Are you ready for some football?

With the end of summer comes a new season full of potential. No, I'm not talking about Autumn. I'm talking about football season—but you knew that, right?

Growing up, college football season was surpassed only by Christmas in terms of importance within our family. It was a time to pull out the team shirts and flags for the house, and support our teams through thick and thin. Now you might be thinking that these items were purple and gold, but I wasn't raised in Louisiana. I grew up in Arkansas. But don't think for a minute that “Woo Pig Sooie” was yelled in our house. My mother was a proud graduate of the University of Alamaba—the reigning National Champions. I grew up cheering Roll Tide and at a young age knew who Bear Bryant was.

If you notice, I used the word ‘teams’ with an 's' at the end. My younger sister, being a defiant child, gravitated toward Arkansas and the Hogs. All of her friends were Razorback fans so she was, too. But it gets even better. My grandmother and grandfather, who lived in the house behind us, were graduates of Georgia and Vanderbilt respectively. Our house was booming with SEC Pride. This did cause a few Saturday night dinners to be a little on the quiet side. But silent treatment or not, I loved the atmosphere that was college football season in our house. There is nothing like a little rivalry to bring a family together.

As I grew older and began to visit colleges and consider which one I would eventually enroll in for school, I began cheering for a new team—the Louisiana Tech Bulldogs. Though they aren't an SEC school and, well, they don't even belong to a major conference—I was going to support my Dawgs through it all. I mean, if my grandfather who says his team can't beat the girls' school for the blind can still be a proud Commodore then I, too, can do the same for the Bulldogs.

Speaking of cheering for a team that has a tradition of losing, my husband is a die-hard Saints fan and has been all 26 years of his life. I didn't even like professional football when we met 7 years ago—I was one of those people who watched the Super Bowl for the commercials. He soon converted me. Mind you, this was still the 2003 and 2004 seasons when I first started liking the Saints. I'm not a bandwagon fan.

This season I will attend my first-ever Saints game. Not only will I get to experience the Super Dome on a Sunday afternoon, but as our anniversary present to ourselves, Husband and I have bought our tickets to spend Thanksgiving day in Dallas cheering on New Orleans. I have been so excited about this trip that I have already planned our tailgate menu. It's going to be a great season for the Cobbs.

This past Thursday marked the official beginning of autumn and, yes, that is supposed to mean cooler weather; but for me it means Saturdays and Sundays—with the occasional Thursday night, Friday night, or Monday night—watching football, watching my favorite pregame show on Sundays, helping Husband with his fantasy football teams, and making tailgating plans. It means calling my mom on Saturday night to congratulate her and her Tide on a victory and ask how my grandfather is taking yet another Vandy loss (though they did win their last game). It means wearing Blue on Saturdays and Black and Gold on Sundays. It means friendly trash talk with friends from all over and a little bit of gloating after a successful weekend. From the first kickoff at the beginning of September—or end of August, depending on the year—to just after the last second has ticked off the game clock on Super Bowl Sunday in February, it's all about football.

~Rachel

Firecracker Fun

Fourth of July was another fun-filled holiday weekend that many of us enjoyed as three days off. This year I participated for the first time in the Firecracker 5K. Although I in no way consider myself a runner, I did enjoy the goings on surrounding it. Before the firecracker goes off signaling the start of the race, it is apparently tradition for everyone gathered at the starting line to bounce around an assortment of beach balls and smaller plastic balls. Though I realized that this was going on, I was still humored by the fact some people were oblivious to it and managed to inadvertently get their heads in the way. Many would get a “what was that” look on their faces afterward.

It was also fun encountering the varying array of costumes—or race attire—worn by many of the racers. Some very serious runners looked the part; those who were less serious looked their part as well. And then there were some...well, I’m just not sure what they were doing. As I traversed the course with my race partner there were several people standing along the sides cheering you on and even some offering frozen pop-ice or water. A few had their sprinklers set up for the racers to run through to cool off a bit. I gladly took advantage of these benefits. Tents were set up post race with refreshment and food choices to help the runners recover. This, too, I took gladly took advantage of. Overall I enjoyed the morning and look forward to doing it again next year. The t-shirt designed for the event was nice, too.

Sunday, July 4, I had planned a trip to Natchitoches with my parents. After church we drove down to check out the activities, only to find out that most of the Front Street businesses were closed. We ate at the one restaurant that was open and looked through the available stores, then drove down to see a few of the plantation homes. My parents had never been to Natchitoches so all the closures were a bit disappointing. There was a fireworks show to begin at 9:30 on the river, but after driving to the plantations we still had three hours to kill and decided just to head back to Shreveport. I was disappointed not to be able to photograph some of the fireworks along the river but was met with one of the best sunsets I have seen in a while. It turned out to be an even better show than the fireworks. Overall my holiday was fun; I hope the same was true for you!

