When JoJo Kordik rides through town, adults stop and smile.

Children wave and cheer.

Even the cops are inclined to blare their sirens.

Kordik readily admits the reception has nothing to do with him. The 56-year-old Merrionette Park road maintenance worker says, "It's all about the dog."

Snowbaby, an 8-year-old Siberian Husky, loves to ride on the back of Kordik's 2005 Ultra Classic Harley-Davidson. Wearing "doggles," she sits in a custom-made basket that has a built-in harness.

Kordik had to weigh Snowbaby and take her measurements sitting down before he could order the all-leather, fur-lined seat from Beast Riders in Maryland.

"It's specifically made for my model, but it can be modified to fit any motorcycle," he said. Straps hold Snowbaby secure in three places.

Kordik's been riding Snowbaby around the Southland, and even as far north as the Wisconsin border, for the past five years.

"She's got 16,000 miles under her," he said, many of them logged in parades and Toys For Tots events. She rode in the Mokena Fourth of July parade and the Manteno Veteran's Run.

Kordik's a member of the Oak Lawn chapter of Illinois Harley Owners Group and Hogs for Hope, a nonprofit group of Harley-Davidson owners who help raise funds for Hope Children's Hospital in Oak Lawn.

"I always sell the most chances for Hope - 3,500 this year," he said. "But I cheat. I use the dog."

The impressive bike and the extensive tattoos belie a soft spot in Kordik's heart for sick children. Perhaps because he was one.

He endured several bouts of pneumonia as a child and at one point doctors told his mother he would likely die. At 16, he was diagnosed with scoliosis. When he was 23, he had surgery and today his spine is completely fused from the base of his neck to his tailbone.

"I live in pain, but I figure I can sit here and worry or get out and do something to help others," he said.

The kids are the ones who benefit from his outings with Snowbaby. And the kids are the ones who are his biggest fans when he passes them on the streets.

"They go nuts," he said.

Adults can be just as awe-struck, though. Once Kordik was stopped by two cops who said, "See you got your co-pilot with you."

To which Kordik replied, "Nope, she's my seeing-eye dog."

Snowbaby seems to enjoy the attention, although it took a good six months for her to get acclimated to the ride.

When she was first placed in the harness, she went wild. She didn't like being constrained, Kordik said.

"She'd shake the bike so bad, I'd have to stop," he said.

But now she loves it. She has her own vest and when she hears the sound of a motor revving, her ears perk up.

Despite her celebrity status in the community, Kordik said, Snowbaby is not a big fan of the dark glasses.

"She gets fed up with them sometimes," he said, "and flings them while we're riding."

 

I think I posted this last Mothers Day, but it says so much and says it so well, I wanted to share it again..to encourage and to celebrate each of us who are mothers and to remind us all of the awesome place our mothers or "mothers" (and for some that might even have been dad) have had and, for some of us, still do in our lives.

The greatest thing my mother shared with me was her faith

that became mine.

Thank you, Mama.

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY !!
 
This is for the mothers who have sat up all night with sick toddlers in their arms, wiping up puke laced with Oscar Mayer wieners and cherry Kool-Aid saying, "It's okay honey, Mommy's here".
 
Who have sat in rocking chairs for hours on end soothing crying babies who can't be comforted.

This is for all the mothers who show up at work with spit-up in their hair and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their purse.
 
For all the mothers who run carpools and make cookies and sew Halloween costumes. And all the mothers who DON'T.
 
This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies they'll never see.  And the mothers who took those babies and gave them homes.
 
This is for the mothers whose priceless art collections are hanging on their refrigerator doors.
 
And for all the mothers who froze their buns on metal bleachers at football , hockey or soccer games instead of watching from the warmth of their cars so that when their kids asked, 'Did you see me, Mom?'  they could say, "Of course, I wouldn't have missed it for the world," and mean it.

This is for all the mothers who yell at their kids in the grocery store and swat them in despair when they stomp their feet and scream for ice cream before dinner. And for all the mothers who count to ten instead, but realize how child abuse happens.

This is for all the mothers who sat down with their children and explained all about making babies. And for all the (grand) mothers who wanted to, but just couldn't find the words.

This is for all the mothers who go hungry, so their children can eat.

For all the mothers who read "Goodnight, Moon" twice a night for a year. And then read it again "Just one more time."

This is for all the mothers who taught their children to tie their shoelaces before they started school. And for all the mothers who opted for Velcro instead.

This is for all the mothers who teach their sons to cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot.

This is for every mother whose head turns automatically when a little voice calls 'Mom?' in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring are at home -- or even away at college.

This is for all the mothers who sent their kids to school with stomach aches, assuring them they'd be just FINE once they got there, only to get calls from the school nurse an hour later asking them to please pick them up. Right away.

