About the guy who brings you “the view”

Y’all know the old John Mellencamp song “Small Town,” right?  Well, in the effort to get to know me, let’s start there.  Feel free to click and dance to this next video, but please do continue reading this while you listen.

I was born pretty much in the middle of nowhere, specifically in the town of Salmon, Idaho — about a 2 1/2-hour drive through the Bitterroot Mountains south of Missoula, Montana (made most famous by Robert Redford and Brad Pitt in the movie “A River Runs Through It,” one of my favorites … they even mentioned Lolo!!!) and about a 2 1/2-hour drive through sagebrush-covered desert land north of Idaho Falls (made famous by those Idaho Russets you might eat on occasion), at least until you get to the Lemhi Mountains outside of the town of Leadore, where I took my driver’s ed class, with a population of about 100 … and that might be stretching it.  Leadore is the closest real town to Salmon.  Like I said, Salmon’s pretty much in the middle of nowhere.  The middle.  It’s located in the rugged Frank Church Wilderness Area in central Idaho.  The center.

The middle.  The middle class.  The center.  That’s part of who I am.

Salmon is the county seat of Lemhi County.  Today, there’s a little over 3,000 people living there.  As I was growing up, it was a little under 3,000 and was known more as a lumber town.  Many of my relatives worked in the lumber mills in and around town.  But then the mills started dying away as the years went along.  Now, it’s known more as a tourist town with agriculture (mainly cattle ranching) also helping to provide the biggest boosts to the local economy.

There are also mining jobs to be had in the Salmon area, but those workers have to travel for miles deep into the mountains and live away from home for days at a time between their off days.  It was in those mining areas that my father, a miner born in Kentucky, met my mother, a school teacher born and raised just outside of Salmon, in late 1956.  They were married the following year, and on April 22, 1958, they were surprised by newborn twins — a boy and a girl.

They moved closer to Salmon from the midst of the mountains just before the births of my sister and brother.  My father tried, unsuccessfully, to make it as a dairy farmer working on my Granddad Gilpin’s farm.  When that didn’t work out, they moved to the wind-swept plains of Jeffrey City pretty much smack-dab in the middle of Wyoming — the middle — where Dad went back to being a miner.  It was there that it was discovered that my brother, Curtis, had cerebral palsy.  With that revelation, they moved up to Casper, Wyoming, to be closer to medical care for him.  From Casper, Dad made a long drive to the molybdenum mines in the Shirley Basin to go to work.  That’s where he was killed in an accident on October 20, 1960, when some ore cars went off the tracks, he stood up and turned around to try and rock them back into place, and didn’t know a low beam area was coming up behind him that would crush his upper body.

Mom moved back to Salmon after that with her children.  I was born February 17, 1961, nearly four months after my father’s death.  I was born into a family of survivors.

I grew up with an early love of rock and roll music.  I can faintly remember my sister, Lynda, sitting with me on a couch in our living room, teaching me how to read, when The Ed Sullivan Show was on the television and a group called The Beatles came on.  I was hooked on them and rock music ever since.  To this day, I’m a music junkie — I’m a fan of everything from classic rock to progressive rock to jazz-fusion to country to some grunge and contemporary Christian, and then some.

My sister taught me to read so well that I was skipped up to the second grade in the middle — yes, the middle — of my first-grade year of elementary school.  I guess words have been a huge part of my life.

Around the time I was in the eighth grade at Brooklyn Junior High School in Salmon, I tried my hand at creative writing as part of an English class assignment.  The teacher was fairly impressed, which encouraged me to develop that ability.

I’ve been a huge football fan ever since sixth grade at least, and I combined that love of sports and football in particular into a dream of someday writing for The Baltimore Sun and covering my favorite NFL team, the Baltimore Colts.  I wrote NFL preview articles on my own, showed them to my freshman English teacher at Salmon High School, and he advised me to write for the school’s student newspaper.  I did that in my sophomore year.

