John King of CNN, and Callista and Newt Gingrich. Image from last fall, a college appearance in South Carolina. From cisternyard.com at College of Charleston, their photo credit was: (Colin Johnson/GSO)

As a journalism professor, I’m more than a bit conflicted.

John King, CNN’s debate moderator, opened last Thursday’s debate with a question based on an ABC news interview of Newt Gingrich’s second wife, in which she alleges he asked for an open marriage.

Ewwwww.

King’ s question was really rather mild. He could have asked: “Why have you repeatedly claimed the Republican Party is the party of ‘traditional marriage’ while you ended both of your first two marriages with affairs while your wives were ill?” Or: “If your first or second wife can’t trust you, how can America trust you?”

No, what King asked, after a setup briefly describing the ABC intervew, was: “Would you like to take some time to respond to that?”

And Newt went all Newtron Bomb on him. To the raucous cheers of the GOP crowd, Newt sealed his fate as the winner in South Carolina with a spirited and forceful defense.

In which, by the way, I think he lied at least twice. Once, when he claimed his campaign had repeatedly contacted ABC News with Friends of Newt whom they should interview (the ABC Nightline host has since said that only the two daughters were offered, and yes, I trust the host of Nightline more than I trust Newt Gingrich). The second time wasn’t necessarily a lie, but if it wasn’t a lie it was both creepy and odd. In his bombastic tirade against the low taste level and “despicable” behavior of the American media, Newt said that many of his friends from that time period could have told ABC News that the second wife was lying.

Wow.

Call me old fashioned, but if I decided to ask Audrey if it would be OK if I slept with, oh, I don’t know, Pink or someone, I can’t imagine any of my friends being able to confirm or deny her version of the conversation. Certain spouse-with-spouse conversations are usually not open to anybody, including friends. Or kids, for that matter—Newt using his daughters as his surrogates to defend his martial record also seemed, well, a bit odd to me.

Newt lecturing anybody on proper manners or what ought to be discussed is a bit rich.

But, on the other hand, I’m oddly finding myself in some agreement with The Gingrich. He made a valid point.

Should the marital issue be a factor in the campaign? Should ABC be interviewing ex-wives of candidates? Should it be the lead question in a debate?

John King says he was just doing his job. But a criticism of the media, a valid one in my book, is that in an election it focuses too much of its attention on two things: 1) The horse race (who is ahead and why) and 2) The personal characteristics and lives of the candidates.

Both are easy to focus on, because they let the press duck the harder job of tackling dull policy matters.

Newt, the press is not protecting Barack Obama. The press is questioning your ex-wives because it can and it makes for good TV. But should it?

Then again (there are more than two hands in this debate), Newt, along with most Republican candidates, makes a lot of noise about protecting the traditional family and traditional marriage. And frankly he has poor standing to do so. Yes, I’m a Christian and I believe in redemption too, but come one. Two divorces to wives who had just fallen ill when you deliver the news? As Jon Stewart said, “first, I’m going to be sick. And then Newt will leave me.” This is Mr. Protect American Family?

The whole thing depresses me. I feel the same way about Bill Clinton, by the way. The playboy Prez lost a lot of standing in my eyes during the Lewinsky scandal, and I’m not able to just “move on.”

And yet ….

How many past presidents, even great ones, were known for marital fidelity? Kennedy? Eisenhower? Roosevelt? Reagan had been divorced. Granted, not all presidents have been randy, but randiness doesn’t seem to be associated with incompetence in government. And to the extent that it doesn’t interfere with a President’s performance of his or her public duties, whose business is the whole question of presidential sexuality anyway?

And another thing: This whole event was staged theater. When he’s not quoting “The New York Times” as his source for any fact, Gingrich is consistently trashing the “liberal” media for favoring Obama. It’s part of the Republican shtick. I don’t think the “media elites” live on a different planet, and I don’t think they are as clearly biased as Gingrich would claim, but railing against the media is red meat to a GOP audience. I think it’s mostly blaming the messenger because conservatives don’t like many aspects of society that are presented and reflected in the media.

