Hey Hamilton County Democrats, it’s time to put up, or shut up.

I’ve been told several times in recent weeks that longtime Republican dominance in Hamilton County is coming to an end. Of course, this analysis comes from Democrats. As I look at the slate of candidates for county offices in the November General Election, all I can think is, the proof is in the pudding.

Ten county offices are up for grabs. Just two of those have Democrats slated for November’s election.

In May, we began hearing how Democrats are finally getting some options to vote for in the county. Earlier this month, the Democratic Party opened its first permanent headquarters in Hamilton County since the 1980s. Hamilton County Democratic Chairman Keith Clock said the 42,000 people who voted in the county’s Democratic primary is proof of the high number of Democrats who are finally able to stand up and be counted after decades of being forced to vote Republican, or for nothing at all.

Happy days are here again. Or are they?

The first true test will come in the presidential election in November. Lot’s of Hamilton County voters cast their ballot for a Democratic presidential candidate in May. Will they this fall?

Nothing draws voters like a presidential election. In May, the ability to choose between presidential candidates inspired many to carry a little card marked with a D into Hamilton County voting booths – many doing so for the first time.

While the Republican race was already sewn up, Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton were still engaged in mortal combat in May. As we were told ad nauseam, this time Indiana’s votes counted in the presidential race.

Well, all Hamilton County voters – not just those casting a Democratic ballot – will have the opportunity to choose between viable presidential candidates come November. Anyone else get the feeling that presumptive Republican candidate John McCain will carry the reddest county in one of the reddest states in the nation?

For me though, the true sign that a party has come of age shows in the local offices. Eight county offices on the ballot in November offer only Republican candidates. Eight out of 10. That’s pretty dominant if you ask me.

It’s true that as more new residents move into the area, Democrats will be amongst them.

And I absolutely agree that many people in the county who would otherwise choose a Democratic ballot in the primaries vote Republican here in Hamilton County so that they can have a say in their local government. Therein lies the problem. If the Hamilton County Democratic Party wants to lay claim to a great coming out, then they need to give the closet Democrats a reason to come out of the closet.

Until the party offers a substantial slate of local candidates, any reports of the demise of Republican dominance in Hamilton County are greatly exaggerated.

An historic ruling handed down Thursday by the U.S. Supreme Court has Second Amendment supporters cheering and others jeering.

I’m not a legal scholar, but I have covered the law most of my career, and read way more than my share of Supreme Court opinions. In the end, I think the court got it right.

The ruling in District of Columbia, et al v. Heller struck down a Washington D.C. law that essentially prohibited handgun ownership. The court ruled that the Second Amendment guarantees individuals the right to own guns.

It is the first time since 1939 that the court had taken on the issue of Americans’ right to bear arms.

In the 64-page majority opinion, Justice Antonin Scalia acknowledged that many feel that right, as promised in the Bill of Rights, is “outmoded.” But, he wrote, “… it is not the role of this court to pronounce the Second Amendment extinct.”

From a legal standpoint, I think that is right on the money. You hear so much political rhetoric about “activist judges” trying to legislate from the bench. Those occurrences are few and far between, but make for good fodder by those with a political axe to grind. This ruling is a perfect example of how government should work, and in fact, usually does work here in America – the legislative branch makes the laws, the judicial branch determines if those laws are being followed.

As for the bigger, real world application of the decision – will this lead to more crime and violent deaths – only time will tell, but my guess it will not.
Many nations allow their citizens to own guns yet do not see the number of gun-related deaths we see in the U.S. That tells me there are forces at play other than just the right to bear arms. Yet many believe stricter laws are the answer to bringing down violent crime rates.

If history teaches us anything, it is that enacting more laws seldom solves anything.

Ironically, this week was the 75th anniversary of Indiana ratifying the 21st Amendment, which repealed Prohibition. Leading up to Prohibition, many claimed outlawing alcohol would cut crime and immorality. Once it was imposed in 1920, Prohibition had the exact opposite effect, leading to organized crime and making otherwise law-abiding citizens turn to dangerous bootleg liquor. You can’t legislate morality.

When it comes to guns, the government can make all the laws it wants and criminals will still get their hands on them.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t believe all Americans have the right to own bazookas. Justice Scalia, in the majority opinion, pointed out that like all rights, the Second Amendment is not unlimited.

