why you enjoy recording your thoughts. Ask about her diary-writing experiences.

You may also want to use this opportunity to take your bonding one step further. If you're up to it, offer to include her in your diary-writing endeavors through a separate mother-daughter journal that you both can read and record in. Keep the diary in a mutually accessible area with plenty of working pens on hand. Write about whatever you're willing to share.

Make it your mission to connect and have fun along the way!

You can do this.

Love, Jewel

Dear Dave,

Summer is coming and my parents want to send me to camp again. I don't want to go.

I told them that, and they said as summer rolls around, I will want to. I know I won't. Camp was fun when I was a kid, but now I'd rather stay home with my friends. I'm 14 and should have some say in this, shouldn't I?

-- CAMPED OUT

Dear CAMPED OUT,

I'm with you on this one -- you've grown out of camp and you want to hang with your friends in the summer. Perfectly natural. Camp is been-there-done-that to you, so you want to experience other things. Now the tough part is convincing your parents you're better off staying in town.

Let them know that you'll be independent during the summer, and you won't need them for every little thing. This is a good chance to show your maturity.

But if they force you to go to camp, try to have fun and make the best of it. If you're miserable in a place that promotes fun and activities, you'll only ruin a beautiful summer. Instead, promise yourself that you'll try extra hard to convince your parents of your decision to stay in town next summer.

Good luck!

(Got a hot question for our cool columnists? E-mail Jewel or Dave at writeus(at)ypp.net or check them out on-line at http://www.ypp.net.)

By MIKE HARDEN
Scripps Howard News Service
Tuesday, May 15, 2007

Parked by the fringe of Section 99 at Green Lawn Cemetery in Columbus, Ohio, I am having a little talk with Momma.

The passing of decades has changed the nature of our conversations in some ways, though in others not in the least.

The 6-year-old boy afraid to go to sleep because of the hook-armed murderer hiding under the bed is not much different from the 60-year-old man fretting over the awaited results of medical tests for a worrisome symptom that proves to be nothing.

Both man and boy need something from Mom.

In the first months following my mother's death in the spring of 2003, our one-sided chats at Green Lawn were awkward affairs. I carried the baggage of unfinished business and unspoken love to a glistening headstone of cinnamon-hued granite and simply stared at the etched symbols and words -- the first few notes and lyrics of her favorite hymn.

It helps me that I see her these days in the eyes and words of women born in an era that served them the Great Depression for breakfast and World War II for lunch.

In the midst of the latter, my mother did assembly-line piecework at D.L. Auld, a Columbus factory where she turned out Purple Hearts that were ultimately issued, in lieu of missing limbs, to soldiers bound for home or, in lieu of missing sons, to grief-wracked mothers.

Momma, like many mothers of first-cusp baby boomers, was pinched out of the work force when the war ended and women were pink-slipped from jobs they had performed as well as or better than the men for whom they were pinch-hitting.

My mother had three children in three years and six under the age of 10 at one point.

My father forbade her to work outside the house even though portions of his meager paycheck were often lost to partying and poker with the boys.

In time, she got fed up with seeing her babies in the castoff clothes of well-meaning kin and strangers. She was tired of dealing with the recurrent quandary of having way too much month at the end of the money.

So, she started a bakery in her kitchen and, when the old man chafed at her bringing home the bacon because he spent his on beer, she more or less told him that he could go straight to hell. She had kids to raise.

Her bakery delivery force was her six children. She taught us how to make change and always say, "Thank you, ma'am." Then she lined us up at the backdoor and filled our arms with yet-warm and fragrant loaves of bread, pies, cakes and cinnamon rolls.

My mother would throw back her head and let loose a hyena laugh whenever "Leave It to Beaver" came on the tube. Her irony-tinged mirth was a reaction to the show's spectacularly ridiculous characterization of American motherhood: Barbara Billingsley doing her dusting while wearing a crisp cocktail dress, pearls and high heels.

To a certain kind of woman, June Cleaver was a flat-out insult. She never had to contend with a hung over Ward layin' sorry after spending the paycheck on a three-day bender.