Would I have asked the question? Not in that form, I don’t think. Was it a fit question? In context, it was almost inevitable, and Newt was clearly ready to respond—quite effectively. I think he’s a pompous, egotistical, dangerous gasbag, but he’s right that he’d be a good debater against Barack Obama. Of course, we need to elect a President, not a Debater-In-Chief, but that’s another topic.

Whatever you can say about Newt, and frankly, the attack ads were right, he’s got more baggage than KLM, he is a fighter. And he had a point. What a strange question to open a presidential debate on.

Tristan enjoyed seeing water in Dry Creek under the C Avenue bridge. "Walk Water" was the phrase of the day.

Had a great day with Mr. T, as you can tell. He’s quite the outdoorsman, or outdoorsboy.

Katy said that when he learned he was going to spend part of the day with his “Joe,” he immediately assumed he would be going for a bike ride. I don’t think he was too disappointed that we didn’t fit a bike ride in, after all. We got to sled, walk around in snow (or be carried sometimes, but only he was carried), watch water flow by in the steam, toss snowballs (actually, only he tossed, I served as target) and in general just enjoy a fine winter day together.

We played as Audrey and Nikayla shopped, then met them for lunch at Burger King (mostly due to nice indoor play area) and, after reading several books, took a 2 hour nap.

Almost the perfect day. If we had been able to ride a bike, that would have made it perfect.  Some photos of Nikayla in her new dresses below, more photos on Facebook.

A tiny spruce tree, caged against rabbits, in my backyard. The long shadow looks a little somber, but the snow has pretty sparkles and the spruce is green--light is returning to this area of planet Earth!

We had our weird warm weather earlier this month, but there’s a few inches of snow on the ground in Iowa now. We’re back to winter.

Not deep in winter, however. When Simon and Garfunkel wanted to sing about young adult angst, their depressing image was “a winter’s day, in a deep and dark December.” I’m sure the alliteration with December sounded better, and I’ve said before that February only has 28 or 29 days because nobody in the Midwest could stand any more, but then again, let’s face it. The middle of January is the start of the downhill slide. It’s definitely getting lighter, and while weeks of cold lie ahead, we’re fast approaching the time when “average” temperatures start to go up and winter starts to lose its hold on the Northern Hemisphere.

So it was a cool, in the 20s, morning on a mostly sunny day, when much of the snow on the pavement is bound to melt that I took camera in hand to try to catch some of the birds at my feeders outside.

I missed some of what I wanted to catch. There was a Mr. and Mrs. Cardinal hanging around this morning, but they were long gone by the time I got outside. There were also a pair of squirrels sharing the spilled seeds (none too easily, they didn’t behave at all like rodent friends), but they had run off long before I arrived on the scene.

Some sparrows were at the feeders.

Still, in the maple and redbud buds, in the tiny baby evergreen in the snow, in the frond of last year’s fern, in the energy of the flocks that were fighting for food at the feeders—well, somehow, I felt pretty springy.

Yeah, the groundhog has not checked his shadow and spring doesn’t start in Iowa until later in March anyway. But two months from now is mid-March. It could be that crocus may be blooming.

So I did enjoy capturing some Jan. 15 morning light pictures.  Click the link to see more on Flickr.

Happy dreams of spring!

Garden gnomes on my office windowsill are poised with gardening tools, as snow falls outside.

Yes, in my most recent post, I “asked” for snow.

No, any of you haters out there, that doesn’t make it my fault. We’re having a good old fashioned Iowa snowstorm today—3 or 4 inches of snow whipped by 25-35 mph winds.

No a blizzard, by Iowa standards. In fact, it is what we in Iowa would call “normal” for a winter day. But today is still a bit of a shock to the system because it follows sunny days in the 50s.

I’ll have to buy some gasoline and break out the snow blower. I’m in my “snow blower” years now, having left behind the strong-back shoveling years, although I’m not done shoveling by any means, given steps, porches, back deck, etc.

And today is one of those “tunnel” days at MMU—when it’s good to be able to get from building to building beneath ground.

I’ll wait to see if the Times staff took any snow (or warm weather) photos. This snow is only newsworthy because it’s the first significant snowfall pretty late in the winter. I know, I know, I wanted snow, and frankly it doesn’t bum me out too much.