I grew up with guns, shooting from practically the time I could walk. I have no handguns in my house, though. I removed them when I had kids. Despite the availability of trigger locks and gun cabinets, I just didn’t feel secure having one in the house where my kids or their friends might somehow stumble across it. Better safe than sorry.

But I don’t feel it is my place to tell others they can’t have guns in their homes. And I don’t feel it is the government’s place, either.

As Henry David Thoreau wrote in his influential essay “Civil Disobedience,” echoing the feelings of the founding fathers, “That government is best which governs the least.”

From a very early age, I wanted to be a dad. Even as a little kid, I remember wanting to have kids of my own – progeny to help guide, protect and mold into a living legacy.

What the hell was I thinking?

Being a father is hard. It’s like trying to pick up a penny while wearing boxing gloves. It’s maddening. It leaves you wondering if there is any hope for success.

Then your daughter brings home a bar of soap she fashioned into a fish for you as a Father’s Day gift during an art project at daycare, and the gloves come off. Suddenly you aren’t merely picking up a penny, but acquiring a wealth you never dreamed possible.

Of course, two hours later that same sweet soap artist refuses to comply in any way as you get her ready for a bath – running butt naked through the house laughing louder and louder the angrier and angrier you get – and those 12-ounce Everlasts are back, firmly affixed to your hands.

There’s no way to prepare for the rollercoaster ride that is fatherhood until you are strapped in that seat and shooting through a corkscrew.

People try to warn you about how tough it can be – the diapers filled with stuff that couldn’t possibly have come from inside a human, the frustration of potty training, the whining over the most inane things.

You might think you get it, but until you’ve dealt with the full-scale meltdown of your own child in a crowded restaurant, you have no clue.

People try to tell you about the rewards – the first time your child calls you daddy, the hugs, the laughter that echoes through your soul.

You might think you get it, but until you’ve tucked your son into bed, and he says “you’re the best daddy I’ve ever had in the world,” you have no clue.
Fatherhood is not what I expected at all. Sometimes that’s a good thing. Sometimes that’s a very bad thing.

One of the main reasons I wanted to be a father was to instill life lessons. I looked forward to those days of intense heart-to-hearts where I’d teach my children right from wrong, and how to avoid the mistakes I’ve made.

What I’ve learned with two toddlers – Zach is 4, Emily 2 – is that they learn much more from watching than from being told. That’s been a tough lesson for me. I’ve long known what I wanted to tell my kids about any number of issues. I’ve always been good at explaining a situation or teaching someone how to do something or simplifying a matter. What I’ve always struggled with is setting a good example with my own behavior.

I’ve never been someone who cares what others think of him. I’ve lived my life on my own terms, and if anyone had an issue with me, that was their problem. Just as pregnant women are told they are eating for two, however, as a father of two, I feel I’m living for three. The impressions I make do matter now. Destructive behavior I may exhibit impacts more than just me, whether I like it or not. I care deeply what my children think of me.

By far the toughest thing for me as a dad has been striking that delicate balance between buddy and bully. Every parent wants their kids to love them. Nothing feels better to me than being my son’s funny pal, my daughter’s hero. But being a good parent means being just that, a parent, not a friend. It’s tough being the bad guy – making them go to bed when they don’t want to, saying no when they want that new toy.

On the flip side, I have to allow them to be kids, and not hover over them, scrutinizing every step or misstep. I’ve always been a bit of a control freak – about as anal retentive a person as you’d ever meet. I’ve always craved order and perfection. Life with kids is messy, though. They will force you to either let go of that, or go insane. The jury’s still out on which path I’ve chosen.

One thing is for sure, Zach and Emily have made me a better man. Fatherhood has been harder than I could have ever imagined, but I’m so much more complete for having experienced it.

Tomorrow, they will present me various handmade crafts and cards their mother picked out thanking me for all I’ve done for them. Yet I should be thanking them.

Father’s Day is supposed to be a day when kids tell their dads how lucky they are to have them as a parent. We fathers, though, we know we are the lucky ones.

I was watching the Michael Moore documentary “Bowling for Columbine” again the other night when nothing else was on television. The film – about guns and violence in America – got me to thinking.

