December 3, 2009

In November, Florence Tolland became the newest recipient of a Centenarian Certificate from President Obama honoring her recent 105th birthday.

Jane Teahan, the director of activities, presented the award to Tolland who said she was honored to receive it.

This past August at Presidential Oaks in Concord, where Tolland has lived since 2002, a party was thrown in honor of her birthday. Tolland was born in 1904 and is now one of the growing number of Americans who can claim this milestone award.

The number of centenarians in the United States has tripled since 1995 from 25,000 to 96,000. More recently, in 2005 the number of centenarians was recorded at more than 55,000. Whether the rising number of Americans reaching 100 years of age is based on longevity or perhaps the medical advances of our time, the number seems to have hit a rising trend.

Tolland is still active in pursuing her interests. During National Nursing Home week in 2008, she was crowned Miss Presidential Oaks and has borne the title well.

Allie Ginwala

(Editor's note: This is the first piece written by Ginwala, a senior at Trinity Christian School in Concord who is serving as a newsroom intern this year.)

The Dichotomy of East and West

West Coast highlights: Beautiful architecture and landscapes, historic sites to be seen and lots of interesting and diverse people.

West Coast lowlights: The aversion to any temperature below 50 degrees, too much packing into too little a space and a possible overdose of crunchy granolas.

California holds a certain mystique for me that can be hard to explain. I've traveled there twice and enjoying myself immensly both times, yet when the time came to depart I found myself ready to head back east. Why is that? It's not that I disliked where I was staying or that I was bored. It's not that I don't like the west because there are many things that draw me into it. I think the reason I yearn for the east is because the west is, in all honesty, a bit soft. The summary, I believe, My dad put it best,

"If the west coast got in a fight with the east coast, the east would kick it's butt."

A bit harsh, maybe, but the sentiment it quite accurate. When you walk down a street in say Boston or New York, people bustle by you as they stare at the concrete below their feet. This may not be the most friendly example, but you don't see this often in CA. Now, don't get me wrong, CA is great and I love to visit, but I don't think I could stay permanently in a place where cream cheese is called 'schmear".

Now I'm back east, where I truly belong, and feeling at peace. Amoungst people who are sarsactic and synical and don't think its 'chilly' until the thermometer hits -20 degrees.

Maybe next time I hit the west coast I'll bring a little piece of the east with me, as a memento of sorts. Now all I have to do is decided whether I bring the bagal with cream cheese or the snarky man who served it to me.

A Day in the Life

Today I had the wonderful opportunity to be a shadow at the Concord Monitor. It was tiring, yes, but educational and fabulous as well. Upon arrival and to my delight I saw that my fellow shadow for the day was Emma Scudder, of whom I played soccer with long ago. That day Emma and I were placed under the care of Meg Heckman, the Community Editor. After a tour of the newsroom and the presses, we headed off to a meeting which included the other editors as well as the editor-in-chief. Here we saw what goes into laying out a week of papers. The flow of creative ideas was quite impressive and seemed so effortless to these seasoned professionals. Next, Meg took us to the Monitor online to show how the paper was using its technological part as we waited to have lunch with Feliz, the editor-in-chief. We had a lovely meal at CC Tomatoes where we discussed colleges, new ideas and all things Monitor. I was very impressed by the way Feliz was able to come up with these great ideas for the paper at a drop of a hat, but then again, you’d expect the editor-in-chief to be skilled. After lunch Emma and I perused the Neighbors section of old papers to get a feel for what we would be writing as interns soon. It was from here the action started. Trent Williams, a reporter for the Monitor took us both to the Police Station to do a few interviews. First we met with Detective Mike Cassidy, an accident reconstructionist who took us through the process of a scene investigation. This info goes towards a story Trent plans to write for later in the week following up the report of 4 pedestrian accidents this month. After the detailed play-by-play we sat and talked with Chief Deputy John Duval about all the ties between the police and the media. My first trip out into the field was definitely and exciting one. By the time we returned to the Monitor, it was the end of the day and time to leave. We said our farewells and I headed to my car. Feeling quite accomplished and slightly drained, I drove out of my day in the life of a Concord Monitor employee.

Wake up Teenage America!

As I placed my ballot in the slot the employees applauded around me, making the grin on my face, if possible, grow more prominent. Picture if you will with me this scene, as it happened last Tuesday in the Ward 7 voting building. What could possibly soil this picture of complete and utter triumph? Teenage America. I had been 18 for just over a month when my town had its city council elections. Now, I know it’s not like I was able to vote for the president or even the governor, but still, my vote would count. In the weeks leading up to my birthday, it was not the presents and attention that had me excited, but the chance to voice my opinion for the first time ever. As a dedicated follower of NPR, I ‘m very adept at staying updated about the goings-on in the world. Every day I would listen to the varying points of view, waiting for the day I could voice my own. As any normal person would do, I shared with my friends my excitement for the upcoming events. I told then of my whole game plan. How I had gone online, researched each candidate and then wrote down the names of those I liked and planned to vote for. I expected at least some measure of positive feedback, yet I was taken aback with what I received. The majority’s response is the basis for this somewhat-of-a-rant post. “Why bother voting? Your just a teenager.” I was dumbfounded by this. Why vote? Really? I felt as if I was being sucked into a segment of Weekend Update with Seth Meyers. Really guys? Why vote? Really? Why not vote! I couldn’t believe my ears. Just because we’re young doesn’t mean we don’t have a significant place in this population. And then it hit me. This is exactly what is wrong with teenage America today. All that matters it your own little world and all the other people you happen to suck into it with you. How can we live in a world where a freshly-turned legal adult receives questioning looks when discussiong the upcoming elections? If more teenagers in this country had at least an inkling of what was going on outside their tiny little heads, we would have a more positive outlook for the future leaders of the US. So what if the highest position I voted for was mayor? So what if he was the only candidate running in his category? If you get into the practice of opening your ears and eyes while you’re young it will be that much easier to do it when you’ve matured more fully. Besides the disgusting truth discovered about my generation, my first experience at the polls was a positive one. I registered, filled in my bubbles and cast my vote. The next morning I check the headlines, and to my delight, the people I had voted for won. In retrospect, I’ll see this all as a positive, yet eye-opening lesson. Learning early is good. Defying the normalcy of teenage America is better. And some sweet day when I’m a journalist writing a piece about current elections, I’ll remember my first voting experience.

