Do not renew your contract, Heidi

I can always tell when summer is upon us. We start grilling out more. We stay up later. We wear the same clothes over and over and ... we watch America's Got Talent.

When the show started four years ago, Jerry Springer was the host and that was the most non-talent that we saw. We heard kids singing and playing instruments as their parents stood in the wings with tears in their eyes watching their own their own child's dreams being realized. We saw magic tricks. We saw vantriloquests. We saw dancers. We cheered them all on as America's biggest talent show zoomed across the country finding the most talented people who dared to come on stage.

Breakfast just got real.

Can't we all just get along?

Oh, if only all the people of the world could get along like so many multi-hued whole grain Cheerios in a bowl of breakfast. General Mills stepped into a big old pot of racist rhetoric with their new, adorable commercial featuring a gorgeous, expressive, chubby-cheeked little girl and her parents. One of whom happens to be while, while the other is black.

Here's a tip

You want change with that?

There is currently a motion in Federal Appeals courts in New York over who is entitled to the tips in the jar at Starbucks. Is it the hourly wage earning baristas who craft your coffee creations? The salaried assistant managers in charge of the store and all the fancy, up-priced coffee beans therein? Or the shift supervisors who live in between, making an hourly wage, crafting coffee and managing beans?

Because everyone wants a nibble off the lemon pound cake ... apple fritter--nay! Petite vanilla scone!--that is the tip jar. Sorry; I've yet to have my breakfast.

Happy Memorial Day!

Good News Friday

This has been a rough week for the Heartland. On Monday, an EF5 tornado ripped through the town of Moore, Oklahoma. All the chicks who make up Chick Wit live in Tornado Alley. I'm from Kansas, Mari and Heather are both from Oklahoma. In fact, Mari lives just two miles from the devastated area. She wrote about her experience in the shelter with her children during those awful moments - "Of course you're scared, this is scary." Heather wrote about the aftermath - "Look For The Helpers."

While the tornado didn't hit close to my home, it hit close to my heart because so many of my friends were affected. The damage is unfathomable. There are cars sitting where elementary classrooms used to be. Homes were not only torn from their foundations, the contents were blown miles away. Lives were taken. Young lives. I can't think about that.

It's hard to find something to smile about, but there are smile-worthy stories out there. Here are just a few.

Oklahoma

The kids at Veteran's Park in Moore, Ok.

How can I talk about anything else?

That was my bank. The 7-11 where I buy gas. The hospital where I take my kids to see their pediatrician. The bank where I cashed a check at just after 2pm. The bowling alley where we held my daughter's birthday party.

The park where I take my kids.

The park that is 3 miles away, that was hit by a tornado that was possibly 2 miles wide, with a 2.5 mile wide debris ball surrounding it.

Idiocy Incarnate

There is nothing that provides more proof of God's gift of free will than Pat Robertson. 'Cause I'm convinced that if God didn't want us to have free will, he'd have done away with Mr. Robertson year ago ... probably about the time Pat declared the Haitian earthquake a result of their pact with the devil. Or maybe He'd have smitted (smitted?) ol' Pat when he declared Alzheimer's grounds for divorce. I'm sure that if God were a vindictive God He'd have beat the s#!+ outta Pat when Pat declared an abusive partner should be, well, abused right back.