Women of my mother's vintage fought and won battles for workplace equality while men were trying to win the war, only to see those victories nullified. Then, in middle age, they saw younger women carry the fight to the barricades and begin to secure workplace justice and equity.

My mother labored as a domestic while yet in middle school. She mothered her younger siblings and then six of her own. After her half-dozen were grown, she baby-sat strangers' children for years to help pay the bills. When her mind started to go, she hallucinated about babies in trees, sobbing that no one was feeding them.

I read the hymn lyrics on her headstone -- "Precious memories, unseen angels" -- and I try to talk to her. But, these days, all I catch is the wind sighing in the maple trees holding all those babies that I am finally able to see with heartbreaking clarity.

By CARLEY RONEY
Scripps Howard News Service
Tuesday, May 15, 2007

Q: We're trying to cut down our guest list. I have a group of relatives who I almost never talk to (in fact, we haven't been in touch for over a year). Do we have to invite them just because they're family?

A: This is a tough one -- while it's easy to draw the haven't-talked-to-in-a-year line with friends or acquaintances, it's definitely not as simple when it comes to relatives. The best solution is to decide on a cutoff point and stick with it -- for example, aunts, uncles and first cousins only. It's tough but fair.

Another thing to consider: You say you're distant from them, but does your mom or dad talk to these folks on a regular basis? Though you might consider them safe to cut, you might risk upsetting your parents. If it's just too troublesome to cut your relatives from the guest list, consider trimming another group, say, co-workers or your single friends' dates.

(Carley Roney, co-founder and editor in chief of The Knot, the nation's leading wedding resource, advises millions of brides on modern wedding etiquette at www.theknot.com.)

By SHARON RANDALL
Scripps Howard News Service
Tuesday, May 15, 2007

The best compliment for a storyteller is to be told a story in return, because every good story conjures up another.

I'm not sure who said that. I suspect it was Donald Davis, a friend and fellow Tar Heel, who is one of the finest 'tellers I've heard, and I've heard a few.

Even if he didn't say it, I bet he would have, if he'd thought of it, so let's give him credit.

Anyhow. Regardless of where it came from, it's an interesting observation on human nature and our need for telling stories and hearing them told.

My earliest memories recorded the hours I spent as a child listening to the voices of people I loved as they recalled memories of their own.

My mother, for instance, would pause while mixing up a batch of biscuits to describe in detail how she once "sashayed" across a stage to accept an award for "best actress" in the eighth grade school play.

My dad would hold me spellbound on his knee and recall his passage as a young soldier through the locks of the Panama Canal en route to Europe and World War II.

My grandparents had more stories than their Chihuahua had fleas _ tall tales from when they were children running barefoot in the mountains with wolves at the door and snakes underfoot and lots of feuding and stabbings and shootings.

I loved those stories. But what I loved most, and would remember best even now, was the sound of their voices; the gesturing of their hands; the posturing of their bodies; and the light that lit up their eyes.

Those were the things that told me not just what happened, but how they felt about it. It allowed me to get to know them a little better, and at the same time, to get to know myself.

That, of course, is the main reason why we tell stories: We want to know and to be known.

It's hard to tell a good story in writing. You have to rely on the reader to fill in all the details from facial expressions, voice tones and body language. But sometimes if you're lucky, you find a way to put the light in your eyes down on paper.

It doesn't happen often, but when it does, it's about the best feeling a writer can hope to get.

My favorite response from a reader usually begins with "OK, I read your story, now let me tell you mine."

When I write stories about, say, my grandmother, I hear from readers who want to tell me their grandma stories, too.

When I write about loss, I hear from people who've lost someone they loved and feel a need to put their grief in words.

When I write about moving to some place of all places, I hear from folks who are facing far bigger changes, and want me to know that I am not alone.

When I write about falling into a fish pond, not once but twice in the same day, I hear from people who swear they've done it three times or more.

I like those people a lot.

