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I’ve got anger, yes I do; I’ve got anger, how about you?

9/29/2020

Charles City Press, 9-29-20

These days, you can’t swing a proverbial dead cat without hitting someone who’s enraged about something.

Not that I’ve ever swung a dead cat. I really don’t understand that idiom, anyway. Why would you want to swing a dead cat? Was that really a thing once?

And I’ve considered the possibility that the enraged people I’m talking about might very well be enraged because I just hit them in the face with a proverbial dead cat, and I should be more careful. That’s valid.

But back to my point. A lot of you are self-righteously angry right now, about everything and nothing at the same time, and you all just need to settle down for a while. I mean it. It’s not healthy.

I’m not an expert in mental health, and I haven’t talked to any experts in mental health, but I’m sure if I did they’d tell me that it isn’t healthy for everyone to be so angry all the time, right after they knee me in groin and call me a braggart.

I can sense it right now. I haven’t even finished this column yet and I can tell that there are cat-lovers and mental health experts out their already composing angry letters telling me that I can go straight to H-E-double-hockey-sticks for my totally uninformed opinions about the work they care so much about.

Hey, I’m not counting myself out of the equation, here. I’m too darn angry, too. Just last week, I used some strong and unprintable words to bawl out a salesman who had made a mistake in handling a substantial purchase I had made. I did have a right, in my mind, to be upset, however the guy was trying to apologize for the mistake, and I interrupted him and let him have it. And afterward, I felt terrible about it. Why so angry, James? The guy’s just trying to get by, just like me.

A lot of people try to tell me it’s the politics of the day. Whatever your political opinion is, if you share it, someone has to immediately let you know in no uncertain terms how unbelievably stupid you are, as if you didn’t already know you were stupid. We’re all stupid, buddy. It makes us feel better, though, to let someone else know that we are slightly less stupid than they are.

I’ve had some of these political exchanges, and no matter how good anyone’s point is, they are essentially pointless. Nothing is accomplished. We know this, but we can’t resist posting that comment, anyway, can we? The pigs are in the mud, and we’ve got to dive in there and wrestle with those pigs, and everyone gets so muddy that no one can tell who the pigs are.

And now, all the pig-lovers out there are composing their angry letters, along with a few representatives of the pork producing industry. You know nothing about pigs, you dumb writer-guy. That’s what they’re going to tell me. I’m stupid, when it comes to pigs. And they’ll be right. I really am woefully uninformed on the topic of pigs. Shame on me.

It isn’t just politics, though. I can make a conscious, deliberate effort to avoid politics altogether, and that proverbial dead cat will still whack someone in the head.

You can’t share basic information about current events. Do yourself a disfavor sometime and check out any Facebook post that shares actual facts and information regarding COVID-19. Read the comments. It’s a brutal civil war between the states of Half-Wit-Land and Moron-itaville. It’s just a list of facts, people. It’s innocuous. Being angry about them won’t change them. Read them, or don’t. Learn something, or don’t. Move on. Settle down.

You can’t discuss sports. The Minnesota Vikings, my favorite NFL team, has been terrible this season. That’s just a fact. They lost again on Sunday, but they played a little better, and I commented about it on social media, trying to be a little positive in this moment of Viking dread. I immediately learned that I am a complete loser, a Pollyanna who obviously knows nothing about football and nothing about the Minnesota Vikings and I would be doing the world a favor if I jumped off a ledge. And those were the supportive replies, from the people who agreed with me.

You can’t discuss music. A friend on Facebook was making fun of an old Air Supply song in a post. I’m no fan of Air Supply by any stretch of the imagination. They were cheesy balladeers from Australia who had a bunch of sugary hits in the early 80s, but I actually like that song. Heck, I like a little bit of just about any kind of music.

I expressed that opinion, knowledgeably and politely. My friend was real cool about it, and we had a couple of laughs. Some of his friends, though, who I’ve never met, decided that I needed some schooling, and a firm talking to, because they don’t like a song that I like. It was unbelievably condescending. I’m like, whatever, dude. Show me on the doll where Air Supply hurt you. I like the movie “Space Jam,” too. I’m artistically unrefined, I guess. Have at me.

