I don’t know about y’all (sorry about that; I guess I still haven’t been able to shake off all the Wyoming), but July 5 cannot get here fast enough. In just a few days, those who walk into any restaurant, workplace or bar will be able to breathe a little easier, thanks to the new Smoke-Free Wisconsin Act that goes into effect Monday. Personally, I couldn’t be more thrilled.
Granted, I believe every individual has the right to do with their body what they will, whether that be covering it with tattoos, filling it with holes or ingesting substances like tar and nicotine. It’s a personal freedom to be able to make those kinds of decisions. But while the choice to smoke is up to the smoker, the state has every right to put a statute of limitations on it, especially when cigarette smoke is proven to be hazardous, not only to the smoker, but also to bystanders who inhale the smoke.
With so many other things in this world that cause cancer and put an end to the lives of many who are far too young to die, I can’t help but wonder why people are increasing their risk of contracting cancer on a voluntary basis. I, for one, went through a horrendous ordeal watching my grandfather slowly succumb to emphysema, which was the product of all his years as a chain smoker.
Believe me, I don’t have anything against people who smoke; they’re not bad people. Quite a few of my friends picked up the habit while we were in high school and, to this day, I still give them grief about it. As much as I would love them to just wake up tomorrow and quit, I realize that it’s easier said than done.
While I was at Country Fest over the weekend, I had numerous people ask me if I had a lighter. My comeback was usually, “No, I don’t smoke. It’s a disgusting habit.” About 95 percent of the time, the smoker was in complete agreement with me, acknowledging that they have either tried to quit at least once in the past or intend to do so when the smoking ban goes into effect. It’s just a very difficult habit to break and it really sucks for those who really want to quit, but simply can’t.
I also understand that some bar and tavern owners may be perplexed by the new smoke-free ordinance, but I really don’t think they should be overly concerned that their establishments will be negatively impacted. Contrary to popular belief, going smoke free will not ruin a business. If anything, the opposite happens.
When I waited tables at a brew pub back in Pinedale, Wyo., the business went through an ownership change. The pub, in turn, went from a smoking to a non-smoking establishment. In the beginning, there were quite a few regulars who didn’t particularly like the change, but eventually grew to accept it. In fact, business actually picked up because people who didn’t like the smoking aspect before started to frequent the place once it became a non-smoking establishment. Overall, I think there were maybe one or two people who refused to come back and chose to go elsewhere because of the no smoking policy.
Regardless, when you have an entire state making the switch, I have a hard time believing that all the people who smoke are going to boycott bars and taverns because they’re not allowed to light up. I mean, after all, this is Wisconsin ... we’re pretty much known for three things: the Green Bay Packers, exceptional cheese and our love of beer. Sure, it’s going to take a bit of time to get used to the idea, but, once that happens, I have a feeling it will lead to good things ... like a decrease in cigarette sales. For all those who have been toying with the idea of quitting, now is the perfect time to do it.
Jennie Oemig,
Editor
Arcadia News-Leader
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Let Us Be Armed
As I've said in the past, I'm not a fan of guns. I don't hunt and I'm fairly certain that I'd be the type of person who would forget to put the safety on and end up shooting myself in the foot. I don't own a gun ... for my own protection. But seeing as how the Second Amendment grants every American citizen the right to keep and bear arms, it concerns me that Wisconsin has not legalized concealed carry of firearms. But what concerns me more is that concealed carry needs to be legalized in the first place. Why should individual states get to define how these constitutional amendments are applied?
First of all, if someone wants to own a gun – for protection, recreation or what have you – they have every right to do so. As of now, Wisconsin legally allows open carry, which requires citizens to keep the firearm in plain sight, but concealed carry is, for some reason, illegal. Given that we have the right to keep and bear arms, the manner in which each individual chooses to express that right should be up to the individual.
And while I'm aware that there are people out there naive enough to believe that maintaining laws against concealed carry is the answer to our problems with violence, it's not so easy. I mean, let's be realistic. Just because our state government says it's illegal to carry concealed weapons, that doesn't mean people don't do it. It's that rebellious nature in all of us. It's illegal to drink before you turn 21, but I'm fairly certain a large majority of the population, myself included, chose to ignore that little piece of legislation a time or two. Like the old saying goes, laws were made to be broken.