Every week, I get a letter from a reader in Alabama, who writes to tell me about her life. We've never met, but I've learned a lot from her letters _ both about her and myself.

We are all more alike than we are different in the everyday matters of the heart. Stories help us to see that.

If you have a friend who is grieving _ or feeling lonely, or ill, or just plain old _ ask her to tell you her story, whatever that story may be.

Listen closely. Ask questions. Take the time to hear her out. When she's finished, let her see the light in your eyes. Then tell her a story of your own, the one you've been longing to tell.

Every good story conjures up another. And you never know what you might learn.

(Sharon Randall can be contacted at P.O. Box 777394, Henderson NV 89077, or at randallbay(at)earthlink.net)

By DAN VIERRIA
Sacramento Bee
Thursday, May 10, 2007

Think it might be a major challenge to persuade your online kids to sample an on-trail adventure? Author Tim Hauserman makes it sound easy (and fun) in "Monsters in the Woods" (University of Nevada Press, $15.95, 137 pages). The monsters, of course, are the kids.

With humor, Hauserman lays out strategies and advice for parents to help motivate kids to get out into the wild. The reward is a great time with Dad, so he says.

"To me, backpacking with my children is by far the best time I spend with them," Hauserman writes.

He had no problem persuading his two daughters, although he learned what works best. Instead of taking both on a trip, he prefers bringing one and her friend. He also invites the friend's father.

What do I pack? Can I take the dog? Is an infant too young to take backpacking? All these are addressed in this comprehensive how-to of family adventures.

Hauserman, who lives in Northern California, also wrote "The Tahoe Rim Trail: A Complete Guide for Hikers, Mountain Bikers, and Equestrians" (Wilderness Press, $15.95, 160 pages). He knows his backpacking trails and has great hopes for the younger, high-tech generation.

During a field trip to Mono Lake with one daughter, an American Indian medicine man related to the school group how he had been taught to appreciate nature as a child and how he learned to be "part of the river" while fishing.

"Will our children ever learn that level of appreciation for nature?" Hauserman writes. "Probably not, but if we can help them learn to love nature and understand it, we will be doing them and the planet a great service."

By Dr. YVONNE FOURNIER
Scripps Howard News Service
Thursday, May 10, 2007

DEAR DR. FOURNIER: My son knows we expect him to do his homework in the afternoon so that we do not have late nights. This has worked, but now he wants to go out and play after school. As the days have gotten longer, his attention span has gotten shorter. This happened last year, and we ended up fighting.

This year he will have final exams for the first time and I do not want to be fighting. We have planned many activities for him this summer, so he knows he is going to have fun. He just needs to work a little harder until school is out.

How can I get this across to him without yelling?

THE ASSESSMENT: At this time every year, the irresistible force -- the expectation of summer fun -- meets the immovable object -- final exams -- and the result is that "something's gotta give." What we often give up is what we desire most -- a calm family atmosphere.

Just when school is most demanding, the days grow longer, giving children more daylight for fun. Add to that the desire to participate in outdoor activities and the special springtime events, and preparing for final exams can become the last thing on a child's mind.

Although parents want their children to anticipate the fun of vacation, children often cannot stop with mere anticipation -- they often want it now, and summer hysteria sets in.

WHAT TO DO: Sit with your child and determine a daily routine that will keep the end of the school year as calm as possible, without summer hysteria. Use the terms below during summer planning so your child can distinguish between different responsibilities, tasks, thoughts and emotions. Your routine should be based on the completion of tasks and on the emotions that take children away from doing those tasks -- not on hours.

When discussing the new routine, use the following terms to describe what your son must schedule:

-- Responsibility time. This can be broken into two categories. The first is homework and study time, which your son can accomplish as usual after school or in the early evening. The second category is final-exam preparation, which your child must do every day until the exams. Parents must monitor this preparation time every day; otherwise, it is easy for the child to procrastinate, which creates even more stress. Ask your child to periodically show you what notes he has prepared for the exam or what study guides he has received.