Times were pretty tough for my family around that time.  The only income my mother had then was from babysitting a few children in our home.  Man, those were lean times!  In 1976, Mom got a job in a potato processing plant near Idaho Falls and bought a mobile home to live in there, my sister and I lived with my grandmother Gilpin until Lynda graduated from high school (soon to be followed by her getting married), I took my driver’s ed in Leadore (getting my driving time on the 45 miles or so of highway between Salmon and Leadore while the instructor sat in the passenger seat) that summer, moved to Idaho Falls with Mom, and spent my last two years of high school at Skyline, graduating in 1978 with a world of new experiences behind me … first kiss, first girlfriend, first love, having a lead role in an operetta, first time getting drunk, making the honor roll for the first time, etc.

I started writing professionally for Idaho Falls’ daily newspaper, The Post-Register, as a part-time sports stringer at the beginning of my senior year in 1977.  I stayed in that job through my first year of college at Idaho State University as a journalism major.  While at ISU, I also worked as a reporter and sports editor for the student paper there part-time, while also earning part-time money as an ISU sports stringer for United Press International.

Between three part-time jobs and partying a bit too hard, it left little room for class time outside of my journalism-related classes.  I foolishly decided I was getting enough experience in journalism to just start my career once I was out of school.

My love of music, my deep bass voice, and my writing at the Idaho Falls paper led the manager of one of the local radio stations to hire me full-time to work half the time as an afternoon drive-time disc jockey on the AM country music side, and the other half as sports director at the station.  That was the most fun and least secure job I’ve ever had in my life!  I did a good job, and I earned some loyal fans on the air.  But I was 18 years old, headstrong, and thought I knew more than anyone, so the station manager and I clashed on some things — like whether we should or shouldn’t play Larry Gatlin’s “The Midnight Choir” on the air over advertisers’ protests, despite heavy listener requests.  I lost, and stayed at that job for under a year.

From there, I moved on to spend a few years working at a weekly newspaper in the area as reporter, news editor, photographer, darkroom worker, coffee maker, classified ad taker, press helper, owners’ babysitter, pretty much everything.  In 1984, I landed a job as a general assignment reporter at the respected Morning News in Blackfoot, Idaho.  In 1985, the sports editor decided to go back to school so I moved into his old spot and pretty much gained a “local celebrity” status for my writing and photography work.  In 1987, I was asked to move into the managing editor’s position, where I stayed until 1993 and achieved even greater “local celebrity” status for my continued reporting and editorial column writing.  I couldn’t even walk through the grocery store without being recognized by people I didn’t even know.  An odd feeling for sure.

In 1989, I met a young Christian lady named Amy Wareing on a blind date and knew this was the lady I would spend the rest of my life with, the one who would settle this smoking and hard-drinking renegade down.  We were married on March 17, 1990, and lived in a single-wide trailer next to her parents’ home outside of Blackfoot.  On my relatively meager editor’s salary, we had two sons — Curtis in 1991, Grant in 1993.  It wasn’t long after Grant was born that I decided a career change was in order.  Trying to make it as a journalist and move anywhere else without a college degree had become impossible.

During my managing editor’s days, I had assisted a lady who was a former journalist then working as an Apple computer consultant in setting up a new computer system for the newspaper.  I worked with her every step of the way in setting everything up.  The computer side fascinated me, so when it came time to decide on a new career I thought I’d take a stab at being a programmer.

Breaking out of the mindset of an editor– where you’re trained to take out details you think are unnecessary — to learning how to program a computer, where the smallest details ARE necessary, was quite a challenge at first.  But, somehow, it suddenly clicked in my brain and I took off.  I ended my two-year study at ISU’s Applied Tech program with a 3.90 GPA, made the dean’s list, graduated, and eventually found a job in Utah.