I find Moore for the most part to be a bombastic boob. Often his “interviews” in his films are nothing more than ambushes used to spin the message and drive an agenda, not seek the truth. As someone who also grew up in a hunting family, I also believe in responsible gun ownership. However, I am someone who eagerly exposes himself to points of view different than my own in hopes of better understanding a subject.

Moore’s 2002 documentary did not help me better understand the Second Amendment to the United States Constitution, but it did raise one interesting thought with which I agree wholeheartedly: America is a nation that loves to be afraid.

The film points out how Americans are constantly bombarded with messages of doom to the point that we are one of the few places in the world where nearly everyone locks the doors of their homes.

This point was hammered home Tuesday night as I watched local television news coverage of thunderstorms that blew through the state. While each of the networks I scanned no doubt felt they were providing a public service, much of the coverage was blatant fear mongering.

On one station, the meteorologist worked hard to keep things in perspective, despite the best efforts of the anchors to get him to scream “WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIE!”

Let’s make no mistake, I am a longtime, unabashed basher of local TV weatherpeople. But this particular meteorologist was performing admirably, and was performing a vital public service. Yet the station was dedicating more than a full hour to storm team coverage during the late primetime slot, so the anchors had to keep the broadcast compelling.

Repeatedly they asked the weatherman to compare the size of a storm looming in Illinois to those that ripped through Indianapolis a week ago Friday. Despite the radar jockey’s best attempts to explain that size doesn’t matter in a thunderstorm, that intensity is what kills, the anchors picked and prodded. I was waiting for the weather guy to give up and say “fine, this line of storms in Illinois will no doubt produce tornadic activity that will trumpet the arrival of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.” He held his ground, however, pointing out over and over that all the tornado warnings in the state had been cancelled by then.

All you have to do is turn on the TV, read a newspaper or pick up a magazine and you see food recall after food recall. You are told that meat will kill you and you have to drink 50 gallons of water a day or you will die or that this drug or that is the only way to keep from getting breast cancer. The government tells us that security threats are changing colors and that terrorists are going to blow us all to smithereens.

This isn’t simply a matter of the evil media trying to sell copies of their product. The problem is the proliferation of media. Fifty years ago, a tragedy might be played out on three TV stations and a few radio stations. Now it’s on a few dozen TV stations and hundreds of Web sites. This leads to the erroneous conclusion that school shootings are on the rise. They aren’t. Or that violent crime rates continue to skyrocket. They aren’t. People must learn to keep such reports in perspective. But it is hard.

It’s enough to make you take off and head to the woods for a long weekend.

I’ve detailed the nearly-obsessive love my son has for all things racing many times. It’s scary how big a racing fan he is as a 4-year-old, watching every NASCAR and IRL race that is on television, and using racing jargon as he plays with his toy cars — or his sister’s baby strollers for that matter.

He does not get it from me. I love sports, but have never been a huge motor sports fan. I’ve not discouraged his obsession. Afterall, it’s not like he’s becoming a white supremacist or a Pistons fan. In the past couple years, I’ve learned far more about racing than I ever imagined I would because of Zach.

Well, now it appears he has infected his sister.

Sunday offered up a tricky twin bill of racing, with the NASCAR and Indy Car races running at the same time. I had a lot of work to do around the house, and Zach couldn’t choose just one race. Well, I allowed him to take his first step into manhood, and control the remote. That’s right. I sat him up on the couch with some pretzels, a drink and the remote and taught him how the “recall” button works, so he could switch from race to race at his whim.

At one point in the afternoon, I listened as he explained to 2-year-old Emily that he was watching the Indy Car race and only switching occasionally to the NASCAR race because “NASCAW waces are longoo then Indy Caw waces, and the NASCAW wace will still be on when the Indy Caw wace is over.” Despite his difficulty pronouncing his Rs, he made a compelling argument.

What shocked and dismayed me, though, was after he switched to the Indy Car race during a commercial in the NASCAR race, I heard Emily’s little voice scream in protest, “No, I want watch NATHCAR.”

I’d always heard that when you have kids who go to school or daycare, you would get sick constantly because of all the bugs they bring home, but soon you’d build up some superhuman immunity and never be under the weather again.