~Jerry

He's My Pop

It is almost Father’s Day again. It’s a special day for me because I have such a great dad, or “Pop”—as my daughter and I call him. I want to begin by saying that I feel sorrow for all those who don’t have a father, and for those who have one who isn’t really that great. I sincerely think I have the best dad one could have and I know there are a lot of you out there that feel the same as I do—and that’s an awesome thing.

This is one of many great dad stories I have; I clearly remember this one—it stands out as one of my better ones. I was in my second year of college and had just broken up with my girlfriend. Homework and my work/study job were getting real sour and I had lost my starting position on the baseball team. This was all happening in the same week. Well, I have to admit that baseball was at the top of the ladder for importance and I was really down. Baseball was the reason I was at this school in Fort Smith, Arkansas. So, I called my Pop and he listened to me and said that he was going to take off that Friday and stay the weekend with me and we would talk it through. Wow—I really was relieved to hear that. And I was not looking forward to seeing him go that Sunday. He drove 10 hours round trip to ease my pain and to give me some pointers. That Friday I almost packed it up. I was about to call him to tell him I was coming home and not to come because I had quit. It didn’t happen because when I spoke to him I felt relief to hear his voice, and I felt that things were going to be alright. He gave some advice, but he mainly listened and comforted me that weekend. Because of my Pop, I wound up staying and everything worked out. I made the ‘B’ honor roll and got my baseball starting position back, leading the team in hitting and making the All Region Team. I didn’t get another girlfriend that year, but two out of three ain’t bad.

I wouldn’t trade anything for Pop; I hope I can be as good to my daughter as he is to me. If I’m just half the dad he is it would be a blessing for her. I’m glad she is getting to know him and love him like I do. He is one of a kind. He’s my Pop and I love him so much.

~Zane

Oh, will my garden grow?

Right about this time last year, Grace wrote a fantastic blog about her garden. She has quite the green thumb and her gardens always bear amazing vegetables. Her talk of fresh this and ripe that made me want a garden of my own.

My husband and I have talked about planting a small garden in our backyard for a few years now. We had the spot picked out and talked about what we would plant, but that was pretty much as far as it got—until this year. I came home one day to find my husband and children planting seeds in a little starter kit. They were planting corn, spinach, carrots, watermelon, tomatoes, sweet peppers, bell peppers, and sunflowers, because Mommy loves sunflowers! They nestled all of the seeds in their little dirt beds and put the plastic lids on. We put them under a window with plenty of light and began waiting for results.

The results came much sooner than we expected. By day two we had sprouts. The corn and sunflowers took off. After only a few days we had to adjust the plastic lids because the plants were starting to bend over since they were getting so tall. They really needed to be put in the ground, but we weren’t going to have time for transplanting for a few more days. After about a week, my husband rented a tiller and broke ground on the spot we had picked out. He made the little rows and we all began to plant our tiny seedlings. The kids enjoyed the first 15 minutes or so, but soon realized that playing frisbee was much more fun. We got everything planted, drenched it in Miracle Grow, and crossed our fingers. We figured if we were able to eat one vegetable from our garden we would deem it a success.

Well it seems that we know even less about gardening than we thought. Apparently you have to plant the corn in rows beside each other so they will pollinate. Pollinate? I had no idea that corn pollinates. I think we got lucky and few wound up close together. Several of the ones that began in the starter kit immediately wilted and died. We had a few seeds left, so my husband just stuck those in the ground.

None of the sunflowers made it, so I planted a few in a pot on the front steps of the house and they are doing great. We didn’t mark what everything was, but I think the carrots have bitten the dust as well.

It isn’t a complete bust, though. The tomatoes, peppers, and spinach are doing great. The newly planted corn seeds are growing up strong and we noticed a couple of watermelon vines creeping out as well. There may be hope for our garden yet.

We, and by “we” I mean my husband, will have to work to stay on top of the weeding. And we need to keep the Miracle Grow flowing. My neighbor mentioned how much trouble he had with squirrels when he tried to plant his garden. Squirrels!!! Surely the squirrels won’t eat my veggies. I always take up for them when people call them rodents. I think they are precious. I even put out food for them last year. I can’t imagine my squirrels wrecking my garden! But to be on the realistic side, I should probably do a little homework and see if there are ways to deter them. As much as I know they like me, I’m sure it is every squirrel for himself. I am trying to take photos to document our first garden and I am anxiously awaiting that first ripe veggie. Since there is more green in the garden now, we have raised our expectations a little bit and are now hoping for at least five veggies that we can eat. I will keep you posted.

~Raydra

MORE THAN JUST COPIES

By Kay Gunderson/Insty-Prints of Rochester

It is so important as a business to get your name out in the world. You need to be able to attract new customers as well as keep your client base coming back for more. Marketing and advertising can be a confusing adventure to navigate. Having a plan and the right tools can put you on the effective path to success. There are 5 things that we, Insty-Prints of Rochester, do in order to take care of that crucial task of getting your name out there.

