Flying high with Olympic fever

Community editor Tammy Malgesini muses on the oddities of this year’s Olympics.

By Tammy Malgesini

Staff Writer

Published on February 20, 2018 5:54PM

I’m a Winter Olympics junkie, but several things connected with things happening in PyeongChang have me scratching my head.

Reminiscent of “the artist formerly known as Prince,” the Russian competitors are being referred to as Olympic Athletes from Russia. This is the International Olympic Committee’s way of allowing Russian athletes a chance to compete despite the misdeeds of their fellow countrymen and widespread cheating through a government doping program.

They can’t be referred to as the Russian team, they aren’t allowed to wear their country’s colors, they can’t carry the Russian flag or play the national anthem and medals won won’t go toward the Russian medal count total in history books. But, evidently they can still use banned substances.

Even with the vetting process, an Olympic curler from Russia tested positive in a preliminary test for a banned substance over the weekend. Seriously, though, curling?

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy watching grown men and women slide around on ice while using a Swiffer to clear the way. But I question why a curling athlete would even need a performance-enhancing drug.

Over the weekend, I was impressed with a seemingly profound statement by Cammi Granato regarding the United States women’s hockey team. A former Olympian — she’s a 1998 gold medal and 2002 silver medal winner in hockey — she’s qualified to give an insider’s view. I said seemingly, however, because when a Folgers commercial came on, I realized she pretty much stole the statement from the coffee company.

However, that’s not the biggest theft that has occurred during the 2018 Olympics — that honor (or dishonor) goes to Elizabeth Swaney, a U.S. citizen who represented Hungary in the women’s freeski halfpipe.

It seems she manipulated her way into the Olympics by grabbing onto her grandparent’s Hungarian heritage and then traveling around the world to compete in low-attended competitions. She “earned” an Olympic berth by placing in the top 30 of the required number of competitions, which wasn’t hard since some contests didn’t even draw 15 athletes.

She did all this without so much as performing what competitors consider tricks. The key was to stay upright and finish.

I’m not even bragging when I say I could do better than her. However, I know I don’t possess the skills of an Olympic athlete — that’s why I’m at home watching from my daybed rather than strapping skis on and pretending to be an elite athlete.

My favorite part of the Olympics is short track speed skating. And its relay event — they call it organized chaos — is the bomb. My co-workers seem to think that statement resembles the condition of my desk area.

The thing with short track is I have to wait four years to see it. Unlike many other Olympic events, short track competitions held throughout the year aren’t televised.

When my head felt like it would explode last Tuesday, I decided to stay home. When I discovered that short track was being televised, it made the decision that much easier. I feel a relapse coming on this Thursday.

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Tammy Malgesini is the community editor. Her column, Inside my Shoes, includes general musings about life. Contact her at tmalgesini@eastoregonian.com or 541-564-4539.

‘Random’ process results in jury duty, again

By Tammy Malgesini

Staff Writer

Published on January 23, 2018 5:54PM

Four out of six staff writers in the news department will have the jury message line on speed dial during the month of February.

What are the odds? With the random process for jury duty, it seems the stars aligned in some bizarre fashion for this to occur.

I found out a few days after the new year that I was being summoned as a juror in the Umatilla County Circuit Court. My husband, John, came bounding up the stairs with an envelope in hand.

I didn’t even have to look at it. I knew.

I’m not the only one who doesn’t warmly embrace performing this civic duty. The Honorable Thomas Balmer, chief justice of the Oregon Supreme Court, acknowledges this fact.

“I know that jury service can be inconvenient but it’s an important and essential part of our democracy,” he said in a “Juror Experience Video.”

I must say, actually finding that video was grounds for serving the Umatilla & Morrow County Circuit Courts with “contempt of internet.” After clinking the link, I was greeted with the dreaded “404 Page Not Found” message.