This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, who can't find the words to reach them.

For all the mothers who bite their lips until they bleed when their 14 year olds dye their hair green.

For all the mothers of the victims of recent school shootings, and the mothers of those who did the shooting.

For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in front of their TVs in horror, hugging their child who just came home from school, safely.

This is for all the mothers who taught their children to be peaceful, and now pray they come home safely from a war.

What makes a good Mother anyway?
 
Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips? The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time?

Or is it in her heart? Is it the ache you feel when you watch your son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very first time?

The jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2 A.M. to put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby?

The panic, years later, that comes again at 2 A.M. when you just want to hear their key in the door and know they are safe again in your home?

Or the need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child when you hear news of a fire, a car accident, a child dying?

The emotions of motherhood are universal and so our thoughts are for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation...

And mature mothers learning to let go.
 
For working mothers and stay-at-home mothers.
 
Single mothers and married mothers.
 
Mothers with money, mothers without.  This is for you all. For all of us.
 
Hang in there. In the end we can only do the best we can. Tell them every day that we love them. And pray.

Please pass along to all the Moms in your life. "Home is what catches you when you fall. l and we all fall."
 
Please pass this to a wonderful mother you know.

Remember the movie Big with Tom Hanks? The piano used in that movie is now at FAO Schwartz NYC. Here is a piece by Bach played by a couple of the store's employees.

Whether it's quitting smoking (I'm close to two months now smoke-free!!!) or beating the odds while in remission from cancer (some may know to whom I'm referring with that one ), whatever your dream may be, read on...

Realizing Your Dream

~ Saralee Perel ~

CTA train operator offers pleasantries and smiles aboard the Red Line

By Christopher Borrelli

March 31, 2009

Tribune reporter/CTA Red Line rider Christopher Borrelli has dubbed Michael Powell (above) The Nicest Train Operator in Chicago (Tribune photo by E. Jason Wambsgans / March 30, 2009)

By Eli Saslow
Washington Post Staff Writer
Sunday, February 1, 2009; A01

A bus filled with about 50 of President Obama's friends and in-laws arrived at the White House just after midnight, as Inauguration Day came to a close, for what they called a "housewarming party." The group had celebrated more than a dozen moves together over the years, usually with casual dinners in bungalows on the South Side of Chicago. This time, they wore rented tuxedos and gowns as a small army of presidential staffers ushered them past Secret Service agents and into the East Room.

Marian Robinson, Michelle Obama's mother and the family matriarch, came downstairs from her new bedroom, and the family reunited on an oak parquet floor underneath crystal chandeliers. Celebrities and political power brokers greeted them. Jazz legend Wynton Marsalis played trumpet while caterers handed out hors d'oeuvres and flutes of champagne.

About an hour into the reception, Obama returned from his whirlwind tour of 10 inaugural balls. His wife, Michelle, and their daughters, Malia and Sasha, went to bed, exhausted. But the new president called over a photographer and explained that he wanted one final memento from the historic day. He gathered his in-laws -- teachers, secretaries and retirees from a self-described middle-class black family in Chicago -- and posed with them beneath a 1797 portrait of George Washington in his velvet suit.

"I was just trying to soak it all in, and then this realization hit me," said Steve Shields, 57, Michelle Obama's uncle. "It was like, 'Okay. This is different. All of the sudden, we are the family that's, like, at the center of the universe.' "

To help him adjust to Washington, President Obama has lifted an entire network of unassuming friends and in-laws from the South Side into the capital's stratosphere. None of them has been more suddenly transported than Robinson, 71, who has moved from the walk-up home where she spent 40 years to the historic mansion at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. She has a room on the third floor, one level up from the Obamas, with a four-poster bed, a walk-in closet, a television set and a small sitting area for guests. She can walk down the hall to visit Malia and Sasha in their playroom, where the girls will spend as much time with their Nintendo Wii as Grandma allows. Or she can step over to the solarium to read on a plush couch or gaze out the bay windows, with their sweeping views of the Washington Monument and the city beyond.

Robinson sometimes yearns for her anonymous life in Chicago, but she is committed to making the president and first lady feel at home. And she is hardly alone in that commitment. Kaye Wilson, godmother to both Obama daughters, will visit about once a month to cook family favorites and twist Malia's hair. More than a dozen other friends and relatives -- some of whom have never so much as visited Washington -- are scheduling spring sleepovers in the White House.

How well the group handles its rise to extended first family could foretell the president's happiness in his new job. Obama generally shied away from new friendships during his political ascendancy, preferring the company of the people who had babysat his daughters and thrown his birthday parties -- people who would retell familiar jokes. As the state senator became a U.S. senator and waged a successful campaign for the presidency, the extended network provided a cocoon of normalcy. Now, as extended first family, the friends and in-laws wonder: Can normalcy ever be re-created?

