By Richard Zowie

In my years as a journalist, I’ve had the opportunity to cover many government meetings. City councils, county commissions, township boards, school boards, you name it. Some meetings are quick and uneventful, as exciting as a drive through Arizona on Interstate 10. You’re faced with three choices: turn it into a news brief, skip it altogether or do what some journalists do: make something up.
I’m kidding on that last one, of course.
The life of a local government beat reporter can indeed be a fascinating one. We recall from that heartwarming Forrest Gump movie that life is like a box of chocolates, you have no idea what you’ll get with each passing day. The same can be said about local government meetings. Will important decisions be made? Will a scandal break out? Will I get blood spilled on my wonderful light blue Hawaiian shirt? Will it be my blood? Is that councilperson glaring at me because they think I’m C.J. Carnacchio?
Here are the most memorable moments from meetings I’ve covered:
A 21 year-old Akhkharu minister who unsuccessfully sought an exemption from drinking age laws so that his 20 year-old bride could drink ceremonial wine during their wedding ceremony. Akhkharu is a vampire-style religion. I don’t know much else, except that trying to pronounce it gives me a sore throat.
A township meeting where the supervisor and trustee made it very clear they would not be exchanging Christmas cards. The supervisor, ‘Hatfield,? accused the trustee, ‘McCoy,? of violating state laws with her home while McCoy accused Hatfield of using the accusations to curtail her efforts to unseat him in the primary race. At the meeting, the trustee’s spouse (a person in poor health) was extremely animated and voiced their displeasure of the supervisor; I’m told that a meeting or so before the spouse had to be escorted out by police.
Perhaps my favorite story so far: While covering a city council meeting in 2001 in a tiny Texas town outside San Antonio (Texas does not have townships), a local business owner answered accusations he’d ignored an order to get a smaller sign for his business. He held up a copy of a newspaper article that he didn’t particularly care for and pointed to the offensive reporter who had written it (not your’s truly, of course). He asked for leniency, saying he didn’t know how to read or write. ‘My daughter runs the books and gives me the documents to sign,? he indignantly told council. He never managed to explain why his daughter hadn’t read the notice and told him about it.
As an Oxford Leader staff writer, my beats are Addison Township and Oxford education. While C.J. was on vacation, I filled in for him and covered the Oxford Township Board and the Oxford Village Council. I’m curious to see what these assignments will be like. Will they be quick? Long? Uneventful? Exciting? Informative? Something solely to fill up white space or something that could potentially win a Michigan Press Association Award?
All I know for sure is this: I’ll do my best to make sure I report issues fairly and accurately. Specifically, my goal is to report the facts and let the readers decide for themselves what they think about the situation.

By Richard Zowie

Ni hao! Wo shi Zuo Ruicha. Wo gongzuo zai bao zhi gongzuo de zuo jia. Suiran wo hen xi huan ya, ke shi wo bu chi ya. Wo you tai tai he san ge er zi. Wo xue Zhong Wen wo zhu le zai Jia Zhou de shi hou.
Sounds confusing? Here’s a translation of my rusty attempt at Mandarin Chinese: Hello! My name is Richard Zowie. I work at a newspaper as a writer. Although I really like ducks, I don’t eat ducks. I have a wife and three sons. I studied Chinese when I lived in California.
Whew!
Eight months of my life about 12 years ago were spent studying Mandarin Chinese (or, as it’s called in Chinese, Pu Tong Hua) at the U.S. Army’s Defense Language Institute at Presidio of Monterey, Calif. Some will tell you that Chinese is a tough language, and they’re right. The laoshi (teachers) had the fun challenge of teaching their language to us in 18 months. Unlike English (and most other written languages in the world), Chinese doesn’t have an alphabet. Instead, Chinese uses building blocks called radicals and then add other strokes or characters to it to make their pictographs that are used for words. For instance, if you combine the radicals for woman and child, you get the character hao, which translates as ‘good?. Combining the sun and moon radicals produces the character ming, which means ‘bright? (as in Yao Ming). Also, Chinese is spoken in five tones: level, rising, low, falling and neutral. Using a tone can sometimes completely change the word altogether. The word ma, depending on the tone it’s spoken in, can mean mother, horse, to scold or a question marker.
When I studied Mandarin, I found this language far too difficult. After transferring into Russian (a language I can still speak and understand to a modest degree), I gave away all my Chinese course materials ? something I now deeply regret. In the past several months, I’d been wondering if I’d ever get a chance to use my rusty skills. You know, seeing if I can progress beyond saying hello, I’m an American and that ever-important phrase, when eating at a Chinese restaurant, ‘Do you have any chopsticks??
Last week, while reviewing a local Chinese restaurant for What’s the Biz, I met the owners of a local restaurant. Turns out that Mr. and Mrs. Lam are from China’s Canton province. Their first language is Cantonese (which is the language spoken in Hong Kong), but they also understood Mandarin (the common dialect spoken in China). I spoke a few phrases to them and, much to my shock, they understood what I said.
Then, I went to Oxford High School for the new teacher orientation. While there, I met the new Chinese teacher, Jessie Qi (pronounced ‘Chee?). Again, I spoke a few sentences to Qi Laoshi and, to my shock, she understood me. In these two experiences, I’m not sure who was more surprised: me for encountering people who speak Chinese in Michigan or them for encountering an American who can speak a little of their language.
Ironically enough, whenever I’d ask my teachers what they thought the hardest language in the world was, they’d usually say English. For them, learning English is tough because of all the idioms, exceptions to the rules and crazy grammar structure. Whereas English grammar can get pretty complicated, such is not always the case in Chinese. One brief example: Chinese grammar has no verb conjugation.
I understand that Oxford schools is really pushing Chinese as a foreign language, and for students looking for a language, Chinese would be a good one to consider. With China’s large population and economy, it’s very possible that in a few decades Chinese could become the universally-spoken language that English currently is. If you’re a student looking to study a foreign language and it’s available at your school, consider studying Chinese. You just might like it.
And the food’s pretty good, also.

