As much of a caricature as he is, I’ve still got to admire a man like Donald Trump. His bizarre feud with Rosie and Barbara notwithstanding, I’ve always respected Trump’s awareness of his own tremendous ego, and the unabashed honesty which it engenders.

I’ll confess here to being a longtime fan of Trump’s network TV job interview, “The Apprentice.” It’s high on kitsch of course, but I can’t help but marvel at his business savvy, and the way in which he dismisses his hopeful job candidates …

“You’re fired!”

It’s become a popular catchphrase, but it’s not one you’ll hear in Chenango County – at least not on the record. You see, in the land of political correctness that we’ve apparently acquiesced into, no one in Chenango County gets fired anymore. At least from a public position.

They’re “dismissed.” Sometimes “let go.” Often they leave “for personal reasons” or to “pursue other opportunities.” It’s almost always a “mutual decision.” Once in a while it’s even a “parting of the ways” or a “change in direction.” But no one is ever, ever “fired.”

The few times I’ve dared to use that nasty word in the paper regarding a public official, I’ve been chastised for it, usually by the person who did the ax-lowering, sometimes by the person who got the ax.

Years ago, I got into a spat with a P&G public relations hack who insisted that a score of employees weren’t “fired.” No, it seems the people who lost their jobs were “involuntarily separated.” Lord love a duck.

Just recently, when the Chamber’s CEO was “let go,” I erred on the side of caution and did not use the word “fired” in the newspaper. Instead, a subhead said “ousted.” I’ve since been informed that “ousted” is also a nasty word. I can’t win.

I don’t know when we became afraid to call a spade a spade. Or when we started calling inmates “consumers,” for that matter. All I know is, I’m all for Donald Trump and his refreshing bluntness. A couple years back, an employee of mine who saw the writing on the wall said during our final closed-door meeting, “You’re letting me go, aren’t you?” “No,” I said. “I’m firing you.”

And it felt good.

Good friends are hard to find.

But if you already had them, they’re easy to re-find, and maybe it’s when we need them the most that we do.

These friends I speak of died in a car accident at Colgate University. Rachel Nargiso, Emily Collins, and Katie Almeter. REK. And They’ve probably been gone for longer than I was ever friends with them here on earth.

Six years after the accident, It’s taken me this much time to begin figuring out that understanding they are dead is different than understanding what their death means. I got that from their moms and dads.

For the parents, it means that one of the best of them is still one of the best of them, just gone to somewhere else, where we can only imagine what it’s like.

It means that although gone, the best of them left the best behind.

It also means that for whatever reason, our own lives might start to have more of a mystical quality when we believe that our future is uncertain, but life itself is beautiful, unexplainable, and precious – and what we make it.

Sorry to get all “Misty” on you, but that is what my friends called me when they were alive (it’s a really funny story that involves a certain menthol cigarette brand that’s marketed for, and popular among independent and classy women).

Perhaps I should allow this topic to die, but I am unable to do so. Since I wrote an editorial on global warming two weeks ago, I have talked to several people who feel there is no such thing. I have no wish to argue with anyone over the reality or the fiction of this topic, however, I am going to.

Democrats and liberals have been preaching the effects of global warming for years, but recently even the Bush administration has jumped on board. The Bush administration has admitted that polar bears are in danger of extinction due to melting ice on the arctic sea, going so far as to say it is a direct result of global warming. There is a concerted effort being made to put the polar bears on the endangered species list as a result.

I have heard many arguments over the past weeks. People have many explanations for the recent weather and why global warming is not really an issue at all, however, I cannot believe that 73 degree temperatures in Central Park in the beginning of January is a natural occurrence. It is true that throughout history, temperatures have fluctuated, but is that really reason enough to stick our heads in the sand and say it has nothing to do with the huge hole in the ozone layer and the amount of damaging green-house gas emissions released into the atmosphere each year.

I’m not trying to preach or to convince everyone to become tree-hugging environmentalists. I just think it is important to be aware of what is going on in the world around us. Numerous scientists, who know much more than I, are convinced that global warming is having a serious effect on the planet, and now that the Bush administration, who has denied the severity of the issue throughout their entire tenure of office, has jumped on the band wagon, I see little reason to deny the likelihood of this concept.

I had the pleasure of meeting Joshua Palmer this past Saturday.

Like me, Josh is 24, a high school graduate from the year 2000, and he’s strikingly handsome (I’m good looking – just ask my mom).

Unlike me, he’s a responsible father of two (I just look pregnant), a caring and loving husband (my nickname is couch and chain), and he’s a two-tour veteran of Iraq – who’s awaiting the word to possibly head back for a third.

When I first saw Josh I thought he was at least thirty. He looks and acts how I envision myself to be when I’m all grown-up, which apparently – going on his age (24), appearance, demeanor, and accomplishments – should probably have happened already. There’s nothing that can make you feel like more of a jack#@& than being in the presence of someone who is generally a better person than you, especially when you, and everyone around you, knows it.

Not trying to get to down on myself, but having an experience like meeting Josh Palmer can really help you to – and I’m sorry for using this played out phrase – put things in perspective. I think I’m a good person, don’t get me wrong, but when I feel bad that I have to work a 12 hour day, or go out at night to cover an event in bad weather, I really need to “put things in perspective.”

Josh has a six month old daughter, and doing some simple math (subtracting six months from his recently wrapped up one year in Iraq) I’m guessing he never met his daughter until a few weeks ago when he got home. He also has an 18 month-old, who he’s presumably only spent half a year with.

I get sad if my cats don’t pay attention to me. I can’t imagine being in the shadow of a war, having young children I barely know living a world away.

I can’t give enough credit, or even relate to men and women like Josh Palmer, who despite their fear and heartsickness, have faith enough in God, America, or whatever, to leave their families behind to enter into the darkest of places – in some cases for years.

I know my family is proud of me. Josh Palmer’s family is definitely proud of him. But my family doesn’t cherish the last time we watched television together. They don’t schedule their days to make sure they’re near the phone when I call. They don’t mark the minutes, hours and sometimes days I’m away from home. They’ve never had to say good-bye to me, reasonably unsure of whether or not they’d see me again. They don’t fear for my life each day. They’ve never had to describe to me a child I’d never seen, and possibly may not ever.

It’s because they take me for granted.

Just kidding.

It’s because even though my family is proud of what I’ve done, and they love me, it’s just not the same because they know I’m safe.

And I’m safe because of people like Josh Palmer. So thank our soldiers, because of them our families don’t love us like they should. Seriously, thanks for doing the things the rest of us can’t, we’ll be forever in your debt.