With persistence, I finally found the video and watched the nearly 19-minute presentation. I’m not sure how long ago it was created, but they may want to consider updating it. Among those talking about the importance of jurors was Bernice Barnett, former Lincoln County district attorney, who hasn’t been in that role for more than a decade.

My husband and I have been summoned multiple times over the years. For a process that’s random, that seems odd — especially when numerous people tell me they’ve never served.

It’s not so much that I mind serving — if I actually got to sit in one of the 12 special seats. I’ve only been ushered into the courtroom on two occasions for the actual jury selection process.

However, I’ve had to drag myself out of bed on countless occasions and chug a sufficient amount of Pepsi in order to keep my eyes open — only to show up and be told the jury trial wasn’t happening. When I whined about that on Facebook, one of my old high school buddies responded.

“Thank you for your service! The jury system would not work without you,” wrote Martin Alvey.

As a trial lawyer, Martin knows first-hand how important the process is. And honestly, if I found myself in a courtroom, I would want people sitting in the jury box who took their responsibility seriously.

In August 2013, Judge Dan Hill expressed his gratitude for the jurors being there and being wiling to serve before excusing us. I appreciated that he took the time to come in to address us rather than sending in a court clerk to convey the message.

I truly do understand the importance of jury duty. In reality, it’s just a minor inconvenience. Considering all the rights and freedoms I have as a citizen of this country, the least I can do is be willing to perform this important civic duty.

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Tammy Malgesini is the community editor. Her column, Inside my Shoes, includes general musings about life. Contact her at tmalgesini@eastoregonian.com or 541-564-4539.

Resolving to be more like my dog

Community editor Tammy Malgesini bases her New Year’s resolutions on what she admires about her dogs.

By Tammy Malgesini

Staff Writer

Published on January 2, 2018 4:52PM

What’s the point of making a New Year’s resolution?

Most studies indicate the majority of people that actually make resolutions don’t achieve them. For those who do decide to make New Year’s resolutions, it’s suggested to only tackle one. And according to a recent poll from Marist College in New York, the most popular is “being a better person.”

Studies show that dog owners can take a lesson from their canine kids in regards to becoming better people. So, in 2018 I will take cues from the General, my somewhat quirky 5-year-old German shepherd, and Lucifer, my husband’s majestic 8-year-old German shepherd. In the coming year, I will follow their lead by incorporating the following into my life:

•RELAX: According to the American Kennel Club, dogs typically sleep about 50 percent of the time. While I’m not going to sleep half the year away, I will further embrace the value of naps. Also, relaxing will include slowing down and taking time for myself — whether that’s reading, taking a walk or engaging in other hobbies.

•EXCITEMENT: Even though Lucifer and the General’s lives are pretty routine, they enjoy the sights, smells and sounds of daily walks. In addition, the General’s exuberant yelp when he realizes he gets to hang out with me at work is absolutely priceless.

While I can’t promise that I’ll howl with excitement, I’ll look for ways to spice up routine activities. Although I won’t feel compelled to mark everything along the way, I will attempt to stop and smell the flowers, which is going to be extremely exciting this spring. As one of my Christmas gifts, John revealed that he purchased and planted more than two dozen tulip bulbs.

•SIMPLE THINGS: Whether it’s riding shotgun to the store or getting leftovers from a dinner out, our dogs are thrilled by little things. While I thoroughly look forward to taking trips and going out for special occasions, I will take steps to initiate small things that touch the lives of others — meeting my friends for coffee, making a favorite meal for my husband and regularly sending cards or letters to my parents.

•BOUNDARIES: John and I have found that our dogs respond better with structure. It reduces acting out and behavioral issues. For me, it’s important to maintain boundaries regarding relationships and workloads.

When I’m feeling stress or have too much on my plate, I don’t dig holes in the yard or tear up a newspaper. However, rather than trying to be superwoman while my blood pressure skyrockets, it will be much healthier for me to talk about what’s happening and sometimes saying no.