-- Fun time. This time must be scheduled and monitored daily; otherwise, it can tend to become longer and longer.

-- Anticipation time. This is the time to dream about summer, but it should occur only periodically -- perhaps once or twice a week.

After setting an end-of-the-school-year routine, make a summer calendar and put it where your child can see it. Write in activities you know about so your child can visualize them. Remember to look at the calendar realistically. Although we try to do it all during the summer, that unrealistic view often turns pleasure into stress. Ask yourself -- not your child -- if the tension and stress will be worth it. Many summers bring about tears because no one knew how to respect the need to be still.

As parents, we must teach our children how to cope with the emotions of anticipation and not throw anticipation at them to help them cope with today.

(Write Dr. Yvonne Fournier, Fournier Learning Strategies Inc., 5900 Poplar, Memphis, Tenn. 38119. E-mail YF7thsense(at)aol.com.)

By BARTON GOLDSMITH
Scripps Howard News Service
Thursday, May 10, 2007

My mom had some major attitude about Mother's Day. She hated the long waits and overpriced preset menus that many restaurants do for brunch, she thought that cut flowers were a waste of money, and she always asked us not to buy her anything because she didn't want to be possessed by her possessions. She preferred that the family just hang out and spend the day together.

If we showed our love and respect for her only one day out of the year, she used to say, she would not have raised us right. As much as I enjoy the convenience of a holiday telling me when, where, and what I need to do, I see her point.

I do realize that not everyone got good mothering, but in general, I think that many mothers are greatly underappreciated. It can be a thankless job. Mother's Day isn't about the celebration, it's about remembering and sharing your love. This is the woman who not only gave birth to you (which at the very least is an arduous process) but who also changed your poopy diapers, nursed you when you were sick, and made sure your socks matched.

This holiday is a great opportunity to teach little kids how to verbalize their feelings of love and also let them freely express it in their own ways. The older ones may also have to be coached on how to show their gratitude for being born and raised. Remind them that it's not so hard to do. Just volunteering to spend Sunday with Mom rather than with friends may be enough.

I also suggest that instead of making the usual plans this year, ask your mother what it is she would really like for this Mother's Day. It's possible that she will want the same things as usual, but giving her the opportunity to pick and choose is another way of showing that you love her.

Holiday traditions may need to change to take into account how our lives transition and mature. The type of celebrations that worked for Mom a decade or so ago may not be what floats her boat today. Things change when you go from being a daughter celebrating with your mom to becoming a mother and then a grandmother. You may choose to celebrate as an extended group or with just your nuclear family. The way you do the day isn't as important as the reason that we celebrate it. The goal is to show love to the women in our lives who have helped us become who we are today.

Perhaps the most valuable thing you can give your mother is the gift of time. Making sure that you call or visit on a regular basis is a good start. Add to it some basic listening skills and the ability to change a light bulb, and you get the idea. For most moms, just being with the children they love is the best gift. The real truth is that it's our presence -- not our presents -- that makes their day.

(Barton Goldsmith, Ph.D., is the author of "Emotional Fitness for Couples." Contact him at Barton(at)BartonGoldsmith.com. For more stories visit scrippsnews.com)

By STEVE BREWER
Scripps Howard News Service
Thursday, May 10, 2007

If you pay much attention to health news, then you know that most everything is bad for us and we'll all soon die.

Scientists tell us our air, food, water, clothes and homes are full of germs, viruses, bacteria, pollen, pollution, radiation, industrial toxins, hazardous chemicals, deadly diseases, dust mites, insect parts, cholesterol and cooties.

Selfless medical researchers are working around the clock to provide us with fresh scares. Every day, it seems, there's a new study about some health risk we'd never even considered before. Every week brings word of some newly imported tropical disease. It's a great time to be a hypochondriac.

Most of us read health news, process the information, then go on about our lives exactly as before. Why? Because we know there'll be another study along soon that will cancel out the one in the news.