We’ve been here ever since.  In 1999, we welcomed a “surprise” third child, daughter Alicia, who’s had my heart ever since, as most daughters do with their daddies.  In 1998, I was baptized into the Seventh-day Adventist Church.  I’ve been the head deacon of my church for a few years now … not an easy job, but not bad for a former rowdy guy, huh?  At least I’ve still got the long hair to remind me of those “wilder old days.”

I worked as a programmer in Utah starting in 1995 at a couple of credit card companies (the first one faded away), a regional bank that merged with a national bank resulting in layoffs, and ended up with an airplane parts manufacturing and distribution company that went through some budget cuts in October of 2011 which helped to cost me my job there.

After over 10 months of being unemployed and going through a wild roller-coaster ride of emotions as our family’s fought for survival — applying for jobs all around the country that I was fully qualified for and not even getting a nibble on them — I’m going through another career change now.  I started trying my hand at selling cars in mid-September.  Facing absolute poverty makes you do all kinds of things you never really gave much thought to doing before.

This blog is an attempt to show a day-to-day example of a middle-class life, from someone who’s lived it his entire life.  It’ll have a fair amount of political views.  I try to be independent in my political opinions, but I do lean more toward the liberal side because I see a lot more hypocrisy on the right, and nothing drives me nuts more than blatant hypocrisy.  I’ll often try to make those views humorous (think along the lines of comedian Jon Stewart, one of my modern-day “journalistic” heroes) along with adding some humor to my “everyday” experiences.  It’ll be a diary on everyday life as I struggle to keep my family housed, fed, clothed, and warm this winter (would that make this, in part, a “daddyblog?”  Hey, there’s a fresh angle!).  I’m still a big sports fan.  I’m in two fantasy football leagues, maybe I could even offer some tips there (I’m in first place in one league, second in the other, so you could do worse than coming to me for fantasy football advice).  So expect some discussion on sports as well.  You’ll get a sampling of my musical tastes for sure.

Speaking of musical tastes, this blog and the popularity of its music playlists since the start of 2012 prompted me to launch a “niche” blog on music at thecrossovermusicchannel.com so if you love music in a variety of styles, feel free to check that out as well.

Stay tuned!  Feel free to comment!  Tell your friends!  I could use the followers!

Thanks!

– John Gilpin Miller (named after my father, John Miller, and the Gilpin side of my family)

20 Responses to About the guy who brings you “the view”

  1. Brogan says:

    Unfortunately small town America is a thing of the past. I can go to work, ride UTA Trax or the Bus and sit next to someone, who is reading from a pda or smart phone or listening to music. No one ever say’s a word to the person sitting next to them. We don’t communicate with our neighbors, in fact most people are jealous and because of envy despise the actual neighbors. (because the drive a newer car, have a bigger house, drink beer or live a Mormon life) Rather than reaching out and getting to know our neighbor as a person, we sit and text someone we meant in a social media forum. Our politicians have sold out traditional American values and all of us. They have auctioned off any remaining personal integrity to lobbyist or special interest groups.Even the “Working Class Americans” have sold out American, we shop at Walmart because we save a buck, while our neighbor next door closes up the family store because they cannot pay the bills. Then what have we become? Our jobs are out sourced to other countries in the name of open market. Our borders are open with Mexicans abound our cities and have taken most of the manual labor jobs, while we sit and watch Jerry Springer reality TV and listen to the news while ex-cons white supremacist get out of prison only to rape and kill a 16 year old babysitter, While another man murders his wife hides the body and say’s hew was camping with his boys.

    The media has shaped and twisted our concept of whats right so now we cannot tell what direction is true north. But we have sat back on our fat ass and watched and turned our heads the other way as true injustice is seen in our daily lives.

    Now this was off the topic but John Cougar Mellencamp is a musical preacher like country of small town values of the middle class.

  2. OneDrfuLife says:

    It’s true, Brogan. All the things you say are true. Except, it is myopic and disregards places where this is not the case. I live in a small town and I walk to my post office every day, or the grocery store downtown, and I see my neighbors. We stop and talk, we greet each other. Life is simple out here. Many folks are farmers, so they live a life filled with hard work and often just make ends meet. We’re a bit sheltered from the hustle and bustle of city life, even though we glimpse it when we venture out of our bubble.

