The mighty Florida Gators finally beaten so next year the Bulldogs can take a bite

By KIP BURKE news editor
Although their season is over, Georgia Bulldog football fans finally have something to cheer about – the mightily hated Florida Gators are finally defeated.

It took, of course, my Alabama Crimson Tide to not only break Florida’s 22-game unbeaten streak Saturday for the SEC Championship, but to thrash the Gators so thoroughly that there is no doubt that the Tide belongs at the top of the SEC and heading to Pasadena for the national championship.

It’s even sweeter that just a year ago, Gator quarterback Tim Tebow and his swamp reptiles defeated Bama for the SEC Championship on their way to another national title for Florida, and it looks like they sauntered into the Georgia Dome feeling invincible and looking for a repeat.

And, to be honest, after Bama’s game against Auburn last week, the Tide didn’t exactly look like a team that could beat Florida, or Texas, or even William and Mary, for that matter. But that was last week.

This week, the Gators showed up at the Dome like national champs who expected to roll right over their next opponent. What we saw, however, was a team terribly surprised, shocked by the fiercely unpredictable offense that Bama put up from the start, a team unable to understand that not only could they be beaten, but that they were being beaten.

I don’t often laugh out loud watching football games, but Saturday I did. I laughed at the confusion on the faces of Gator fans as they saw Bama have their way with Florida. I laughed at the shock on the faces of the Florida players as they realized that they were not only behind, but they were being beaten, and beaten, and beaten some more.

I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who got the grins as, between plays, the TV showed the faces of Gator fans as they registered first concern, then panic. Could we actually lose? Noooo, we’re the Gators, chomp chomp! Undefeated!

Now I know you Bulldog fans would never rejoice over the tears running down Tim Tebow’s face – that kind of schadenfreude is impolite and the relationship between the Dawg fans and Gator fans is just a friendly rivalry, right? Well, maybe not.

But the fact is, the mighty Gators have fallen. Bama’s proven that they’re not invincible after all. That means that the University of Alabama, 22-time SEC champs, will meet the Texas Heifers, I mean Longhorns, in Pasadena for the national title in January. Since the Dawgs didn’t make the post season, you might as well cheer along with me for the Tide.

And who knows, Georgia fans, now that Florida’s been whupped, maybe a resurgent Bulldog team can beat them, too, next fall, and nail a banged-up Gator hide to the locker room wall. That would be sweet.

Tonight I’m going to sit down and watch a cable rerun of Alabama beating Florida – like “It’s a Wonderful Life,” it’s a great story that I just can’t watch enough. Roll Tide.

New flu-fear hand-washing habits possible,

 New flu-fear hand-washing habits possible, it just takes the right amount of motivation
By KIP BURKE news editor

They say that old habits are hard to break, and that's true. I've had more luck substituting one habit for another, replacing a bad habit with a good one, or at least a better one.

It may be a sign that I'm not yet set in my ways, but I've gradually become a hand-washing fool and for the first time in my life, a slightly germophobic cleaner of nasty surfaces where other folks have carelessly slung their germs.

Now, properly motivated, anybody can change any habit. I remember when I was a Navy photojournalist, we called what we did "shooting" photos. That was the standard term - we'd do a photo shoot, we'd shoot this ceremony and shoot that exercise. We had shooting scripts and shooting schedules and shooting assignments. Then in 1989, the President of the U.S. came to our ship to meet with Soviet President Gorbachev, and I found out I had a bad habit.

Members of President G.H.W. Bush's Secret Service detail used our office just prior to the boss's arrival, and pointed out my bad habit. "Chief," one agent said, "we know what you mean, but could you please avoid using the word 'shoot' and 'the president' in the same sentence? It makes us a little twitchy."

Gulp. Well, after the blood returned to my head, I readily agreed, and changed that habit instantly. We "covered" the president's summit, we "documented," but we did not "shoot." Given enough motivation, we can all change.

In the past, when it came to washing hands, I was often hit-or-miss. Since I have a robust immune system and seemed to be largely impervious to most germs, although I preferred to wash up before eating, I didn't make a big deal of it if I couldn't. I was aware that all the money we handle and most public surfaces like doorknobs and handrails harbor a variety of germs, theoretically, but I wasn't motivated to do much about it unless it was convenient.