Bullsnot … which is the substance I think is emanating from my cranial orifices even as I write this. I have had roughly 58 colds this winter. Or, more accurately, 1 cold — which I caught in September and which remains lodged in my lungs and sinus passages today.

I’ve had a kid in daycare/nursery school for more than four years now — two the past two years. While each has the occasional sniffles, the little carriers seem to be remarkably healthy considering the number of bugs they’ve brought home to me in recent years. My question is when does my superparent immune system kick in? I should be like freaking Wolverine by now.

Rampant rumors and nearly nonstop speculation led the Hamilton Southeastern school board Thursday to finally offer some insight into the termination of Superintendent Concetta Raimondi’s contract.

In an e-mail to parents, the board said district administrators were fed up with Raimondi’s leadership. The board spelled out all that went into the decision and what is on the horizon.

My question is – what took so long?

That message was sent nearly a week after the board decided to cut ties with the superintendent. In the note, the board said it came to the conclusion last Friday, Feb. 22, that a “change in leadership was urgent.” The news was delivered to Raimondi the following day.

Monday the board made it official, saying only that it was seeking a change in direction and wanted a superintendent with more experience managing large school corporations as well as a greater focus on developing math and science curriculum.

The community saw right through that. After all, the board had just given Raimondi a three-year contract extension in August worth $151,800 a year. It was clear the board was either being less than open concerning the reason for the termination, or it was monumentally myopic to offer a raise and contract extension to someone it didn’t feel could get the job done.

I, like most in the community, believed the board wasn’t telling the truth, or at least the whole truth.

On the heels of the Scott Syverson debacle, without any reasonable explanation for the termination, the community was abuzz with conjecture. Everywhere I went this week people wanted to talk about the situation. Many believed the termination had to be connected to the Syverson situation despite the board’s statement that the two were unrelated.

Other rumors were much more insidious, offering up possible reasons far worse than an administrative mutiny.

The board could have avoided all of this gossip by simply coming out Monday and saying what they waited until Thursday to say in an e-mail. I understand the board is limited in what it can disclose in a personnel matter. But if they could clue parents into the rift between Raimondi and administrators on Thursday, they could have done it on Monday.

By being secretive, the board gave the appearance that something far more sinister was at play and thus provided grist for the rumor mill.

I’ve seen it happen so many times in my career. Someone releases just enough information to fuel speculation, only to have to come back later and douse the flames by providing facts that could have been provided all along.

In this instance, I felt the school board owed taxpayers an explanation for why it would soon be paying two superintendents in the Hamilton Southeastern district. Under terms of an early termination clause in Raimondi’s contract, she is entitled to approximately $266,000 in severance. The Noblesville Daily Times continued to ask questions. The district was obviously getting questions from many parents, too, as indicated in the e-mail sent Thursday by the board.

On our Web site, our online poll asked if readers felt the district owed taxpayers more details about the situation. In two days 66 people responded. Of those, 57 said yes, the district needed to provide more information.

In the post-9/11 era, government has become increasingly secretive. Too much governing is being done behind too many closed doors. A frightened populous allows this to happen when it hands over its rights in exchange for a feeling of security.

March 16-22 is Sunshine Week – a national initiative to open dialogue about the importance of open government and freedom of information. I urge you to think about and discuss the need for open government. I urge you to continue to hold public officials’ feet to the fire to make them do your business in front of you. To learn more about Sunshine week or to participate, go to http://www.sunshineweek.org/.

I’m slowly becoming a believer. I’m not talking about the holy spirit here, but some type of spirit or spirits that reportedly share the Model Mill Building with the Noblesville Daily Times and other businesses.

I’m quite skeptical when it comes to most things. That’s partly due to my seeing-is-believing outlook on life, and partly because my given profession requires me to be so. I believe most ghost sightings, UFO close encounters and run-ins with Big Foot have some plausible explanation.

But I’ve also seen enough to know that we humans don’t know as much as we think we do.

I’ve long heard that the Model Mill Building is haunted. The historic structure is one of the stops on the Unseen Press ghost walks that visit locales around Noblesville. In October, around Halloween, I heard many stories of strange occurrences here in the building when we asked people for their personal ghost stories. Jerry Snyder recently wrote about some of the strange happenings and a couple deaths associated with the building in her “Now and Then” column in our paper.