•UNCONDITIONAL LOVE: Regardless if I’m happy or sad, my dogs are there for me. They don’t care if I’m having a bad hair day, if I haven’t showered or if I’ve put on five pounds. They love me. Period.

While I won’t be wagging my tail or licking other’s faces, I can certainly take a big lesson from Lucifer and the General in expressing love, care and concern to those in my pack, including my husband, parents and my chosen sisters.

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Tammy Malgesini is the community editor. Her column, Inside my Shoes, includes general musings about life. Contact her at tmalgesini@eastoregonian.com or 541-564-4539.

Turkey trials: Perfecting a traditional holiday meal

By Tammy Malgesini

Staff Writer

Published on November 20, 2017 7:10PM

If you’re stressing out about preparing a Thanksgiving turkey, I may be able to offer some tips.

I recently read that most people only roast whole turkeys once or twice a year. That doesn’t provide much of an opportunity for practice makes perfect.

I’m no expert. In fact, I can count how many whole turkeys I’ve made in my life on one hand. Actually, I can do it with a peace sign.

That’s right, I’ve thawed, stuffed and roasted a total of two turkeys in nearly 58 years. To maintain the tradition, I’m due to make another one in 2047.

Although I’ve only prepared two big birds, I have perfected the process of making a traditional Thanksgiving meal, complete with turkey and stuffing that tastes like it came right out of the bird.

But really, to stuff or not to stuff is a personal choice. Some people fear food poisoning due to bacteria from the bird’s cavity absorbing into the stuffing. The turkey isn’t some sort of decoration to be admired. Put the bird in the oven right after stuffing it. Problem solved.

Rather than a whole bird, I now purchase turkey breasts. This remedies the issue of wasted dark meat since John and I prefer white meat.

I used to prepare the stuffing in a casserole dish. While it was good, it lacked the unique moistness of stuffing that has baked inside a turkey.

To replicate the in-the-bird taste, I decided to layer the turkey with stuffing in between. I may not win any culinary prizes for attractive appearances, but the end result is mighty tasty. And, there are plenty of leftovers for turkey sandwiches, much to the delight of my husband.

However, layered turkey breasts eliminates the whole bird presentation and an opportunity to show off your carving prowess. I don’t view my food as dining room décor, so it’s all good. And, I have issues with knives.

I suppose if I wanted my food to be pretty, I could modify the technique to create a stuffed turkey roll. To do that, you butterfly the turkey breast, pound it out to an even thickness, top it with a layer of stuffing, roll it into a long cylinder, tie it with kitchen twine and then roast it. That just seems like too much effort.

Creating the layered turkey breasts has solved several problems:

•I don’t have to worry about trussing the turkey. For those unfamiliar with the term, it’s like a cowboy roping a steer.

•The complicated process of carving a turkey. Jeffrey Elliot, who co-authored “Complete Book of Knife Skills,” offers 19 step-by-step instructions on the best way to carve a turkey. Seriously, 19!?!

•I no longer have to perform mathematical equations to figure out how long to allow for defrosting the bird. Not only is that headache avoided, the turkey doesn’t take up space in the refrigerator for days.

I love turkey. And, in the Malgesini household, turkey isn’t just for Thanksgiving anymore. However, John will be preparing homemade Italian pizza on Thursday. Happy Thanksgiving!

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Tammy Malgesini is the community editor. Her column, Inside my Shoes, includes general musings about life. Contact her at tmalgesini@eastoregonian.com or 541-564-4539.

Speaking out ... it’s #NotOkay

By Tammy Malgesini

Staff Writer

Published on October 31, 2017 5:53PM

I started writing this column last fall after the #NotOkay posts went viral on social media.

However, I never finished it. After seeing the recent #MeToo posts, I decided to pick up my pen again.

Both simple statements, they highlight issues surrounding sexual assault and sexual harassment. Mostly women have shared about their personal experiences as a way to show how prevalent the issues are and to empower themselves.