‘The more I spend time in Oxford, the more it’s starting to remind me of my home town of Beeville, Texas.*
For those of you unaware of the Lone Star State, Beeville’s located in South Texas? Coastal Bend, about 90 miles southeast of San Antonio. About 13,000 people live in Beeville.
When you drive through Beeville, it comes across as a quiet, uneventful town.
But if you pick up the newspaper or visit a local government meeting, you can see there are lots of intense things going on.
Right now, for example, Bee County (where Beeville is located) is implementing some not-so-popular financial cuts to get back into financial solvency.
Apparently, the current county judge (who happens to be my wife’s second cousin) inherited a financial mess from his predecessor.
If there’s one thing I miss about Beeville’s hot summers (my dad told me that a few weeks ago it had been in the 105-degree range), it’s going outside in the evening and listening to the cicada bugs?
‘Going to the Oxford library, I have discovered a new friend ? Winston, the almost 20-year-old fish. He swims in the large aquarium in the lobby.
As I looked at him closely, he almost seemed to smile at me before swimming away. I soon found out that he’s a pacu, which is a mostly-herbivorous fish that’s closely related to the piranha.
Yikes! Seeing those sharp teeth in his mouth led me to nickname him ‘Jaws?.
Winston reminds me a lot of my childhood neighbor’s since-departed Boxer/Pit Bull mix dog named Precious: an animal that you like immediately?
‘During my month here, I’ve had a few people tell me how much they like my writing style. It’s always great to get a compliment, but, honestly, my style of reporting–especially when I try my hand at investigative reporting–is simple: present the facts and viewpoints and let the readers decide for themselves what they think. Write in a way that entices the reader?
‘Because this still comes up almost daily when I go out into the community, I should remind Oxford Leader readers: honest to goodness, C.J. Carnacchio and I are not related.
It’s somewhat funny how many people will visit our office, glance over my way when C.J. is off on assignment and say, ‘Oh, hi, C.J.!? Sometimes I simply just wave back at them…
‘Because I love to peruse used book stores, I have to ask: does Oxford (the village or township) or Addison Township have a used book shop?
So far I haven’t seen one. Seems like you have to look long and hard up here to find them.
If only Half-Price Books would open some franchises up here?
‘It’s always an adventure driving out of the Leader offices either when I’m going home for the day or when I have to go out to cover something.
Trying to get onto South Lapeer Road from Oakdell Road can truly be an exercise in patience. I’m told there’s better hope of the Detroit Lions winning a Super Bowl than there is of a traffic light being put up there.
Meanwhile, any time I try to time my entry into the busy traffic, I’ll have to imagine myself as Evel Knievel and hope to have better luck than the late daredevil did when he tried to jump the Snake River Canyon?
* I hope Leader readers don’t mind that this Texas export’s favorite NFL team is the Dallas Cowboys.