As usual, I’d written most of those stories off to overactive imaginations. But some unexplained incidents have hit pretty close to home – particularly one that was reported to me this week.

Our digital media manager, Ryan Dillman – who is at least as big a skeptic as me – heard whistling and the sound of papers rustling in my office about 6 p.m. Thursday. That’s not unusual as I’m typically in my office at that time, and I frequently whistle while I work.

Ryan went into my office to talk to me, and found it empty. I had left early Thursday to meet my family for a Valentine’s Day dinner.

A bit confused, he began walking back to his desk when he heard giggling coming from my office. He checked each office in the newsroom, but all were empty.

This comes during a week when some very weird things have been going on with our computers and other equipment.

Technology always has some glitches, but some of the stuff that has happened this week defies explanation – folders getting moved in our system, files that I know I saved reverting back to a previous copy, our trusty printer refusing to print without warning and then deciding to print later, and much more. All week we’ve joked about gremlins running around the office.

After hearing Ryan’s story, maybe it isn’t gremlins, after all.

Ghost stories began popping up around the newsroom again Friday after we heard about Ryan’s experience.

Many times I’ve been in the newsroom alone about 2:30 or 3 a.m. on a Saturday after putting together that morning’s edition. Everyone else will have already left, when I hear the door to the newsroom open. I can’t see the door from my desk, so I assume it is one of the sports staff or Managing Editor Rob Borders coming back for something they forgot. When I don’t hear anyone, I go out into the newsroom to see that I’m still alone. This typically leads to me locking the newsroom door. I ain’t ’fraid of no ghost, but then again, my mamma didn’t raise no fool, either.

Several months ago, page designers Keri McGruder and Heather Hafer were leaving the newsroom, when they turned the corner and saw someone step onto the elevator. The door of the elevator remained open until they reached it. Stepping in, they were preparing to thank the person for holding the door for them. But no one was inside.

I’m sure some of these instances have perfectly plausible explanations. Strange noises aren’t uncommon in an old building. And computers tend to do things that make no sense. Of course, that’s what I’m going to keep telling myself.

My kids love Scooby Doo. Especially my 4-year-old son, Zach. Every evening we watch two episodes back to back on Cartoon Network. I must say this makes me happy, as I loved Scooby Doo when I was a kid, and as a college student — for entirely different reasons. But I digress.

What is cool about our nightly double feature is the fact that the first episode is from the classic “Scooby Doo Where Are You!” series I grew up watching. The second episode is from the more recent “What’s New Scooby Doo?” series. I was unaware this series, which was produced between 2002-2006, even existed until we started watching it about a month ago. I must say I dig “What’s New Scooby Doo?” (with the exception of a cameo by the band Smash Mouth, who I hate out loud. The old cameos by the likes of Sonny and Cher and the Harlem Globe Trotters were much better.) The newer series retains the spirit of the original, and even manages to poke a little fun at its predecessor.

I love that the producers of the new series took the time to update Fred’s and Daphne’s look, while Scooby, Shaggy and Velma remain unchanged. I do miss Fred’s ascot from the original series, though. Check out the classic and new looks.

Classic look

New look

Sorry, this post probably is not what you expected it to be about. It is in fact about local television weather reports.

 I understand TV weathermen (weathermen and weatherwomen… weatherpeople… what is the PC title?) are in a no-win situation. If they underplay a storm, they can be accused of not properly warning the public. If they overhype it, then some smart ass like me criticizes them on a blog. But far too often they over sale a storm prediction to the point that everyone feels compelled to rush out and buy every available gallon of milk and every loaf of bread.

All I’d heard for days was that we could get 6 to 8 inches Thursday night. Well, we got an inch or two.

 But that isn’t what bugs me most about TV weather people. My biggest beef is with the infamous “windchill factor” and the dreaded “heat index.” I understand the concept behind these terms, factoring in wind and humidity, etc. But the TV people take great joy in saying those windchill or heat index numbers mean it “feels like” it is a certain temperature. How the hell do they know what it “feels like” to me. You see, feeling is a subjective sense. To someone who lived all their life on the equator, a windchill of 2 degrees will “feel” a whole lot different than it does to someone who grew up in Greenland.