I’ve read recent reports that indicate one in three women have experienced sexual harassment at work. And, CBS news recently reported that an American is sexually assaulted every 98 seconds.

I don’t think much about my personal experiences regarding sexual harassment. Even as a young girl I had a strong sense of self and felt comfortable in speaking up. I knew what was happening was wrong and immediately took action. Fortunately, the people I talked to listened — and responded appropriately.

When I was in college I did a paid summer internship in personnel management at J.C. Penney in Coos Bay. I worked in multiple departments, including the automotive/sporting center annex.

I was working at the sporting center when one of the automotive center employees, who was about my same age, came over and was talking to me. As he walked away, he grabbed my butt.

Shortly afterward, I headed up to the main store to talk to Bill, the store manager. As I shared about the encounter, I told him I wasn’t even dressed provocatively.

That’s the thing with inappropriate encounters, sometimes people want to blame the victim for what happened. However, Bill immediately said it didn’t matter what I was wearing, it wasn’t appropriate for the employee.

And that wasn’t the first time I recall being faced with an inappropriate encounter.

That happened when I was in junior high. We were living in Phoenix, Oregon, and I was up the street visiting a friend.

My friend’s step-dad had just had knee surgery and was sitting on the couch with his leg stretched on a footstool. My friend had gone into the kitchen to help her mom with dinner when her step-dad exposed himself to me. My response was to give him a swift kick in the knee.

I recently had arthroscopic knee surgery and can’t even imagine the excruciating pain that would cause. It’s bad enough when one of our German shepherds accidentally bumps my foot or leg.

I understand sometimes people don’t always feel comfortable in talking about inappropriate situations. While it wasn’t related to sexual harassment, shortly after graduating from college I worked for an employer who had some questionable policies. I questioned a particular practice. However, it didn’t change.

I needed the job at the time, so I continued working there but didn’t follow the policy. While that wasn’t the best way to deal with the situation, I did report it later.

As unfortunate as it is, sometimes we overlook things or remain silent due to the potential consequences. It is my hope that as more people speak out it will effect change — whether in Hollywood, our statehouses or hometowns.

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Tammy Malgesini is the community editor. Her column, Inside my Shoes, includes general musings about life. Contact her at tmalgesini@eastoregonian.com or 541-564-4539.

Like a good neighbor State Farm is there ... but not at my number

By Tammy Malgesini

Staff Writer

Published on September 26, 2017 8:47PM

I get so tired of the continuous calls from telemarketers and the incredibly annoying, “This is your last chance regarding renewal of your car warranty.”

If only.

Seriously, do they really think after they’ve pestered me for the umpteenth time that I’m finally going to give in? I did get a short reprieve when I lied, saying I no longer owned said vehicle.

With all the robocalls and telephone scams I have a tendency to ignore calls from numbers I don’t recognize. I used to readily answer calls from local numbers. However, it seems scammers are spoofing people by disguising their number — often making it look like it’s a local phone number.

When John and I got rid of our landline, we still wanted a “home phone.” We got an additional cell phone with an unlisted number, which we’ve given out to very few people. So, imagine my surprise when it began ringing off the hook one morning last week.

After the third call, I finally answered. The gentleman asked if this was State Farm. I said no and hung up. The next call went the same way.

Then the fifth call was from a dude that identified himself as a State Farm agent in Hermiston. He indicated Eastern Oregon Telecom got some wires crossed and their office calls were being routed to my cell phone. Although their slogan says, “Like a good neighbor, State Farm is there” — it’s not at this number.

He asked what my phone number was. Due to all the scammers, I didn’t feel comfortable telling him. He said he understood, but again said who he was and described where his office was located, including businesses that are nearby.

Then another call came in — a female this time. She asked if I was State Farm. I told her no and let her know they were having problems with their phone lines. Then, the guy, who was in the background, spoke up. It seems they were still trying to test their phone.

