New Blog!

I've decided to expand my reach into the blogosphere with a new blog aimed at a fairly narrow audience. Having grown up in northeast Montana and covered sports in that part of the world for a number of years, I've returned to my roots with the MonDak Sports Blog.

The first couple of stories have been posted. There's news from the Northern B Divisional Track Meet this past weekend in Glasgow and the upcoming Bump N Run Racing season in eastern Montana. I plan to include coverage this summer of American Legion baseball in the region as well as some rodeo results and anything else that comes up regarding sports. If you have any suggestions or maybe are planning to attend an event and take along a digital camera, let me know. I'd love to hear from you and share the photos and results.

Thanks.

Dave

How's my Driving???

I drove back to Jamestown, ND today from my parent's home in Plentywood, MT. Anyone who's driven eastern Montana and western North Dakota knows that there is a lot of wide open spaces. Perfect for letting your mind wander so you can come up with offbeat ideas as you drive. Today was no different.

As I was on US Highway 2 between Culbertson, MT and Williston, ND, I was following a semi-truck from Saskatchewan that sported one of those "How's my driving? Call 1-800 yadda yadda" stickers. Well the guy wasn't driving erratically or anything. But I got the idea to call the number anyway, just to see what would happen.

Like I thought, my call went to a call center in some far off place. At least it was somewhere in the US or Canada though, judging from the accent of the operator. When she asked what I had to report, I gave her the code number on the back of the truck and said "I just wanted to tell you that this driver is doing a wonderful job today!" She said "What was that?" And I repeated "He's driving in a responsible manner and I thought you should know that."

That seemed to shock her a bit, so I continued, "The sign on the back of the truck doesn't say 'If my driving sucks call, it says How's my driving' and I figured you and the driver could use some good news once in a while."

That caused her to start laughing and seemed to really brighten her day, which in turn helped with my mood.

Try it next time you're on the road and are behind a semi with one of those stickers, call it and tell the operator you want to report a good driver. I'd love to hear the reaction you get. If you're in radio, this could make a funny prank phone bit. I know I'll be using it at my next on-air job.

Winds of Change in a Small Town

The following was written by Lynn Loucks Newnam, who graduated from Plentywood (Montana) High School after I did. She posted it to Facebook, and since she doesn't have her own blog, I asked if she would allow me to repost it here to give it a potentially wider audience. Dave

Like so many others who were born in raised in Eastern Montana, my family homesteaded our farm over 100 years ago. My grandfather broke his first 40 acres walking behind a plow. He and my grandmother lived in a sod house that first winter in 1908. Over the years they raised 6 children on that piece of land. My father and all 3 of his brothers served when their country called and their sisters taught in schoolhouses in towns that no longer exist. The ghosts of that time still echo in the rotting timbers of the old barn, the rusted metal of an ancient thrasher and the worn dates on tombstones.

In the past few years, our governor has come to Eastern Montana twice to speak at high school graduations in dying towns that have one graduating student. These were communities that used to be bustling with church socials, community square dancing, and swelling with pride when their basketball teams won. Today, the governor shows up for one student? Why didn’t anyone show up when the price of wheat was $2.25 a bushel? Why didn’t anyone show up when farmers were auctioning off their land for pennies on the dollar? Where was our governor when those schools were graduating 20 to 30 students? Why show up for the requiem when you never bothered to show up to celebrate the life of rural Montana? A message of hope rings hollow in a rural community where people drive 40 miles to the nearest grocery store and 300 miles to the nearest trauma center.

I heard the governor speak to a group of high school students once. He said, “The future of Montana lies in Eastern Montana. We will not forget about you.” I guess that’s the problem with words. They are so easy to say, but so hard to mean. Teacher’s make $22,000/year starting pay in Eastern Montana, correctional officers make $15 an hour, and over 500 oil field workers have been laid off in the Williston Basin in the last 6 months. Most of these guys were locals – home owners and contributors to the local tax base. To add insult to injury our government just made it easier for these same oil companies to hire Mexicans with Mexican driver’s licenses to drive trucks and work on rigs here in the Williston Basin.

I too left the comforts of rural Montana for the excitement and lights of the big city. I moved to LA and I lived there for 15 years. I took a $30,000 pay cut to move home, but I’m home now. It saddens me that we our losing our rural culture, a way of life, and the opportunity to make a living and a future for our children.
We reminisce about the “old days.” My dad reminisces about buildings, businesses, post offices, schools and towns that just don’t exist anymore. I hope that my children and grandchildren we be able to experience the places I reminisce about and not just hear about them in stories.

George Bernard Shaw wrote, “The more things change, the more they stay the same.” Some philosophers think this statement suggests that turbulent change doesn’t affect reality on a deeper level…….I guess they’ve never seen a farmer covered in the day’s sweat and dust praying at sunset for rain.