Welcome to bullfrog season in Kansas.&nbsp;Now I’m not much of a team sports player, but frog huntin’&nbsp;when we were kids&nbsp;back in Ohio&nbsp;came terribly close to being a team sport. Half the&nbsp;fun of our frog hunts was just being there with our buddies, and the anticipation of what would go&nbsp;wrong.&nbsp;Whenever we went on any kind of foray after dark, the vehicle ended up broken&nbsp;down, stuck in the snow or mud&nbsp;or in the ditch, so the more passengers in the car to help extract us from our predicament the better. Our transportation needs were simple; four wheels, two seats and something that already smelled as badly as we would when the night was over, which&nbsp;was easily accomplished because that perfectly&nbsp;described&nbsp;the old beaters we&nbsp;alldrove.&nbsp;

Near our home in central Ohio was a farm with two ponds, one on each side of the main highway that passed our homestead. One memorable frog hunt took place at these ponds late on a hot steamy Ohio night. I’ve always questioned the landowner’s sanity for allowing us there unsupervised; I&nbsp;figure&nbsp;he hoped we’d all drown and never bother him again. Anyway, Ralph (my rabbit hunting partner) and his brother Mike, Terry and myself, all piled into Terry’s old beater of a car, intent upon harvesting a “mess” of tasty frog legs from these ponds. Terry’s ride was chosen because it easily met the above transportation criteria, plus the radio worked. We had found the best “froggin” attire to be old jeans, and worn-out sneakers, which we wore all the time&nbsp;anyway. Hip boots or waders sound good, but inevitably you’d end up horizontal in the&nbsp;pond&nbsp;before the night was done, and once waders fill with water, it’s like wearing a&nbsp;fifty-gallon&nbsp;barrel around each leg. (Yes, I know this from&nbsp;experience) There are several legal ways to harvest frogs. We chose “gigs;” small pitchfork shaped spears used on the ends of long bamboo poles. These work quite well on frogs, but in the&nbsp;dark,&nbsp;you soon learned to keep a good distance between you and the guy behind you, as an errant “gig” to the butt made the evening go by really slowly! A bright flashlight was shone at the frog’s eyes, blinding them long enough to be speared with the gig. Armed with frog gigs, flashlights and gunnysacks to hold our catch, and clad in ragged jeans and&nbsp;worn-out&nbsp;sneakers, we must have looked like characters from the movie “Huck Finn meets the Grim Reaper.”&nbsp;

The night was soon filled with the deep throbbing “harum” sounds&nbsp;of bullfrogs. As I remember, we split up to conquer the&nbsp;two ponds faster. We slogged slowly along the banks as quietly as possible, each step threatening to suck us deeper into the oozy muck that smelled like rotten eggs. (I was always suspicious that it wasn’t really the mud that smelled.) We&nbsp;stalked along, knee deep in the water, until the glistening skin or gleaming beady eyes of a frog appeared in the beam of the flashlight. The trick was to slowly lower the spear as close to the frog as possible before striking, and hold the light in his eyes to keep it “dazzled,” all the while using Jedi mind games to persuade the frog to give itself up. While this anchored the frog so we could retrieve it, it usually didn’t kill it, so we soon had bags full of squirming amphibians trying to swim away from&nbsp;the frying pan.

We got lots of frogs that night, and decided to clean them at my place on the way home. We had a big circular driveway with a security light on a tall pole in the middle. An empty hay wagon pulled under the light made the perfect butchering table, and we were soon at it. As gunnysacks were emptied, squirming frogs went everywhere and we boisterously went to work.&nbsp;We removed the legs, then skinned them much like skinning a catfish, leaving the big flipper feet attached. They fry up white, sweet and tender, and NO, they do not taste just like chicken! &nbsp;

Half the fun of a frog hunt,&nbsp;besides the obvious frog leg lunch&nbsp;is watching the legs as they fry. In the hot grease, the thick meaty pieces quiver and tremble as if they were still alive, much to the chagrin of anyone trying frog legs for the first time. I remember one particular frog leg feast attended by one&nbsp;of my buddy’s girlfriends who had never tasted frog legs&nbsp;before, and was very apprehensive about ever doing so, let alone with us. I was frying, and when she was out of the room, I found one especially big set of legs and propped them up on the edge of the&nbsp;skillet with the legs crossed, just as if they had climbed out of the skillet and were resting there. I don’t know who was madder at me,&nbsp;her&nbsp;at the sight of&nbsp;them&nbsp;or my buddy because I had done it!&nbsp;

These days I hardly ever hunt frogs anymore. Maybe because it’s not as much fun as it used to be slogging around in some farm pond after dark. Maybe it’s because no one else will go with me because they all feel the same as I do about slogging around in some farm pond after dark. Whatever the reason, I still get to enjoy an occasional mess of frog legs,&nbsp;and they still taste as sweet and tender as they did 50 years ago…&nbsp;Continue to Explore Kansas outdoors.

Steve Gilliland, Inman, can be contacted by email at stevenrgilliland@gmail.com.

<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2019/11/1574696211722.png" alt="Steve&nbsp;Gilliland" />
 <figcaption>Steve&nbsp;Gilliland</figcaption>
 </figure>Welcome to bullfrog season in Kansas.&nbsp;Now I’m not much of a team sports player, but frog huntin’&nbsp;when we were kids&nbsp;back in Ohio&nbsp;came terribly close to being a team sport. Half the&nbsp;fun of our frog hunts was just being there with our buddies, and the anticipation of what would go&nbsp;wrong.&nbsp;Whenever we went on any kind of foray after dark, the vehicle ended up broken&nbsp;down, stuck in the snow or mud&nbsp;or in the ditch, so the more passengers in the car to help extract us from our predicament the better. Our transportation needs were simple; four wheels, two seats and something that already smelled as badly as we would when the night was over, which&nbsp;was easily accomplished because that perfectly&nbsp;described&nbsp;the old beaters we&nbsp;alldrove.&nbsp;Near our home in central Ohio was a farm with two ponds, one on each side of the main highway that passed our homestead. One memorable frog hunt took place at these ponds late on a hot steamy Ohio night. I’ve always questioned the landowner’s sanity for allowing us there unsupervised; I&nbsp;figure&nbsp;he hoped we’d all drown and never bother him again. Anyway, Ralph (my rabbit hunting partner) and his brother Mike, Terry and myself, all piled into Terry’s old beater of a car, intent upon harvesting a “mess” of tasty frog legs from these ponds. Terry’s ride was chosen because it easily met the above transportation criteria, plus the radio worked. We had found the best “froggin” attire to be old jeans, and worn-out sneakers, which we wore all the time&nbsp;anyway. Hip boots or waders sound good, but inevitably you’d end up horizontal in the&nbsp;pond&nbsp;before the night was done, and once waders fill with water, it’s like wearing a&nbsp;fifty-gallon&nbsp;barrel around each leg. (Yes, I know this from&nbsp;experience) There are several legal ways to harvest frogs. We chose “gigs;” small pitchfork shaped spears used on the ends of long bamboo poles. These work quite well on frogs, but in the&nbsp;dark,&nbsp;you soon learned to keep a good distance between you and the guy behind you, as an errant “gig” to the butt made the evening go by really slowly! A bright flashlight was shone at the frog’s eyes, blinding them long enough to be speared with the gig. Armed with frog gigs, flashlights and gunnysacks to hold our catch, and clad in ragged jeans and&nbsp;worn-out&nbsp;sneakers, we must have looked like characters from the movie “Huck Finn meets the Grim Reaper.”&nbsp;The night was soon filled with the deep throbbing “harum” sounds&nbsp;of bullfrogs. As I remember, we split up to conquer the&nbsp;two ponds faster. We slogged slowly along the banks as quietly as possible, each step threatening to suck us deeper into the oozy muck that smelled like rotten eggs. (I was always suspicious that it wasn’t really the mud that smelled.) We&nbsp;stalked along, knee deep in the water, until the glistening skin or gleaming beady eyes of a frog appeared in the beam of the flashlight. The trick was to slowly lower the spear as close to the frog as possible before striking, and hold the light in his eyes to keep it “dazzled,” all the while using Jedi mind games to persuade the frog to give itself up. While this anchored the frog so we could retrieve it, it usually didn’t kill it, so we soon had bags full of squirming amphibians trying to swim away from&nbsp;the frying pan.We got lots of frogs that night, and decided to clean them at my place on the way home. We had a big circular driveway with a security light on a tall pole in the middle. An empty hay wagon pulled under the light made the perfect butchering table, and we were soon at it. As gunnysacks were emptied, squirming frogs went everywhere and we boisterously went to work.&nbsp;We removed the legs, then skinned them much like skinning a catfish, leaving the big flipper feet attached. They fry up white, sweet and tender, and NO, they do not taste just like chicken! &nbsp;Half the fun of a frog hunt,&nbsp;besides the obvious frog leg lunch&nbsp;is watching the legs as they fry. In the hot grease, the thick meaty pieces quiver and tremble as if they were still alive, much to the chagrin of anyone trying frog legs for the first time. I remember one particular frog leg feast attended by one&nbsp;of my buddy’s girlfriends who had never tasted frog legs&nbsp;before, and was very apprehensive about ever doing so, let alone with us. I was frying, and when she was out of the room, I found one especially big set of legs and propped them up on the edge of the&nbsp;skillet with the legs crossed, just as if they had climbed out of the skillet and were resting there. I don’t know who was madder at me,&nbsp;her&nbsp;at the sight of&nbsp;them&nbsp;or my buddy because I had done it!&nbsp;These days I hardly ever hunt frogs anymore. Maybe because it’s not as much fun as it used to be slogging around in some farm pond after dark. Maybe it’s because no one else will go with me because they all feel the same as I do about slogging around in some farm pond after dark. Whatever the reason, I still get to enjoy an occasional mess of frog legs,&nbsp;and they still taste as sweet and tender as they did 50 years ago…&nbsp;Continue to Explore Kansas outdoors.Steve Gilliland, Inman, can be contacted by email at stevenrgilliland@gmail.com.

Exploring Outdoors Kansas: The midnight perils of hunting frogs

I’m a dog walker and bicycle commuter, so I spend a lot of time on residential streets at less than highway speed. One result of this is that I notice and pay attention to campaign yard signs. As the vote over the proposed anti-abortion amendment approaches, that attention is paying off.

Yard signs get little respect. People say they’re meaningless, yet quickly complain if they suspect efforts to steal them. They’re too basic to share any information besides a single name or message, and so are presumed to have no persuasive impact—but if one candidate distributes signs and their opponents do not, many fear that voters will assume the cause is hopeless, which is the last thing any campaign wants.

In truth, yard signs are a classic 20th-century election tool--and like direct mailing (not yet entirely replaced by e-mailing and texting), door-knocking, or phone-banking, they still play a role. Studies have shown that an effective yard sign effort can impact the behavior of close to 2% of voters—a small amount, but one that might make a difference in a close election. And since the majority of that 2% will likely be clustered around specific residences (the signs you see in your neighborhood have a greater impact on you than those you see on the street), the placement of signs, however seemingly unimportant, may be a signal worth thinking about.

What signal that can be discerned from the yard signs around Kansas for the amendment vote? Going solely off my own limited observations here in Wichita, I can guess at a few.

Pro-amendment signs outnumber anti-amendment signs, but not overwhelmingly—less than the two-to-one Republican-Democratic ratio of campaign signs I’m used to. Also, the correlation between homes where I usually see Republican or Democratic signs and where I’m now seeing pro- or anti-amendment signs is strong, but not total (particularly on the anti-amendment side).

The pro-amendment signs are almost entirely identical—the purple and white image of a mother and child—reflecting the centralized planning, funding, and distribution networks behind the pro-amendment message. The anti-amendment yard signs are more diverse (within a mile of my home I count five different types, and I’ve seen more elsewhere), reflecting the various groups with slightly different messages which many of them prefer to emphasize.

Most striking is the clustering. I’ll see a lone home with a pro- or anti-amendment sign, and a week later they’ve been joined by those on either side, making three amendment signs all in a row. Or a pro-amendment sign goes up, and an anti-amendment sign pops up directly across the street from it, and then another pro-amendment sign appears just two doors down. And so forth.

These observations can’t compare with solid polling, of course. Still, it makes me suspect there is a good deal of discussion, argument, and recruitment taking place behind the doors of the homes where these signs are appearing—certainly more than is typical for an August election anyway.

Yard signs today, whatever their overall impact, are more reflective of personal communication than in years past. The era of operatives marching out to deliver signs in mass to the homes of party or church or club members is a thing of the past. If your neighbor has a sign supporting or opposing the amendment in their yard, the odds are that they bought it themselves, really believe in it, and might even talk about it. That can give neighbors pause, even cause them to rethink. And it is in those realizations and exchanges where close elections can be won or lost.&nbsp;

Dr. Russell Arben Fox teaches politics in Wichita.

<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2020/3/1583339056495.jpeg" alt="Dr. Russell Arben Fox teaches politics in Wichita." />
 <figcaption>Dr. Russell Arben Fox teaches politics in Wichita.</figcaption>
 </figure>I’m a dog walker and bicycle commuter, so I spend a lot of time on residential streets at less than highway speed. One result of this is that I notice and pay attention to campaign yard signs. As the vote over the proposed anti-abortion amendment approaches, that attention is paying off.Yard signs get little respect. People say they’re meaningless, yet quickly complain if they suspect efforts to steal them. They’re too basic to share any information besides a single name or message, and so are presumed to have no persuasive impact—but if one candidate distributes signs and their opponents do not, many fear that voters will assume the cause is hopeless, which is the last thing any campaign wants.<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2019/12/1575913663048.png" alt="" />
 <figcaption></figcaption>
 </figure>In truth, yard signs are a classic 20th-century election tool--and like direct mailing (not yet entirely replaced by e-mailing and texting), door-knocking, or phone-banking, they still play a role. Studies have shown that an effective yard sign effort can impact the behavior of close to 2% of voters—a small amount, but one that might make a difference in a close election. And since the majority of that 2% will likely be clustered around specific residences (the signs you see in your neighborhood have a greater impact on you than those you see on the street), the placement of signs, however seemingly unimportant, may be a signal worth thinking about.What signal that can be discerned from the yard signs around Kansas for the amendment vote? Going solely off my own limited observations here in Wichita, I can guess at a few.Pro-amendment signs outnumber anti-amendment signs, but not overwhelmingly—less than the two-to-one Republican-Democratic ratio of campaign signs I’m used to. Also, the correlation between homes where I usually see Republican or Democratic signs and where I’m now seeing pro- or anti-amendment signs is strong, but not total (particularly on the anti-amendment side).The pro-amendment signs are almost entirely identical—the purple and white image of a mother and child—reflecting the centralized planning, funding, and distribution networks behind the pro-amendment message. The anti-amendment yard signs are more diverse (within a mile of my home I count five different types, and I’ve seen more elsewhere), reflecting the various groups with slightly different messages which many of them prefer to emphasize.Most striking is the clustering. I’ll see a lone home with a pro- or anti-amendment sign, and a week later they’ve been joined by those on either side, making three amendment signs all in a row. Or a pro-amendment sign goes up, and an anti-amendment sign pops up directly across the street from it, and then another pro-amendment sign appears just two doors down. And so forth.These observations can’t compare with solid polling, of course. Still, it makes me suspect there is a good deal of discussion, argument, and recruitment taking place behind the doors of the homes where these signs are appearing—certainly more than is typical for an August election anyway.Yard signs today, whatever their overall impact, are more reflective of personal communication than in years past. The era of operatives marching out to deliver signs in mass to the homes of party or church or club members is a thing of the past. If your neighbor has a sign supporting or opposing the amendment in their yard, the odds are that they bought it themselves, really believe in it, and might even talk about it. That can give neighbors pause, even cause them to rethink. And it is in those realizations and exchanges where close elections can be won or lost.&nbsp;Dr. Russell Arben Fox teaches politics in Wichita.