Parched for New Blood

I found myself in the public library a few days ago, just browsing. It was then that I realized that female teenage America had been abducted: by vampires. Maybe this was a long time coming and I simply overlooked it, but now it seems to be bursting at the seams. The popular Twilight Series seems to have blazed a path of glory for many a vampire tale, movie and TV show. After the recommendation came from a friend, I finally decided to try out my first vampire novel. I was immediately immersed in the twisted world of vampires that Stephanie Meyers left open for me. It wasn’t the kind of book you savored, trying to make the reading process last longer so you’ll have more to enjoy. It was the kind of book that sucked you in and told you that you had to get to the end right away or else your mind would be lingering between the pages all day. Once the series was complete, I moved on to other things. Twilight is definitely a well written book that engages you in a way that is very unique, but I would not put it on the top of my list of excellent literature. Once my eyes were open to vampire-mania, it seemed like everywhere I looked a new spin on the vampire lifestyle was being thrown at me. Different views by different authors of how the vampire tale should be told. One focused on vampirism as a disease infecting populations that overtook cities, and not for the better. Another portrays vampires simply as a minority group thirsting for a voice in the world. Although all of these are interesting takes on a common myth, I wonder if the whole “vampire scene” is being a bit over done. Instead of creating yet another book, movie or TV show about vampirism, why not take up another creature of the night? Zombies, mummies, spirits and ghosts are all sitting and waiting for their time to shine, hidden in the back round of the immortal shadow of the now infamous vampire. I begin to wonder, why are these legends not as popular to the teenage population? Maybe it’s because they don’t have as much controversy orbiting their personas? Or perhaps they simply aren’t as appealing to screaming and obsessive teenage girls. Yet if the latter is the reason, I’d tend to sympathize with the ghouls and ghosts. Its not their fault they don’t look like Rob Pattinson.

Video Killed the Radio Star?

“Video killed the radio star”. A rather bold statement made into a pop culture piece by the British group the Buggles in the 1979. This happy tune sends out a deeper message about today than most people catch. When TV first hit the big time, many thought that that was the end of the world for radio stations everywhere. Although many radio programs did come to an end, some stations are still thriving today such as hometown music stations and the super power that is NPR and all the local branches they have from state to state. The changing time of TV did not eliminate radio, so why do Internet news sources have to be the death of traditional newspapers?

There is no doubt in my mind that newspapers are going to be becoming smaller and more concentrated than they are today. We live in a technological age, so of coarse new types of media will be growing in popularity. Although, I disagree with those who say newspapers are dying and by extent, so is journalism. Journalism is not bound to newspapers, but is bound to people and interest. As long as there are people, there will always be news and there will always be journalism.

If TV and radio can coexist, why can’t newspapers and news websites do the same? One of my fellow correspondents made an excellent point during our session with keynote speaker Brian Lamb, and that is that newspapers will not die, but become more organized into one main institute that goes nationwide with local pieces depending on where you live. This model is the same idea as what National Public Radio does for our country.

Its true that as aspiring journalists we’re dealing with a whole new era of media out put. This is as much of a gift as it is a challenge. We are the generation that gets to re-create and pioneer the new journalistic age.

Maybe the Buggles took it a bit too far in saying that video killed the radio star. Maybe it was more of a hit-and-run or maiming of the radio star. At best, all it did was make radio bind together and focus on one common goal: to broadcast a message out to the people. I believe that the growing popularity in web-based news will challenge newspapers in the same way. How and when will we see these results? Difficult to say. Although I think we will know for sure that we have arrived when we hear it in a song.

Ice, Ice, Monkey?

When visiting the Air and Space Museum in D.C., one would expect to see space crafts, airplane displays and planetary models right? But a monkey in a jump suit on display? Didn’t see that one coming. As we headed up the stairs to visit the top floor, one of our group members had a recollection of her eighth grade field trip here where she was told to go and see the “frozen monkey”. After hearing that tidbit, how can you not want to go looking for it? It took a surprisingly short amount of time to find him. We found the little rhesus monkey with a look of pure terror forever frozen on his otherwise endearing complexion. He was encased in a glass cube with hands and feet bound together in preparation for his voyage to space.

Once we got over our brief period of feeling very sad for the little guy, we decided to read his full story that was engraved on two plaques on the front and side of his display. What we found in those small, little squares was able to carry our discussion all the way down to the planets section.

There were two different accounts telling of the trip to space taken by this monkey. One told that, while having a successful launch, he died shortly after leaving the earth. Yet the other said he lived a happy life as an old monkey, well into his double digit years, after returning home from space.

Are we speaking of the same monkey here or were there two separate stories being represented by the same primate? Either way, this posed an intriguing endeavor into our debate skills.
If there were two entirely different monkeys, then that should have been explained properly in the forefront, preventing people such as ourselves from becoming confused by the tale of the ” frozen monkey”. But if there was only one monkey from the beginning how did he acquire two very different fates?

Who would have thought one monkey could produce so much contemplation?
I had an ephiny in the planet room ending my string of monkey-related thoughts: Maybe we read the plaques wrong?