Large Format
One of the fastest growing areas of our business is the large format department. These are things like posters, signs, and banners. It’s a great way to catch somebody’s eye and give them your message. Some of the newest products that we’ve used is window screen & wall noodle. Window screen is an inventive way to get a colorful graphic on your window and still be able to see out. We use this on our front lobby windows as well as our delivery van windows. My other favorite product is the wall noodle. This can be printed on and stuck to the wall or floor in a variety of shapes and sizes.

Logo & Brand Identity
I’m always surprised at our customers who don’t have a logo or identity to their company. A well designed logo can give a great first impression to potential customers. By using your logo on everything and keeping with a general theme, usually a graphical element that stems from your logo, you can stay in your customers minds. You want them to know who you are at a glance.

Brochures & Handouts
Brochures and handouts are a great way to describe services and information while still keeping the customer entertained. Pictures and well designed elements give your information a professional and well presented piece that your customer will read and pass along to others.

Social Media
Social media websites like Facebook & Twitter are the newest of outlets for businesses to advertise and market themselves. By creating your own “profile” you can attract customers by informing them of promotions or services. As the world is ever changing, these are quick and easy ways to socialize and network with future and returning customers.

Direct Mail
Direct mailers are an excellent way to market your business to a specific audience. From postcards to personalized key chains, you can grab a group’s attention that you know are in the market for your specific services. It’s a good way to direct business to a website where you have more information about promotions or sales. You have more control of who your audience is and how you want them to react.

It is so important to put yourself and your name in front of customers repetitive times. They need to remember who you are and what you do, so when it’s time for them to need your service, they already know who to contact. By using some or all of these tools along with a plan of action, the marketing and advertising world isn’t quite as intimidating as before.

Celebre la Cultura

When it came time for my husband to meet my family for the first time, I knew things would be interesting. I made sure to carefully walk him through what he was about to experience. You see, my green-eyed, blonde-haired, 100% American husband was raised in the Shreveport area with his green-eyed, blonde-haired family. And he was quite eager to meet his different and soon-to-be in-laws and relatives. I couldn’t have written it any better if I were writing a scene in a movie...oh wait, it has been written, and it was in a movie called Fools Rush In (rent it!). Enter the scene: My future hubby and I pull up to la casa de mi tío [my uncle’s house]—though actually, he realized we were getting close from a block away when we could really begin to hear Vicente Fernández wailing through the speakers of the dually parked in the front yard. We hop out of my vehicle, step around the chickens and dogs, and stroll over to where my dad stood, cerveza in hand, singing, laughing, and speaking (in Spanish) with his brothers. Mi esposo [my husband], not understanding too much of anything of the chaos around him, may have felt a little nervous and out of place. He was, after all, not only meeting the people who would soon become his family, he was meeting a new culture. In memory, it seems as though everything stopped for a moment. Silence fell, everyone ceased talking, maybe even the Vicente CD ended, and all eyes turned to me and my gringo. “Want a beer?,” my uncle asked in English, smiling, and Aaron knew that everything was going to be fine.

Growing up visiting Mexico, my father’s homeland, was always a fun experience for us as children; and it became more important to us as we grew older. I still love hearing the stories about my dad’s childhood and visiting the home and village where he grew up. My family lived in the rurals of Mexico, farming the acres and acres of land around their home, La Libertad [liberty, or freedom]—or, as we’ve always called it, the Ranch. He grew up in the state of Jalisco, just at the bordering state’s line. Jalisco’s capital city is Guadalajara, and is known for—you got it—tequila. The land is magnificent; it is surrounded by the Sierra Madre mountains and beautiful plateaus, with pleasant weather year round ideal for farming—mainly agave. The house he grew up in was made of clay bricks and surrounded by many types of cactus. Though now deteriorating, as no one had lived there in 30 years, the house is still very beautiful to me. Every single time I visit, without thought, I reach up and try to snatch a tuna (fruit that grows on the major type of cactus in the area) off a cactus paddle, or nopale, and wind up with stickers in my palm. They are so delicious, and I rarely manage to get one without injuring myself—maybe one day I’ll learn to stop and think before grabbing. Maybe not.

Throughout our years together, I’ve had the opportunity to travel to Mexico a few times with my husband. I believe he loves it more each time we go. But how could one not? It is a very different place. I think one of his favorite differences is the fact that the dogs often live on the roofs of the homes in urban areas, since those homes have little to no yard. He gets a kick out of walking down the street to the open air markets (another favorite) and hearing a dog bark, only to look around...look around...look around...look up, and see him warning you from two stories above. Culturally we are quite different here in los Estados Unidos [the United States]. Where we seem to be in a perpetual rush, the Mexicanos seem to be more laid back, more casual, and always eager to make you more comfortable. Ours is a loving and patient culture. When you are welcomed into a home or family, you are completely welcomed; and if there is anything your host can do to make your stay—be it long or short—more comfortable, they will. Though we are a close-knit culture—which is obvious to anyone interested in observing—we are quite eager to introduce any new ones to what we have, and share our culture and traditions. Maybe that’s why Cinco de Mayo has become such a big thing in America, whereas it isn’t celebrated on a grand scale in Mexico. It’s a time to celebrate traditions, culture, and food in a place where we aren’t constantly surrounded by our “Mexicaness”—a chance to catch up on what we may miss out on in day-to-day life away from one’s tierra natal [native land] and/or familia [family].