It works like this: One group of researchers will find, say, that coffee causes human spleens to explode. Another group (funded by coffee companies) will quickly release a study that shows that not only does coffee not cause exploding spleens, but it builds strong bones, makes you taller and was the original fluid at the Fountain of Youth. Later, a third study will find that neither of the above was correct. These impartial scientists will say coffee is OK, as long as you practice moderation, exercise and keep an eye on your overall spleen health. Then another lab will find a link between coffee and some other ailment, and we're off and running again.

There's no way to follow that cycle and maintain your sanity. You'd end up changing all your health and eating habits every few weeks. Better to wait it out, keep a watchful eye, wait for the pendulum to swing the other way.

(I, personally, am waiting for the day they announce that tofu causes cancer. I'm one carnivore with a mean streak.)

If you wait long enough, the tide turns against most everything, even medicines. Did you see the recent stories about Ambien and Lunesta? Those two prescription sleep aids, the most heavily advertised drugs in America, were found to cause bizarre behavior in some people. The Food and Drug Administration announced that users walked in their sleep, prepared and ate food in their sleep, even went "sleep-driving." None had any memory of the activities the next morning.

The entire country has been consumed in recent years by obesity and its dire effects on the national health. What if it turned out that we're getting fat because we're up every night, sleep-eating?

Another recent study found that obese men are 42 percent less likely to commit suicide than thin men. Scientists analyzed statistics from 45,000 men and found that suicide rates fell as body-mass indexes rose. The researchers theorized that heavier men might have higher levels of mood-regulating brain chemicals.

So, the findings would seem to indicate, obesity will kill you slowly, but it might keep you from killing yourself. Next week, no doubt, scientists will find that obesity causes exploding spleens.

In the meantime, I'm one fat boy who will revel in some good news for a change, while also protecting myself against suicide. I'm going to lay out a big spread of yummy, calorie-rich food, take an Ambien or a Lunesta, and engage in some serious sleep-eating. Maybe go for a nice drive afterward, burping and snoozing my way across the countryside.

What could go wrong? I'm sure some health researchers are doing a government-funded study to find out.

(Redding, Calif., author Steve Brewer's latest book is called "Monkey Man." Contact him at ABQBrewer(at)aol.com.)

By THELMA DOMENICI
Scripps Howard News Service
Thursday, May 10, 2007

Dear Thelma: What is the proper way to thank a host for being so hospitable in letting you stay in their home for a few days? I want to do something really nice, and really show my gratitude.

Answer: A sincere note thanking them for their hospitality and a thoughtful gift are the best way to show your gratitude at the end of your stay, along with an invitation to a stay at your home, if that's possible.

It's great to think ahead in a situation like this. Once you are in the home and spending time with your hosts, you may not have the opportunity to shop for a gift. If you can, purchase the gift and wrappings before you leave home, and take with you the card and envelope you'll need to write the note at the end of the stay.

Since they've opened their home to you, I assume you know them fairly well. When considering a gift, think about their hobbies or things they enjoy. Do you know they enjoy wine? Add a bottle to their collection. Are they planning a trip? A book on their destination would be appreciated. Do they like to attend live performances? They might enjoy tickets to an event.

Even if you don't feel you know their personalities that well, you can come up with a thoughtful way to express your appreciation with a household item they can use, gift certificates or a basket of goodies.

If you aren't able to purchase a gift before or during your stay, have a flower arrangement or a potted plant delivered to them the next day.

Aside from a gift and note to express your gratitude, being a well-mannered guest is the best thing to do to show your thanks. Contact your hosts two weeks before your stay and remind them of your arrival and departure dates. A three- to four-day visit is the most you should spend under typical circumstances.

Throughout your stay, pick up after yourself. Make your bed and keep your living space clean. Bring your own toiletries rather than relying on your host for such.

Finally, help with the household chores where appropriate. Offer to make dinner for your hosts or treat them to a nice restaurant. Offering to pay for the groceries is another courteous option. Paying attention to these details will help ensure many happy returns.

When counting on the kindness of others, good manners never go out of style.

(Have a question about etiquette? Ask it at www.askthelma.com.)