And speaking of movies, never go on Twitter and let the world know that you actually enjoyed the last Star Wars movie. I did. It seems as though there’s a contract on my life, now, financed by some very bitter people. How dare I enjoy something that they did not? In fact, some who attacked me watched that movie seven or eight times, just so they could find more things they hated about it. They are that dedicated to being angry at people who liked it.

I guess my only point is, we’re all too angry, about everything and nothing. I don’t know why, but let’s just try to stop it. It’s not cool.

I’ll let you go, now, so you can finish ripping me a new one in that rage-filled email you’re writing. Have at me. Give me your best shot.

You’re definitely slightly less stupid than I am. Wear that badge with pride.

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Task force recommends Charles City exit the NEIC, form new athletic conference

9/18/2020

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Charles City Press, 9-18-20
By James Grob, jgrob@charlescitypress.com

CHARLES CITY PRESS ARTICLE

A racial incident on a baseball field in Waverly in June may have been the straw that broke the back of the Northeast Iowa Conference.

“The incident made us really question not only the continued partnership with our athletic and activities conference, but also the sustainability of the conference,” said Charles City Superintendent of Schools Mike Fisher. “The NEIC has had several challenges as a conference here recently, and a history of sportsmanship issues has resurfaced.”

The Charles City Board of Education heard a recommendation Monday from the recently-established conference realignment committee, which was charged with looking into the possibility of Charles City athletics leaving the Northeast Iowa Conference.

Chris Rygh of Long View Facilitation, Activities Director Todd Forsyth and several Charles City student-athletes who were on the committee told the board they recommend Charles City leave the NEIC and form a new conference.

“Specifically, we asked if it was wise and healthy to belong to a conference where issues of fairness, equity and sportsmanship seem to be administered differently across conference members,” Rygh said.

The recommendation is for Charles City to exit the Northeast Iowa Conference within two years, and form its own conference and recruit schools into the conference that share Charles City’s values of character and competence.

Fisher said he will make a formal recommendation for action at the next school board meeting.

The district formed the task force — made up of students, coaches, staff members, board members, parents and alumni — after racist jeers were directed at Charles City outfielder Jeremiah Chapman during a varsity baseball game this past June.

The Charles City School District wasn’t satisfied with Waverly-Shell Rock’s response to the incident. In a statement released in August, Waverly-Shell-Rock said it is had “completed an extensive investigation into reports.”

W-SR stated that it did not identify who yelled the comments, but did say “all individuals involved are students” as the reason it could not release “specific findings and actions relating to this matter.”

The W-SR statement said, “Heckling and taunting of any kind is not tolerated behavior for any spectators at our games, especially where this behavior is directed at a person or group based on race, color, or any other personal characteristic” and said that that the district “is taking appropriate measures in response to this incident.”

Fisher said he was not satisfied with that response.

“All the answers we got were just lip service, to be honest, in the hope that we would let the issue go away,” Fisher said. “This is something that our kids at Charles City have had to endure generationally, and we are not going to just let it go anymore.”

Fisher said that despite repeated attempts to initiate change since then, Charles City has been unable to get a satisfactory remedy for the poor sportsmanship issues, from the NEIC or from the Iowa High School Athletic Association.

“We’ve had this conversation about sportsmanship, and nothing ever comes from it,” Fisher said. “There just isn’t an appetite for bold change, and we’re demanding bold change.”

Chapman was one of the student-athletes on the task force, and said that he was glad that Charles City was taking action.

“I’m a senior in high school, and I’ve experienced more racism, sexism and other prejudice from one of our partner schools than I ever thought I would have,” Chapman said. “I feel like it’s sad that we’ve let this go on for so long. Even though it won’t affect me, I would like to be able to say I’ve changed that culture for the generations behind me.”

Last month, Charles City asked for a “one-year, penalty-free moratorium” for Charles City refusing to play the involved partner school during the 2020-21 academic year. Charles City leadership also made clear that “if these expectations are not met, we will pursue new conference partnerships.”

“I will not send our kids into harm’s way,” Fisher said. “I will not send our kids into a situation where they will be harassed and bullied without consequences. I cannot ethically do that.”

Fisher said he has heard many stories about some of the unhealthy relationships between NEIC schools.

“It’s not something recent,” he said. “It’s been over many years.”

School board member Pat Rottinghaus, who was on the task force, agreed.

“It’s a lot longer than the last 10 years,” she said. “Some of this has been going on for generations. There were people on the task force who competed in the conference 20-plus years ago, who said that this was a problem then.”