Richard Zowie is a staff writer for the Leader. Send comments to oxfordleader@gmail.com.

By Richard Zowie
It’s a wonderful privilege to be working at the Oxford Leader as a staff writer. I’ve always loved to write and have been writing professionally for the past eight years. I’m sure you have a few questions about me, so I’ll go ahead and answer the ones I’ve already been asked as well as ones I’m certain to be asked.
You look just like the editor, C.J. Carnacchio! Are you and he brothers? No.
Surely, the two of you are related, right? No, although he’s Italian and German while I’m of German/English/Irish descent.
Zowie is such a cool last name! Is that your real surname? How do you pronounce it? Yes. And it rhymes with Howie, as in the first name of the host of Deal or No Deal.
Come on. Do you expect me to believe you and C.J. aren’t really related? Yes. But because of our uniquely-chiseled good looks, I can see why people would think so.
What kind of a name is Zowie? My grandfather’s birthname was Sylvester Sebastian Zahnweh. His father was a German immigrant. The name was then Americanized to Zowie. Zahnweh, by the way, is pronounced ‘Tsahn-veh? and means ‘toothache? in German. I think one of my ancestors a few centuries back was named Willy Wonka Zahnweh.
I don’t believe that’s your real surname. If you’re that skeptical, let me show you my driver’s license and my social security card (after I’ve strategically covered up my SSN, of course).
Do you plan on voting for C.J.? I’ll think about it if he gives me his parking space and a key to the executive washroom. No, wait. I’m not registered to vote in Oakland County. Rats!
Those questions aside, let me give you a brief biography on myself. I was born in Louisiana, grew up in Texas and Kansas, went to college in Florida and am married to a Michigan native who, 11 years later, still looks like the same gorgeous 24 year-old babe that I married. The way I see it, I married up.
After college, I spent four years in the Army, studying both Mandarin Chinese and Russian before settling down as a Russian voice interceptor. I’m hoping to brush up on my Russian and become proficient in it again, and maybe I’ll find some Russian-speaking readers in Oxford. As for Chinese, I still know a few phrases, including that all-important one of asking for chopsticks in a restaurant.
In the eight years I’ve been a writer, I’ve written for publications in Texas, Michigan and a few other places. Simply put, I love to write’whether it’s news, features, sports, film reviews, columns, blogs or even fiction. Along the way I’ve encountered and interviewed some very fascinating people. Among them: Dallas Cowboys owner/general manager Jerry Jones (being a lifelong Dallas fan, I was beyond nervous; former Purdue University head basketball coach Gene Keady; J.P. Richardson (the son of the late Big Bopper, who died in the infamous February 1959 plane crash with Buddy Holly and Ritchie Valens); the 102 year-old Clio-area lady whose secret to her longevity was? I kid you not? dipping snuff.
It’s been a wonderful ride so far, and it’s something I certainly want to keep on doing. When it comes to journalism writing, I do my best to present both sides and let the readers decide for themselves. In real life and in column writing I tend to be opinionated, but in journalism writing, being balanced and unbiased is what I try to strive for. I hope you’ll enjoy reading.