Until flu season. For the last few seasons, I've been getting better and better about realizing that, if a flu germ is going to enter my body, chances are it's going to come from my hand after that hand touched a surface on which someone has carelessly left their germs. Since I've always preferred to avoid the catching the flu, I've been more aware of that process, and had gradually become a sporadic flu-season hand-washer and nasty-germ avoider.

Now, with the swine flu seeming to affect every family in some way or another, and flu germs being slung willy-nilly all about us, I'm strongly motivated to start a new habit. I have become a hand-washing fool, washing my hands several times a day and using alcohol wipes whenever I couldn't wash.

More than that, I've become aware of when my hands have touched germ-laden surfaces and manage to keep my hands away from my face until they're clean. They say that things we touch repeatedly, like this keyboard I'm typing on, the mouse I use, my car's steering wheel and shifter, can harbor all the infectious nastiness required to get sick as dogs. So I use hand-sanitizing wipes on those surfaces every day I remember to.

Now, I'm not particularly concerned with the swine flu since it doesn't seem to be much worse than the seasonal flu, and I wouldn't take a vaccination even if I were in a qualifying group, so this new handwashing habit is pretty much my only line of defense against getting the flu this year.so far, it's working. If it doesn't, if somebody's dedicated swine flu germs penetrate my defense, I promise to keep the flu to myself and not share.

Y'all wash up for dinner, ok?
Reader Comments

Don't take shopping money out of town because all our jobs may soon follow it

By KIP BURKE news editor

It's November now, and the Christmas season is near upon us. In our community, as it is all across America, thi s recession we're in means most folks are not going to be spending near as much this year. Unemployment is way up, and those of us with jobs are holding our breath and praying that we'll keep them. For that reason, I'm begging you not to take your Christmas shopping money out of town, because the next job that's lost might be yours.

Already, Americans' demand for cheap products from the big chain stores has destroyed millions of American factory jobs, and hundreds of factory jobs just in our county. Cheap and often unsafe products manufactured in China fill those stores simply because we've foolishly demanded the lowest price at the expense of quality. We've spent years refusing to pay a dollar more, and now we've chased all those good manufacturing jobs overseas. We did that, and we need to quit it.

I know we're all cutting back this year. What money you do spend, though, I'm begging you to spend with the local shops and stores who employ our families, who make donations to all our schools, our youth, and our community. It's the local merchants and factories who buy tickets to barbecues and car washes, who support our cancer patients, our civic groups and our churches.

The stores in Augusta, Thomson, and Athens don't do this. They don't care at all about you or your children. But our business owners, our friends and neighbors, they do care and they support our community with everything from ads for football programs and yearbooks, to radio spots and newspaper ads, even when they're on the edge of bankruptcy themselves.

You can find what you want here. You've probably noticed that smart shoppers from all over the state come to shop in Washington. They come from miles around, turning up their noses at big malls, Walmart, and all their local stores to come and wander around The Square and shop in our stores. That tells me that we do have great places to shop, that we can buy our Christmas gifts here, and only here.

It's been seven years since I darkened the door of a Walmart, so I know it can be done. I shop here first.

Now, we're still blessed to have many good jobs here. Agriculture is still king in Wilkes County, and manufacturing is still vital to our workforce, but it's undeniable that the retail and service economy here is an important source of Friday paychecks, especially for a family's second or third job.

Where we spend every dollar does make a difference. Every dollar taken out of town comes out of a Wilkes County pocket forever. Every dime and dollar could mean jobs lost here. What you do does make a difference.

Spend smart, spend with your heart, and shop at home. Please.

Wilkes County's woods are full of hunters, but many deer are hiding in city backyards

[This post is from the News-Reporter.]


By KIP BURKE news editor

With all the deer hunters in the woods right now, I think I've found what they're looking for - I know where a bunch of the deer went.

They're in my yard. With more than a million whitetail deer in Georgia, and more than
million public acres on which to hunt in the state, how come a dozen deer - make that 14
are browsing my back yard right now? I mean, my garden's done for the season, so they have to settle for the usual fall buffet of acorns and grass. But it's hunting season, and I guess that makes my little in-town acre suddenly a deer magnet.

Now, we've had a good-sized deer herd living in the Grove for generations, and about half the deer I'm seeing today grew up right here. I recognize two young eight-point bucks as the fawns I've watched grow from two years ago, and their mama, plus two yearlings and another doe that have been around forever.