Student-athlete Cole White, a senior, said he has personally experienced poor sportsmanship from surrounding schools that he found “immensely offensive.”

“I know it’s happening. I’ve tried to stop it, but there’s nothing I can do,” White said. “I’m glad that now we can look at the bigger picture.”

Activities Director Forsyth said he had “very mixed emotions” about the recommendation, as he grew up competing in the NEIC, and the conference has a storied, 100-year history — it’s celebrating its centennial this year.

“But when you look at the future of the conference and what’s the best direction for our kids, I really think we can be the leader in this change, and it can be a real positive for our kids,” Forsyth said. “I’m very excited, and believe this is the best direction for our kids and our community.”

Charles City was one of the founding member schools of the NEIC in 1920. Charles City left the conference in 1939, then rejoined during the 1946-47 school year, and has been a member since then.

The same seven schools have made up the NEIC since 1970 — Charles City, New Hampton, Waverly-Shell Rock, Oelwein, Crestwood, Decorah and Waukon. It will have only six schools starting in 2021, when Oelwein, another founding member school, joins the North Iowa Cedar League. If Charles City leaves as well, Fisher said that he didn’t think the conference would be able continue with just five teams.

The smallest school is New Hampton, and Waverly-Shell Rock has more than twice New Hampton’s enrollment. Although the NEIC is most known for athletics, it also sponsors a music festival, a leadership conference and other academic events.

Rygh said the conference has shown a long pattern of “inconsistent administration of discipline and ethical conduct.”

“If one school violates the covenant, currently the others are powerless to address the violation in any meaningful way,” Rygh said, and added that other schools have no recourse to address the misconduct of any one school. “They just have to put up with it.”

“We felt that our students at Charles City have a right to expect a safe and fair platform for athletic competition, where they and their opponents are accountable for their ethical and moral behavior, on the field and off,” he said. “They have a right, even in visiting stadiums, to be surrounded by respectful, spirited and welcoming students and fans.”

Fisher said he has talked to 10 other schools already, and all 10 have expressed interest in joining a new conference, including most of the current NEIC members.

He said the working name of the conference is the “Northeast Iowa Rivers Conference,” and it will be tagged as the “Conference of Character.”

“You would see something that might be very similar to the NEIC, but better,” Fisher said. “We could set up this conference for the next 100 years. It won’t be just about wins and losses, it will be about building better human beings.”

He said the conference by-laws would reflect that vision, as would the schools invited to join the conference. He said that if the board approves the recommendation, it would begin a two-year process of forming the new league.

“We know that nothing will ever be perfect,” Fisher said. “Our kids will make mistakes, and other kids will make mistakes. It’s how we respond to those mistakes, and how we hold people accountable, that’s important.”
Forsyth said that in the last few years, Charles City has put a priority on improving sportsmanship among its athletes and coaches.

“As an athletic department, we are asking ourselves what we can do to be better,” Forsythe said. “We want other schools in our conference to have the same mindset, so that we can improve each other. That’s something we will strive for in a new conference.”

Forsyth said that Charles City has looked into the possibility of joining an existing conference, but that the logistics of travel between schools of similar size make that difficult. He said the district is finding that there are many schools that are looking for the same thing Charles City is looking for in a partnership.

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Memories of Marilyn Gallo, with love and respect

9/17/2020

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Guest Editorial
Oelwein Daily Register
9-17-2020

From the senior editorial staff of the Husky Register, 1985-86

It was with deepest regret that we, the senior staff of the OCHS Husky Register in the school year 1985-86, learned the news of the recent passing of one of our mentors, Marilyn Gallo, at the age of 94.

We were comforted to learn that she left this world peacefully, with her family by her side. We offer our sincere sympathies to her family and closest friends, and we hope and pray that warm memories of Marilyn will help ease the pain from your loss.

Immediate memories washed through our brains when we heard the news, mostly of strawberries. Marilyn loved strawberry decor. It put a smile on her face that was contagious. A gift that included a strawberry wouldn’t change your grade, but it sure didn’t hurt.

We shared memories of leaving school and driving to the Oelwein Daily Register office each Monday to see final prepress layouts, hoping that the copy desk had somehow magically made the content fit on the page.