While Oxford Leader editor C.J. Carnacchio attended the Sunday game between the Detroit Lions and the Green Bay Packers, I watched it from home. Alas, it wasn’t a game featuring my favorite team, the Dallas Cowboys, but it was football. I was curious to see how Detroit would do for two reasons: one, they were opening up at home and two, they were playing for the first time in years against the Green Bay Packers without Brett Favre at the helm.
It was, indeed, an interesting game. For some closer to Detroit, they almost didn’t get to see it. The Gardner-White furniture company bought up about 3,100 tickets before a deadline to avoid a blackout. (In the NFL, a team must sell out a game within so many hours of a game or the game will be blacked out in local areas).
Ever the capitalists, the furniture company offered free tickets to any customers who purchased $500 or more in furniture. Considering the tickets cost less than $100 each, I call it glorified scalping.
So, I watched the game. The first half was no surprise. Green Bay carried a 21-3 lead into halftime. For the Lions, the end zone proved as unreachable as the original birth certificates of those extremely young-looking Chinese gymnasts for disgruntled investigators.
Then, in the second half, Packers quarterback Aaron Rodgers played less like Favre and more like Jon Kitna on a normal Sunday. Lots of three-and-outs. Lots of shaky passes. Kitna, in the second half, started playing decently enough to warrant being a starting quarterback. He threw two touchdown passes to Calvin Johnson, one of which Johnson caught on a deflection. Detroit then took the lead, 25-24 in the fourth quarter.
And then, the Packers kicked a field goal to go up 27-25. They then added a Brandon Johnson 19-yard touchdown run a drive later to go up 34-25.
And then, Kitna started playing like, well, Kitna. First came the interception to University of Michigan alumnus Charles Woodson.
In the next drive, Kitna dropped back to pass and threw a nice pass that was intercepted to Woodson, who ran it back for a touchdown to make the score 41-25.
Then, Kitna in the next drive threw another pass that was intercepted by Nick Collins and returned for a touchdown. Final score: Green Bay 48, Detroit 25.
I saw many empty seats as Lions backup Dan Orlovsky replaced Kitna in the final two minutes for a quick four-and-out, and it made me wonder if Gardner-White regretted buying up all those extra tickets. After all, how many Lions fans really wanted to see their team lose? Again?
The near-blackout presents an interesting solution to the Lions? woes.
Detroit fans, if you are sick of your team losing and want to send the ownership a clear message, quit buying tickets.
Lesser ticket revenues could finally start getting the Ford family’s attention if it makes a serious enough dent in their checkbook.
Who knows, maybe they’ll actually sell the team to someone who wants to win. I wonder if the Toyota Corporation is in the market for an NFL team.
I’ve never understood why Lions president Matt Millen continues to have a job while people like former Miami Dolphins head coach Cam Cameron are fired after only one season. Isn’t this the same Millen who drafted Joey Harrington, over then-coach Marty Mornhinweg’s objections that Harrington wasn’t a fit into Detroit’s offensive system? Millen was a great linebacker, but he’s a lousy front-office executive.
In the meanwhile, as long as Detroit continues to employ a so-so, backup-caliber quarterback in Jon Kitna, I don’t think Detroit will make it to the next level.
Long season, I’m afraid.

In the times that I’ve traveled to Addison Township to cover a story’most recently a house that caught on fire on Lowood Trail’I have reached one incontrovertible conclusion about the township: When driving there, avoid driving on Mack Road at all costs. Rent a helicopter if necessary.
On Sept. 16, I drove to Addison for a last-minute article regarding the house fire. After looking it up on the map, I wrote down the directions and headed out.
Things seemed fairly uneventful as I drove into the township, past the Lakeville Inn and the township hall, past Yule Road and then finally to Mack. Once I turned right onto Mack, the trouble began.
Bump bump bump bump BUMP! BUMP! bump bump bump BUMP! BUMP! BUMP!
And on and on this went as I prayed for the safety of my 1994 Ford Thunderbird. We’d just had brake work done on it and that day I’d gotten a newer-but-used tire to replace one that had worn out. In fact, later as I was driving away from the house, I heard a rattling noise and saw that some of the car’s plastic undercarriage had broken off.
No doubt, courtesy of Mack Road.
I tell you, that 2.1 mile-drive on Mack Road was one of the longest of my life. It ranks right up there with these memories:
…Driving nearly 90 miles per hour Highway 101 in Monterey, Calif. in 1997 to get a family member to the hospital for a medical emergency…
…Having to stop my minivan every few miles in 2002 to fill up the radiator with anti-freeze. I learned a few days later that not only had the water pump gone out, but the head gasket had also blown. In fact, I narrowly avoided frying the engine block…
…Driving to work in San Antonio, Texas, in Jan. 2004 after a rare ice-storm, sliding on the road and bumping the front into a guard rail…
…Driving to work in Davison on my 35th birthday (Feb. 6, 2008) during a nasty snowstorm and winding up in a ditch. A special thanks to the complete stranger who pulled me out of the ditch with his truck…
Needless to say, while I was driving on Mack to get to Lowood and while I was driving on Mack to get back to work, I was doing a lot of praying. The pockmarked road reminded me much of the cratered lunar surface. I kept my eyes glued to the road to try to find smooth spots to drive on. Because I didn’t have the money for another tire or another auto repair, I was particularly nervous.
Frankly, I’d have been worried even if I drove a Bluesmobile-style car. You know, the kind of car as described by Elwood Blues to his brother Jake in the 1980 classic The Blues Brothers.
I understand that Hosner Road was recently repaired due to it being considered impassable. Is it possible that Mack Road could be on the horizon? For those readers who live on Mack Road, how do you manage to drive on it? Do you have a mechanic on speed dial? Are your vehicle’s suspension and shocks made of a super-duper titanium alloy? Do you like the bumpiness?
All I know for sure is this: the next time I have to drive on Addison’s back roads, I’ll drive extra miles to avoid having my car endure another ‘Mack? attack…
…Traveling around town and looking for stories to uncover, you get a good idea of Oxford’s diversity. I’ve encountered people from England, Ireland, China, Taiwan, Germany and Thailand. With this rich diversity, I figure I’ll eventually encounter perhaps the rarest of people in Oxford ? a Democrat…
…Speaking of politics, I am neither a Democrat nor a Republican. I prefer to classify myself as an Independent Conservative and a fan of the late President Ronald Reagan. My choice for president? While I don’t see any great (or even very good) choices, I’ll give you one hint: NOT Barack Obama.
…When you work as a journalist, developing thick skin is standard operating procedure. Last week, while trying to get a quote from a certain person, they told me dismissively that they had nothing to say to the Leader. Yes, I had brushed my teeth and had taken a shower that morning, so my personal hygiene wasn’t a factor. Turns out they were upset about what they perceived as negative coverage and had made a decision not to talk to us.
Of course, this is hardly a problem exclusive to the Leader. If you listen to enough people and to the radio, read the newspapers, watch TV or surf the Internet, you will find that just about every newspaper out there has its share of critics that feel it’s a glorified housebreaking tool for dogs.