So if that's not a good enough solution, then what? Are we going to ban private citizens from owning weapons altogether? While I'm sure that would never happen (hunters simply wouldn't allow it), you can rest assured that, even with the strictest gun laws in place, we wouldn't be safe ... at that point, the only people who'd be armed would be criminals. While I still think that anyone who owns a handgun should go through a certain amount of training with that weapon, it's up to us to make the push to get concealed carry legalized. Besides, the more we allow our state government to encroach on our rights, the fewer we will have.
Limiting our right to keep and bear arms would be like taking away our right to vote ... though with this electoral college crap, it's hard for me to say whether or not our votes even make a difference. But that's a whole other can of worms I'll open some other day. All I know is that we can't let politicians walk all over their constituents. After all, they're supposed to be representing us.
Jennie Oemig
Editor
Arcadia News-Leader
First of all, if someone wants to own a gun – for protection, recreation or what have you – they have every right to do so. As of now, Wisconsin legally allows open carry, which requires citizens to keep the firearm in plain sight, but concealed carry is, for some reason, illegal. Given that we have the right to keep and bear arms, the manner in which each individual chooses to express that right should be up to the individual.
And while I'm aware that there are people out there naive enough to believe that maintaining laws against concealed carry is the answer to our problems with violence, it's not so easy. I mean, let's be realistic. Just because our state government says it's illegal to carry concealed weapons, that doesn't mean people don't do it. It's that rebellious nature in all of us. It's illegal to drink before you turn 21, but I'm fairly certain a large majority of the population, myself included, chose to ignore that little piece of legislation a time or two. Like the old saying goes, laws were made to be broken.
So if that's not a good enough solution, then what? Are we going to ban private citizens from owning weapons altogether? While I'm sure that would never happen (hunters simply wouldn't allow it), you can rest assured that, even with the strictest gun laws in place, we wouldn't be safe ... at that point, the only people who'd be armed would be criminals. While I still think that anyone who owns a handgun should go through a certain amount of training with that weapon, it's up to us to make the push to get concealed carry legalized. Besides, the more we allow our state government to encroach on our rights, the fewer we will have.
Limiting our right to keep and bear arms would be like taking away our right to vote ... though with this electoral college crap, it's hard for me to say whether or not our votes even make a difference. But that's a whole other can of worms I'll open some other day. All I know is that we can't let politicians walk all over their constituents. After all, they're supposed to be representing us.
Jennie Oemig
Editor
Arcadia News-Leader
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Cancer Touches Everyone
Because of its many forms and how common it has become, there is no doubt in my mind that everyone in the world knows at least one person who has been affected by cancer. It’s a terrible disease and, sadly, there is no cure ... at least, not yet.
Personally, I have not met a single person who hasn’t known someone – a relative, neighbor or friend – who has succumbed to, is battling or has overcome some form of cancer. My grandfather had skin cancer at one point and it is because of breast cancer that I was never able to meet my maternal grandmother. However, one of the saddest things about the disease is that it is not age discriminant. Infants, youth, teenagers, elderly ... they are all susceptible. And while, oftentimes, cancer tends to sneak up on people and take them by surprise, my personal story is a little different. I am in no way saying that I am worse off than anyone else who has had to deal directly or indirectly with cancer, but, like I said, everyone has a story. This is mine.
Imagine living your life knowing that, regardless of what you do, your chances of contracting cancer are about 80 percent. Welcome to my world. When I was 11, I developed a rash on my leg that was eerily similar to that caused by poison ivy. Considering I played Little League and was always running around in the backyard, it didn’t seem all that peculiar. My mom blotted some calamine lotion on it and I was good to go. Or so we thought. The next morning when I awoke, the rash had not only spread, but both my ankles were completely swollen. I could barely walk and, by the end of the day, my hands had swelled to the size of grapefruits, as well. From my perspective, it was unbelievably scary not knowing what was happening to me, so I can only imagine how my parents felt.
On my first visit to the doctor’s office, which would be the first of hundreds, my family physician was stumped by what was happening to me. I vividly remember him paging through textbooks and calling for consultations to try to figure out what it was I had. After being referred to a pediatrician in Marshfield, it was determined I had ulcerative colitis, a disease that affects about 50 out of every 100,000 people in the United States. Over the next few years, I became a human pincushion, in and out of clinics so often that the receptionists and phlebotomists knew me by name. Because of my age, UC seemed like the right diagnosis, but it wasn’t until a few years later that physicians determined I was afflicted with Crohn’s disease, which has very similar symptoms to UC, making it difficult for doctors to tell the difference. But, since there is no cure for Crohn’s disease, all I can do is hope that it stays in remission. Thus, I have been and will be on medication for the rest of my life.