Artist Russ Fagle even penned his first “Bud & Frankie” cartoon in 34 years, in Marilyn’s honor. Russ has visited Marilyn many times over the years and said he was thankful for all she taught him, as are the rest of us. Marilyn was our teacher-lady.

The year 1986 was a tough year to be a senior at Oelwein High School. The football team was one extra point away from a Northeast Iowa Conference championship. The basketball team was one shot away from the state tournament. Those are insignificant tragedies, though, when you remember that the space shuttle exploded that year. Then in the spring, two dear schoolmates drowned in a awful accident. So much more happened, some of it good, some of it bad.

We covered it all in the Husky Register. It appeared once a week on these pages in the Oelwein Daily Register, and sometimes we kids scooped the pros here. Marilyn loved when we did that.

The senior editorial staff at the Husky Register in 1986 was a busy bunch, and collectively won more awards and accolades than any other staff under the tutelage of Marilyn Gallo. At least that’s what Marilyn told us once, and she would know. The Husky Register was her baby.

Steve Martin covered sports and recreation, Megan (Weber) Brough covered anything that needed covered, Russ Fagle drew editorial cartoons, Chris Kotscher took photos and developed film, Gary Walrath penned zany and abstract columns, James Grob did as much muckraking and trouble-making as he could get away with, and editor Christine (Batterson) Cheli kept everyone in line and on topic as best as she could.

And everyone — and we mean every one of us — reported and edited hard news the right way. Marilyn Gallo meant business.

Her toughness, however, was not what we remember the most. It was her kindness, her thoughtfulness, her strawberry smile. She cared that we learned, to be sure, but she cared about us, and we could tell.

She wasn't the first person to encourage any of us to write, but Marilyn was the first person to encourage us to write right. At the Husky Register, we had high ethical standards, we did not cut corners, we owned up to mistakes. Marilyn wouldn’t have it any other way.

And although only a few of us went on to become writers, those characteristics and work habits were instilled into us, and they’ve carried over into whatever occupations we’ve pursued. That’s teaching, and that’s what Marilyn Gallo did. If the rest of the world could have had just one semester with her, this would be far a better place.

As a writer, the extent of her vocabulary was beyond belief. In short, Marilyn Gallo had one hell of a lot of words at her disposal, and she knew how to use them, and she loved teaching us how to use them.

Once in a while Marilyn sent one of us a message. Nothing long-winded. Usually it was something along the lines of, “I liked your article. Very nice. How are the wife and kids?”

A little note like that would make you beam a little. Sometimes the little words mean the most. Marilyn taught us that.

And we’re reminded of author E.B. White, who wrote, "It is not often that someone comes along who is a true friend and a good writer."

No doubt, Marilyn Gallo was both.

With love and respect,
The senior editorial staff of the Husky Register, 1985-86 James Grob, Russ Fagle, Steve Martin, Christine (Batterson) Cheli, Christian Kotscher, Gary Walrath, Megan (Weber) Brough.

Obituary
Oelwein Daily Register
9-16-2020

From the family of Marilyn Gallo

Marilyn Gallo, 94, of Oelwein Passed away Tuesday September 15, 2020. Public visitation will be from 4:00-7:00 PM on Thursday September 17, 2020 at the Geilenfeld-Buehner Funeral Home in Oelwein. Private Funeral Mass will be held at 10:30 AM on Friday September 18, 2020 at Sacred Heart Catholic Church in Oelwein, and will be limited to family.

Interment will be in Woodlawn Cemetery at Oelwein. For condolences, please visit www.geilenfeldfh.com. Due to state and federal guidelines on gatherings regarding the COVID-19 pandemic, social distancing is required. Those in attendance are required to wear a mask.

Marilyn Gallo lived a full life. Intelligent, well-traveled, intellectually curious, highly educated, a voracious reader, and caring. Marilyn made a positive mark on many.

We, her children, consider ourselves lucky and proud to call her "Mom." Our dad, Vic Gallo, was fortunate to call Marilyn his wife for more than 50 years.
To many in Oelwein, Marilyn was a favorite teacher, a good friend, an involved citizen, an active member of her church, and a gifted writer. One could not accompany her downtown without slotting time for chats with her many friends. She was a gem!

Marilyn Louise Miller was born on September 18, 1925 in Sumner, lowa to Adolph and Helen Miller. She earned a BA in Journalism at the University of Iowa. Marilyn's professional life was that of a writer. It shaped her life.