INSIGHT KANSAS: Abortion amendment battle, one yard at a time

By RON WILSON Huck Boyd National Institute for Rural Development&nbsp;

“My doctor said I need glasses (so I got wineglasses…).”&nbsp;

That’s a paraphrase of a light-hearted saying posted on a sign in a winetasting room in rural Kansas, where an innovative family is producing wine and using it to create new opportunities.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;

Allen Schmidt and family are owners and founders of Resurrection Vineyard near Hays.&nbsp;&nbsp;The vineyard is located on the fifth generation family dairy farm where Schmidt grew up.&nbsp;&nbsp;He went to the University of Kansas then earned a masters degree in school psychology at Fort Hays State before joining the Army and earning a masters from the U.S. Army War College.&nbsp;

Schmidt served in the Army Medical Service Corps for 32 years, including 12 years in the Army Reserve, and retired as a colonel.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;

Schmidt left the service in 1981, returned to run the dairy, and then was recalled to the Army. He completed his active duty career as the deputy commander for readiness of the Army Reserve Medical Command, with responsibility for 27,000 soldiers in 165 locations.&nbsp;

After his second stint in the Army, Schmidt and his wife Ellen returned to Ellis County permanently. They have nine children and 21 grandchildren with more on the way. Schmidt served in the Kansas Senate and on the Kansas Board of Regents, among other organizations.&nbsp;

He now serves part-time as planned giving officer for Developmental Services of Northwest Kansas, a non-profit charity that serves persons with intellectual and developmental disabilities. For more information on that, see&nbsp;<a href="http://www.dsnwk.org/">www.dsnwk.org</a>.&nbsp;

The family dairy closed in 1995 but family members continued to live on the place while renting out the farm ground. Schmidt’s son Brett lives there with his wife Ashley and their children. Brett founded an intergenerational day care in Hays.&nbsp;

One day Brett came to Allen and told him that he would like to raise grapes and make wine on the farm. Allen wasn’t sure at first, but then he thought about how this could restore activity on the farm while preserving its rustic culture.&nbsp;

“It’s bringing the farm back to life,” Allen Schmidt said. With that in mind, and as a faith-based family, they chose the name Resurrection Vineyard. The winery opened as a commercial operation in 2017.&nbsp;

The old dairy barn has been converted to the winery. Even the previous dairy equipment is being used, in some cases. A former milk weigh jar, for example, is now used in bottling wine. The milking parlor has been converted to the bottling facility with modern bottling and labeling equipment. “Brett is the winemaker,” Allen said.&nbsp;

The bulk tank room has been converted and used for wine-tastings, which Allen and Ellen host by appointment. Resurrection Vineyard offers five dry wines – a Merlot, Cabernet Sauvignon, Chardonnay, Pinot Grigio, and Riesling – and seven sweet wines:&nbsp;&nbsp;Moscato, Risen Red, Blueberry Pinot Noir, Sweet Legacy, Misty White, Strawberry Sunrise and Apple Blast.&nbsp;

Allen Schmidt and his family are remaking the farmstead as well. Two grain bins have been ingeniously converted to housing. A new structure will incorporate another grain bin and will provide lodging, beginning with the grandkids. “That’s been my dream, having a place where the family can gather,” Schmidt said. He already conducts a grandkids camp in the summer, where the kids can get outside to play and learn on the farm.&nbsp;

Resurrection Vineyard wine is available online and through local stores. It is offered in traditional bottles and resealable plastic containers.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;

The vineyard is located in a rural area just north of Hays in Buckeye Township, which has a population of 391 people. Now, that’s rural.&nbsp;

“We came back to develop a gathering place for family, friends, and community,” Schmidt said.&nbsp;&nbsp;“We have a lot of fun.”&nbsp;

For more information, see&nbsp;<a href="http://www.resurrectionvineyard.com/">www.resurrectionvineyard.com</a>.&nbsp;

We commend Allen and Ellen Schmidt, Brett and Ashley Schmidt, and all those involved with Resurrection Vineyard for making a difference by revitalizing the farm and creating this new winery. As another saying goes: “Wine a little, laugh a lot.”&nbsp;

And there’s more.&nbsp;&nbsp;Remember the son’s intergenerational day care?&nbsp;&nbsp;We’ll learn about that next week.&nbsp;

<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2022/7/1657121458606.png" alt="Schmidt" />
 <figcaption>Schmidt</figcaption>
 </figure>By RON WILSON Huck Boyd National Institute for Rural Development&nbsp;“My doctor said I need glasses (so I got wineglasses…).”&nbsp;That’s a paraphrase of a light-hearted saying posted on a sign in a winetasting room in rural Kansas, where an innovative family is producing wine and using it to create new opportunities.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Allen Schmidt and family are owners and founders of Resurrection Vineyard near Hays.&nbsp;&nbsp;The vineyard is located on the fifth generation family dairy farm where Schmidt grew up.&nbsp;&nbsp;He went to the University of Kansas then earned a masters degree in school psychology at Fort Hays State before joining the Army and earning a masters from the U.S. Army War College.&nbsp;Schmidt served in the Army Medical Service Corps for 32 years, including 12 years in the Army Reserve, and retired as a colonel.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Schmidt left the service in 1981, returned to run the dairy, and then was recalled to the Army. He completed his active duty career as the deputy commander for readiness of the Army Reserve Medical Command, with responsibility for 27,000 soldiers in 165 locations.&nbsp;After his second stint in the Army, Schmidt and his wife Ellen returned to Ellis County permanently. They have nine children and 21 grandchildren with more on the way. Schmidt served in the Kansas Senate and on the Kansas Board of Regents, among other organizations.&nbsp;He now serves part-time as planned giving officer for Developmental Services of Northwest Kansas, a non-profit charity that serves persons with intellectual and developmental disabilities. For more information on that, see&nbsp;<a href="http://www.dsnwk.org/">www.dsnwk.org</a>.&nbsp;The family dairy closed in 1995 but family members continued to live on the place while renting out the farm ground. Schmidt’s son Brett lives there with his wife Ashley and their children. Brett founded an intergenerational day care in Hays.&nbsp;One day Brett came to Allen and told him that he would like to raise grapes and make wine on the farm. Allen wasn’t sure at first, but then he thought about how this could restore activity on the farm while preserving its rustic culture.&nbsp;“It’s bringing the farm back to life,” Allen Schmidt said. With that in mind, and as a faith-based family, they chose the name Resurrection Vineyard. The winery opened as a commercial operation in 2017.&nbsp;The old dairy barn has been converted to the winery. Even the previous dairy equipment is being used, in some cases. A former milk weigh jar, for example, is now used in bottling wine. The milking parlor has been converted to the bottling facility with modern bottling and labeling equipment. “Brett is the winemaker,” Allen said.&nbsp;The bulk tank room has been converted and used for wine-tastings, which Allen and Ellen host by appointment. Resurrection Vineyard offers five dry wines – a Merlot, Cabernet Sauvignon, Chardonnay, Pinot Grigio, and Riesling – and seven sweet wines:&nbsp;&nbsp;Moscato, Risen Red, Blueberry Pinot Noir, Sweet Legacy, Misty White, Strawberry Sunrise and Apple Blast.&nbsp;Allen Schmidt and his family are remaking the farmstead as well. Two grain bins have been ingeniously converted to housing. A new structure will incorporate another grain bin and will provide lodging, beginning with the grandkids. “That’s been my dream, having a place where the family can gather,” Schmidt said. He already conducts a grandkids camp in the summer, where the kids can get outside to play and learn on the farm.&nbsp;Resurrection Vineyard wine is available online and through local stores. It is offered in traditional bottles and resealable plastic containers.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The vineyard is located in a rural area just north of Hays in Buckeye Township, which has a population of 391 people. Now, that’s rural.&nbsp;“We came back to develop a gathering place for family, friends, and community,” Schmidt said.&nbsp;&nbsp;“We have a lot of fun.”&nbsp;For more information, see&nbsp;<a href="http://www.resurrectionvineyard.com/">www.resurrectionvineyard.com</a>.&nbsp;We commend Allen and Ellen Schmidt, Brett and Ashley Schmidt, and all those involved with Resurrection Vineyard for making a difference by revitalizing the farm and creating this new winery. As another saying goes: “Wine a little, laugh a lot.”&nbsp;And there’s more.&nbsp;&nbsp;Remember the son’s intergenerational day care?&nbsp;&nbsp;We’ll learn about that next week.&nbsp;

Now That’s Rural: Allen Schmidt, Resurrection Vineyard 

By ERIC THOMAS <a href="https://kansasreflector.com/2022/07/08/midwest-college-grudge-matches-vanish-during-conference-realignment/">Courtesy Kansas Reflector</a>

My wife’s stepdad, Mike, was 
notoriously slow to soften. This was especially true if you were me, the
 bouncy, naive kid dating his stepdaughter.

One particular interaction between us
 lives in family lore. I came to visit Kansas City as a mop-haired 
photojournalism freshman at the University of Missouri. However, a baby 
shower swamped the house with diapers, pink baby toys and cooing aunts. I
 retreated to the safety of Mike’s workshop. The menagerie of power 
tools, wood glue and sawdust lured me.

With some mid-1990s “hey dude” enthusiasm, I asked Mike, “What are you working on?”

Bunkered behind his bench, his hand 
tightening a vise on a piece of wood that he was filing, Mike looked up.
 Over the top of his oversized glasses perched at the tip of his nose, 
he said, “Why don’t you go back inside?”

I got the message. For years, I 
tiptoed around him, until we established a tender and public truce 
during the weekend I married Polly. Still, I worried about bringing him 
big news, even after decades of being family.

Eight years ago, I had some news for him.

My wife’s family adores the 
University of Missouri and its sports teams. Black-and-gold diplomas 
decorate offices of so many family members. We have rearranged birthday 
parties to avoid distracting from Tiger basketball games. Cousins, 
uncles and parents tailgated in bitter cold and absurd heat in Columbia.
 My wife and I had season tickets for Mizzou basketball while we lived 
in Kansas City, zombie-driving west on Interstate 70 at midnight from 
Wednesday night home games against Texas to make it to work the next 
day.

Yet, eight years ago, I accepted <a target="_blank" href="https://journalism.ku.edu/people/eric-thomas">a job at the University of Kansas</a>. I was going to be a Jayhawk. I was, impossibly, trading black and gold for crimson and blue.

When I told Mike about the new job in Lawrence, he lounged on the couch in his favorite Missouri polo. He didn’t blink.&nbsp;

“When are you leaving the family?” he said.&nbsp;

This kind of rivalry — with this hellbent allegiance — is the fuel of college sports. Or, it was.

This week’s announcement that <a target="_blank" href="https://www.cnn.com/2022/06/30/sport/usc-ucla-big-ten-spt/index.html">USC and UCLA would join the Big 10 conference</a> in 2024 was Step #247 in the 458-step plan to disassemble college sports and its quirky yet searing regional rivalries.

That news was preceded by step #246, <a target="_blank" href="https://bleacherreport.com/articles/10038310-report-cincinnati-houston-ucf-and-byu-to-join-big-12-in-summer-of-2023">which was the recruitment</a>
 of Brigham Young University, the University of Houston, the University 
of Central Florida and University of Cincinnati to the Big 12 to join 
KU, Kansas State and others. <a target="_blank" href="https://www.espn.com/college-football/story/_/id/31920686/texas-longhorns-oklahoma-sooners-unanimously-accept-invitation-sec">Texas and Oklahoma had signaled their exits</a> from the Big 12 last summer. Only six of the original Big 12 will remain in a conference stretching from Florida to Utah.

Fans who have clustered for decades 
around the Jayhawks, Tigers and Wildcats have experienced the 
disintegration earlier and more completely than any others.

Before I go further, I admit this: I forever begrudge my two-time alma mater, the University of Missouri, and <a target="_blank" href="https://www.espn.com.au/college-sports/story/_/id/7199062/missouri-tigers-move-sec-official-big-12-hurdles-remain">its choice to leave the Big 12 in 2012</a>. That early yet deliberate domino nudge invited the chaos and perpetual realignment we are living through.

MU and Texas A&amp;M leaving the Big 
12 (plus Colorado and Nebraska leaving for other conferences) provided a
 roadmap to others. Meet secretly. Leak the possible move to the press. 
Sprinkle in some dubious talk about academic benefits for the 
student-athletes. Ignore that the conference names make no sense (the 
Big 10 has 14 teams and two affiliates?). Collect the oversized check at
 the end.

It seemed simple. The SEC 
conference’s media deals ballooned, and many fans quickly accepted the 
additional schools as the new status quo.

However, I hungered for the “old Big 
12.” The regionally compact version of the conference offered up weekly 
games that mattered because you knew the opponent school, their colors 
and their history.

There was familiarity. At your 
office, three people in neighboring cubicles wore K-State shirts. A few 
years ago, you visited Ames on a road trip. You and your uncle had a 
standing bet anytime you played Nebraska. There was weekly, if not 
daily, significance to games against schools in neighboring states.

The evidence of how much these games 
mattered could be heard on talk radio and seen on the “House Divided” 
license plates. I have a video, taken with my cellphone, from the seats 
at the 2012 Big 12 men’s basketball championship in Kansas City. 
Celebrating my Tigers winning the tournament, you can hear my voice 
breaking — in a way that I reserved for the birth of my children and 
family funerals. That win mattered.