If that weren’t enough, those who have Crohn’s for eight years or more are increasingly more prone to develop colon cancer – the longer you have it, the greater the chances. So, 16 years in, that risk is already becoming too great for my liking. All I can do now is wait ... wait for the cancer or hope I’m one of the lucky ones who doesn’t develop it. But, given my track record, luck is rarely on my side. I’m better off hoping a cure for cancer comes along. And that cannot be done without the generosity of people who donate to the American Cancer Society and partake in events like the run/walk. I’ve never lived in such a giving community like Arcadia and it warms my heart to know that there are so many people who care so much to give their time and hard-earned money to such a worthy cause. You all deserve huge pats on the back for all that you’re doing to make a difference.
Jennie Oemig
Editor
Arcadia News-Leader
Personally, I have not met a single person who hasn’t known someone – a relative, neighbor or friend – who has succumbed to, is battling or has overcome some form of cancer. My grandfather had skin cancer at one point and it is because of breast cancer that I was never able to meet my maternal grandmother. However, one of the saddest things about the disease is that it is not age discriminant. Infants, youth, teenagers, elderly ... they are all susceptible. And while, oftentimes, cancer tends to sneak up on people and take them by surprise, my personal story is a little different. I am in no way saying that I am worse off than anyone else who has had to deal directly or indirectly with cancer, but, like I said, everyone has a story. This is mine.
Imagine living your life knowing that, regardless of what you do, your chances of contracting cancer are about 80 percent. Welcome to my world. When I was 11, I developed a rash on my leg that was eerily similar to that caused by poison ivy. Considering I played Little League and was always running around in the backyard, it didn’t seem all that peculiar. My mom blotted some calamine lotion on it and I was good to go. Or so we thought. The next morning when I awoke, the rash had not only spread, but both my ankles were completely swollen. I could barely walk and, by the end of the day, my hands had swelled to the size of grapefruits, as well. From my perspective, it was unbelievably scary not knowing what was happening to me, so I can only imagine how my parents felt.
On my first visit to the doctor’s office, which would be the first of hundreds, my family physician was stumped by what was happening to me. I vividly remember him paging through textbooks and calling for consultations to try to figure out what it was I had. After being referred to a pediatrician in Marshfield, it was determined I had ulcerative colitis, a disease that affects about 50 out of every 100,000 people in the United States. Over the next few years, I became a human pincushion, in and out of clinics so often that the receptionists and phlebotomists knew me by name. Because of my age, UC seemed like the right diagnosis, but it wasn’t until a few years later that physicians determined I was afflicted with Crohn’s disease, which has very similar symptoms to UC, making it difficult for doctors to tell the difference. But, since there is no cure for Crohn’s disease, all I can do is hope that it stays in remission. Thus, I have been and will be on medication for the rest of my life.
If that weren’t enough, those who have Crohn’s for eight years or more are increasingly more prone to develop colon cancer – the longer you have it, the greater the chances. So, 16 years in, that risk is already becoming too great for my liking. All I can do now is wait ... wait for the cancer or hope I’m one of the lucky ones who doesn’t develop it. But, given my track record, luck is rarely on my side. I’m better off hoping a cure for cancer comes along. And that cannot be done without the generosity of people who donate to the American Cancer Society and partake in events like the run/walk. I’ve never lived in such a giving community like Arcadia and it warms my heart to know that there are so many people who care so much to give their time and hard-earned money to such a worthy cause. You all deserve huge pats on the back for all that you’re doing to make a difference.
Jennie Oemig
Editor
Arcadia News-Leader
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Words of Advice For The Class of 2010
With graduation right around the corner, I would like to take the time to share some words of advice with the Class of 2010 ... I'd say words of wisdom, but the approach I took to secondary education could barely be described as wisdomous. Nine years ago, I was in the same position as many of the high school seniors, I'm sure. Donning my cap and gown, the question of 'what next?' echoed in my head all throughout the commencement ceremony. Sure, I had signed up to take online accounting courses via Chippewa Valley Technical College, but was that what I really wanted? Clearly, I'm not a CPA or in a field even remotely related to accounting. Throughout high school, I excelled in math and was really good with numbers ... but the same was true for English and writing.