Admittedly, I am not as deeply involved in my family heritage as I should be. I love my family, I love the food, I love the language, I love the culture, I love to visit the land where mi padre [my father] grew up—but I rarely get the opportunity to speak Spanish (which I should speak far better than I do) or get involved with the local community of Latinos. It is something I should make a greater effort to do, especially with the language. Interestingly enough, mis perros [my dogs] understand “quieres agua?” better than “do you want some water?” I think they’re happy to “speak” a bit of their grandpa’s native language, as long as I never make them live on the roof.

~Grace

Pushing Beyond Capacity

I found myself in a moment where I was thinking to myself, “Why do I torture myself like this? This is self-inflicted pain and yet I keep bringing myself here every day to repeat the action.” My hands were freezing, my exposed legs were, too. My heart was beating faster than I would have liked and my breathing was loud and uncontrollable. My sunglasses were speckled with raindrops and I could feel the blister on the back of my heel opening up.

I checked my GPS and timer. Only 2/10 of a mile left of the 3.1 miles. If I made that last stretch in a minute and a half I would beat yesterday’s time by one whole minute. That was the moment I said, “Come on, Crickett, get over the pain, sprint it out and finish strong. You can do it!”

This was yesterday, and while I only shaved 45 seconds off my best time, I came to a halt, checked my time, and with what little breath I had left I let out a squeal and did a little victory dance. Yes, I danced right there on the track, by myself, in the rain.

Life is like that. There is a lot of pride in achieving goals and mastering situations that are difficult. If we don’t challenge ourselves, we are just going through the motions of life with little substance and can often get stuck in a rut.I spent the past two and a half years working for a military boarding school in Mississippi. One of the motivation phrases used to get the kids to make drastic changes in their lives and behaviors goes a little something like this: “If you always do what you’ve always done, you’ll always get what you’ve always gotten.”

I worked for Insty-Prints for over three years before returning to my home in Mississippi. While at Insty, I worked in the design department, gave customer service a try, and even mastered the mailing and variable data programs.

Of all the places I have ever worked in my nearly 17 years of printing, Insty is the one place where I have made the best of friends, had the most fun, and grown the most professionally and as a person.

During my sabbatical to Mississippi, I finished my degree in public relations, minored in business administration, and finished in December with honors from Mississippi College, a private college near Jackson that is very similar in size and value to that of Centenary College here in Louisiana.

I knew over a year ago, though, that I wanted to be back in Louisiana. The first person I contacted to help me find a job was Gene Elliott. After several lunch meetings and discussion of logistics, Gene and Jim asked me to return to Insty-Prints with the title of Creative Consultant and Account Representative.

Was this out of my comfort-zone and was this new position going to be a challenge? Absolutely!

There is hardly a day that goes by where I don’t wonder what I have gotten myself into. It’s hard to look folks in the eye and convince them that you have their best interest at heart and that you want to show them creative ideas that will save them time, money, and frustration. You know they can trust you, but convincing them of that is the hard part.

But, there are those moments when they give you a chance to prove yourself. You gratefully shake their hand, thank them for the opportunity, and when you walk out of their doors you use your last breath to squeal and do a little victory dance!

So, what’s ahead? My first task is to help my clients understand everything we are and how we can better serve them. My number one goal is to hand our customers the best service in the industry, help them see what we are capable of giving them, and deliver a quality product they can be proud of.

I also plan to join the MBA program at LSU-Shreveport this fall to further my skills so that I can offer even more value to my customers and also to grow professionally.

I’m excited to be back in Shreveport—excited to be surrounded by the best marketing, graphics, printing, and mailing team in this region and excited to see just how far we can grow.

~Crickett

If the shoe fits, grab it!

The weather is beautiful. And when the weather is beautiful, I have but one thing on my mind; that’s right—sassy shoes. Just the other day a facebook friend posted that she had “3 pair of hot shoes” in her Nine West shopping cart online and wanted input on why she should or should not get them. One friend suggested she go back and check her status from weeks earlier when she had promised to go on a “shoe fast,” one friend asked her how much they cost, and everyone else screamed “BUY ‘EM!”