A Midwestern gardener respects winter and recognizes it’s necessary for the healthy cycle of life for my most esteemed and pretty plants. The crocus and lilac and crabapple need their cold sleep time. Iowa is the breadbasket of the world partly due to its winter—it knocks down the rodents and insects that would otherwise feast more greedily on the food we grow for ourselves (well, really, in Iowa we grow it to make sweeteners or to feed to pigs before we eat it, but nevertheless …).

So, let it snow. It’s January.

Yet, of course, I can still dream of the sweet spring to come. If I’m lucky, maybe some flower catalogs will be in the mail, today. I call it “plant porn,” and I’m ready for a few pretty pictures of plants yet to bloom.

The bush outside my window. It's not a great picture, but I like that you can see the snow falling and that the screen on my window gives this a "cloth" effect.

Bugs are around. The last shall be first in the bug world, and when you see box elders and flies, it’s usually a sign of spring.

I’m warm in a sweater and t-shirt. (Yes, and pants too).

It feels bad to work, the sun is shining so brightly in an azure sky. It’s that May funk that arrives each year, when gainful employment seems like an abomination against nature … except that the funk is in January.

I rode my bike to work today, of course. If I got off at a decent time, any time before 4, I’m not sure how long it would take to get home—might go home via Ely, passing all the way down the Hoover trail before turning Old Blackie north.

Sadly, I have bell practice at 5 and won’t get out until 6—and it will be dark.

But probably still warm.

I know that cold weather is on its way. Single digit lows are due later this week. There’s a lot more winter left in Iowa.

Then again, we haven’t had much winter yet to speak of.

As a gardener, that’s a little problematic. I recall how persistent the snow cover was last year, and how glorious the spring was when it arrived—the melting snow made the ground nice and moist and all the bulbs planted in fall 2010 were quite happy in spring 2011.

So, yeah, I’m one of THOSE people. I wouldn’t mind a couple inches of white stuff that sticks around a while.

That would show the box elders who’s warm blooded and who’s not.

But, I can’t maintain my garden Grinching for long. It’s too nice out. Just wish I was out there and not in here …

Wednesday update:  Yes, I got out of that place, if it was the last thing I ever did.  Resulting park scenes and more bug photos from MMU:

And they raise the question: Are the number of debates inversely proportional to the strength of a field of candidates? Romney is sure that American is inches away from losing free enterprise, Rick Perry outright labeled President Obama a socialists, and I’m left wondering about the weird, alternate universe that these candidates inhabit.

Check Politifact.com or Factcheck.org. Both Perry and Romney were pants-on-fire liars, and not for the first time.

Meanwhile, New Gingrich has become the defender of Christian-Catholic morality.

I may be ill.

What are my impressions of the debate? Here are a few snapshots:

• Jon Huntsman doesn’t stand a chance. He’s not looney enough for the modern GOP. Any man who speaks Mandarin during a debate has lost the right wing right there.

• Newt is mad. Mad as hell. Mad as a wet hen. Mad as a hatter. And his campaign isn’t going anywhere.

• Rick Santorum is still on the rise. His scheduled implosion date has already passed, and he’s still around. He may be “the one” that the “anybody but Romney” crowd crowds around. And if the GOP nominates him, Obama is virtually assured of a second term.

• Rick Perry, please stop. Your campaign ended in Iowa. You keep repeating the same cheap lines whenever anybody makes the mistake of asking you a question, and you’re becoming a painful spectacle. If you play well in South Carolina, that state should secede.

• Ron Paul is starting to really grate on my nerves. Everybody else is a corrupt hypocrite, and only he knows the meaning of freedom. He’s rapidly going from cute older gentlemen to village crackpot who yells at everyone who passes by: “Read the F***** constitution, and stay off my lawn!”

• Mitt? I want him to dye his hair blond and spike it. Just for fun. He’s probably already the GOP nominee, but it’s not because Everybody Loves Romney. It’s easy to stand tall in a field of midgets.

Well, maybe I’m just too grumpy because I’m teaching a class on Media and Voters. The students don’t seem as cynical as I am, and that is refreshing.

