On the beaten path

By GERIANNE WRIGHT
Staff Writer

OK, I’ll admit that I’m getting a bit long in the tooth. I haven’t been in Plattsburgh long enough to recognize items in the weekly “Look Back” column yet, but I’m getting close.

That still doesn’t make me eligible for membership in the AARP. According to the association’s Web site, membership is extended to “people age 50 and over in the United States” or, apparently, anyone who will pony up the $12.50 annual dues.

That’s not me. At least not yet, anyway, but AARP wants to hedge its bets and court me a few years early.

The other day I found their invitation to join in the mail. They had a card already made up with my name on it, and if I sent in the $12.50 dues, they’d replace it with an official membership card, which endows me with all the rights and privileges afforded the silver-haired set.

The only problem is, I’m not old enough to be in the AARP, so if I were to pony up and pay the dues, any time I’d flash that card I’d be getting benefits under false pretenses. I’d also be adding a few years on my age, and although I have no problem admitting I’m 47, I certainly have a problem admitting I’m three years older before I cross that threshold for real.

I have to admit, I still get a charge out of being proofed when buying wine, only to find out some establishments proof everyone as a matter of course. This last time I told the zygote proofing me that she didn’t have to burst my momentary bubble by telling me they proof everyone. I just wanted to drink in the intoxicating feeling of being flattered, even if it was short-lived and unearned.

I did not feel flattered or intoxicated at being asked to join an association for the retired set. I felt I might want to get intoxicated, but that’s not the same thing.

Unlike a lot of my contemporaries, I still have young children at home, one of whom is a very active 2-year-old. How can I be a card-carrying member of the AARP when I’m still carrying a diaper bag, and no, it’s not for Depends.

The AARP is a great organization that lobbies hard for its members and provides great member benefits. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll probably sign up when the time comes, if only to get better rates at hotels.

But seeing those initials with my name after them is hard to swallow, especially when my 2-year-old is running around underfoot. The organization would do better to wait until I was reaching my 60th birthday and then invite me to join as a 50-year-old.

That’s flattery I could sink my false teeth into.

Posted by Lois Clermont at 5:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

By JACK DOWNS
Design Editor

With winter reluctantly giving way to spring, I've been thinking about what our winters, and overall weather, will be like in the North Country over the next 10 and 20 years as global warming gradually but inexorably takes hold.

In some ways, we live a charmed weather life in our corner of the Northeast: tornadoes are very rare and seldom fatal; hurricanes peter out long before they get here; mud slides are almost unknown; avalanches are rare, remote and small; floods are isolated and usually well predicted. Sure, we have snow and cold, but we're ready for it.

But that charm may be wearing off.

Most experts agree that global warming has the potential to increase the number of severe weather events in our region.

Listen to what Joan Klaassen has to say on the topic. Klaassen, a meteorologist with Environment Canada, studies the climate future of southern Ontario and Quebec, which means she's talking about our future, too.

"What the climate-change scientists are telling us is that an extreme event that we see now, whether it is an ice storm, a heat wave or an extreme flooding event, could become twice as likely in the future climate and looking into the future, into 2050," Klaassen said last year on the award-winning CBC Radio science show "Quirks & Quarks."

Klaassen and 10 other scientists were interviewed as part of an eye-opening episode "Canada in 2050 - Our Future in a Changing Climate."

For more visit: http://www.cbc.ca/quirks/archives/07-08/nov24.html

I'm not predicting a summer of twisters and a winter of ice storms. But both those dangerous events will become more likely in the North Country over coming decades as more and more heat energy is added to the atmosphere.

So as winter melts away and memories of the Ice Storm of 1998 fade, I suggest you think about your emergency supplies of bottled water, canned food, candles and batteries.

The weather is changing.

Posted by Lois Clermont at 8:35 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By JOE LoTEMPLIO
Staff Writer

Well, I guess I’m probably not going to get my case of beer.

Yes, Eliot Spitzer owes me a case of beer going back 10 years.

The story stems from the 1998 election, when Spitzer was running for attorney general.

At the time, then-Plattsburgh Mayor Clyde Rabideau was running for lieutenant governor on the Democratic ticket, and I was covering his bid.

I traveled across the state with Rabideau on various occasions as he attended party functions and campaign events.

We often bumped into Spitzer, who was also on the campaign trail, and chatted about the news of the day.

In the brief time I got to know Spitzer, he was incredibly impressive. He talked a mile a minute, and his knowledge covered just about everything, which made him seem more like a regular guy rather than a blow-hard politician.

In one breath he could be ranting about state spending and the next he’d be describing how he cut his foot on one of his young daughter’s toys that was lying around the house.

With a young child of my own at the time, I certainly could relate.

When Spitzer came to Plattsburgh for a brief stop that spring, he met with then-Editor Jim Dynko and myself, and during that meeting he referred to incumbent Republican Attorney General Dennis Vacco as the “Jerry Springer” of law enforcement.

An ironic comment now for sure.

At the time, it was harsh criticism, and papers across the state picked up the story.

A few days later, a Spitzer campaign staffer called me and asked if they could use my story in their campaign brochures.

I said, “Sure, for a case of beer.”

I was kidding but was kind of surprised when the flak excitedly agreed to the deal as if he just got a whale of a bargain.

A few weeks later, at the Democratic Party convention in Rye, Spitzer had the hotel room across the hall from me.