I know a thing or two about shoe fasts. Awhile back I decided to count my own shoe collection, and after realizing I had over 160 pairs of shoes (eek!) I went for over a year without buying a single pair. (Yes, I am a strong woman.) However, I have long since fallen off the wagon. One of my favorite shoe stories (and, yes, I have many) involves my friend Brenda. I’ve known Brenda for several years now and we see each other only a few times annually. But each time we do, we run to one another and hug, all the while gawking at one another’s feet. I know she will never let me down; she will always have beautiful shoes worth drooling over. If you asked me her eye color I may have to stop and think a bit, but I can most certainly tell you about the patent-leather Jimmy Choos snuggling her feet the last time I saw her. Well...some time last year I ran into a dear old family friend, and as we stood and chatted—catching up—I noticed someone off to the side eyeing me up and down. Mainly down. Finally, my dear friend introduced me to her friend. Her friend said, “I know you but I don’t know from where—and the last time I saw you, you were wearing the cutest little black mules with feathers. Oh, they were so cute. Do you still have those shoes?” I burst into laughter and was sure I’d never seen this woman before in my life. Finally my friend said, “This is Brenda’s mom,” and everything made perfect sense. Of course it was Brenda’s mom. And although I don’t ever remember meeting her in the past, I do remember those cute little little black mules with the feathers. They were adorable. And, ohhhhhh, Brenda’s Mom, how I wish I did still have them. I should confess, as much as I’d love to, I’ve never been shoe shopping with Brenda and I doubt I ever will. I’m confident that that woman could get me in a whole heap of trouble.

We gals need our fabulous shoes. They make us feel fun. They make us feel tall and sylphlike. They make us feel sporty and playful. They make us feel just downright good. I know that if I go clothes shopping on an off day, I can leave empty handed and depressed—”nothing fit right, nothing looked good, I gained five pounds, I feel bloated, I hate the new styles”—but I can always, always, trust that I can find that perfect pair of sevens to make me feel good again, feel sparkly, feel awesome. And what woman doesn’t want to feel sparkly and awesome? With Spring in the air, it’s time again to let our tootsies breathe a little. While I love every single pair of my winter boots, booties, and loafers, each year as warm weather promises to appear, I start to get very anxious to strap on the sandals. But before any of us do so, please, please, please (and one more for emphasis—please) let’s remember to have those hoofs gussied up, buffed, and polished. And resist the urge to buy shoes that don’t fit, no matter how adorable they look on the shelf. You don’t want your toes hanging over one end or your heel dragging off the other. I don’t want to leave men out here; I know some of you like your sandals, too. But here’s a clue, guys: Your manly feet don’t have to smell manly, nor should they be, ahem, crusted or yellow. Try some spiffin’ up. You’ll be happy you did (and so will your significant other and everyone around you).

In the end, the facebook friend bought her hot shoes. But you saw that coming, right? You know I only write stories with happy endings. Every pair of sassy shoes needs a good home. So if the shoe fits, grab it. ...And everyone lives happily ever after.

~Grace

Inspiration

For my eighth birthday, my Uncle Bob gave me a 110 camera. Like most kids that age, I shot a photo of each family member, the dog, the cat…typical stuff important to an 8 year old. I remember I wanted to shoot a photo of my sister climbing our favorite hill, but before I shot the photo I thought to myself, “If I shoot close-up and below her, it may look as though she is climbing a huge mountain.” Pretty ingenious thought for someone of my young, fragile, naive age!

Over the years I cultivated that creative spirit. I took art classes throughout high school and even went to college to become an architect. Of course, as soon as I realized I wasn’t going to be drawing floor plans and beautiful structures all day (more like airplane parts and pulley systems) I diverted my education to study psychology, then later graduated with a degree in public relations. What a diversion!

Life happened, too. Cooking dinner, helping kids with homework, and cleaning house just seemed to be more of a priority than painting landscapes. So eventually all traces of acrylics, watercolors, and canvases disappeared from my life.

I made a career in graphic design and photography to continue my love for art and it worked. They say if you do what you love, it is never “work.”

But occasionally I began to miss the key element behind true art and design…and that is “inspiration.” I missed creating an art piece driven by the sheer primal and raw need to create something. I missed expressing myself in color, shape, texture, and lines. I missed creating something that was only for the world to view the mysteries locked inside my head, not for the girl who needed to earn a paycheck.

On February 1 I returned to a place I called home for over seven years, Shreveport, Louisiana. I returned to the company I loved and worked with for more than three years, Insty-Prints. I returned to the friendships of some of the greatest and most creative minds I have ever known.

On a snowy Thursday night, five of us creative, spunky women found ourselves sitting on a bench at the ribbon-cutting of the Norsworthy Art Gallery, gazing into the paintings and wondering what happened to the girls of long ago who had paint on our hands and face and dripping from our hair.

That night, a seed of inspiration was planted and it spread amongst us like wildfire on a hot, dry Midwestern grain field. We knew we had to create, and thus was born a plan to awaken each of our inner-artists.

We came up with an inspiration quote and set out to create whatever the quote inspired in us for an art project due the first day of spring. The quote: “He attacked everything in life with a mix of extraordinary genius and naive incompetence, and it was often difficult to tell which was which” by Douglas Adams.