In winning the tournament, the Tigers beat Oklahoma State, Texas and Baylor.

The Tigers’ rivalries now? My 
enthusiasm for a Missouri vs. South Carolina game is zilch. I don’t know
 a single person I can pester or bet or avoid after a game against the 
Gamecocks, Commodores, Bulldogs or … well, I don’t even know all the SEC
 mascots, to be honest.

During football seasons, my 
brother-in-law, a fervent Mizzou fan, still props his cellphone up on 
restaurant dinner tables to watch games. However, the games that 
“matter” are between Texas A&amp;M and Alabama or Michigan and Nebraska.
 These blue-blood football teams would have seldom played one another 
before the scrambling of conferences.

As Josh Levin pointed out during this week’s <a target="_blank" href="https://slate.com/podcasts/hang-up-and-listen/2022/07/kevin-durant-and-kyrie-irving-ucla-and-usc-and-nick-kyrgios-and-stefanos-tsitsipas-on-hang-up-and-listen">“Hang Up and Listen” podcast</a>,
 sports fans are becoming more impatient for anything that isn’t a 
“showcase” game with one historic program playing another. (I would note
 here that traveling youth sports is rapidly reorganizing itself in the 
same way to create marquee matchups … <a target="_blank" href="https://www.usyouthsoccer.org/introducing-usys-national-league-elite-64/">between “elite” 12-year-olds</a>.)&nbsp;

Jayhawks, Wildcats and Tigers: How do
 we, fans of some of the earliest disbanded and realigned conferences, 
feel a decade later? I have yet to find a local college sports fan who 
is free of nostalgia for the era of playing nearby rival schools, rather
 than super leagues crisscrossing the country for potential games of the
 century each week.

Living in Kansas and Missouri, we had a preview. We resent realignment, and yet it rolls forward and becomes even larger.

If there is a silver lining, it is 
this: Realignment is surely not done. With conferences stretching from 
coast to coast and powerhouse conferences still containing weak schools (<a target="_blank" href="https://www.secsports.com/standings/football">hi, Vanderbilt</a>), the dominoes are still falling 11 years later.

Let’s hope when the university 
presidents, football coaches and athletic directors complete their 
master plan, regional rivalries return. After all, those grudge matches 
define college sports.

Eric Thomas directs the Kansas Scholastic Press Association, a nonprofit that supports student journalism throughout the state. He also teaches visual journalism and photojournalism at the William Allen White School of Journalism and Mass Communication at the University of Kansas in Lawrence.&nbsp;

By ERIC THOMAS <a href="https://kansasreflector.com/2022/07/08/midwest-college-grudge-matches-vanish-during-conference-realignment/">Courtesy Kansas Reflector</a>My wife’s stepdad, Mike, was 
notoriously slow to soften. This was especially true if you were me, the
 bouncy, naive kid dating his stepdaughter.One particular interaction between us
 lives in family lore. I came to visit Kansas City as a mop-haired 
photojournalism freshman at the University of Missouri. However, a baby 
shower swamped the house with diapers, pink baby toys and cooing aunts. I
 retreated to the safety of Mike’s workshop. The menagerie of power 
tools, wood glue and sawdust lured me.With some mid-1990s “hey dude” enthusiasm, I asked Mike, “What are you working on?”Bunkered behind his bench, his hand 
tightening a vise on a piece of wood that he was filing, Mike looked up.
 Over the top of his oversized glasses perched at the tip of his nose, 
he said, “Why don’t you go back inside?”I got the message. For years, I 
tiptoed around him, until we established a tender and public truce 
during the weekend I married Polly. Still, I worried about bringing him 
big news, even after decades of being family.Eight years ago, I had some news for him.<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2019/12/1575913663048.png" alt="" />
 <figcaption></figcaption>
 </figure>My wife’s family adores the 
University of Missouri and its sports teams. Black-and-gold diplomas 
decorate offices of so many family members. We have rearranged birthday 
parties to avoid distracting from Tiger basketball games. Cousins, 
uncles and parents tailgated in bitter cold and absurd heat in Columbia.
 My wife and I had season tickets for Mizzou basketball while we lived 
in Kansas City, zombie-driving west on Interstate 70 at midnight from 
Wednesday night home games against Texas to make it to work the next 
day.Yet, eight years ago, I accepted <a target="_blank" href="https://journalism.ku.edu/people/eric-thomas">a job at the University of Kansas</a>. I was going to be a Jayhawk. I was, impossibly, trading black and gold for crimson and blue.When I told Mike about the new job in Lawrence, he lounged on the couch in his favorite Missouri polo. He didn’t blink.&nbsp;“When are you leaving the family?” he said.&nbsp;I laughed, but he didn’t.This kind of rivalry — with this hellbent allegiance — is the fuel of college sports. Or, it was.This week’s announcement that <a target="_blank" href="https://www.cnn.com/2022/06/30/sport/usc-ucla-big-ten-spt/index.html">USC and UCLA would join the Big 10 conference</a> in 2024 was Step #247 in the 458-step plan to disassemble college sports and its quirky yet searing regional rivalries.That news was preceded by step #246, <a target="_blank" href="https://bleacherreport.com/articles/10038310-report-cincinnati-houston-ucf-and-byu-to-join-big-12-in-summer-of-2023">which was the recruitment</a>
 of Brigham Young University, the University of Houston, the University 
of Central Florida and University of Cincinnati to the Big 12 to join 
KU, Kansas State and others. <a target="_blank" href="https://www.espn.com/college-football/story/_/id/31920686/texas-longhorns-oklahoma-sooners-unanimously-accept-invitation-sec">Texas and Oklahoma had signaled their exits</a> from the Big 12 last summer. Only six of the original Big 12 will remain in a conference stretching from Florida to Utah.Fans who have clustered for decades 
around the Jayhawks, Tigers and Wildcats have experienced the 
disintegration earlier and more completely than any others.Before I go further, I admit this: I forever begrudge my two-time alma mater, the University of Missouri, and <a target="_blank" href="https://www.espn.com.au/college-sports/story/_/id/7199062/missouri-tigers-move-sec-official-big-12-hurdles-remain">its choice to leave the Big 12 in 2012</a>. That early yet deliberate domino nudge invited the chaos and perpetual realignment we are living through.MU and Texas A&amp;M leaving the Big 
12 (plus Colorado and Nebraska leaving for other conferences) provided a
 roadmap to others. Meet secretly. Leak the possible move to the press. 
Sprinkle in some dubious talk about academic benefits for the 
student-athletes. Ignore that the conference names make no sense (the 
Big 10 has 14 teams and two affiliates?). Collect the oversized check at
 the end.It seemed simple. The SEC 
conference’s media deals ballooned, and many fans quickly accepted the 
additional schools as the new status quo.However, I hungered for the “old Big 
12.” The regionally compact version of the conference offered up weekly 
games that mattered because you knew the opponent school, their colors 
and their history.There was familiarity. At your 
office, three people in neighboring cubicles wore K-State shirts. A few 
years ago, you visited Ames on a road trip. You and your uncle had a 
standing bet anytime you played Nebraska. There was weekly, if not 
daily, significance to games against schools in neighboring states.The evidence of how much these games 
mattered could be heard on talk radio and seen on the “House Divided” 
license plates. I have a video, taken with my cellphone, from the seats 
at the 2012 Big 12 men’s basketball championship in Kansas City. 
Celebrating my Tigers winning the tournament, you can hear my voice 
breaking — in a way that I reserved for the birth of my children and 
family funerals. That win mattered.In winning the tournament, the Tigers beat Oklahoma State, Texas and Baylor.The Tigers’ rivalries now? My 
enthusiasm for a Missouri vs. South Carolina game is zilch. I don’t know
 a single person I can pester or bet or avoid after a game against the 
Gamecocks, Commodores, Bulldogs or … well, I don’t even know all the SEC
 mascots, to be honest.During football seasons, my 
brother-in-law, a fervent Mizzou fan, still props his cellphone up on 
restaurant dinner tables to watch games. However, the games that 
“matter” are between Texas A&amp;M and Alabama or Michigan and Nebraska.
 These blue-blood football teams would have seldom played one another 
before the scrambling of conferences.As Josh Levin pointed out during this week’s <a target="_blank" href="https://slate.com/podcasts/hang-up-and-listen/2022/07/kevin-durant-and-kyrie-irving-ucla-and-usc-and-nick-kyrgios-and-stefanos-tsitsipas-on-hang-up-and-listen">“Hang Up and Listen” podcast</a>,
 sports fans are becoming more impatient for anything that isn’t a 
“showcase” game with one historic program playing another. (I would note
 here that traveling youth sports is rapidly reorganizing itself in the 
same way to create marquee matchups … <a target="_blank" href="https://www.usyouthsoccer.org/introducing-usys-national-league-elite-64/">between “elite” 12-year-olds</a>.)&nbsp;Jayhawks, Wildcats and Tigers: How do
 we, fans of some of the earliest disbanded and realigned conferences, 
feel a decade later? I have yet to find a local college sports fan who 
is free of nostalgia for the era of playing nearby rival schools, rather
 than super leagues crisscrossing the country for potential games of the
 century each week.Living in Kansas and Missouri, we had a preview. We resent realignment, and yet it rolls forward and becomes even larger.If there is a silver lining, it is 
this: Realignment is surely not done. With conferences stretching from 
coast to coast and powerhouse conferences still containing weak schools (<a target="_blank" href="https://www.secsports.com/standings/football">hi, Vanderbilt</a>), the dominoes are still falling 11 years later.Let’s hope when the university 
presidents, football coaches and athletic directors complete their 
master plan, regional rivalries return. After all, those grudge matches 
define college sports.Eric Thomas directs the Kansas Scholastic Press Association, a nonprofit that supports student journalism throughout the state. He also teaches visual journalism and photojournalism at the William Allen White School of Journalism and Mass Communication at the University of Kansas in Lawrence.&nbsp;

OPINION: Midwest college grudge matches vanish during realignment

By GREG DOERING Kansas Farm Bureau

The biggest strength of Kansas Farm Bureau (KFB) is its grassroots policy process that undergoes at least a year of debate before it’s enshrined in the organization’s policy book. This manual serves a blueprint for the advocacy work of state staff in the Kansas Legislature. In 2022, this member-driven process was crucial to improving farming, ranching and rural living during the legislative session. The success Kansas Farm Bureau had during the last legislative session will affect everyone in agriculture or living in a rural community in some fashion. Some of the wins are unlikely to be undone anytime soon and others could prove to be more fleeting without continued engagement. As of July 1, several of these polices are now laws codified in Kansas statutes. That’s proof that a group of dedicated people working toward a common goal can make the ultimate influence on the political process. Turning policy into action is not an easy endeavor, so it’s worth acknowledging when it does happen. Here are a handful of examples of how Farm Bureau members of Kansas and other likeminded organizations had an impact in Topeka: Fencing Tax Exemption:&nbsp;KFB successfully testified in support of a law the exempts fencing supplies and services from sales tax to repair fencing damaged or destroyed by natural disasters including wildfires. Those exemptions are permanent for all farmers and ranchers. Based on calculations from the Kansas Division of Budget and the Kansas State University Land Use Survey Center, this sales tax elimination will save farmers and ranchers approximately $865 for each mile of fence, a number that will grow alongside the cost of materials and labor. Funding for Rural Housing:&nbsp;Kansas Farm Bureau was one of nearly two dozen organizations that successfully lobbied for an investment in rural housing of more than $100 million. The money will come from the state’s extraordinary budget surplus and unspent federal COVID-19 relief funding. Included in the spending package is $40 million to spur moderate-income housing programs. An additional $20 million is dedicated specifically to rural housing. Expansion of Rural Veterinary Program: KFB supported legislation that will expand the Veterinary Training Program for Rural Kansas, addressing a shortage of veterinarians across the state. The legislation will allow more flexibility in where Kansas State University graduates can establish a practice and receive up to $25,000 per year in student loan forgiveness. The law also adds flexibility to increase the number of recipients beyond the maximum of five if funding is available. Pasture Tax Fix:&nbsp;KFB successfully supported a policy change in how pastureland enrolled in the federal Conservation Reserve Program (CRP) Grasslands are classified for Kansas property tax purposes. Without this fix, land that has always been in pasture and then enrolled in the CRP was in danger of being classified as higher-value dryland farm ground for property tax purposes. Water Issues:&nbsp;Kansas Farm Bureau staff testified against proposed legislation that would have consolidated the state’s water regulatory agencies because it would have increased government bureaucracy and consolidated enormous power under the control of a single political appointee, in addition to other measures that go against KFB’s policy. While the proposal was ultimately unsuccessful, it has prompted a review of KFB policy on water issues with regional meetings scheduled around the state, including July 6 in Hutchinson, July 7 in Dodge City, July 12 in Hoxie and July 14 in Burlington. For more on the meetings or to register visit&nbsp;<a href="https://kfb.us11.list-manage.com/track/click?u=45bba928f411d21617c5eadbe&amp;id=03ee9ca492&amp;e=5bf0f0e5fe">www.kfb.org</a>. As the final issue illustrates, effectively implementing policy is a job that never ends. It requires continued discussion and refinement, and the ability to react quickly when there’s an opening. Kansas Farm Bureau will continue seeking feedback, forging alliances and pushing politicians to create rules and regulations allowing agriculture to flourish in Kansas and beyond.