    The news machine will choose the worst stories, leaving the good ones to die silently. There are good stories out there – stories of courage and creativity – but we rarely hear about those, unless it involves safely landing a jet on a river, or other heroic deeds. There are heroes living in your neighborhood, down the road from your school, your gym, your shopping centers. they are left to do their angelic works without recognition because nobody is paying attention to the good, only the bad. Perhaps we need to start talking more about all the good things, less about the bad. Our lives would be fuller and our loves would be richer.

    I grew up in the big city of Dallas. I fled for a smaller town and found it in Northern California. My point is, that if you seek, you will find. There are other places than the ones you describe, if you want to create more of them, there are many who will join you. It’s not perfect, but the din of the news media and constant noise of opinions and advertising are noticeably absent. Out here we recognize what’s important: family, friends, and food. Oh, and music, too. Can’t have too much of that!

  3. Brogan Donovan says:

    Dear OneDrfuLife,
    I absolutely agree that both posts reflect to worlds from a very nearsighted view. One on the left the other on the right as it the question, Is the glass half full of empty? one sees it being half full the other see’s it being half empty. But I see it as being half way filled not empty of full, but half way. I could wish it were full, but the facts remain that it is not. A pessimist I would only see that its half empty, both views are extreme and cast aspirations of a person’s view of the world. But let’s be honest for a minute here. What does the world really look like?, If the world were a village of 100 people the village what would have

    59 would be Asian
    14 would be American (North, Central and South)
    14 would be African
    12 would be European
    1 would be from the South Pacific

    75 would be non-white; 25 white
    33 would be Christian
    67 would be non-Christian;
    21 would be Moslems
    15 would be Hindus
    6 would be Buddhists
    5 would be Animists
    6 would believe in other religions
    14 would be without any religion or atheist.

    80 would live in substandard housing
    16 would be unable to read or write
    50 would be malnourished and 1 dying of starvation
    33 would be without access to a safe water supply
    39 would lack access to improved sanitation
    24 would not have any electricity (And of the 76 that do
    have electricity, most would only use it for light at night.)
    8 people would have access to the Internet
    1 would have a college education
    1 would have HIV
    2 would be near birth; 1 near death
    5 would control 32% of the entire world’s wealth; all 5 would be US citizens
    20 are undernourished
    1 is dying of starvation, while 15 are overweight.
    Of the wealth in this village, 6 people own 59% (all of them from the United States), 74 people own 39%, and 20 people share the remaining 2%.
    Of the energy of this village, 20 people consume 80%, and 80 people share the remaining 20%.
    20 have no clean, safe water to drink.
    56 have access to sanitation

    The world is changing and long gone are the days , that children could play in a city park unattended . The legacy of the America farmer has been crushed, and died a quick death long ago.

    I applauded the world you live in and my heart wants such a world for my children but the fact is that was a dream long ago. We are all dealt a hand of cards some good and others are bad, being able to take life and bless others are truly what it is all about.

    • And the more that each one of us tries to bless others, in a variety of ways, and do it often — the better off this world would be.

      Spread the word! :D

      I love this conversation here! This is good! Thanks!

    • Susan Shay says:

      It’s a big, big world, made up of many Small Town Worlds. Whether you choose to see the small towns in your world or not is up to you. But the more who see it and share it, the more will find it’s there.
      Remember the story of stone soup? In a snowed in village, all the people were starving to death and hoarding their last scraps of food, hoping for the roads to thaw so someone could bring food into their town.
      Finally one little old woman went to the square with a large kettle, and over an open fire started making soup with the only thing she had. A stone.
      One person after another asked what she was doing and she answered, “I’m making soup to share with my neighbors.”
      One woman answered, “I have some scraps of carrot we can add.” She ran home and brought back what she had.
      A man said, “I have a little beef left over.” He rushed away to get his beef.
      A boy said, “I think my mama had a few potatoes left.”
      That kept happening until the entire town had shared, and they had enough stew to sustain them until the thaw.
      The more we share, the more we have. And the more there are to share what we’ve shared. And so on, and so on, and . . .
      If you share, you might find small towns everywhere. :)