Yes, I’m extremely disgusted that Barack Obama has been elected president. But as I look forward to 2012, there’s something in the present that gives me encouragement and excitement.
Goodwill is coming to Oxford!*
As I type this, my giddiness is causing me to have to go back and correct frequent mistakes as my fingers touch the T button instead of the R, the O button instead of the P, and so on. Maybe it’s just because I love bargains. Looking at what I’m wearing today, I can tell you that my shirt and pants both were acquired from Goodwill. So is my coffee mug’emblazoned with a flying duck (my favorite animal)’that sits to my left at my desk.
And so are some of the books on my desk and in my bag and in my car (I usually have to hide them from my wife, who keeps telling me not to pick up more books until we find a bigger place to live). Among the literary treasures I’ve found over the years at Goodwill: The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, Dr. Zhivago by Boris Pasternak, My Life by Golda Meir, Fahrenheit 451 and The Illustrated Man by Ray Bradbury, The Diary of Anne Frank, In Cold Blood by Truman Capote (my wife, Jennifer, likes to read true crime novels), That Was Then, This Is Now and Tex’both by S.E. Hinton, and, of course, many books from Stephen King. Most recently, I added another Bible to my collection.
I can’t even begin to tell you the countless dollars I’ve saved through the purchase of ‘pre-owned? clothes and other items from Goodwill. When you live on a tight budget, stores like Goodwill can be an absolute godsend. A few months ago, I purchased a pair of Tommy Hilfiger jeans from Goodwill. They looked almost new, and they feel great. And of the books I buy, many look like they have hardly been read at all.
Even if I become wealthy someday, I will still frequent Goodwill. Call it the Mike Tyson Syndrome: nothing will make you go from rags-to-riches-to-rags faster than getting lots of money and not knowing how to budget and live within your means. Just because you have money doesn’t mean you have to shop for all your clothes at Bloomingdale’s. Maybe it’s a mentality I inherited from my parents, both of whom were born to poor families in the Great Depression.
Yes, yes, I know: image is everything. It’s not cool to shop at a second-hand store. Kids, as you get older, you’ll learn that while good social skills are crucial, being ‘cool? is overrated. Isn’t it better to be true to yourself than to try to appease a clique that won’t accept you for who you are?
So, when I go to Goodwill, I try to look for things for my family as well. Jennifer loves anything pertaining to angels, our oldest son likes fantasy novels and black clothes, our middle son likes the military and the color green and our youngest son likes race cars and–don’t ask–anything pertaining to the Cincinnati Bengals.
(I, of course, like America’s Team–the Dallas Cowboys).
And as for my father-in-law, I try to be on the lookout for three things: tools, western novels and Coca-Cola memorabilia.
When Goodwill does open here, since the location’s not too far from the Oxford Leader offices, it’s possible my commute home will become a little longer. Especially if I decide to check out their books.
(Shhh! Don’t tell my wife!)
*For more on the new Goodwill store, please see the news article on Page 3.