"Insight" is a weekly column published by Kansas Farm Bureau, the state's largest farm organization whose mission is to strengthen agriculture and the lives of Kansans through advocacy, education and service.&nbsp;

<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2019/11/1574694551876.png" alt="Greg Doering&nbsp;" />
 <figcaption>Greg Doering&nbsp;</figcaption>
 </figure>By GREG DOERING Kansas Farm BureauThe biggest strength of Kansas Farm Bureau (KFB) is its grassroots policy process that undergoes at least a year of debate before it’s enshrined in the organization’s policy book. This manual serves a blueprint for the advocacy work of state staff in the Kansas Legislature. In 2022, this member-driven process was crucial to improving farming, ranching and rural living during the legislative session. The success Kansas Farm Bureau had during the last legislative session will affect everyone in agriculture or living in a rural community in some fashion. Some of the wins are unlikely to be undone anytime soon and others could prove to be more fleeting without continued engagement. As of July 1, several of these polices are now laws codified in Kansas statutes. That’s proof that a group of dedicated people working toward a common goal can make the ultimate influence on the political process. Turning policy into action is not an easy endeavor, so it’s worth acknowledging when it does happen. Here are a handful of examples of how Farm Bureau members of Kansas and other likeminded organizations had an impact in Topeka: Fencing Tax Exemption:&nbsp;KFB successfully testified in support of a law the exempts fencing supplies and services from sales tax to repair fencing damaged or destroyed by natural disasters including wildfires. Those exemptions are permanent for all farmers and ranchers. Based on calculations from the Kansas Division of Budget and the Kansas State University Land Use Survey Center, this sales tax elimination will save farmers and ranchers approximately $865 for each mile of fence, a number that will grow alongside the cost of materials and labor. Funding for Rural Housing:&nbsp;Kansas Farm Bureau was one of nearly two dozen organizations that successfully lobbied for an investment in rural housing of more than $100 million. The money will come from the state’s extraordinary budget surplus and unspent federal COVID-19 relief funding. Included in the spending package is $40 million to spur moderate-income housing programs. An additional $20 million is dedicated specifically to rural housing. Expansion of Rural Veterinary Program: KFB supported legislation that will expand the Veterinary Training Program for Rural Kansas, addressing a shortage of veterinarians across the state. The legislation will allow more flexibility in where Kansas State University graduates can establish a practice and receive up to $25,000 per year in student loan forgiveness. The law also adds flexibility to increase the number of recipients beyond the maximum of five if funding is available. Pasture Tax Fix:&nbsp;KFB successfully supported a policy change in how pastureland enrolled in the federal Conservation Reserve Program (CRP) Grasslands are classified for Kansas property tax purposes. Without this fix, land that has always been in pasture and then enrolled in the CRP was in danger of being classified as higher-value dryland farm ground for property tax purposes. Water Issues:&nbsp;Kansas Farm Bureau staff testified against proposed legislation that would have consolidated the state’s water regulatory agencies because it would have increased government bureaucracy and consolidated enormous power under the control of a single political appointee, in addition to other measures that go against KFB’s policy. While the proposal was ultimately unsuccessful, it has prompted a review of KFB policy on water issues with regional meetings scheduled around the state, including July 6 in Hutchinson, July 7 in Dodge City, July 12 in Hoxie and July 14 in Burlington. For more on the meetings or to register visit&nbsp;<a href="https://kfb.us11.list-manage.com/track/click?u=45bba928f411d21617c5eadbe&amp;id=03ee9ca492&amp;e=5bf0f0e5fe">www.kfb.org</a>. As the final issue illustrates, effectively implementing policy is a job that never ends. It requires continued discussion and refinement, and the ability to react quickly when there’s an opening. Kansas Farm Bureau will continue seeking feedback, forging alliances and pushing politicians to create rules and regulations allowing agriculture to flourish in Kansas and beyond."Insight" is a weekly column published by Kansas Farm Bureau, the state's largest farm organization whose mission is to strengthen agriculture and the lives of Kansans through advocacy, education and service.&nbsp;

Kansas Farm Bureau Insight: Putting policy into action

By CLAY WIRESTONE <a href="https://kansasreflector.com/2022/07/07/kansas-senators-bullying-of-county-health-officials-is-the-height-of-self-regarding-delusion/">Kansas Reflector</a>

Kansas Sen. Mark Steffen acts as 
though he’s the hero in his own story. In reality, he’s a single state 
legislator drunk on imagined power.

The Hutchinson anesthesiologist’s <a target="_blank" href="https://kansasreflector.com/2022/04/08/mark-steffens-grotesque-buffoonery-has-put-kansans-in-danger-as-new-covid-19-wave-approaches/">high-on-his-own-supply tendencies</a> have been apparent for a while now, but his latest posturing deserves special note. He decided to <a target="_blank" href="https://kansasreflector.com/2022/07/06/kansas-senator-seeks-dismissal-of-county-health-officers-over-covid-19-vaccines-for-children/">send a letter</a> to the Reno County health department, declaring that its work <a target="_blank" href="https://www.cdc.gov/media/releases/2022/s0618-children-vaccine.html">vaccinating young children</a> against COVID-19 was a threat.

“While I take no pleasure in sending 
this letter, the citizens of Reno County can no longer endure a health 
department that blindly and thoughtlessly follows the politicized CDC 
and FDA,” Steffen wrote in the email calling for county commissioners to
 fire <a target="_blank" href="https://www.renogov.org/239/Health-Department">their own health officials</a>. “Your failure to reason the way through the virus response has led to needless suffering and even death.”

“I strongly encourage you to leave immediately on your own terms as soon as possible,” he added.

Steffen is a Republican state senator <a target="_blank" href="https://kansasreflector.com/2022/01/26/kansas-senator-under-investigation-after-prescribing-ivermectin-for-covid-19-seeks-legal-cover/">who was investigated</a>
 by the Kansas Board of Healing Arts for prescribing ineffective, 
potentially harmful remedies during the worst pandemic of the past 
century. He previously <a target="_blank" href="https://kansasreflector.com/2022/04/05/kansas-senator-warns-doctors-of-consequences-for-failure-to-treat-covid-19-with-ivermectin/">used Senate letterhead to threaten</a> hundreds of health care providers across the state for not using&nbsp;<a target="_blank" href="https://www.fda.gov/consumers/consumer-updates/why-you-should-not-use-ivermectin-treat-or-prevent-covid-19">ivermectin</a>.
 He is most certainly not a public health official, nor does he have the
 temperament or intellect to order around anyone other than a pet 
ferret. And that ferret is currently wondering if it can find a more 
responsible owner among the state’s grade schoolers.

Steffen has damaged the state, 
Legislature and his constituents. His bullying has left fear and 
bewilderment in its wake, for no good reason.

The man deserves to be <a target="_blank" href="https://kansasreflector.com/2021/03/01/dear-kansas-board-of-healing-arts-this-doctor-senator-is-a-threat-to-public-health/">stripped of his license</a>
 to practice medicine, removed from his elected office and employed in a
 position better suited to his apparent skill set: selling dubious 
warranties for electronics in a big-box store. At least a two-year 
repair plan for the latest video game console won’t infect you with a 
novel virus.

The only person in this situation whose behavior may have led to “needless suffering and death” is Steffen himself. <a target="_blank" href="https://lawrencekstimes.com/2021/09/28/wirestone-anti-vax-show/">Spreading doubt</a> about vaccines and effective treatments for COVID-19 has likely cost lives and encouraged the spread of infection.

While many may behave as though the pandemic has ended, too many in our state walk around unprotected. <a target="_blank" href="http://kansasvaccine.gov/158/Data">Only 55.4%</a>
 of Kansans have received both of their initial vaccinations against the
 virus, according to the Kansas Department of Health and Environment. 
Less than a million state residents have received a booster shot. Those 
boosters play a <a target="_blank" href="https://www.cdc.gov/coronavirus/2019-ncov/vaccines/booster-shot.html">critical role</a> in protecting against severe illness and death as more variants circulate.

Consider what would have happened if Steffen took a different path.

Consider what would have happened if 
he promoted vaccines and science-based treatments. In central Kansas, he
 could have been a leader in softening the blow of the pandemic. He 
could have saved lives. He could have been a profile in courage during 
the darkest days of 2020 and 2021. He could have joined the <a target="_blank" href="https://kansasreflector.com/2021/09/03/rep-howe-navigates-personal-journey-from-hesitancy-to-acceptance-of-covid-19-vaccine/">honorable example of Salina Rep. Steven Howe</a>, who publicly advocated for vaccination and shared his path away from skepticism.

Steffen made a different choice. He embraced conspiracy theories and political expediency.

July of 2022 is not July of 2021 or 2020. The <a target="_blank" href="https://www.cdc.gov/coronavirus/2019-ncov/vaccines/index.html">vaccines against COVID-19</a> have proven themselves safe and effective. Roughly <a target="_blank" href="https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2020/us/covid-19-vaccine-doses.html">260 million</a>
 people in the United States have been vaccinated, and they haven’t 
mutated into werewolves or become magnetic or received radio broadcasts 
inside their heads from the Illuminati. They have been protected against
 a virus.

We also can employ effective treatments now, such as the <a target="_blank" href="https://www.yalemedicine.org/news/13-things-to-know-paxlovid-covid-19">antiviral Paxlovid</a>. Doctors know more about the disease and don’t have to grapple in the dark to understand what’s happening. We <a target="_blank" href="https://kansasreflector.com/2022/05/12/with-covid-19-an-unwanted-houseguest-i-gave-thanks-for-vaccines-and-grew-frustrated-with-society/">don’t have to panic</a>. We can keep ourselves and our families safe.

We can give up the horse paste and laying on of hands.

We can give up bullying and anti-science tirades.

Clay Wirestone has written columns and edited reporting for newsrooms in Kansas, New Hampshire, Florida and Pennsylvania. He has also fact checked politicians, researched for Larry the Cable Guy, and appeared in PolitiFact, Mental Floss, cnn.com and a host of other publications.

<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2022/7/1657218763683.png" alt="Sen. Mark Steffen, R-Hutchinson, sent a letter encouraging Reno County commissioners to fire health department officials He spoke last year at the Freedom Revival in the Heartland at City Center Church in Lenexa. (Tim Carpenter/Kansas Reflector)" />
 <figcaption>Sen. Mark Steffen, R-Hutchinson, sent a letter encouraging Reno County commissioners to fire health department officials He spoke last year at the Freedom Revival in the Heartland at City Center Church in Lenexa. (Tim Carpenter/Kansas Reflector)</figcaption>
 </figure>By CLAY WIRESTONE <a href="https://kansasreflector.com/2022/07/07/kansas-senators-bullying-of-county-health-officials-is-the-height-of-self-regarding-delusion/">Kansas Reflector</a>Kansas Sen. Mark Steffen acts as 
though he’s the hero in his own story. In reality, he’s a single state 
legislator drunk on imagined power.The Hutchinson anesthesiologist’s <a target="_blank" href="https://kansasreflector.com/2022/04/08/mark-steffens-grotesque-buffoonery-has-put-kansans-in-danger-as-new-covid-19-wave-approaches/">high-on-his-own-supply tendencies</a> have been apparent for a while now, but his latest posturing deserves special note. He decided to <a target="_blank" href="https://kansasreflector.com/2022/07/06/kansas-senator-seeks-dismissal-of-county-health-officers-over-covid-19-vaccines-for-children/">send a letter</a> to the Reno County health department, declaring that its work <a target="_blank" href="https://www.cdc.gov/media/releases/2022/s0618-children-vaccine.html">vaccinating young children</a> against COVID-19 was a threat.“While I take no pleasure in sending 
this letter, the citizens of Reno County can no longer endure a health 
department that blindly and thoughtlessly follows the politicized CDC 
and FDA,” Steffen wrote in the email calling for county commissioners to
 fire <a target="_blank" href="https://www.renogov.org/239/Health-Department">their own health officials</a>. “Your failure to reason the way through the virus response has led to needless suffering and even death.”“I strongly encourage you to leave immediately on your own terms as soon as possible,” he added.Who does this man think he is?<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2019/12/1575913663048.png" alt="" />
 <figcaption></figcaption>
 </figure>Steffen is a Republican state senator <a target="_blank" href="https://kansasreflector.com/2022/01/26/kansas-senator-under-investigation-after-prescribing-ivermectin-for-covid-19-seeks-legal-cover/">who was investigated</a>
 by the Kansas Board of Healing Arts for prescribing ineffective, 
potentially harmful remedies during the worst pandemic of the past 
century. He previously <a target="_blank" href="https://kansasreflector.com/2022/04/05/kansas-senator-warns-doctors-of-consequences-for-failure-to-treat-covid-19-with-ivermectin/">used Senate letterhead to threaten</a> hundreds of health care providers across the state for not using&nbsp;<a target="_blank" href="https://www.fda.gov/consumers/consumer-updates/why-you-should-not-use-ivermectin-treat-or-prevent-covid-19">ivermectin</a>.
 He is most certainly not a public health official, nor does he have the
 temperament or intellect to order around anyone other than a pet 
ferret. And that ferret is currently wondering if it can find a more 
responsible owner among the state’s grade schoolers.Steffen has damaged the state, 
Legislature and his constituents. His bullying has left fear and 
bewilderment in its wake, for no good reason.The man deserves to be <a target="_blank" href="https://kansasreflector.com/2021/03/01/dear-kansas-board-of-healing-arts-this-doctor-senator-is-a-threat-to-public-health/">stripped of his license</a>
 to practice medicine, removed from his elected office and employed in a
 position better suited to his apparent skill set: selling dubious 
warranties for electronics in a big-box store. At least a two-year 
repair plan for the latest video game console won’t infect you with a 
novel virus.The only person in this situation whose behavior may have led to “needless suffering and death” is Steffen himself. <a target="_blank" href="https://lawrencekstimes.com/2021/09/28/wirestone-anti-vax-show/">Spreading doubt</a> about vaccines and effective treatments for COVID-19 has likely cost lives and encouraged the spread of infection.While many may behave as though the pandemic has ended, too many in our state walk around unprotected. <a target="_blank" href="http://kansasvaccine.gov/158/Data">Only 55.4%</a>
 of Kansans have received both of their initial vaccinations against the
 virus, according to the Kansas Department of Health and Environment. 
Less than a million state residents have received a booster shot. Those 
boosters play a <a target="_blank" href="https://www.cdc.gov/coronavirus/2019-ncov/vaccines/booster-shot.html">critical role</a> in protecting against severe illness and death as more variants circulate.Consider what would have happened if Steffen took a different path.Consider what would have happened if 
he promoted vaccines and science-based treatments. In central Kansas, he
 could have been a leader in softening the blow of the pandemic. He 
could have saved lives. He could have been a profile in courage during 
the darkest days of 2020 and 2021. He could have joined the <a target="_blank" href="https://kansasreflector.com/2021/09/03/rep-howe-navigates-personal-journey-from-hesitancy-to-acceptance-of-covid-19-vaccine/">honorable example of Salina Rep. Steven Howe</a>, who publicly advocated for vaccination and shared his path away from skepticism.Steffen made a different choice. He embraced conspiracy theories and political expediency.July of 2022 is not July of 2021 or 2020. The <a target="_blank" href="https://www.cdc.gov/coronavirus/2019-ncov/vaccines/index.html">vaccines against COVID-19</a> have proven themselves safe and effective. Roughly <a target="_blank" href="https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2020/us/covid-19-vaccine-doses.html">260 million</a>
 people in the United States have been vaccinated, and they haven’t 
mutated into werewolves or become magnetic or received radio broadcasts 
inside their heads from the Illuminati. They have been protected against
 a virus.We also can employ effective treatments now, such as the <a target="_blank" href="https://www.yalemedicine.org/news/13-things-to-know-paxlovid-covid-19">antiviral Paxlovid</a>. Doctors know more about the disease and don’t have to grapple in the dark to understand what’s happening. We <a target="_blank" href="https://kansasreflector.com/2022/05/12/with-covid-19-an-unwanted-houseguest-i-gave-thanks-for-vaccines-and-grew-frustrated-with-society/">don’t have to panic</a>. We can keep ourselves and our families safe.We can give up the horse paste and laying on of hands.We can give up bullying and anti-science tirades.But can Mark Steffen?<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2022/2/1645737832786.jpeg" alt="Clay Wirestone" />
 <figcaption>Clay Wirestone</figcaption>
 </figure>Clay Wirestone has written columns and edited reporting for newsrooms in Kansas, New Hampshire, Florida and Pennsylvania. He has also fact checked politicians, researched for Larry the Cable Guy, and appeared in PolitiFact, Mental Floss, cnn.com and a host of other publications.