  4. Happy Friday! I wanted to let you know that I nominated you for the ABC Award! Visit my post to find out what that’s about:
    http://doubleyooteeeff.wordpress.com/2012/04/06/todays-fyi-awards-and-excuses/

    Keep on posting and have a great weekend! – Chris (a.k.a. DoubleyooTeeEff)

    • Chris, I am honored! Truly honored! So much so that I just had to share your post on Facebook. Speaking of which, if you do Facebook, feel free to put in a friend request for me at John G. Miller, or let me know how I can find you there. Love to have you on my list!

  5. Brogan Donovan says:

    I heard that same story about the snowed village, did you hear what happened next? The next year arrived and the same weather pattern happened again. The snow came, and people began to cry because they were hungry, the chief of the village was being hungry himself mandated everyone to bring all food and every scrap to the village center and we will make soup.

    Soup was made and all the villagers ate until they were to full to put another spoonful in their mouth. Unfortunately this was at the start of a long winter, as the storms arrived this caused the road to remain impassable. Since all the villagers had used all there food and scraps for the village feast, one by one every villager began to die of starvation until the entire village was gone.

  6. Ann Marie says:

    The truth shall set you free. Seek and you shall find.
    ellenwhiteexposed.com

  7. sil86as2 says:

    Hi, Thanks for promoting my blog. I love music and also come from a small town in Australia, Cooma. Although I have lived in the city for most of my life, I still go back from time to time and visit old friends. Some of them have only travelled to Sydney, and most are still the same and happy with their life. I think growing up without all the trappings people think they need in clean air with nature around makes you a stronger person, and you can always go back mentally to the way you felt then. You sound like you have had a really full and interesting life.

  8. Felicia says:

    Hi,
    I recently stumbled across and loved your perspective! HuffPost Live is hosting a segment about defining the middle class and we’d love to potentially have you as a guest via webcam. Our segment streams tomorrow (9/28/2012) at 2:30pm EST. Would you be interested in participating? If so, please email me at felicia.kelley@huffingtonpost.com. Thanks!

  9. sayvan says:

    Hi John… I follow a blog called the Modern Tog. I also recieve emails and updates from them and I noticed that they are looking to hire some people for different roles. I am not really sure what it involves or the details etc but I thought of you when I saw this so I wanted to give you the link and if your interested you can take it from there….http://www.themoderntog.com/im-hiring

    Steve

  10. Kenneth says:

    Hey this is kinda of off topic but I was wondering if blogs use WYSIWYG editors or if you
    have to manually code with HTML. I’m starting a blog soon but have no coding skills so I wanted to get guidance from someone with experience. Any help would be enormously appreciated!

    • It really depends on which blogging site you use (like WordPress vs. Blogger or whatever), or what “mode” you prefer. Some blogging sites give you a choice. Here on WordPress, the editor gives you a “visual” mode in a tab that’s pretty much like using any word processing software, or there’s a “text” mode that gives you something closer to HTML. But it’s all very much like word processing software, and I always use “visual” mode. I also use Blogger, pretty much the same thing there. It’s not hard to insert photos, do web links on text, or embed videos if you have the right code. You can go to YouTube and copy and paste the embedding code from most videos (found in “Share” in YouTube) into your article. If I were you, I’d do some research on the different platforms (WordPress, Blogger, etc.) and see what’s right for you. A simple book like “Blogging For Dummies” is a very good resource, I spent some time with that book myself before starting. WordPress is great for people just starting out, very easy to get a blog up and going quickly, very easy to use. Thanks for asking, good luck, and feel free to ask any questions that might come up.

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