Hours after seeing the Meet the Depressing Candidates Debate, I was playing bells with the MMU Handbell Hellraisers (still want a catchy name) at an Epiphany concert. The concert was a nice break, a change of pace.

Bells on the peformance table at St. Pius X church where concert took place. Shiney.

It featured many of the Christmas songs I like and none that I hate. No Drummer Boy, for example, and I know it’s sappy, but I almost always like any performance of “Breath of Heaven.” We played Ding Dong Merrily On High and The Holly and the Ivy. I was hopelessly lost several times during warm-ups, but mostly stayed with the group during performance, even when I had to play an A chime on beat four and mallet and A bell on beat one of the next measure.

It got me away from Google News for a time, and for that I’m grateful. Now, if Ron could start being happy again, Newt learn to crack a few jokes, Mitt spike his hair, Jon mumble some more Mandarin and the Ricks just fade away, it can get to be a more interesting campaign season.

The gumball from a Sweet Gum tree, photographed in my office. It's not so bad. Just picture it with 100,000 siblings...

It’s too early to tell which, if any, of the 10 baby Arbor Day Foundation trees in my home office will survive and make it into the ground.

But one of them is a Sweet Gum Tree.  My sister Anne pointed out that this kind of tree has obnoxious, spiky seed pods.

But, since I’m not familiar with the tree, I wondered, how spiky?  How obnoxious?

Does it make one viscerally recoil on sight, a veritable monster of a tree byproduct, something that produces an automatic and unconscious fight or flight response?  Like Michele Bachmann or Sarah Palin?

Like a walnut, is it prone to offensive messes—the Rick Perry of tree reproduction?

Is it merely unpleasant and tiresome, like Newt Gingrich?

Is it just boring and bland?  Is it the Mitt Romney of tree sex?

Does it look pleasant enough at first, but the more you examine it, the more horrifying it becomes?  Like Ron Paul or Rick Santorum?

I could not tell from Google photos.  But, then I noticed something odd on the bike ride into work today—a bunch of seed balls laying in the gutter next to a tall tree that itself still bore some of its gum balls on its branches.

Just as I had been totally unaware of the existence of the Catalpa Tree until I encountered one in Cedar Rapids, I had been unaware that I pass by a Sweet Gum tree every day, I just did not see it.  Like Jon Huntsman.

Anyway, I picked up one of the balls and took it to work to photograph it for my blog, of course.  You can’t do that with Rick Perry, not that you would want to.  Anyway, on a one-on-one basis, the seed pod isn’t so bad.  It’s barely bigger than a quarter, its spikes are not very sharp and it doesn’t stain anything.

But, you don’t find one of these spiky balls near a Sweet Gum tree.  Like Bill Clinton or Katy Perry (giving the GOP a little break), this is one sex-obsessed form of life.  You find thousands of seed balls near a Sweet Gum tree.

Clearly, if the lone Sweet Gum tree survives, it cannot be planted near the sandbox.  Probably not in the backyard at all.  Maybe in the front?

I’m sure Audrey wouldn’t agree.  But she won’t plant it, either.  I already have a Hawthorne there.  It can be the grove of cute, but potentially obnoxious trees.  Like Joe Biden.

Saw a lot of beaver damage on the Cedar River trail on the way home. Cut off close to the ground, like Michele Bachmann's campaign.

Gazette Newsroom, doubled as second TV studio, too, on caucus night. That's a U of I professor surfing, which is what I was doing, too.

Who would have thought it?

It’s 10:05 p.m. and Jefferson County is the biggest one with no votes counted. Will it tip Iowa to Mitt Romney? Rick Santorum?

I spent caucus night in the newroom of The Gazette, acting as an on-line and on-TV “expert” of sorts. I hope I sounded OK. It’s been fun and I wouldn’t mind a chance to do this sort of thing again.

The caucus results themselves are a bit of a surprise. Based on the kinds of things he’s said in the past, I don’t think Rick Santorum is going to play that well after Iowa, so if he pulls out a win (and even if he only comes in second, he has pulled out a win), he won’t be in the race in the long run. The Mike Huckabee of 2012.