Many of my instructors told me that I had an aptitude for writing, but, as I looked to the future, all I saw were dollar signs. Accounting was a much better paying career than anything that had to do with writing. But, as I got older – and wiser, if I do say so myself – I realized that no amount of money would make it worth doing something I hated. I have seen so many of people out there whine about how they hate their jobs that I knew I didn't want to end up like that. After a semester and a half of online classes, I was barely eking out a C average, most likely because I wasn't enjoying the coursework. So, when spring rolled around, I applied to UW-River Falls and was accepted.
At first, I declared myself a business major, but after dropping out half way through my first semester for medical reasons, I wanted to start over. Taking some much-needed time off, I was refreshed. With a clean slate, I went back with an undeclared major and took lots of elective courses until I found my niche. From there, it was smooth sailing; after working at the college newspaper, I was more sure than ever that I wanted to go into journalism. Funny thing is that back when I was in high school, everyone in my class had to meet with the guidance counselor and take tests to determine interest, as well as skill set, for particular careers.
When all was said and done, each of us had to write down what we wanted to be ... even if we weren't sure. Last summer, while I was cleaning my old room in my parent's house, I found that very piece of paper with the career I had intended for myself written upon it. Lo and behold, I did not write accountant; ironically, I had written the word journalist. Who would have guessed I knew, before I had even entered college, where I would end up in life? It's said that it's a woman's prerogative to change her mind (I sure take advantage of that), but I think it's everyone's prerogative to be able to change their path in life. After all, it's your life. You can't look to others to make you happy and you certainly shouldn't let others make up your mind for you.
As Stevie Wonder once said, "You can't base your life on other people's expectations." My parents were pretty disappointed when I decided not to follow through with accounting, but I think, when they see the smile on my face when I talk about my job now, they know it was the right choice for me. So, in essence, I think the whole point of this long diatribe about my experiences is not to be afraid to make mistakes; learn from them, grow. And while it may sound cliche, when choosing a career path, don't put your salary before your life's passion because money will never be able to buy you happiness.
Jennie Oemig
Editor
Arcadia News-Leader
Many of my instructors told me that I had an aptitude for writing, but, as I looked to the future, all I saw were dollar signs. Accounting was a much better paying career than anything that had to do with writing. But, as I got older – and wiser, if I do say so myself – I realized that no amount of money would make it worth doing something I hated. I have seen so many of people out there whine about how they hate their jobs that I knew I didn't want to end up like that. After a semester and a half of online classes, I was barely eking out a C average, most likely because I wasn't enjoying the coursework. So, when spring rolled around, I applied to UW-River Falls and was accepted.
At first, I declared myself a business major, but after dropping out half way through my first semester for medical reasons, I wanted to start over. Taking some much-needed time off, I was refreshed. With a clean slate, I went back with an undeclared major and took lots of elective courses until I found my niche. From there, it was smooth sailing; after working at the college newspaper, I was more sure than ever that I wanted to go into journalism. Funny thing is that back when I was in high school, everyone in my class had to meet with the guidance counselor and take tests to determine interest, as well as skill set, for particular careers.
When all was said and done, each of us had to write down what we wanted to be ... even if we weren't sure. Last summer, while I was cleaning my old room in my parent's house, I found that very piece of paper with the career I had intended for myself written upon it. Lo and behold, I did not write accountant; ironically, I had written the word journalist. Who would have guessed I knew, before I had even entered college, where I would end up in life? It's said that it's a woman's prerogative to change her mind (I sure take advantage of that), but I think it's everyone's prerogative to be able to change their path in life. After all, it's your life. You can't look to others to make you happy and you certainly shouldn't let others make up your mind for you.
As Stevie Wonder once said, "You can't base your life on other people's expectations." My parents were pretty disappointed when I decided not to follow through with accounting, but I think, when they see the smile on my face when I talk about my job now, they know it was the right choice for me. So, in essence, I think the whole point of this long diatribe about my experiences is not to be afraid to make mistakes; learn from them, grow. And while it may sound cliche, when choosing a career path, don't put your salary before your life's passion because money will never be able to buy you happiness.
Jennie Oemig
Editor
Arcadia News-Leader
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