December 21, 2009
Each year, Grinnell, IA garners its fair share of national press. But it is rare to hear mention of the town without the context of its highly-ranked, progressive institution.
But while browsing through a New York Times piece, the familiar double N’s and L’s of the town’s name caught my eye.
The article illustrated some of the very specific provisions some Senators have been able to write into the Health Bill to benefit their constituencies, explaining:
“Another provision of the bill would increase Medicare payments to certain “low-volume hospitals” treating limited numbers of Medicare patients. Senator Tom Harkin, Democrat of Iowa and chairman of the Senate health committee, said this “important fix” would help midsize Iowa hospitals in Grinnell, Keokuk and Spirit Lake.”
So there you have it- although significantly watered-down, the Bill would not only justly expand health care to millions who could not previously afford it, but it also might improve a struggling hospital (at least I’ve heard Grinnell Regional Medical Center is quite under-resourced) in an adorable, groovy town.
And all signs point to passage.
December 9, 2009
The blizzard has slowed life in Iowa City to a crawl.
The drone of a distant snow blower accents the scraping sounds of plastic shovels on concrete. Absent are the sounds of car engines and the occasional tire-screech of an overambitious driver.
One-foot of wet snow covers the earth and every man-made object protruding from it.
Normally bustling life in downtown Iowa City has slowed to a crawl as an epic blizzard – complete with sub-zero winds – reminds us that despite our magnificent technologies, Mother Nature still reigns supreme over man.
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November 22, 2009
Come to think about it, he looked a bit like Keith Richards
It is close to noon as Katie and I saunter down a sidewalk parallel to Jefferson Street.
Heading back to my apartment after finishing breakfast at the Bluebird Diner, we enjoy Iowa City’s surprisingly mild late-November weather.
Then we spot something in the distance.
“Oh don’t do it, don’t do it,” Katie jokes as we approach Mercy Hospital.
We observe a man in a black leather jacket, white t-shirt and jeans take two final, abnormally massive puffs of his cigarette.
“Oh, he did it,” she says as the man, quite near a trash dispenser, forcefully throws the cigarette’s well-spent carcass onto Mercy’s lawn.
Turning 90 degrees counterclockwise, he slowly heads toward us.
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November 16, 2009
In the free-weight section of University-sponsored gym, Fitness East, a 2 by 6-foot section of one of the walls is covered with flashy advertisements for a program called High Intensity Training.
But according to one ad, those who enroll “must to be prepared to work harder than you ever thought you could!” (sic). Looking at a sign-up sheet for the program, I was surprised to find only one student brave enough ask for more information.
He can be reached at mike-rotch@uiowa.edu.
November 7, 2009
I spotted one notably awful T at today’s football game. I can’t find it online to provide a link, presumably because it’s so awful.
A black T-shirt with gold letters read, “We may not go down in history, but we’ll go down on your sister.”
November 4, 2009
Former UI Student Jacques Similhomme
At about 1:00 pm on October 10, Dessalines Similhomme received a phone call while standing near the bank of the Cedar River. While maneuvering a boat near where the Prairie Creek empties into the river, a three-man volunteer search team spotted something near the shore– a dead body.
After learning of the body’s location, Similhomme, 58, tried to follow the shoreline to get a look. Blocked by some mangled trees, remnants of the 2008 Iowa flood, Dessalines could only view the body in the distance. But utterly exhausted from two weeks of lobbying, searching, and hoping, he had no doubt about its identity.
“I just knew it was Jacques,” he says from his Rochester Minnesota home.
Dessalines phoned the Cedar Rapids police who, along with firefighters, arrived in swarms to retrieve the body, now faceless and bloated, after spending two weeks in the water. Five days later, examiners confirmed it was Jacques Similhomme. But during Dessalines’ two-week search for his son, the authorities’ mad-dash to the scene was one of the few times they had come to his aid, he says.
“No one did anything,” says Dessalines, a former pastor in Haiti, who came with his family to Cedar Rapids to escape religious and political persecution.
The response of University and city authorities to Jacques’ case has challenged Dessalines’ once idealistic conceptions of America and left him searching for answers.
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November 3, 2009
Outside of 217 North Gilbert Street, passers-by can spot a red and blue-striped pole, one of just a handful of barber shop demarcations left in Iowa City.
As cold rain pours down on a Thursday afternoon, Jim Friday and his two customers stay warm and dry inside his small, fluorescently lit shop. The thick condensation covering each window temporarily hides the wet darkness of the outside world.
Friday, 62, has been the only one to touch the comb, clippers or razor inside the shop. Since 1968, he has served owner and sole employee of Friday’s Barber Shop – one of the last bastions of traditional barbering in Iowa City.
Beyond the price of a haircut, increased from $6.50 to $16.50, Friday has changed little inside the shop over the past 42 years. He has once switched the plastic waiting chairs and reupholstered his two barber chairs, but the shop maintains much of its original look and feel.
Wood paneled walls still display advertisements for the “new” Crosley Station Wagon and hydraulic breaks. A hand-crank, gray metal cash register still sounds an ancient “ding,” after each of Friday’s sales.
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October 31, 2009
Downtown was littered with drunken costumed students tonight, making for some fun interaction and observations. Here are my favorites…
Always Answer ‘Hawkeyes’
While transitioning between Hookah and pizza joints, two young women dressed in scanty referee attire – whistles and all – approached Harrison and I:
Referee girl: *slurring her speech* “Whuh-t team arre you rooting for?”
Me: *Matter-of-factly* “The referees.”
Referee girl: *…pauses…clearly confused, blows whistle, skips away* “Penalty!!!…liking the wrong team!!!”
Harrison: “You know the correct answer is always ‘Hawkeyes.’”
Me: “I guess that’s what I get for trying to be clever.”
Not Even A GPS would Help
At the Dubuque Street Pizza joint, an inebriated student in a surgeon getup was having trouble finding his way:
Surgeon Guy: “Can you give me directions?”
Pizza Girl: “Um, maybe. Where to?”
Surgeon Guy: “I-I don’t know.”
Pizza Girl: “It’s difficult to give directions if you don’t know where you’re going.”
Surgeon Guy: “I know! That’s the problem!”
October 31, 2009
But give a shout out to Iowa too!
Two and a half months into my Iowa City stay, I have finally capitulated to the pressures of the masses. Today I hesitate to label myself a keenly focused Michigander. But maybe I shouldn’t worry. Perhaps my pragmatism has simply briefly overpowered my strangely intense – somewhat nationalistic – love of my home state.
After long resisting the siren calls of the town’s Hawkeye-saturated apparel market, I am now the reluctant owner of a simple gray, hooded sweatshirt with block letters “IOWA” painted across then front. I find myself just one stutter-step away from a leap onto the Iowa football bandwagon. But I promise – my new relationship with Iowa football is merely circumstantial.
Saying Yes to Michigan – Baptism to Confirmation
I never fully realized the strength of my love for Michigan until I stopped living there. Sure I cheered, often passionately, for the state’s major sports teams – the Tigers, Lions, Pistons, Redwings and Wolverines – while there. But just as a baptized youngster rarely questions the merits of attending mass while living under a devout Christian’s roof, I rarely thought about why I cheered; my love for Michigan teams was based solely upon circumstantial faith. With no basis for comparison, I could hardly consider the merits of fan-bases outside the Michigan bubble.
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Each year, Grinnell, IA garners its fair share of national press. But it is rare to hear mention of the town without the context of its highly-ranked, progressive institution.