OPINION: 'A single state legislator drunk on imagined power'

By DAVID NORLIN <a href="https://kansasreflector.com/2022/07/07/whats-the-matter-consumerism-and-complacency-threaten-both-kansas-and-country/">Courtesy Kansas Reflector</a>

“What’s the Matter with Kansas?” Thomas Frank made <a target="_blank" href="https://www.kshs.org/kansapedia/what-s-the-matter-with-kansas/16717">William Allen White’s question</a>
 a nationally recognized book title in 2004. But before and after 
publication, its title captures not just a state, but a state of mind. 
In many states across the country, that question points to a spreading 
cancer within the republic. So much so that Frank’s book was published 
in Britain and Australia as “<a target="_blank" href="https://www.penguin.com.au/books/whats-the-matter-with-america-9780099565093">What’s the Matter with America?</a>”

What’s the cause of that cancer? An incisive <a target="_blank" href="https://kansasreflector.com/2022/05/25/where-did-the-kansas-legislatures-moderates-go-the-kansas-chamber-targeted-them/">May column in Kansas Reflector</a> by former legislator J.C. Moore points to two clear villains: The Kansas Chamber of Commerce and Americans for Prosperity.

“In the next election, the Kansas 
Chamber and AFP ran a smear campaign against many of the moderate 
Republicans who had voted to sustain (Gov. Laura Kelly’s) veto (of a tax
 bill costing the state about $600 million over the next three years, 
much of that going to large corporations). They sent out dozens of 
postcards demonizing them, distorting their positions, misquoting them, 
and using misleading Photoshopped pictures.”

The result: “The number of moderate Republicans in the Legislature dropped from about 30 to just five.”

The result is that Kansans are 
reeling from a deluge of bad legislation. A victory is avoiding the 
worst, not achieving the best.

Examples? Kansas remains <a target="_blank" href="https://www.kcur.org/health/2019-05-13/why-kansas-cops-dont-want-to-legalize-marijuana-medical-or-otherwise">one of four states</a> without a comprehensive medical or recreational marijuana program.

Kansas, after 10 years wandering in 
the wilderness, has refused to expand Medicaid, despite “38 states and 
the District of Columbia (implementing) Medicaid expansion, securing 
access to crucial health care services for millions of previously 
uninsured Americans,” wrote Craig Kennedy, president and CEO of Medicaid Health Plans of America, <a target="_blank" href="https://www.cjonline.com/story/opinion/2021/12/17/kansas-needs-legislature-pass-medicaid-expansion-2022/8931698002/">in the Topeka Capital-Journal</a>.

So critical is this lapse that even the medical community decries us.

The Legislature even put a 
constitutional amendment about the ability of lawmakers to restrict or 
even ban abortion into a primary election. Kansas primaries are 
primarily dominated by the most ideological, kneejerk party loyalists, 
most of them Republican.

Understanding the cynical, 
dollar-driven entities that influence public opinion is critical. But 
when their misleading postcards and ads arrive on-air or in-mailbox, why
 do we buy them? Short answer: We’ve become consumers, not citizens.

I have friends, good people 
otherwise, who illustrate this vividly. One tells me the Biden 
administration is not doing enough. Biden’s age-impaired, and inflation 
is too high. So, he’ll vote Republican, for Trump or a Trump clone.

He votes as if he were buying a 
refrigerator, boat, or smartphone. What’s the best deal available? How 
many gigabytes? Is it 3G, 4G, or 5G?&nbsp;

Such voters consider themselves kings (or queens).
 I’ll give my sacred vote to whomever doesn’t raise my taxes. Leave me 
tucked in and snug in my bubble. Keep the wolves at bay. Don’t disturb 
me. I’m gonna stay here, comfortable in my recliner, watching TV, 
cellphone, or laptop. I’m an American, by golly!

In 1985, Neil Postman, media theorist
 and cultural critic, wrote “Amusing Ourselves to Death: Public 
Discourse in the Age of Show Business.” Television, he said, reduces 
news and politics to entertainment. Public discourse becomes a circus, 
undermining “serious and rational public conversation.”

Nearly 40 years later, he’s more on target than ever. Take, for example, Rudy Giuliani’s untalented <a target="_blank" href="https://www.motherjones.com/politics/2022/04/rudy-giuliani-masked-singer-big-lie-autocracy/">April appearance on “The Masked Singer</a>,”&nbsp;singing “Bad to the Bone.”

Judge Ken Jeong walked off the set in
 protest. But the two remaining female hosts yucked it up with the rest 
of the audience. We need not recite all the ways Giuliani helped incite 
the Jan. 6, 2021, Capitol insurrection. Yet, rather than appear in 
prison stripes, he takes the stage as just another lovable celebrity.

Postman wrote that the threat to 
humanity comes less from a totalitarian state than from addiction to 
amusement, much like the “soma” happiness drug given out in Aldous 
Huxley’s “Brave New World.”

“When a population becomes distracted
 by trivia,” Postman wrote, “and cultural life is redefined as a 
perpetual round of entertainment, when serious public conversation 
becomes a form of baby talk, then, in short, people become an audience 
and their public business a vaudeville act. The Nation finds itself at 
risk.”

The public at large now seems like a bunch of Trump’s apprentices.

What’s the matter with Kansas? 
Complacent, celebrity-based consumerism. If we are to have the real 
drama of Democracy played out in real life, we are the actors we’ve been
 waiting for.

Democracy does not just happen. We have to work for it.

David Norlin of Salina is a retired teacher at Cloud County Community College, where he was department chair of Communications/English, specializing in media. He has twice run for the Kansas Legislature and has served on and chaired Salina’s Human Relations Commission, Planning Commission, and Access TV.&nbsp;

<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2022/7/1657204602433.png" alt="The Kansas Flint Hills stretch out near Matfield Green. Despite its gorgeous landscape, the state has suffered from distorted and distracted politics. (Shawna Bethell/Kansas Reflector)" />
 <figcaption>The Kansas Flint Hills stretch out near Matfield Green. Despite its gorgeous landscape, the state has suffered from distorted and distracted politics. (Shawna Bethell/Kansas Reflector)</figcaption>
 </figure>By DAVID NORLIN <a href="https://kansasreflector.com/2022/07/07/whats-the-matter-consumerism-and-complacency-threaten-both-kansas-and-country/">Courtesy Kansas Reflector</a>“What’s the Matter with Kansas?” Thomas Frank made <a target="_blank" href="https://www.kshs.org/kansapedia/what-s-the-matter-with-kansas/16717">William Allen White’s question</a>
 a nationally recognized book title in 2004. But before and after 
publication, its title captures not just a state, but a state of mind. 
In many states across the country, that question points to a spreading 
cancer within the republic. So much so that Frank’s book was published 
in Britain and Australia as “<a target="_blank" href="https://www.penguin.com.au/books/whats-the-matter-with-america-9780099565093">What’s the Matter with America?</a>”What’s the cause of that cancer? An incisive <a target="_blank" href="https://kansasreflector.com/2022/05/25/where-did-the-kansas-legislatures-moderates-go-the-kansas-chamber-targeted-them/">May column in Kansas Reflector</a> by former legislator J.C. Moore points to two clear villains: The Kansas Chamber of Commerce and Americans for Prosperity.“In the next election, the Kansas 
Chamber and AFP ran a smear campaign against many of the moderate 
Republicans who had voted to sustain (Gov. Laura Kelly’s) veto (of a tax
 bill costing the state about $600 million over the next three years, 
much of that going to large corporations). They sent out dozens of 
postcards demonizing them, distorting their positions, misquoting them, 
and using misleading Photoshopped pictures.”<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2019/12/1575913663048.png" alt="" />
 <figcaption></figcaption>
 </figure>The result: “The number of moderate Republicans in the Legislature dropped from about 30 to just five.”The result is that Kansans are 
reeling from a deluge of bad legislation. A victory is avoiding the 
worst, not achieving the best.Examples? Kansas remains <a target="_blank" href="https://www.kcur.org/health/2019-05-13/why-kansas-cops-dont-want-to-legalize-marijuana-medical-or-otherwise">one of four states</a> without a comprehensive medical or recreational marijuana program.Kansas, after 10 years wandering in 
the wilderness, has refused to expand Medicaid, despite “38 states and 
the District of Columbia (implementing) Medicaid expansion, securing 
access to crucial health care services for millions of previously 
uninsured Americans,” wrote Craig Kennedy, president and CEO of Medicaid Health Plans of America, <a target="_blank" href="https://www.cjonline.com/story/opinion/2021/12/17/kansas-needs-legislature-pass-medicaid-expansion-2022/8931698002/">in the Topeka Capital-Journal</a>.So critical is this lapse that even the medical community decries us.The Legislature even put a 
constitutional amendment about the ability of lawmakers to restrict or 
even ban abortion into a primary election. Kansas primaries are 
primarily dominated by the most ideological, kneejerk party loyalists, 
most of them Republican.What is the matter? With them? With us?Understanding the cynical, 
dollar-driven entities that influence public opinion is critical. But 
when their misleading postcards and ads arrive on-air or in-mailbox, why
 do we buy them? Short answer: We’ve become consumers, not citizens.I have friends, good people 
otherwise, who illustrate this vividly. One tells me the Biden 
administration is not doing enough. Biden’s age-impaired, and inflation 
is too high. So, he’ll vote Republican, for Trump or a Trump clone.He votes as if he were buying a 
refrigerator, boat, or smartphone. What’s the best deal available? How 
many gigabytes? Is it 3G, 4G, or 5G?&nbsp;Such voters consider themselves kings (or queens).
 I’ll give my sacred vote to whomever doesn’t raise my taxes. Leave me 
tucked in and snug in my bubble. Keep the wolves at bay. Don’t disturb 
me. I’m gonna stay here, comfortable in my recliner, watching TV, 
cellphone, or laptop. I’m an American, by golly!In 1985, Neil Postman, media theorist
 and cultural critic, wrote “Amusing Ourselves to Death: Public 
Discourse in the Age of Show Business.” Television, he said, reduces 
news and politics to entertainment. Public discourse becomes a circus, 
undermining “serious and rational public conversation.”Nearly 40 years later, he’s more on target than ever. Take, for example, Rudy Giuliani’s untalented <a target="_blank" href="https://www.motherjones.com/politics/2022/04/rudy-giuliani-masked-singer-big-lie-autocracy/">April appearance on “The Masked Singer</a>,”&nbsp;singing “Bad to the Bone.”Judge Ken Jeong walked off the set in
 protest. But the two remaining female hosts yucked it up with the rest 
of the audience. We need not recite all the ways Giuliani helped incite 
the Jan. 6, 2021, Capitol insurrection. Yet, rather than appear in 
prison stripes, he takes the stage as just another lovable celebrity.Postman wrote that the threat to 
humanity comes less from a totalitarian state than from addiction to 
amusement, much like the “soma” happiness drug given out in Aldous 
Huxley’s “Brave New World.”“When a population becomes distracted
 by trivia,” Postman wrote, “and cultural life is redefined as a 
perpetual round of entertainment, when serious public conversation 
becomes a form of baby talk, then, in short, people become an audience 
and their public business a vaudeville act. The Nation finds itself at 
risk.”The public at large now seems like a bunch of Trump’s apprentices.What’s the matter with Kansas? 
Complacent, celebrity-based consumerism. If we are to have the real 
drama of Democracy played out in real life, we are the actors we’ve been
 waiting for.Democracy does not just happen. We have to work for it.David Norlin of Salina is a retired teacher at Cloud County Community College, where he was department chair of Communications/English, specializing in media. He has twice run for the Kansas Legislature and has served on and chaired Salina’s Human Relations Commission, Planning Commission, and Access TV.&nbsp;

OPINION: Consumerism, complacency threaten both Kansas, country

If you’ve read this column regularly over the past several years, you know how much I love commencement weekend at Fort Hays State University. For the graduating students and their families, this is a time of tremendous joy, and it is an honor and a privilege for me to greet each one as they cross the stage.&nbsp;&nbsp;

Several days after our spring commencement weekend in May, I received a note from Mallory Fischer. For Mallory, graduation day was a celebration ten tough years in the making. After years of struggling to find her way, she decided to take control of her life. “I made a lot of mistakes. I got kicked out of college. I was basically homeless. Finally, I decided I didn’t want to be mediocre anymore,” said Mallory.&nbsp;

In 2014, Mallory enrolled at Seward Community College in Liberal, where she went on to earn two associate’s degrees that led to her starting a career as a certified surgical technologist. She then came to FHSU in 2019 to pursue a bachelor’s degree in biology with the goal of becoming a physician’s assistant. At FHSU, Mallory decided to pursue a minor in Chemistry and began working in the department.&nbsp;

Four days before graduation, Mallory was studying in the Memorial Union. She looked out the window and saw a group of students playing volleyball on the quad. She decided to take a break and join in the action. In the heat of competition, Mallory recalls hearing and feeling a “pop” as she fell to the grass. While on the ground and initially a bit embarrassed after her tumble, she noticed that the lower half of her leg-didn’t look right. As the result of the fall, Mallory ruptured her anterior cruciate ligament (ACL), suffered several micro-fractures in her lower leg, and strained both her posterior cruciate ligament (PCL) and her medial collateral ligament (MCL). In short, very little was holding her leg together below her knee.