Hidden in plastic and paper bags and under jackets, four ladies brought in pieces. With anticipation, each woman revealed her piece. Grace was first with her Joker painting. She explained the mixture of control and chaos—and dual personality the quote inspired for her whimsical, well-detailed painting. Rachel unveiled a gorgeous piece of ceramics she sculpted with raised lines symbolizing her interpretation of that uniformity versus chaos undertone in the quote. I found inspiration in what goes through the minds of individuals when they meet and spark a light for the path in my painting. Raydra found inspiration in the genius, crazy mind of Albert Einstein with a fantastic shadowbox, well crafted and proudly presented.

Indeed the first presentation was a dynamic success.

The first day of summer will revolve around the word “Dr. Seuss.” I cannot wait to see the variety of creativity amongst everyone. I see this growing into something huge as more individuals are inspired to join. We’ve even gotten permission to turn the main hall in our mid-offices into our gallery for everyone to see the talent of those who wish to participate. Next time you are downtown, stop by and see the beginnings of raw creativity at its finest.

~Crickett

Big Air & Argyle Pants

Every two years, for two weeks the whole world dons the flags of their countries and supports athletes, some famous and some whose names have never been spoken before outside of their sport, in their quest to achieve a dream. This dream might be as small as being called an Olympian or as big as winning a gold medal.
In my house the Olympics are a big deal. Daytime competitions are recorded to be watched later, daily medal counts are tallied, and singing the National Anthem is just part of the Olympic hysteria. The best part about the Winter Olympics is watching sports we southerners never have the opportunity to watch. My favorite two are snowboarding (both snowboard cross and the half-pipe) and curling.

In Olympics past, curling was this weird sport that used brooms and big round stones on ice. This year it became the fad sport everyone talked about—besides Shaun White revealing his new trick on the half-pipe and the big US-Canada showdown in hockey. It seemed everyone I talked to watched curling and Shaun White snowboarding. The Norwegian men helped all the hype by wearing some very loud pants that drew a lot of attention.

Curling is similar to Bocci Ball (or Boule, if you're French). The object of the sport is simple—have the closest stone to the very center of the target after all the stones have been played. The strategy is what makes the game. The more I watched, the more into I got. It is exciting seeing a triple take out (moving three of the opponents stones out of play using just one of your stones) and hearing the skip (team leader) yell to the sweepers as they create a path in the ice for the stone to travel. During the final match between Norway and Canada, the crowd, feeling the excitement of the game, spontaneously erupted into "O Canada!" during the final end (round of play). I loved it! I enjoy the fervent way people celebrate their athletes during the Olympics.

The Olympics are about bringing the world together through sport and competition. We, as a nation, cheer on our athletes as they compete for us. In a few more weeks, the glory of the games will pass from people's thoughts until, four years from now, when the winter games return to action in Sochie, Russia. And we look to London for the summer games in just two years.

~Rachel

Snow? But this is Louisiana!

My left wrist is slowly becoming more limber in the morning; that’s a clear sign that warmer weather is here. I am quite clumsy, and I have broken my poor mistreated left wrist twice. Hopefully describing it with so many adjectives will somehow make up for the abuse it has endured. “Poor lefty” had pins surgically inserted and then brutally yanked out of her due to a skateboarding accident. That was the second break, which I affectionately refer to as my “final skateboarding adventure”. After that injury to my now bionic left wrist, I began to realize that in cold weather “lefty” will ache and be immovable until about 9 a.m. I truly don’t know how people with plates and screws in their bones cope with these arctic temperatures, not to mention the orthopedic bills.

Aching bones are not the only complaint for the cold weather. I have overheard many grievances from our fellow Southern citizens during my daily activities—the most prominent one being the dreaded winter utility bills. Personally, I feel the utility companies should offer a spring/fall savings plan. You could add $5 per fair-weather bill to be deducted later on from your winter bills, which skyrocket to three digits—the first digit often being four. However, I work for Insty-Prints, not a utility company, but they can have that idea for a small consulting fee.

Along with escalating utility bills and aching sports/clumsy girl injuries, winter complaint 203 is trying to stay warm at night while you are trying to sleep. We bundle our children up in footy pajamas, and they wake up drenched in sweat as if they slept in the mouth of a volcano. Somehow as adults, we lose our internal heating mechanism. I am not sure at which age this happens, but if I could stop time for one reason, that would be it. Well, that and maybe the whole youthful metabolism thing. Maybe this lack of sleep due to freezing overnight temperatures only exists for those brave soldiers; who, like me, spend the night in a giant bed all alone. My fellow lone rangers know what it’s like to cuddle up to a pillow and purchase a $70 electric blanket that breaks in two weeks.

Humanity relies on modern invention to keep us warm enough to function as members of society, but this year Mother Nature decided to show us a better way to warm ourselves. I’m sure we all remember the great snow of 2010. When I walked out of the house that Thursday morning, little white things floated down from the sky. My heart grew five times its normal size and an ear-to-ear grin was plastered on my face. I carefully picked the perfect snowy day song to listen to in my headphones as I walked from the parking garage to work. Insert plug for band and song I really love: Alterkicks “Oh, Honey.” It was perfect!