By this time, Eastern Oregon Telecom had identified what number it appeared they were forwarding calls to and the State Farm agent wanted to confirm if that was my number. I hesitated. I’ve heard all kinds of scammer tricks, including how they will record you saying, “Yes,” and then use it to make money transfers or open accounts.

Trying to ascertain if he truly was in Hermiston — I would have driven down to the State Farm office but I was in Lincoln City — I decided to play Hermiston trivia. You know, ask questions that a local would readily know. I said, “Who is the mayor of Hermiston?” Ding, ding, ding, he got it right by saying Dave Drotzmann. Then I asked which former mayor died recently. He said he wasn’t so sure and then replied, “Bob of Bob’s Red Apple,” referring to Bob Severson. Although the correct answer is “Who is Frank Harkenrider?,” a scammer certainly couldn’t have known the connection with Mayor Bob.

I called Eastern Oregon Telecom and they finally got things figured out. Oh, and I do have a couple of phone messages for Jesse at State Farm.

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Tammy Malgesini is the community editor. Her column, Inside my Shoes, includes general musings about life. Contact her at tmalgesini@eastoregonian.com or 541-564-4539.

Lab work leads to awkward interaction

By Tammy Malgesini

Staff Writer

Published on September 12, 2017 7:03PM

It seems there are certain occupations where people think you’re always on duty.

I’m sure doctors get it all the time — running into patients at church or an athletic event. Some people think nothing of showing off a rash and wanting free medical advice.

As a journalist, I often have people approach me about doing stories — at community events (that I’m not covering), at the grocery store, at a restaurant eating dinner and even standing at Interpath Laboratory holding a container of my own urine.

Going to the lab to provide urine and blood samples already messes with my routine — especially the tests that require fasting.

It’s a delicate balancing act to go the required number of hours without consuming food, while drinking enough water to provide a urine specimen and still be a civil human being in public in a caffeine-deprived state because I haven’t had my morning Pepsi.

Because of my early week double deadlines, it’s most convenient for me to do lab work on a Thursday or Friday. On Sept. 1, the stars were finally aligning — although a late night snack nearly derailed the whole process.

I woke up in desperate need of Pepsi, but it had been nearly two weeks since the doctor called in the order for lab work. I knew I had to take care of it.

So, I finally make it to Interpath and the phlebotomist draws my blood sample. Since the urinalysis didn’t require fasting, she said I could take the bag and specimen bottle with me to do the UA at home if I wasn’t able to produce on demand. If I had planned to go home, that may have been a viable option.

However, I was headed to work and certainly had no interest in dealing with this in the work bathroom. The last thing I wanted to do was carry around a bottle of my own pee.

I produced the required specimen and exited the laboratory’s bathroom. Standing there holding a clear plastic bag which contained a clear plastic container with my urine, a woman who was getting her blood drawn by a different lab worker was staring at me. I smiled, because despite the caffeine deprivation, I’m generally a decent human being.

She said hello and introduced herself. I was dumbfounded — remember, I’m standing there with a plastic bag with a container of my own pee.

“OK,” I replied.

All I wanted was for my lab lady to re-appear so I could unload my specimen and be on my way. However, that didn’t occur and the woman then proceeded to tell me she was with some community group in town and she wanted to talk to me about her club.

I just stood there — flabbergasted that someone wanted me to engage in a discussion while I was standing there holding my own pee. Apparently, she noticed my reaction and asked, “Are you OK?”

I didn’t respond. It was surreal. I’m not sure how long the encounter lasted but the other lab worker interrupted the awkward interaction and directed me to my lab lady.

And, by the way, I wasn’t OK. I hadn’t eaten for nearly 12 hours, I was in desperate need of Pepsi and did I mention, I was holding a container of my own pee.

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Tammy Malgesini is the community editor. Her column, Inside my Shoes, includes general musings about life. Contact her at tmalgesini@eastoregonian.com or 541-564-4539.