Immediately, her fellow students, most of whom she didn’t even know, sprung to her aid. Several headed for the Medical Services office in the Fischli-Wills Center for Student Success to help. They came back with a medical team and a wheelchair. While waiting for the medical staff to arrive, graduate student Misael Trejo sat with Mallory and kept her calm and alert.&nbsp;

Mallory admits that she probably should have gone immediately to the Hays Medical Center, but at the time insisted on going home to Dodge City to seek the attention of an orthopedist she knew well and trusted from her time working in the operating room.&nbsp;

It was about this time, just a few days before the graduation ceremony she had looked forward to for so long, that Mallory began to despair. Before she could even think about it and how she might be able to participate in commencement, she still had one more exam she had to complete-a chemistry final. With her leg secured in a brace but still suffering from significant pain from a major injury that would require an operation, Mallory made the trek back to campus to take her final. She recalls three things from this last academic challenge. First, she cried most of the way through the exam.&nbsp;Second, she bombed the test. And third, her professor, Dr. Krisztina&nbsp;Benze, was there to remind her that she had done so well in the class that failing her exam final would have no bearing on her grade or her being able to graduate.&nbsp;

Relieved as she was to complete all of her academic requirements despite the injury, Mallory still doubted whether she would be able to physically make it into the ceremony and participate with her graduating class as she had envisioned. That’s when her mentors in the Chemistry Department stepped in.&nbsp;Dr.&nbsp;Benze, Dr. Arvin Cruz,&nbsp;and Dr. James&nbsp;Balthazor&nbsp;were adamant. They told her she had no choice. They told her they all had decided that she would graduate with her class, and they would be there to support her throughout the event.&nbsp;

Mallory then decided to reach out to the Office of the Provost to explore any accommodations the university might make so she could participate at some level. She really wanted to process with her fellow graduates and walk across the stage to receive her diploma, but she was ready to accept something lesser if she could still attend the ceremony. Executive Administrative Specialist Cynthia Cline answered her phone call. She is one of our principal commencement ceremony organizers. Cline told her not to worry. She would meet Mallory at Gross Memorial Coliseum on the morning of the event and ensure everything would be OK.&nbsp;

Mallory arrived on graduation morning, and Cynthia&nbsp;was there as promised. She told Mallory that her significant other could sit with her and push her wheelchair as necessary. While Mallory was waiting for the event to begin, she encountered Dr.&nbsp;Balthazor. She told him she thought she was going to her seat on the coliseum floor ahead of the student procession and would probably miss joining this part of the event.&nbsp;Balthazor, slated to guide the procession as a commencement marshal, told her that not only would she participate in the procession, she would lead it! He then stepped behind her wheelchair, and Mallory, with the help of her friend and mentor, Dr.&nbsp;Balthazor, led the procession.&nbsp;&nbsp;

In her email to me, Mallory shared these thoughts:

I am so proud of how far I have come, and thanks to this incredible university, I was able to celebrate this very special day in front of my friends and family.&nbsp;

FHSU is my happy place. I received an excellent education that has prepared me for my future and simultaneously allowed me to cultivate relationships I will always treasure with many brilliant professors and my fellow students. I will miss this campus dearly. And I will never forget the kindness the professors, staff, and students provided me throughout this experience. You have an amazing team.&nbsp;

Thank you, Mallory. I think you are right. We do have an amazing team at FHSU. I call it our “ethic of care,” and it’s&nbsp;a fine description of&nbsp;the&nbsp;compassionate and caring people who make this&nbsp;university community&nbsp;special.&nbsp;

<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2019/12/1575301942236.jpeg" alt="Dr. Tisa Mason, FHSU president" />
 <figcaption>Dr. Tisa Mason, FHSU president</figcaption>
 </figure>If you’ve read this column regularly over the past several years, you know how much I love commencement weekend at Fort Hays State University. For the graduating students and their families, this is a time of tremendous joy, and it is an honor and a privilege for me to greet each one as they cross the stage.&nbsp;&nbsp;Several days after our spring commencement weekend in May, I received a note from Mallory Fischer. For Mallory, graduation day was a celebration ten tough years in the making. After years of struggling to find her way, she decided to take control of her life. “I made a lot of mistakes. I got kicked out of college. I was basically homeless. Finally, I decided I didn’t want to be mediocre anymore,” said Mallory.&nbsp;In 2014, Mallory enrolled at Seward Community College in Liberal, where she went on to earn two associate’s degrees that led to her starting a career as a certified surgical technologist. She then came to FHSU in 2019 to pursue a bachelor’s degree in biology with the goal of becoming a physician’s assistant. At FHSU, Mallory decided to pursue a minor in Chemistry and began working in the department.&nbsp;Four days before graduation, Mallory was studying in the Memorial Union. She looked out the window and saw a group of students playing volleyball on the quad. She decided to take a break and join in the action. In the heat of competition, Mallory recalls hearing and feeling a “pop” as she fell to the grass. While on the ground and initially a bit embarrassed after her tumble, she noticed that the lower half of her leg-didn’t look right. As the result of the fall, Mallory ruptured her anterior cruciate ligament (ACL), suffered several micro-fractures in her lower leg, and strained both her posterior cruciate ligament (PCL) and her medial collateral ligament (MCL). In short, very little was holding her leg together below her knee.Immediately, her fellow students, most of whom she didn’t even know, sprung to her aid. Several headed for the Medical Services office in the Fischli-Wills Center for Student Success to help. They came back with a medical team and a wheelchair. While waiting for the medical staff to arrive, graduate student Misael Trejo sat with Mallory and kept her calm and alert.&nbsp;Mallory admits that she probably should have gone immediately to the Hays Medical Center, but at the time insisted on going home to Dodge City to seek the attention of an orthopedist she knew well and trusted from her time working in the operating room.&nbsp;It was about this time, just a few days before the graduation ceremony she had looked forward to for so long, that Mallory began to despair. Before she could even think about it and how she might be able to participate in commencement, she still had one more exam she had to complete-a chemistry final. With her leg secured in a brace but still suffering from significant pain from a major injury that would require an operation, Mallory made the trek back to campus to take her final. She recalls three things from this last academic challenge. First, she cried most of the way through the exam.&nbsp;Second, she bombed the test. And third, her professor, Dr. Krisztina&nbsp;Benze, was there to remind her that she had done so well in the class that failing her exam final would have no bearing on her grade or her being able to graduate.&nbsp;Relieved as she was to complete all of her academic requirements despite the injury, Mallory still doubted whether she would be able to physically make it into the ceremony and participate with her graduating class as she had envisioned. That’s when her mentors in the Chemistry Department stepped in.&nbsp;Dr.&nbsp;Benze, Dr. Arvin Cruz,&nbsp;and Dr. James&nbsp;Balthazor&nbsp;were adamant. They told her she had no choice. They told her they all had decided that she would graduate with her class, and they would be there to support her throughout the event.&nbsp;Mallory then decided to reach out to the Office of the Provost to explore any accommodations the university might make so she could participate at some level. She really wanted to process with her fellow graduates and walk across the stage to receive her diploma, but she was ready to accept something lesser if she could still attend the ceremony. Executive Administrative Specialist Cynthia Cline answered her phone call. She is one of our principal commencement ceremony organizers. Cline told her not to worry. She would meet Mallory at Gross Memorial Coliseum on the morning of the event and ensure everything would be OK.&nbsp;Mallory arrived on graduation morning, and Cynthia&nbsp;was there as promised. She told Mallory that her significant other could sit with her and push her wheelchair as necessary. While Mallory was waiting for the event to begin, she encountered Dr.&nbsp;Balthazor. She told him she thought she was going to her seat on the coliseum floor ahead of the student procession and would probably miss joining this part of the event.&nbsp;Balthazor, slated to guide the procession as a commencement marshal, told her that not only would she participate in the procession, she would lead it! He then stepped behind her wheelchair, and Mallory, with the help of her friend and mentor, Dr.&nbsp;Balthazor, led the procession.&nbsp;&nbsp;In her email to me, Mallory shared these thoughts:I am so proud of how far I have come, and thanks to this incredible university, I was able to celebrate this very special day in front of my friends and family.&nbsp;FHSU is my happy place. I received an excellent education that has prepared me for my future and simultaneously allowed me to cultivate relationships I will always treasure with many brilliant professors and my fellow students. I will miss this campus dearly. And I will never forget the kindness the professors, staff, and students provided me throughout this experience. You have an amazing team.&nbsp;Thank you, Mallory. I think you are right. We do have an amazing team at FHSU. I call it our “ethic of care,” and it’s&nbsp;a fine description of&nbsp;the&nbsp;compassionate and caring people who make this&nbsp;university community&nbsp;special.&nbsp;

MASON: Team Mallory

In vitro fertilization (IVF) faces an uncertain future in Kansas if the abortion amendment on the August 2nd ballot passes.&nbsp;

The U.S. Supreme Court recently overturned precedent on&nbsp;Roe v. Wade, allowing states to ban abortion. Voters now have a direct say in whether abortion remains legal in Kansas.&nbsp;

If the abortion amendment passes with a “yes” vote, then the Kansas legislature can ban abortion under any circumstance. If the amendment fails with a “no” vote, then abortion remains legal but heavily restricted in Kansas.&nbsp;

Quoting the Mayo Clinic, IVF “is a complex series of procedures used to help with fertility or prevent genetic problems and assist with the conception of a child.”&nbsp;&nbsp;

IVF involves medication and surgery to implant fertilized eggs in a uterus. It often involves fertilizing multiple embryos to increase the chance of a successful and healthy pregnancy.&nbsp;

The Centers for Disease Control estimates that about 2 percent of annual American births occur via IVF. Americans who use the procedure often face infertility challenges and recurrent miscarriage due to genetic problems.&nbsp;

Vague language in state abortion bans threatens IVF. Many bans declare that life begins at fertilization. They criminalize terminating fertilized embryos and the broad wording in many can readily be interpreted as criminalizing IVF. Indeed, doctors are widely concerned that abortion bans might soon be used to ban or limit IVF.&nbsp;&nbsp;

The easy “fix” to safeguard IVF is for politicians to explicitly exempt it from abortion bans. However, many conservative politicians are reluctant to do that.&nbsp;

A recent&nbsp;Washington Post&nbsp;analysis documents that dozens of anti-abortion bills introduced in state legislatures since 2010 fail to explicitly safeguard IVF. That includes Kansas.&nbsp;&nbsp;

This year, a conservative lawmaker in Kansas introduced House Bill (HB) 2746. It bans abortion except in very limited circumstances, with no exception for rape, incest, or many threats to a woman’s life or health. It makes no apparent exception for IVF.&nbsp;&nbsp;

HB 2746 didn’t pass, but the Republican House Majority Leader didn’t rule out considering it in 2023 when speaking to the&nbsp;Kansas City Star.&nbsp;

National surveys show that only about 15 percent of Americans consider IVF immoral. That minority skews toward Republican-leaning religious conservatives.&nbsp;&nbsp;

Many conservative politicians who are anti-abortion might worry that defending IVF will anger Republican primary voters, perhaps fearing twisted campaign accusations of being “pro-abortion.”&nbsp;

Other conservative politicians openly oppose IVF on moral grounds, though they rarely propose banning it. The closest Kansas has come to an IVF ban is when Republicans considered Senate Bill 302 in 2014. That bill, which failed, criminalized surrogate pregnancy in Kansas, and applied to IVF and artificial insemination.&nbsp;

If the August abortion amendment fails, then the Kansas legislature cannot pass an abortion ban that might ultimately threaten IVF in our state.&nbsp;

But, if the abortion amendment passes, then the Kansas legislature could pass an abortion ban like HB 2746 that doesn’t safeguard IVF. That would leave the legal status of IVF in Kansas in limbo.&nbsp;

Some conservative lawmakers might be perfectly content to intentionally “oops” their way into threatening IVF despite there being an easy out to that situation. But, the easy political choice for politicians could cost Kansans seeking fertility treatment, and ultimately harm Kansas families.&nbsp;

Patrick R. Miller is an Associate Professor of Political Science at the University of Kansas.&nbsp;

<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2019/12/1575644168170.png" alt="Patrick R. Miller is an Associate Professor of Political Science at the University of Kansas.&nbsp;" />
 <figcaption>Patrick R. Miller is an Associate Professor of Political Science at the University of Kansas.&nbsp;</figcaption>
 </figure>In vitro fertilization (IVF) faces an uncertain future in Kansas if the abortion amendment on the August 2nd ballot passes.&nbsp;The U.S. Supreme Court recently overturned precedent on&nbsp;Roe v. Wade, allowing states to ban abortion. Voters now have a direct say in whether abortion remains legal in Kansas.&nbsp;If the abortion amendment passes with a “yes” vote, then the Kansas legislature can ban abortion under any circumstance. If the amendment fails with a “no” vote, then abortion remains legal but heavily restricted in Kansas.&nbsp;What is IVF?&nbsp;Quoting the Mayo Clinic, IVF “is a complex series of procedures used to help with fertility or prevent genetic problems and assist with the conception of a child.”&nbsp;&nbsp;<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2019/12/1575913663048.png" alt="" />
 <figcaption></figcaption>
 </figure>IVF involves medication and surgery to implant fertilized eggs in a uterus. It often involves fertilizing multiple embryos to increase the chance of a successful and healthy pregnancy.&nbsp;The Centers for Disease Control estimates that about 2 percent of annual American births occur via IVF. Americans who use the procedure often face infertility challenges and recurrent miscarriage due to genetic problems.&nbsp;How do abortion bans affect IVF?&nbsp;Vague language in state abortion bans threatens IVF. Many bans declare that life begins at fertilization. They criminalize terminating fertilized embryos and the broad wording in many can readily be interpreted as criminalizing IVF. Indeed, doctors are widely concerned that abortion bans might soon be used to ban or limit IVF.&nbsp;&nbsp;The easy “fix” to safeguard IVF is for politicians to explicitly exempt it from abortion bans. However, many conservative politicians are reluctant to do that.&nbsp;A recent&nbsp;Washington Post&nbsp;analysis documents that dozens of anti-abortion bills introduced in state legislatures since 2010 fail to explicitly safeguard IVF. That includes Kansas.&nbsp;&nbsp;This year, a conservative lawmaker in Kansas introduced House Bill (HB) 2746. It bans abortion except in very limited circumstances, with no exception for rape, incest, or many threats to a woman’s life or health. It makes no apparent exception for IVF.&nbsp;&nbsp;HB 2746 didn’t pass, but the Republican House Majority Leader didn’t rule out considering it in 2023 when speaking to the&nbsp;Kansas City Star.&nbsp;Why not shield IVF?&nbsp;National surveys show that only about 15 percent of Americans consider IVF immoral. That minority skews toward Republican-leaning religious conservatives.&nbsp;&nbsp;Many conservative politicians who are anti-abortion might worry that defending IVF will anger Republican primary voters, perhaps fearing twisted campaign accusations of being “pro-abortion.”&nbsp;Other conservative politicians openly oppose IVF on moral grounds, though they rarely propose banning it. The closest Kansas has come to an IVF ban is when Republicans considered Senate Bill 302 in 2014. That bill, which failed, criminalized surrogate pregnancy in Kansas, and applied to IVF and artificial insemination.&nbsp;How does August matter?&nbsp;If the August abortion amendment fails, then the Kansas legislature cannot pass an abortion ban that might ultimately threaten IVF in our state.&nbsp;But, if the abortion amendment passes, then the Kansas legislature could pass an abortion ban like HB 2746 that doesn’t safeguard IVF. That would leave the legal status of IVF in Kansas in limbo.&nbsp;Some conservative lawmakers might be perfectly content to intentionally “oops” their way into threatening IVF despite there being an easy out to that situation. But, the easy political choice for politicians could cost Kansans seeking fertility treatment, and ultimately harm Kansas families.&nbsp;Patrick R. Miller is an Associate Professor of Political Science at the University of Kansas.&nbsp;

INSIGHT KANSAS: Abortion and the future of IVF treatment

A few years ago, while out cruising the backroads near Inman, we discovered a group of blue heron nests high in trees along the river. We stop by each spring to check on them and to marvel at the&nbsp;almost comical sight of great blue herons standing tall in the middle of hodge-podge collections of twigs and leaves in the top of cottonwood trees. We checked on them just recently, and they are there again this year. I’m reminded of a&nbsp;funny&nbsp;conversation I had&nbsp;with a nursing home resident a couple years before I retired.