Around Oelwein, Marilyn was best-known as Mrs. Gallo. For more than 25 years, she taught writing. Hundreds of Oelwein High School students benefited from her steady hand and tutelage. She loved teaching, and her students loved her. Teaching, however, was not her first calling. It was Journalism. Marilyn started in the newspaper business as a cub reporter at the Oelwein Daily Register, where Marilyn met our dad, Vic Gallo, who was a sportswriter.

The two were very different. Vic was gregarious, outgoing, and unafraid to state his opinion. Marilyn was none of that. She was more reserved, disliked the spotlight, and generally kept her opinions to herself. Still, they forged a functional, loving, lasting partnership.

Shortly thereafter, they migrated to Strawberry Point and bought an excellent small town weekly, The Press Journal. They did it all, from running the press to selling ads, to writing copy. Marilyn's weekly column, "Strawberries 'n Cream,” won many state writing awards. Once, a fan of the column sent her a strawberry plate, in honor of those awards. That became the seed for her passion for all things strawberry.

Vic and Marilyn had six children, Kathy, Tom, Mary, Matt, John and Joe. In 1966 the Gallos sold the paper and moved to Des Moines, where they lived for seven eventful years. Marilyn taught at St. Joseph's Academy while in Des Moines.

Predictably, Marilyn didn't use a rocking chair in her retirement. Instead, she traveled all over the world, and read, read, read. She was a local volunteer and continued to write. In addition to her frequent letters and e-mails to family and friends, Marilyn became active in the Oelwein Writers League. Occasionally, her work appears in the Oelwein Daily Register, but mostly she wrote to stay agile. She also loved politics. She loved Rachel Maddow, and will be VERY sorry to miss this election!

Marilyn has slowed down some in her 94th year, but remained remarkable to the very end. We were blessed and honored to call her our mom. We will treasure her memory always.

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When your 6-year-old turns 31

9/15/2020

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Charles City Press, 9-15-20

A little over 25 years ago, I watched a little girl shooting baskets all by herself.

She was 6 years old. The hoop was at regulation height — much too tall for her — and she was using a regulation-size basketball.

She missed. And missed. And missed — over and over again. Her shots weren’t even close. She didn’t yet have the strength to throw the ball up that high, let alone make a basket. It was a hopeless endeavor.

But she kept on shooting, all by herself. She missed shot after shot for nearly a half hour.

And I began to wonder what kind of relentless little creature I was dealing with here. How can a human being be content to keep trying to do something that she is so clearly incapable of doing? How can someone handle that kind of constant disappointment?

I guess to her, each shot was just another opportunity.

She was my daughter. As her father, I made an executive decision to lower the basket for her. She didn’t seem happy about it. She wasn’t shooting at the “real” basket anymore. But she started to make some shots, and it was good.

Eventually I taught her how to shoot a basketball, and she learned how to shoot well — better than most. Better than I ever was.

A few years later, in high school, she wasn’t given the opportunity to show that skill off all that much. She played, and she played hard, but she wasn’t a star, and when she missed once she wasn’t often given a second chance. Such is the nature of high school sports.

When she didn’t have the “hot hand” she was quickly pulled from the game and placed on the bench.

At the time, I thought that was lousy coaching, and I still do. I’d seen enough basketball to know that a shooter needs to get into a rhythm, that even the best shooters miss about half of their shots, and dammit, who do you think you are, putting my little girl on the bench?

I considered taking a meeting with the coach, where I could very carefully explain some of these things to him.

Shut up, Dad. That’s what she usually told me. Stay out of it. Don’t embarrass me.

For her, just getting the opportunity to shoot always seemed to be enough.

And when she didn’t miss, man, it was sweet. Those rare occasions when she’d drill three or four 3-pointers in a row, that was worth all the frustration.

As far as I know, she doesn’t play much basketball anymore. She turns 31 today, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.

I recall a time almost 30 years ago, when I spent a day with a 1-year old girl, doing the kinds of activities that 1-year-olds do. We played, we laughed, we read books, we made silly sounds. We had fun.

That evening, before the 1-year old’s bedtime, I noticed she was repeating, word-for-word, some of the same things I had said earlier in the day. I noticed her mannerisms — the way she moved her hands, the way she turned her head — were perfectly accurate imitations of my own. She was mimicking my facial expressions as well.