Later that night we went to the opening of the Norsworthy Gallery. It was like a movie. The girls and I sat on a bench drinking wine, surrounded by art and watching people rush in the door gently brushing the snow from their hair. People walked the streets closer together that night. Snow really brings a romantic scene to downtown Shreveport.

The following morning, I awoke to see that the snow had stuck and I still felt twelve years old. Apparently I was not alone in this feeling of childlike wonder. Grace—whose snow-covered tree limbs hugged the ground that, on other days, is known as her driveway—stayed home from work and made a mock-up of her family out of snow. Rodney, who usually takes random pictures of food, took a memory cards’ worth of photographs. Richard used his fancy movie maker to video his drive to work, and Raydra walked in pouting because she wanted to be in an epic snowball war with her children rather than be at work. Michelle and I spent the day half working and half staring out the windows with dreams of hot chocolate and warm fireplaces.

When the day came to an end I put on the exact same “perfect song” for my drive home. I saw that the snow had melted from the trees and the ground was green again. However, almost every yard had a towering snowman still standing—proud reminders that adults took off work, kids stayed home from school, and families spent a day together outside, away from the office and responsibility and closer to loved ones. I’m sure legend will remain that it snowed in 49 of the 50 states that day because the Saints won the Super Bowl, and the twelve year old inside of me is just fine with that. Thank you, Saints and Thank You, Mother Nature for keeping me warm this winter.

~Leigh

A Night on the Red Carpet

After much anticipation, the 2009 ADDYS® have finally come and, unfortunately, gone. January and February are always abuzz with ADDY talk at Insty-Prints—concerned chatter like, “Have you gotten your dress yet?” “What kind of heels are you wearing?” “How are you doing your hair?”—you know, the usual girly talk before an awards event. Oh, and I guess we wondered what awards we would be picking up, as well.

Everyone was extremely excited that the event was taking place at the Robinson Film Center. It is definitely one of our favorite places in town. Most of us have been to a few events at RFC and the staff always does a wonderful job. This time would prove to be no different. After much stressing over new dresses (Raydra didn’t even wind up wearing hers!), new shoes, and unbelievable amounts of prep work, we were each ready for the night’s excitement. This was Michelle, Leigh, & Rachel’s first ADDY Awards Gala; Raydra’s second; and as for Jerry, Crickett, and Grace—well, we’ve all just lost count. All together there were seven Insty family members in attendance, along with a few spouses. Everyone was wearing their absolute best—the girls looked stunning and the guys were truly sharp-dressed men. Jerry even showed up in his penguin suit! Everyone at the Insty-Prints sponsored table was having a fantastic time—and no one in the room had a single doubt! We “wooed” each time our logo popped up on the big screen. We cheered when we got our food (which was, of course, fantastic!). We laughed late into the night. After dinner, our rowdy bunch made their way to one of the theater rooms for the awards ceremony. Grace was a presenter and got to help hand out a few awards. We thought she made a very sultry Vanna.

As usual, there was quite a bit of joking and ribbing going on during the presentation and everyone had a good time. There were some amazing pieces submitted this year and it’s always enjoyable to see our talented local designers get the recognition that is certainly deserved. No doubt the district judges who came in a few weeks ago to sort through all the amazing work and choose who would advance to the event had a very difficult time picking winners. As always, the student work submitted this year was very impressive. It’s good to know who our future competition is (smile and wink).

Insty-Prints did pick up a couple awards Saturday night—a Silver for a logo created for Oak Alley Farms’ Pattie Shop and a Bronze for an invitation for the Krewe of Justinian. We are very proud to be able to participate in this annual event and be recognized among the immense talent found here.

This year’s ADDYS were very successful and by far the most fun we’ve ever been to. Allen Garcie, AAFSB president, and Alan Hampton, vice president and ADDY chair, certainly made the night unforgettable, as did the rest of Shreveport-Bossier’s Advertising Federation members. We are already looking forward to next year’s event. If you have never attended one we want to recommend that you do, but make sure you sit close to the Insty bunch. That is where the real party will be!

Do You Really Think I Am the Bee's Knees?

Both of my children have had notes sent home with them this past week with the names of their classmates so they can write out their Valentines. My son even has to decorate a shoebox to put his in. This got me to thinking about Valentine’s Day when I was in elementary school and what a big deal it was, at least to me anyway.

We usually made our “mailboxes” in art class. The teacher would wrap shoeboxes in white butcher’s paper and we would decorate them with crayons or construction paper. There was a little slot cut into the top for your Valentines to go in.

My teacher would send home a list of names and my mom would take me to pick out my cards. I would usually pick out ones that had cute animals or something on them. I would then go home with my cards and my list and begin a very important task. I had to make sure that I gave the right card to the right person. My memory isn’t the greatest, but I remember like it was yesterday how carefully I would make my decisions about who got which card. Of course all of the boys that I liked got the “Be Mine”, “You’re a Sweetie”, and “My Heart Hops for You” cards. The boys that I didn’t like would get the “You’re a Cool Kid” or “I’m Glad We’re Friends” cards. I didn’t want to give the wrong boys the wrong impression. I also had to make sure that my best girl friends got the coolest cards.