That particular day&nbsp;while walking down the hall at&nbsp;the large nursing home where I worked as a maintenance technician, I passed by a sunroom where an elder was working on a crossword puzzle. Liz&nbsp;was&nbsp;a classy lady whom I love talking with, so I swung in for some conversation. The long windows in that sunroom overlook Inman’s nice little park pond, where a great blue heron was fishing along the bank. She saw me watching the heron and asked “Are you watching the shitepoke?”&nbsp;I turned and asked her&nbsp;“What&nbsp;did you call it?”&nbsp;“A shitepoke,” she stated; “Are you watching the shitepoke?”

I remember hearing my grandpa talk&nbsp;about shitepokes&nbsp;when I was a kid but had no idea he was talking about herons. As I stood there in the sunroom, chuckling at what Liz had&nbsp;just&nbsp;said, another elder who heard nothing of our conversation walked into the room and promptly asked “Are you&nbsp;watching that&nbsp;shitepoke&nbsp;over there?”&nbsp;

Apparently the slang name “shitepoke”&nbsp;is an old country name&nbsp;given generations ago to any member of the heron family because of behavior I guess I have never witnessed.&nbsp;Evidently herons have a habit of defecating when startled and flushed from their hunting spot, often leaving a long white ribbon of digested fish parts in the air as they flee. I searched at length but nowhere could I find a language or nationality of origin, but EVERYTHING&nbsp;I found agreed on what it meant. The last four letters “poke” literally means a sack of some sort, and&nbsp;from watching British detective shows on TV, I know&nbsp;the first five letters “shite” literally mean _ _ _ _ or excrement, thus the term “shitepoke” was meant to mean a sack of excrement.&nbsp;Apparently&nbsp;our&nbsp;ancestorsnamed the birds based on what they observed.

I also found that the term shitepoke is supposedly used&nbsp;(understandably)&nbsp;in some parts of the country as a derogatory term. The explanation went as follows: “A&nbsp;shitepoke is someone who revels in the drama of needless commotion accompanied by a lot of noise and fanfare, ultimately leaving someone else to clean up the mess. Simplified, a shitepoke is someone who’s only contribution to an issue or situation is a load of shite.”&nbsp;On one of the many&nbsp;discussion sites I visited,&nbsp;someone remembered&nbsp;never hearing their parents swear, but rather hearing them say “Oh shitepoke” when angry.

A few other common birds have nicknames that reflect something obvious about their behavior. Baltimore Orioles make those amazing hanging nests, earning them the nickname “hang nest.” American Goldfinches are also known as “thistle birds” because of their love for thistle seed.&nbsp;Cuckoos for&nbsp;some reason can&nbsp;often be heard just before a rain storm, prompting the old timers to call them “rain crows&nbsp;or storm crows,”&nbsp;and the nickname “bob white” for quail should be self-explanatory.&nbsp;

I found a few other nicknames for herons also, most of them more honorable than shitepoke.&nbsp;There was Ol’ Cranky, Big Cranky, Grandfather, Crane, Blue Crane, Gray Crane, Long John and Poor Joe. Over the years I’ve written a couple stories on great blue herons, and now I’m wondering if readers found them to be boring and mundane cause’ I’ve always just referred to them as great blue herons and never anything as interesting as shitepoke or Ol’ Cranky.&nbsp;Before my conversation with&nbsp;Liz&nbsp;ended that day, I remember asking&nbsp;if she ever heard anyone say what they thought the word shitepoke meant. She thought for a second, then said “Nope; we just always called them “shitepokes” and&nbsp;I&nbsp;guess&nbsp;that’s what they were!”

<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2019/11/1574696211722.png" alt="Steve&nbsp;Gilliland" />
 <figcaption>Steve&nbsp;Gilliland</figcaption>
 </figure>A few years ago, while out cruising the backroads near Inman, we discovered a group of blue heron nests high in trees along the river. We stop by each spring to check on them and to marvel at the&nbsp;almost comical sight of great blue herons standing tall in the middle of hodge-podge collections of twigs and leaves in the top of cottonwood trees. We checked on them just recently, and they are there again this year. I’m reminded of a&nbsp;funny&nbsp;conversation I had&nbsp;with a nursing home resident a couple years before I retired.That particular day&nbsp;while walking down the hall at&nbsp;the large nursing home where I worked as a maintenance technician, I passed by a sunroom where an elder was working on a crossword puzzle. Liz&nbsp;was&nbsp;a classy lady whom I love talking with, so I swung in for some conversation. The long windows in that sunroom overlook Inman’s nice little park pond, where a great blue heron was fishing along the bank. She saw me watching the heron and asked “Are you watching the shitepoke?”&nbsp;I turned and asked her&nbsp;“What&nbsp;did you call it?”&nbsp;“A shitepoke,” she stated; “Are you watching the shitepoke?”I remember hearing my grandpa talk&nbsp;about shitepokes&nbsp;when I was a kid but had no idea he was talking about herons. As I stood there in the sunroom, chuckling at what Liz had&nbsp;just&nbsp;said, another elder who heard nothing of our conversation walked into the room and promptly asked “Are you&nbsp;watching that&nbsp;shitepoke&nbsp;over there?”&nbsp;Apparently the slang name “shitepoke”&nbsp;is an old country name&nbsp;given generations ago to any member of the heron family because of behavior I guess I have never witnessed.&nbsp;Evidently herons have a habit of defecating when startled and flushed from their hunting spot, often leaving a long white ribbon of digested fish parts in the air as they flee. I searched at length but nowhere could I find a language or nationality of origin, but EVERYTHING&nbsp;I found agreed on what it meant. The last four letters “poke” literally means a sack of some sort, and&nbsp;from watching British detective shows on TV, I know&nbsp;the first five letters “shite” literally mean _ _ _ _ or excrement, thus the term “shitepoke” was meant to mean a sack of excrement.&nbsp;Apparently&nbsp;our&nbsp;ancestorsnamed the birds based on what they observed.I also found that the term shitepoke is supposedly used&nbsp;(understandably)&nbsp;in some parts of the country as a derogatory term. The explanation went as follows: “A&nbsp;shitepoke is someone who revels in the drama of needless commotion accompanied by a lot of noise and fanfare, ultimately leaving someone else to clean up the mess. Simplified, a shitepoke is someone who’s only contribution to an issue or situation is a load of shite.”&nbsp;On one of the many&nbsp;discussion sites I visited,&nbsp;someone remembered&nbsp;never hearing their parents swear, but rather hearing them say “Oh shitepoke” when angry.A few other common birds have nicknames that reflect something obvious about their behavior. Baltimore Orioles make those amazing hanging nests, earning them the nickname “hang nest.” American Goldfinches are also known as “thistle birds” because of their love for thistle seed.&nbsp;Cuckoos for&nbsp;some reason can&nbsp;often be heard just before a rain storm, prompting the old timers to call them “rain crows&nbsp;or storm crows,”&nbsp;and the nickname “bob white” for quail should be self-explanatory.&nbsp;I found a few other nicknames for herons also, most of them more honorable than shitepoke.&nbsp;There was Ol’ Cranky, Big Cranky, Grandfather, Crane, Blue Crane, Gray Crane, Long John and Poor Joe. Over the years I’ve written a couple stories on great blue herons, and now I’m wondering if readers found them to be boring and mundane cause’ I’ve always just referred to them as great blue herons and never anything as interesting as shitepoke or Ol’ Cranky.&nbsp;Before my conversation with&nbsp;Liz&nbsp;ended that day, I remember asking&nbsp;if she ever heard anyone say what they thought the word shitepoke meant. She thought for a second, then said “Nope; we just always called them “shitepokes” and&nbsp;I&nbsp;guess&nbsp;that’s what they were!”Continue to Explore Kansas Outdoors.Steve Gilliland, Inman, can be contacted by email at stevenrgilliland@gmail.com.

Exploring Outdoors Kansas: Shitepokes 

By JACKIE MUNDT Pratt County farmer and rancher Harvest is a farmer’s Super Bowl. It’s the culmination of a year’s work and his way to measure success. After the last load of wheat heads to town, there is a final buzz of activity. Equipment is cleaned and put away, paperwork sorted and other things neglected during harvest are checked on. The stress of constant activity, anticipation and worry, ebbs and there is room to breathe; a moment of thankfulness and rest. That brief rest is a special time for a farm family. Though a farmer’s work is never done, a fresh sense of accomplishment reminds a farmer that even God rested occasionally. The win of harvest gives farm families a small window for a holiday. Marc and I love both love to plan trips and travel to fun destinations, but he often struggles to commit to plans far enough in advance to book tickets or make firm commitments with friends. He can’t predict the weather, if irrigators will break down, when crops will be ready to harvest, if cattle fences will need unexpected mending, a storm causing damage or all the other unpredicted but steady tasks that keep farmers busy 365 days a year. But when the stars align, a brief vacation is in order. We love to grab a road map and snacks and jump in the car for a day of exploring the hidden gems of our neighboring towns in Kansas. Some people may read this and think I mean Wichita, Kansas City or one of our larger cities. Though these cities have some wonderful attractions, they are rarely the focus of our Kansas adventures. A little over a decade ago when I first moved here, the Kansas Sampler Foundation had just completed their “8 Wonders of Kansas” publications. That list joined personal recommendations from friends and our paper atlas to create ready inspiration for any of a dozen day trips we have ready for moments when the opportunity arises for us to travel this beautiful and unique state. If you have never seen the “8 Wonders of Kansas” or taken a day trip to the small towns who have pulled together resources to create museums, preserved history, share local art, or supported unique customs and businesses, you are missing out. Another joy of these day trips is that very little planning allows us to be flexible and see where the road leads us. This year our postharvest adventure started with my dad’s (a farmer who sees helping during wheat harvest as his annual vacation) interest in the Kansas Motorcycle Museum in Marquette. Lunch at the Ranch House, an extensive and well maintained motorcycle collection and a very trendy and cool Smoky Hill Distillery awaited us on Main Street in Marquette. Next we decided to travel to neighboring Lindsborg for the view from Coronado Heights, the Old Mill Museum and the Dala Horse artists at Hemslojd. We meandered home through Lyons for a tasty dinner at the County Seat. Our day in towns with less than 4,000 people included rare items, interesting culture and history, great food and drink, and wonderful family memories. Small town Kansas may not be on the top of your vacation bucket list, but it is full of interesting people who freely share their passion with the people who step into their towns every day. That is what make traveling through our state so amazing. The next time you have a moment to pause for an adventure, I hope you will get out and see what the small towns around our state have to offer. Maybe I will see you there.

"Insight" is a weekly column published by Kansas Farm Bureau, the state's largest farm organization whose mission is to strengthen agriculture and the lives of Kansans through advocacy, education and service.&nbsp;

<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2019/12/1575406519723.jpeg" alt="Jackie Mundt" />
 <figcaption>Jackie Mundt</figcaption>
 </figure>By JACKIE MUNDT Pratt County farmer and rancher Harvest is a farmer’s Super Bowl. It’s the culmination of a year’s work and his way to measure success. After the last load of wheat heads to town, there is a final buzz of activity. Equipment is cleaned and put away, paperwork sorted and other things neglected during harvest are checked on. The stress of constant activity, anticipation and worry, ebbs and there is room to breathe; a moment of thankfulness and rest. That brief rest is a special time for a farm family. Though a farmer’s work is never done, a fresh sense of accomplishment reminds a farmer that even God rested occasionally. The win of harvest gives farm families a small window for a holiday. Marc and I love both love to plan trips and travel to fun destinations, but he often struggles to commit to plans far enough in advance to book tickets or make firm commitments with friends. He can’t predict the weather, if irrigators will break down, when crops will be ready to harvest, if cattle fences will need unexpected mending, a storm causing damage or all the other unpredicted but steady tasks that keep farmers busy 365 days a year. But when the stars align, a brief vacation is in order. We love to grab a road map and snacks and jump in the car for a day of exploring the hidden gems of our neighboring towns in Kansas. Some people may read this and think I mean Wichita, Kansas City or one of our larger cities. Though these cities have some wonderful attractions, they are rarely the focus of our Kansas adventures. A little over a decade ago when I first moved here, the Kansas Sampler Foundation had just completed their “8 Wonders of Kansas” publications. That list joined personal recommendations from friends and our paper atlas to create ready inspiration for any of a dozen day trips we have ready for moments when the opportunity arises for us to travel this beautiful and unique state. If you have never seen the “8 Wonders of Kansas” or taken a day trip to the small towns who have pulled together resources to create museums, preserved history, share local art, or supported unique customs and businesses, you are missing out. Another joy of these day trips is that very little planning allows us to be flexible and see where the road leads us. This year our postharvest adventure started with my dad’s (a farmer who sees helping during wheat harvest as his annual vacation) interest in the Kansas Motorcycle Museum in Marquette. Lunch at the Ranch House, an extensive and well maintained motorcycle collection and a very trendy and cool Smoky Hill Distillery awaited us on Main Street in Marquette. Next we decided to travel to neighboring Lindsborg for the view from Coronado Heights, the Old Mill Museum and the Dala Horse artists at Hemslojd. We meandered home through Lyons for a tasty dinner at the County Seat. Our day in towns with less than 4,000 people included rare items, interesting culture and history, great food and drink, and wonderful family memories. Small town Kansas may not be on the top of your vacation bucket list, but it is full of interesting people who freely share their passion with the people who step into their towns every day. That is what make traveling through our state so amazing. The next time you have a moment to pause for an adventure, I hope you will get out and see what the small towns around our state have to offer. Maybe I will see you there."Insight" is a weekly column published by Kansas Farm Bureau, the state's largest farm organization whose mission is to strengthen agriculture and the lives of Kansans through advocacy, education and service.&nbsp;

Kansas Farm Bureau Insight: The joy of farm family day trips

By RON SMITH <a href="https://kansasreflector.com/2022/06/28/in-electing-lawmakers-kansans-might-want-to-look-past-active-verb-artists/">Courtesy Kansas Reflector</a>

True Story: The 2022 Kansas 
Legislature recessed in early April before coming back to a veto 
session. During the break, several legislators, the attorney general, 
and the governor decided to go on safari. While stretching their legs 
outside the jeep, a lion jumped out of the bushes and cornered the 
attorney general. The others scream at the governor to help him. She 
said, “The<a href="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/d/d0/Cowardly_Lion.png" target="_blank"> lion</a> got itself into this mess, it can get itself out.”