This frightened me more than a little bit, because it got me to thinking. If this little, impressionable person hangs around with me enough, she will act the way I act. Did I want a child to act the way I act? And also, what did I say today? Because I really hope I didn’t curse out loud or make an inappropriate comment.

There was a time when her grandparents were visiting, and we were all watching cartoons with her. She wasn’t quite 2 years old. The cartoon had a couple little squirrels in it, and they were hoarding acorns, and at one point thousands of acorns started falling and pouring into a house, completely filling it with nuts, from floor to ceiling.

This seemed to be very upsetting to my almost 2-year-old. She turned to us with a worried look and said, in an excited, 2-year-old voice, “God damn!”

Her grandparents looked at me. They looked at me with disapproval. I had taught their granddaughter how to swear. Not a proud moment for me.

I promise I taught her some good things, too. I don’t remember them all, exactly, but I’m sure I did.

She turned out OK, despite my best efforts. She’s out in California, on her own, and she’s good at what she does. She communicates with me often, by phone call or text message. We threaten to come visit each other, and we laugh a lot, about a lot of different things. It always feels good to get a message from her.

But it isn’t the same. She’s not here next to me. I can’t tell her “happy birthday” to her face today. I can’t give her a hug.

I miss her smiling sweetly at me to keep me from getting angry, and impressing me with the way she keeps her wits about her when most others would be frantic. I miss that she’s not here goofing off in order to make me laugh at those times when I really don’t want to.

She’s not a kid anymore, but she’s still my kid. Sometimes you want your kid with you.

She’s not here to say, “I love you, Daddy,” at a moment when I most need to hear those four words.

I miss that when she’s going through tough times, I can’t talk to her coach and straighten him out. When she’s hurting, when she’s struggling, when she doesn’t have the “hot hand,” all I can offer is kind words of advice, from 2,000 miles away.

“When you’re in a slump, just keep shooting,” I told her once. “Find your rhythm. Even the best shooters miss half their shots.”

I think that was good advice, and a good analogy, and I think she takes it to heart. Each shot is just another opportunity.

But I can’t lower the basket for her anymore. That’s what I miss the most.

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The problem with voting in America

9/9/2020

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The problem is, as Americans, we’re so spoiled that we think that every time we make any decision, we’re supposed to immediately receive some wonderful, gratifying reward for that decision.

There is no real reward for voting, except maybe a little sticker that says “I voted.” It’s simply the execution of a civil responsibility. It’s like paying taxes, staying informed, obeying the law, participating in your community and respecting your neighbors. We don’t necessarily get anything out of those things, we don’t usually enjoy doing these things, we just do them because that’s how civilizations work, and each of us needs to be part of that.

Sure, sometimes when the person you vote for wins, you’re glad about it. But unless you’re deeply invested in that person, that feeling is fleeting at best. There’s no pie. There’s no cash reward. Things might eventually change, but it happens so gradually that you hardly notice. There is no gratification. There isn’t supposed to be.

We want every decision we make to be a wonderful choice between wonderful things. We want voting to be “should I get chocolate or should I get strawberry? They’re both so delicious, I wish I could get both.”

We want voting to be, “should I order steak or chicken?” or “should I binge-watch Breaking Bad or the original Star Wars movies?” or “should we go to the ball game or the casino?”

When we vote, we want to ask ourselves, “which of these two fantastic people do I love more?”

We should be asking ourselves, “which of these two assholes is less likely to fuck everything up?”

Figure that out for yourself, make an informed decision, and pull a lever.

Voting is a duty, not a game, not a show. It’s not really even a competition, even though it seems like it with all the campaigning.

Vote because it’s your responsibility, not because it’s going to make you feel good.

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Let’s not blame the kids for COVID

9/1/2020

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Charles City Press, 9-1-20

I saw the photos, and I have to admit they made me cringe a little.

Crowds of kids at our state’s colleges and universities, hundreds of them — maybe thousands — crowded together, shoulder to shoulder, dancing, drinking beer, each having the time of his or her young life.

And, undoubtedly, they were spreading the virus.

They were definitely not keeping a social distance. And very few of them were wearing masks to protect others.

Sure enough, a couple of weeks after thousands of students returned to their college towns in Iowa, we had a huge spike in the COVID-19 numbers here in Iowa.