But the other six or eight deer seem to be strangers. I can tell them from the usual family group because they're a lot more twitchy. They don't ignore our smell and presence like the deer who have grown up seeing and smelling us since birth.

I'm not saying these Grove deer are tame by any means, they're just accustomed to us. When I walk out the door, they give me a wary glance and may shy back a few feet if I make a sudden noise, but they've figured out I'm not a threat and they don't run away. When I'm working in the garden, I've had them quietly wander up behind me, browsing within 30 feet, aware of me but not concerned.

Hunters come from all over to hunt Wilkes County's woods every year, and that drives some deer into the relative safety of the city, where they seem to know they can't be shot at. They can, however, be hit by cars and trucks, and that happens a lot this time of year. It seems like a dozen deer-car wrecks have happened this week alone all around the county, and in the city. That's one reason I appreciate hunters who come from all over the South to try to harvest our abundant deer - each one taken is one we don't have to dodge on the highway.

So far, I haven't hit a deer in my 12 years here, but I can't brag. Soon after we moved here, I nailed a loose 1,200-pound Angus bull with my wife's minivan, and terminally tenderizing a love-struck young bull makes up for dodging a lot of deer. And I have recently come way too close to hitting a buck with my motorcycle, a collision that would have been pretty unpleasant for both of us.

For that reason, I wish all you deer hunters, local and visiting, good luck and good hunting. Despite my back yard full, there's plenty to go around, and you know that monster buck is out there just waiting for y'all. Harvest all you can, because we sure don't want to thump any more of them with our vehicles.

Around here, whether it's bow, muzzle-loader, or rifle season, it's always chrome bumper season, and I'm pretty sure they can't all hide in my yard.

KIP BURKE

Burke Love at first sight really happened to me and I had no clue what a hoot it would be By KIP BURKE news editor of The News-Reporter, Washington, GA.


When I was a young man, I really didn't believe there was any such thing as love at first sight - until it happened to me, 24 years ago this week.
After all, it had taken me some time to fall in love with my dear wife, and even longer for her to fall for me. But here I was, my heart overwhelmed with love at the first sight of my first-born son, Philip. I could never have imagined how quickly this red-faced, 9-pound wiggling baby boy could steal my heart so completely, but he did, nor could I have imagined what an absolute hoot life as his father would be.
As I held him for the first time, marveling at all the muscles and lungs and mouth working so vigorously, I had no idea of all the places we'd go, the things we'd do, or the fun we'd have, but I just knew in my deepest knower that I'd never ever felt a love this absolute or this instant, clear down to my toes.
There was so much I didn't know yet, but it didn't matter. You were ours and that's all we needed.
Philip was born at the Naval Hospital in Jacksonville, Florida, and we really didn't expect to be transferred five times in five years, but that's how it worked out. He learned to walk in Michigan, learned how to be a big brother in Guam, learned how to avoid cheek-pinching girls in Italy, and learned to love climbing to the treetops in Virginia.
As he wiggled and cooed in my arms, I had only the slightest clue how much fun I would have with him and his brother Charlie as they grew. I didn't yet realize that exploring the world from a boy's point of view was just about the finest recreation a man can have, or that we'd spend hours on the floor with Matchbox cars and GI Joes, and long fun days hiking and sledding and riding bikes. I didn't know then, but it was sure fun finding out.
As Margie began her recovery and I fed my boy his first water bottle, I looked at his tiny fingers and hands and had only the slightest clue how wonderful it would feel every time his little arms would go around my neck, how special each and every snoogle, tickle and kiss would be. I never would have expected that now I'd look back and miss so badly those little boys and their hugs and whispers, and treasure all those sweet memories like a rich man counts his gold.
I had no clue, either, how much it would hurt to leave when duty called, to see all the tears I caused and couldn't fix, and I had no idea I'd up and leave the Navy when I realized that these boys deserved my devotion more than the Department of Defense did.
I hadn't thought, either, that one day they'd both be full-grown men, broad of shoulder and smile, each his own man with his own mind but bearing my DNA so clearly it's both an honor for me and a little scary for us all.
And now, 24 years since I first fell in love at first sight, there's still so much I don't know, and it still doesn't matter. You are ours and that's still all we need. Happy Birthday, son.

Reader Comments

Posted By anncooper (6/8/2009 2:43 AM EDT):	Report Post
Another great article. Thanks