Before 1964, farm folks were a 
majority of lawmakers in Kansas. Every county had its own state 
representative. The Legislature met for only 30- or 60-day sessions. 
Veto sessions were two-day affairs and considered only motions to 
override vetoes. At session’s end, everyone shook hands and went home in
 time to plant fall crops. My former senior partner, Glee Smith Jr., was
 president of the Kansas Senate in the late 1960s when the state changed
 from each county having its own representative to the “one person, one 
vote” concept.

Now sessions are 120 days, with 
lengthy veto sessions in even-numbered years. Lawmaking takes a serious 
time commitment. That’s also why there are fewer businesspeople and 
professionals in the Legislature, and it is top-heavy with retired 
folks. The number of lobbyists has increased like rabbits in a prairie 
brothel. And the veto sessions not only consider vetoes and the freak 
bills lawmakers couldn’t decide on before the break — but they vote on 
the omnibus budget bill. Think Jabba the Hutt dining on greenbacks.&nbsp;

Modern campaigning has begun. You 
won’t see your local representative or senator at your door. You get 
flyers instead. They brag, “I did all these Good Things for You.” His or
 her identity isn’t important. Their flyers are out. They all are 
self-proclaimed heroes and heroines.

Miss Bebermeier, my fifth-grade teacher, would say, “Oh my, look at all those active verbs!”

My rep was “busy working on important
 legislation.” After the break, “I’ll be working on even more important 
legislation.” “Important” is not defined.

“I represent every person in the 
district, not just those who voted for me.” Well, then it will be 
interesting to see why so many vote against him or her.

I’m defending you against … I’m 
fighting for you because … I fought to defend conservative/liberal 
values … defend our rural way of life …

“The Republicans are totalitarians …”

From reading this growing library of 
active verb flyers, one thinks House floor debate looks like fight night
 at a biker bar. My representative apparently was defending me against 
people I didn’t know were attacking me.&nbsp;

The flyer then gets to his or her 
monumental achievements in 2022. “Defending Traditional Values …” He or 
she voted for the Value Them Both Constitutional Amendment, ratification
 of which will be decided in our upcoming primary election. The 
amendment was drafted because the judicial branch swam in the pond of 
“judicial activism,” my rep opines.

Promoting fiscal responsibility is 
also on my state rep’s “achievements” list. He or she wants a cap on 
state spending by constitutional amendment. In other words, let a 
constitutional amendment say “no” to spending because lawmakers haven’t 
figured out how to say the word out loud.

I used to work in the Kansas House of
 Representatives as a staff member. Back then, it was pretty simple. At 
each of the 125 desks was a little box with red, green and white 
buttons. Red, no. Green, yes, and White was “I got no clue.”

I am blessed because I cannot be a 
state representative. Among my genes are those for red-green 
colorblindness. I would be voting “no clue” too many times.

Finally, my rep brags about 
supporting a Convention of States. Only 19 states have adopted the idea.
 The goal, he or she says, is to change the current Constitution to 
“impose fiscal restraints on the federal government.” Each state would 
send delegates to meet in convention and redo the federal Constitution.

Supporters want to amend Article I, 
§9 of the federal Constitution, which states, “No money shall be drawn 
from the Treasury, but in consequence of an appropriation made by Law.” 
The 34 white men of 1789 left Congress in charge of the budget. The 
Convention of States could make bitcoins our national currency and a 
constitutional provision that gasoline cannot be sold for more than 
$1.99 a gallon. It could help America advance to the rear.

Red state conservatives might believe
 they can impose fiscal restraints at a convention. But I fear blue 
state liberals will think they’ve just been handed the whole candy jar.

A little logrolling would be fun. “You let me have my amendment, I’ll vote for yours.”

<a target="_blank" href="https://www.amazon.com/s?k=thomas+sowell+biography&amp;adgrpid=1338106223687335&amp;hvadid=83631711218194&amp;hvbmt=be&amp;hvdev=c&amp;hvlocphy=49848&amp;hvnetw=o&amp;hvqmt=e&amp;hvtargid=kwd-83632001352680%3Aloc-190&amp;hydadcr=22563_10445501&amp;tag=mh0b-20&amp;ref=pd_sl_7zt8lix7h8_e">Thomas Sowell</a>
 reminds us how our pockets might get picked in a COS convention: “If 
you have been voting for politicians who promise to give you goodies at 
someone else’s expense, then you have no right to complain when they 
take your money and give it to someone else, including themselves.”

Sowell is prescient. The 2011 
Congressional Budget Control Act raised the debt limit by $2.1 trillion,
 and Congress then agreed to cut spending by the same amount. The first 
$917 billion of cuts came from caps on defense and non-defense 
discretionary spending. Then came the hard part. Congress couldn’t agree
 on how to cut the remaining $1.2 trillion since that meant looking at 
“social programs,” a<a target="_blank" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Third_rail_(politics)"> political third rail</a>.&nbsp;

With Russia blowing up Ukrainian cities, capping the defense budget in 2011 would have been imprudent today. As <a target="_blank" href="https://www.englishliterature.info/2022/03/fagin-character--oliver-twist.html">Fagin</a> sang in “Oliver Twist,” “I think they’d better think it out again!”

I’m unimpressed with active verb 
artist politicians who substitute catchy phrases for critical thinking. I
 prefer the lawmakers who are not chin-wagging as to what they are doing
 for us. Former Canadian prime minister Jean Chretien had a recipe for 
what to do when the opposition got nasty. He turned into a brick.

Sort of a <a target="_blank" href="https://ourwhitehouse.org/the-eloquence-of-silent-cal/">Calvin Coolidge</a>
 of the Northlands, Chretien said: “We don’t have to be in the damn 
paper every day. People don’t like it. They want to hear from us when 
it’s important. But not all the time. Silence is good.”

Maybe we’ll be lucky in November. Maybe the active verb artists will lose.

Ron Smith is a fifth-generation Kansan, a native of Manhattan, an attorney practicing in Larned, a grandfather several times over, a Vietnam veteran and a civil war historian. He has written a variety of historical articles about 19th century lawyers for the Journal of the Kansas Bar Association and a biography of Thomas Ewing Jr., the state’s first chief justice, published by the University of Missouri Press. His Civil War novel, “The Wastage” was released in 2018.

<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2022/6/1656436066139.png" alt="The Kansas House of Representatives meet for a special session in 2020. Sessions these days stretch for much longer than the past, writes Ron Smith. (Nick Krug for Kansas Reflector)" />
 <figcaption>The Kansas House of Representatives meet for a special session in 2020. Sessions these days stretch for much longer than the past, writes Ron Smith. (Nick Krug for Kansas Reflector)</figcaption>
 </figure>By RON SMITH <a href="https://kansasreflector.com/2022/06/28/in-electing-lawmakers-kansans-might-want-to-look-past-active-verb-artists/">Courtesy Kansas Reflector</a>True Story: The 2022 Kansas 
Legislature recessed in early April before coming back to a veto 
session. During the break, several legislators, the attorney general, 
and the governor decided to go on safari. While stretching their legs 
outside the jeep, a lion jumped out of the bushes and cornered the 
attorney general. The others scream at the governor to help him. She 
said, “The<a href="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/d/d0/Cowardly_Lion.png" target="_blank"> lion</a> got itself into this mess, it can get itself out.”That’s, well, sorta true. Maybe.Before 1964, farm folks were a 
majority of lawmakers in Kansas. Every county had its own state 
representative. The Legislature met for only 30- or 60-day sessions. 
Veto sessions were two-day affairs and considered only motions to 
override vetoes. At session’s end, everyone shook hands and went home in
 time to plant fall crops. My former senior partner, Glee Smith Jr., was
 president of the Kansas Senate in the late 1960s when the state changed
 from each county having its own representative to the “one person, one 
vote” concept.Now sessions are 120 days, with 
lengthy veto sessions in even-numbered years. Lawmaking takes a serious 
time commitment. That’s also why there are fewer businesspeople and 
professionals in the Legislature, and it is top-heavy with retired 
folks. The number of lobbyists has increased like rabbits in a prairie 
brothel. And the veto sessions not only consider vetoes and the freak 
bills lawmakers couldn’t decide on before the break — but they vote on 
the omnibus budget bill. Think Jabba the Hutt dining on greenbacks.&nbsp;<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2019/12/1575913663048.png" alt="" />
 <figcaption></figcaption>
 </figure>Modern campaigning has begun. You 
won’t see your local representative or senator at your door. You get 
flyers instead. They brag, “I did all these Good Things for You.” His or
 her identity isn’t important. Their flyers are out. They all are 
self-proclaimed heroes and heroines.Miss Bebermeier, my fifth-grade teacher, would say, “Oh my, look at all those active verbs!”My rep was “busy working on important
 legislation.” After the break, “I’ll be working on even more important 
legislation.” “Important” is not defined.“I represent every person in the 
district, not just those who voted for me.” Well, then it will be 
interesting to see why so many vote against him or her.I’m defending you against … I’m 
fighting for you because … I fought to defend conservative/liberal 
values … defend our rural way of life …“The Democrats are socialists …”“The Republicans are totalitarians …”From reading this growing library of 
active verb flyers, one thinks House floor debate looks like fight night
 at a biker bar. My representative apparently was defending me against 
people I didn’t know were attacking me.&nbsp;<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2022/6/1656436343641.png" alt="" />
 <figcaption></figcaption>
 </figure>The flyer then gets to his or her 
monumental achievements in 2022. “Defending Traditional Values …” He or 
she voted for the Value Them Both Constitutional Amendment, ratification
 of which will be decided in our upcoming primary election. The 
amendment was drafted because the judicial branch swam in the pond of 
“judicial activism,” my rep opines.Promoting fiscal responsibility is 
also on my state rep’s “achievements” list. He or she wants a cap on 
state spending by constitutional amendment. In other words, let a 
constitutional amendment say “no” to spending because lawmakers haven’t 
figured out how to say the word out loud.I used to work in the Kansas House of
 Representatives as a staff member. Back then, it was pretty simple. At 
each of the 125 desks was a little box with red, green and white 
buttons. Red, no. Green, yes, and White was “I got no clue.”The vote is called. Push a button.I am blessed because I cannot be a 
state representative. Among my genes are those for red-green 
colorblindness. I would be voting “no clue” too many times.Finally, my rep brags about 
supporting a Convention of States. Only 19 states have adopted the idea.
 The goal, he or she says, is to change the current Constitution to 
“impose fiscal restraints on the federal government.” Each state would 
send delegates to meet in convention and redo the federal Constitution.Supporters want to amend Article I, 
§9 of the federal Constitution, which states, “No money shall be drawn 
from the Treasury, but in consequence of an appropriation made by Law.” 
The 34 white men of 1789 left Congress in charge of the budget. The 
Convention of States could make bitcoins our national currency and a 
constitutional provision that gasoline cannot be sold for more than 
$1.99 a gallon. It could help America advance to the rear.Red state conservatives might believe
 they can impose fiscal restraints at a convention. But I fear blue 
state liberals will think they’ve just been handed the whole candy jar.A little logrolling would be fun. “You let me have my amendment, I’ll vote for yours.”<a target="_blank" href="https://www.amazon.com/s?k=thomas+sowell+biography&amp;adgrpid=1338106223687335&amp;hvadid=83631711218194&amp;hvbmt=be&amp;hvdev=c&amp;hvlocphy=49848&amp;hvnetw=o&amp;hvqmt=e&amp;hvtargid=kwd-83632001352680%3Aloc-190&amp;hydadcr=22563_10445501&amp;tag=mh0b-20&amp;ref=pd_sl_7zt8lix7h8_e">Thomas Sowell</a>
 reminds us how our pockets might get picked in a COS convention: “If 
you have been voting for politicians who promise to give you goodies at 
someone else’s expense, then you have no right to complain when they 
take your money and give it to someone else, including themselves.”Sowell is prescient. The 2011 
Congressional Budget Control Act raised the debt limit by $2.1 trillion,
 and Congress then agreed to cut spending by the same amount. The first 
$917 billion of cuts came from caps on defense and non-defense 
discretionary spending. Then came the hard part. Congress couldn’t agree
 on how to cut the remaining $1.2 trillion since that meant looking at 
“social programs,” a<a target="_blank" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Third_rail_(politics)"> political third rail</a>.&nbsp;With Russia blowing up Ukrainian cities, capping the defense budget in 2011 would have been imprudent today. As <a target="_blank" href="https://www.englishliterature.info/2022/03/fagin-character--oliver-twist.html">Fagin</a> sang in “Oliver Twist,” “I think they’d better think it out again!”I’m unimpressed with active verb 
artist politicians who substitute catchy phrases for critical thinking. I
 prefer the lawmakers who are not chin-wagging as to what they are doing
 for us. Former Canadian prime minister Jean Chretien had a recipe for 
what to do when the opposition got nasty. He turned into a brick.Sort of a <a target="_blank" href="https://ourwhitehouse.org/the-eloquence-of-silent-cal/">Calvin Coolidge</a>
 of the Northlands, Chretien said: “We don’t have to be in the damn 
paper every day. People don’t like it. They want to hear from us when 
it’s important. But not all the time. Silence is good.”Maybe we’ll be lucky in November. Maybe the active verb artists will lose.<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2022/6/1656436399186.png" alt="Screen Shot 2022-06-28 at 12.10.13 PM.png" />
 <figcaption>Screen Shot 2022-06-28 at 12.10.13 PM.png</figcaption>
 </figure>Ron Smith is a fifth-generation Kansan, a native of Manhattan, an attorney practicing in Larned, a grandfather several times over, a Vietnam veteran and a civil war historian. He has written a variety of historical articles about 19th century lawyers for the Journal of the Kansas Bar Association and a biography of Thomas Ewing Jr., the state’s first chief justice, published by the University of Missouri Press. His Civil War novel, “The Wastage” was released in 2018.

Opinion