A less likeable Mike Huckabee. Not sure Fox will be offering him an on-air deal soon.

Anyway, Iowa doesn’t really picked the nominee anyway, it just eliminates thet candidates who hang on, hoping for a miracle that doesn’t come. Sorry Michelle.

And the other Rick says the race is a marathon, but frankly I think he’s been done for a while.

So, on to New Hampshire. And while it was fun, I’m glad my TV time is drawing to an end. Any of you that caught the act on TV or online, what did you think?

Leaping into leap year. Tristan hops over his mom. Yes, I'm sure grandchildren (and plants) will continue to be features of this blog in 2012.

I’m not really big on New Year’s resolutions. Not that I’ don’t buy into the ideal of self improvement or making changes for the better, but the whole New Year’s thing is so artificial anyway.

We celebrate an arbitrary day when the sun’s tilt on the horizon is frankly not at any astronomically significant point. We’re past a solstice, long away from an equinox, and thus we are noting another orbit from a really odd point in the planet’s journey.

So be it. Rather than make any general life resolutions, what do I resolve for this blog?

• I will update at least twice a week. That’s an easy one, since I’m pretty much on that pace anyway. I absolve myself in advance for any travel weeks—the week in March I plan to spend in England, or if I do RAGBRAI again this year, don’t count—but otherwise I’ll share my life’s journey at least twice a week. Last year, WordPress tried to encourage daily updates, but I didn’t’ attempt that in 2011 and won’t in 2012. But I won’t let the blog languish, either.

• I will crack 12,000 views in 2012. Not a lofty goal—plenty of bloggers have tens of thousands of views each month—but I had more views in 2011 than in 2010, and have had just over 9,000 this year so far. Unless there is a huge spike, I won’t make 10,000 this year. Next year, let’s see if I can get 12,000.

• I will leave Sarah Palin out of it. Unless Mitt Romney picks her as his running mate, I think her moment in the sun, which lasted surprisingly long, is starting to pass. Let it go.

• I will write one blog post in Spanish. Just for Nalena. And I promise it won’t be about bananas. I have to work up to that one. I hope to take another Spanish course at MMU, probably in fall 2012, and will try to write something in Spanish that makes sense. I’m sure in the years since I took a Spanish course my skills have rusted, but on the other hand, there’s still some Spanish lurking in my skull and I’ll try to shake some out.

Anyway, I hope I can at some point in 2012 make you laugh, make you mad, make you glad that you share this journey on planet Earth. I started this blog as an experiment just to see what blogging is like and for.

I guess I feel that the experiment is worth continuing. And I hope some of you, my readers, agree.

Jon takes Boxing Day portrait of Nikayla, Nina and Amelia.

This Christmas, I thought a lot about Amanda and Ben, a third of the way around the globe this holiday season. I’m glad that Ben went over there, and Amanda wrote a cute blog post that describes her Christmas experience.

Christmas this year in Iowa was nice. We had a big gathering Christmas Eve, Mass Christmas morning and a spades tourney between Audrey, Jon, Nalena and I that ended badly for the Joe and Audrey team.

Jon and Nalena got Audrey and me our own Kindles, so I can finally read the Brothers Karamazov, a book I had started and lost. Sadly, I don’t think “Love in the Time of Cholera” will be as easy to get on Kindle, but many books will be—and you can borrow library books via Kindle, something I’ll look forward to learning to do.

Audrey got me a bunch of bike stuff that I wrote about on my other blog. And a field guide to birds of Iowa, which I am already using on the crowds of feathered frenzied feeders attracted to the seed supply in my back yard.

It was particularly nice to have Jon and Nalena here form Seattle, and Nina took a few day s off of her job in Omaha, which made for a nice visit of several days.

The family gathered in a planned reunion on Christmas Eve, and a more spontaneous gathering on Boxing Day. The season featured a fun fete at Cate’s for many Shellers, and the Schultz gathering is still coming up.

And Jon got our office computer working and made pumpkin ice cream, too.

All in all, a very Merry Christmas. Hope your day was merry and bright even if, like Iowa, your Christmas was brown instead of white!