As I was entering my room late one afternoon, he stepped out into the hallway from his room.

When I saw him, I reminded him that he owed me a case of beer. He had no idea of what I was talking about, of course, and joked that it should be a case of scotch instead.

Not minding the upgrade, I agreed wholeheartedly with a wink and a nod.

Spitzer, as we know, went on to get elected attorney general and began his rising political career.

From time to time, he would visit the Press-Republican for Editorial Board meetings and I would always kiddingly remind Marc Violette, Spitzer’s press man, about my expected bounty.

Spitzer would laugh it off when we met, saying was still trying to figure out a way to get my beer.

I was surprised when he remembered again when he was last here a few months ago.

In the wake of all that has happened to the former governor this week, I am willing to forgive his debt and let him keep the brew.

These days, he certainly might benefit from it more than I could.

Posted by Lois Clermont at 1:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

By JACK DOWNS
Design Editor

Here are two news tidbits for you:

Some of the big investment banks are downgrading coal-company stocks, predicting a long-range slump in the carbon-heavy industry.

New York is trying to decide how many miles of snowmobile trails to allow on state land in the Adirondack Park.

Random headlines? Maybe not. For me, these two stories converge on a question: How should we _ as individuals, families and society _ invest in the future of outdoor recreation?

Right now, our answers are full of contradictions.

We bemoan the obesity epidemic, yet when we build boat launches with public funds we only think about power boats and make no provisions for kayaks and canoes.

We are rightly concerned about the now irrefutable impacts of global warming, yet we promote the energy-intensive downhill-ski industry with state-sponsored tourism marketing.

We worry about the impact of air pollution on children with asthma, yet we push for ATV trails on public lands.

For me the answer is clear. The future of outdoor recreation is green. As individuals, families and society, it is time for us to choose healthy, environmentally defensible recreation over motor sports and energy-gorging pastimes.

No, I don't want to ban snowmobiles or outlaw personal watercraft. I just want us to consider our decisions and thoughtfully move in the right direction.

On a personal level, be conscious of how your recreation decisions impact your health, your family's health, your planet's health. Bird watching is better for you, and all of us, than NASCAR watching.

And on a societal level, putting our tourism and development efforts into energy-intensive recreation is like opening a Hummer factory as the price of gas hits $4 a gallon.

There's no future in it.

Now, before all you ATVing, snowmobiling, motorcycling, powerboaters push the send button on that e-mail about your new fuel-efficient and emissions-reduced engines, step back and consider: How does your ATV compare in insurance costs to hiking boots. How does your dirt bike compare in carbon footprints to a mountain bike? How does your personal watercraft compare in noise output to a canoe?

Answer me that.

Posted by Lois Clermont at 12:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By ANDREA VANVALKENBURG
Staff Writer

PLATTSBURGH — And I thought I knew what being a state trooper was all about.

I knew law-enforcement was a dangerous, yet much-needed job, one that brings authorities into a daily world of uncertainty — tumultuous situations, abrupt violence, car accidents, traffic stops and the potential for danger around almost every corner.

I knew state troopers serve and protect.

I knew they would go out of their way to lend a helping hand to those in need.

But come to find out, there was a lot I didn’t know, or fully realize at least, and I’m sure there’s still plenty I don’t.

After spending a few hours at the Plattsburgh State Police Barracks recently, I left with a bigger respect for the men and women in the gray and purple uniforms.

They are fathers and mothers, community volunteers and military veterans, trusted friends and husbands and wives who have devoted themselves to protect their community, even if it means risking their safety and potentially their lives.

I never fully realized the daily life and routine of troopers, officials, investigators and dispatchers until I had a brief glimpse into their world, one that changes in an instant and is marked by seemingly constant crisis and service.

Seeing the dispatchers man the communications center, with a steady flow of calls, visits and inquiries exhausted me. And I was only watching them.

In the limited time that I was there, the icy roads sent numerous drivers off the roads, into trees and other vehicles. So troopers were dispatched.

They aided drivers, waited for wrecker crews and directed traffic.
In the meantime, an alleged drug offender was in custody being processed.

Investigators were rushing around handling a heavy caseload.
Something had to be transported to headquarters, so in came another trooper. But another accident sent him back out on yet another call.

Two people stopped by for employment fingerprinting.

One man needed to drop something off.

Another walked in after falling on ice, wanting to make sure that highway crews take care of a slippery walkway.

Then there were a few calls about the weather.

There were complaints about a bad check and an area hotel reporting damaged property.

Then the next mission. Locating someone who was about the flee the area. Check the bus station and a friend’s house.

There were calls about a domestic incident in progress. A few more were dispatched out. They had just returned.

With each complaint and call, the dispatchers somehow remained calm and handled the action with surprising ease.

They were sitting, standing and bustling around the station: logging each call, giving messages, making appointments for routine patrol-vehicle maintenance, printing out reports, calling towing crews, calming frantic callers, confirming information and dispatching troopers in and out.

And I thought I had busy days at work.

As I was about to leave, I was talking with the dispatchers about how unbelievably busy they were.

Their response?

This is just an average day; you should see when it’s really busy.

I think the brief glimpse into their daily life surprised me more than anything.

There’s always someone to help and something they need to do.

And to each of them — the troopers, dispatchers, investigators and officials — a heartfelt thanks for everything you do every day.

It’s something that I never fully realized and something I will never forget.

Posted by Lois Clermont at 8:38 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)