The statistics showed that 23 percent of all new positive cases in the state were adults aged 19-24. In Johnson County, where the University of Iowa is, that number was 69 percent. In Story County, where Iowa State University is, that number was 74 percent.

According to statistics reported by the New York Times and updated on Monday, Ames and Iowa City are now No. 1 and No. 2 per capita for new cases of COVID-19.

Although Iowa’s universities were reportedly the worst in the country, there were similar spikes everywhere colleges reopened. Somewhere around 1000 students at the University of Alabama, for example, have tested positive since school started there.

“Darn those blasted kids,” I heard several of my fellow old people saying, although we were using words stronger than “darn,” and “blasted.” And then, all the greatest hits about the younger generations began spinning on the proverbial turntable.

They’re ignorant, these kids. They’re reckless. They think they’re going to live forever. They think they know everything when they actually know nothing. They’re self-centered and have no regard for others. They feel entitled, and believe the world owes them something.

Let’s conveniently forget that we’re the ones who raised them. And never mind the fact that however old you are, when you were young, the older generation was saying all those same things about you. They said you were spoiled, they said you were lazy, they called you irresponsible. Guess what? There’s a pretty good chance you were. Then you grew up a little, probably, and changed.

Many of you did, anyway. Some of you didn’t change. And some of you who didn’t change got yourselves elected to public office.

Iowa Gov. Kim Reynolds, for example, shut down the bars in six Iowa counties last week, including the two aforementioned counties where our biggest universities are. This was a reaction to the photos from the college parties and the spike in COVID-19 numbers that followed.

If she runs for re-election, an honest campaign slogan might be, “Reynolds: Too Little, Too Late.”

The governor’s order will likely be about as effective as putting a condom on after sex.

Never mind the fact that people are amazingly mobile, these days, and perfectly capable of driving their horseless carriages across county lines to find an open bar, and then drive home again after a night of drinking.

Experts urged Reynolds to mandate stronger COVID-19 protocols months ago. She did not do that. We’re paying for it now, and we’re blaming it on those doggone college kids.

For a few weeks in the spring, we closed a lot of things down in Iowa. It was the responsible thing to do, although it wasn’t an easy thing to do. Understandably, it wasn’t popular among the many businesses who were losing tons of cash, and the many employees who couldn’t earn an honest living without assistance.

Gov. Reynolds, to her credit, took the heat and did the responsible thing at the time. And it helped. The COVID spread slowed considerably, and the “curve began to flatten,” as they say. There were still outbreaks in some expected places, such as meat packing plants and senior homes, but we could concentrate on helping those people and keeping the spread reasonably contained.

And then, restrictions were lifted. It didn’t take long for Iowa’s case counts and positivity rates to start rising again. Reynolds, it seems, governed as if they weren’t. It was more important to “reopen our economy.”

A White House task force in July recommended that Iowa close bars, limit social gatherings, mandate masks and impose several other restrictions in several places in the state where the virus was roaring back. We did not do that.

Over and over again, Reynolds and many others have said that COVID-19 is mainly a problem for us old people and those with underlying health conditions. Reynolds has insisted that all public schools reopen for on-site learning, at all levels, regardless of conditions at the local level.

She pulled rank on local school boards, public health boards and city councils. The long-time conservative ideals of “local control” and “keep the government out of people’s lives” were forgotten, when it came to the schools. The students are not at high risk for infection, insisted many people who do not know that for sure.

President Trump actually said that children are “almost immune” from COVID. That’s dangerously short-sighted and inaccurate, but Reynolds has echoed that statement with her action — and even more so with her lack of action.

So why should we be surprised when younger people get back together, they literally get back together? They have no fear of violating social distancing norms, because they don’t think they can get sick, because that’s what they believe they’ve been told.

Plus, they’re kids. They want to get together, they want to party, they think they’re going to live forever, they don’t think about things like spreading germs. And we — the responsible adults — have given them official permission to not think about that.

New COVID-19 hospitalizations in the state of Iowa are higher now than they were in June. Per capita, our state is currently one of the most infectious regions in the entire world.

Before it’s all over, at least one person you know is going to die before his or her time, due to COVID-19.

When that happens, don’t blame the kids. They were just being kids. They think they know everything, when in fact they know nothing.

This one’s on us. We’re supposed to know better.

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