After our Valentine’s party at school, I would take my “mailbox” full of cards home and shut myself up in my room to read them. At this point I analyzed every card that was given to me and I would try to read into their messages. So, what was Jeremy trying to say when he gave me a card that said, “You are the apple of my eye”? Did I really make Shannon’s “Heart go Pitter Patter”? And why would Steven give me a card that said, “Best Buds”? I thought he liked me more than that! It sounds so silly when I think about it now, but it was very serious business when I was in third grade.

I am curious to see if my kids will be as serious as I was about Valentine’s Day cards. Right now, thankfully, they are more concerned with picking out the coolest cards and trying to talk me into buying more candy.

~Raydra

Who Dat in the Super Bowl?

Well, well, well...what has happened in the world of professional football this year? “Who Dat?” became “Dat going to the Big Show.” I never thought I would live to see this day come. Some of my Facebook friends have shared some thoughts on this as well.
Let me preface anything additional here by stating I am a life-long Dallas Cowboy fan, good or bad, and will continue to be, despite Mr. Jones. Given that, I am glad to see the Saints hit the Big Show, finally, Super Bowl XLIV. WOW! To see the excitement throughout this city, much less the state, is impressive. In case you are wondering, yes, I will cheer for the Saints during the game and I do hope they come out on top, despite what I might have to listen to if they do win. (But no, I will not don any Saint paraphernalia [remember, Cowboy fan here] either way. I do have my principles, you know.)

I lived in Denver during the time Elway was there, I watched “The Drive” against Cleveland on TV and saw how that city went ballistic over their Super Bowl berths...three of them while I was there. I also witnessed those same fans’ reactions when the Broncos lost all three, first to the Giants, then to the Redskins, and finally to the 49ers, and how angry those same fans got afterward, going so far as to hang a player in effigy from an overpass for missing the potential game-winning field goal. This was against New York only, the other two were major blowouts—so no hangings, just a lot of negativity. (They did later win a couple.)

My hope is that the outcome of this Super Bowl—win or loose—doesn’t take away from the accomplishment the Saints have made this year by just getting to the Super Bowl—after all, it has been a long time coming. I hope that the fans enjoy the fact that they can still watch their team play this deep in the season. Finally, I hope that we treasure collectively the pride they have brought back to the state post-Katrina, and carry it forward after the game. So, from a died-in-the-wool Cowboy fan, I say “GO SAINTS!” ...At least until next year, that is.

~Jerry

To Breed or Not To Breed...A Philosophical Question?

The question of motherhood, for me, was something I didn’t lend much credence to when I was in high school and college. While I thought my own mother had done a great job with me and my brother, I had babysat and nannied so much during my teen years that I had finally decided, once and for all, that I was NOT interested in such things. I would go to art college, become famous and have a fabulous career, and babies and motherhood were things I could do without.

Fast forward to today, at age 37, where I sit at my desk and try to look busy while secretly surfing the net for baby bedding and furniture (don’t tell my boss!). I now understand, in full detail, the meaning of “biological clock”. By the time I was 27, I had done a 180 about motherhood. I entered into my first marriage full of hope, wanting the picket fence and children and all that stuff. Of course, calling it my “first marriage” gives away the ending, right? Not quite…it turned out to be the beginning for me. Lessons were learned, and I moved on….

Now, I am married to the man of my dreams (cornball, I know, but so true!) and we are planning for a baby. I’ve never been so obsessed with anything in my life! And so sublimely happy, thinking about being called “Mommy”. *sigh*

Of course, the family is excited as well. This will be my parents’ first grandchild—I see a lot of “spoiled rotten” ahead! Since my husband is from a big Italian family, there is no shortage of well-wishers and hopefuls on that side as well. Everyone wants a girl—it would be the first girl grandchild on my husband’s side of the family in many, many years. My father-in-law, such a dear man, I believe is happy about it as well. But, he has opinions, like most people do, about today’s world and the dangers of raising children. He asked me, “Why would you want to raise a child in today’s times?”

Hmmm. An interesting question, I thought. Then I thought, “How do I answer this without inferring that his concerns are immaterial?” And it just popped out of me:

“What if my child is the one that will make a difference?”

Well, he couldn’t say too much to that. That one question embodied all the hopes I had for the future. Nothing can take that away.

Here is my take on the situation: Yes, there are people out there who have kids and pay no attention to them and don’t take any care to raise them to be decent human beings. And yes, there are people out there who will walk all over others, maybe even my future child, on their way to their big, bright future. But apathy is not the answer to what some people may think is a “deteriorating society”, and deciding not to have children simply because there is “bad” in the world is, to me, apathy. I think the answer is to have your children, love them, and raise them to be the best people they can be, because they are the ones who can make the future a wonderful place.

There is still so much good in the world; we just have to see it…and then BE it.

~Michelle