"The way [the Obamas] got this far was with support from all of these people in Chicago," said Wilson, the godmother, who works as an artist and consultant in Olympia Fields, Ill. "They always had people to depend on, friends who watched the girls and took care of things so some part of their life could stay the same. That group has to stick together. We have to find a way to make their lives comfortable in Washington."

Until last week, the family nexus had remained 700 miles to the west, at a two-story house on Euclid Street in Chicago's South Shore neighborhood. Robinson and her husband, Fraser, rented a small apartment on the house's second floor from an aunt, who lived downstairs. As toddlers, their children, Michelle and Craig, shared a large bedroom. It was a tidy home in a predominantly black, working-class neighborhood -- safe and affordable -- and Marian Robinson loved it. She sent Michelle and Craig to the elementary school down the block and took them to South Shore Methodist Church across the street.

In that house, she raised two future Ivy League students, cared for her dying aunt and sick husband, and lived alone as a widow for almost two decades. She parked on the street and shoveled snow off her sidewalk. In the winter, she played the piano or watched home improvement shows on an aging television surrounded by pictures of four generations of her family. On summer days, she read the entire newspaper and then worked crosswords and other puzzles on her brick sun porch.

It was home, and she never planned to leave.

Few in the Robinson family have ever left Chicago. Marian grew up the daughter of a painter and a stay-at-home mother in a small house with seven siblings on the South Side, and all five of her surviving brothers and sisters still live within 15 miles. They gather every few months for holidays and impromptu dinners. When Michelle married Barack Obama, who had no family nearby, the Robinsons adopted him as one of their own and threw his birthday parties.

Marian built a life entrenched in routine, and almost all of her activities revolved around family. Until she retired last year, she carpooled to her job as an assistant in the trust department of a downtown bank with her sister Grace Hale, who lives in a duplex around the corner. On Thursdays, Marian took a yoga class taught by her brother Steve Shields. She visited a downtown hair salon on Saturday mornings and then went to River Oaks Mall with Hale, who doesn't drive. Afterward, the two women treated themselves to lunch, usually at Red Lobster or Bennigan's, before stopping to do their weekly grocery shopping on the way home.

"We are longtime doers of everything," said Hale, 68, who works at a medical company. "We like things simple. We've never needed too much. All of us have our lives here, and we have them set the way we like."

After Obama announced plans to run for president in February 2007, the extended family worked to adapt. Marian, who had never before wanted to retire, quit her job so she could watch over Malia and Sasha and sometimes spent the night at their home in Hyde Park while the Obamas campaigned. She listened to the girls' morning piano practice and then ferried them to school, tennis, gymnastics, dance and drama -- a modern parenting schedule that sometimes made Marian yearn for actual retirement, she joked.

Still, she loved being around her grandchildren, and she insisted on watching them rather than hiring a babysitter. In the Robinson family, nobody relied too heavily on babysitters. With dozens of aunts, uncles and cousins nearby, Marian thought, why would you?

"I've heard Barack and Michelle say that their greatest comfort was having Marian watching the girls and a whole other rotation of us waiting and ready to back her up," said Wilson, the godmother. "Her being with those girls kept their lives normal."

Normal -- it was the goal they strived for, and a target that became increasingly elusive. Marian took a trip to a fundraiser at Oprah Winfrey's mansion and marveled at closets that looked bigger than her house. Hale accepted well wishes from strangers who rode with her on the No. 14 public bus that she takes each morning to work. At the Democratic National Convention, Wilson was crying alone in the Obama family box during Hillary Rodham Clinton's speech, grateful for anonymity, when she received a text message from her daughter: "Mom, they keep showing you on TV and you're wiping your nose with a paper bag. Get a tissue."

"It was like our private space was slowly disappearing," Wilson said.

The extended family continued to throw the usual parties -- a bash at Wilson's suburban home on Mother's Day, a get-together with about 60 people for Obama's birthday in August -- but now Secret Service agents secured the perimeter and gratefully accepted leftovers. The Obama daughters continued to visit the same friends for play dates, but now they rode in dark Chevy Suburbans driven by agents who had memorized the girls' favorite Jonas Brothers songs.

Marian adapted to one change at a time, steadfastly refusing to look ahead. While other family members predicted an Obama victory, Marian remained skeptical until election night. She hesitated to move into the White House -- it would be like living in a museum, she once said -- until she visited in November and saw her room. Even when she finally decided to leave Chicago, Marian told friends the move might only be temporary. She would stay in Washington as long as the family needed her, she said, and probably no longer.

"She's 71 years old, you know, and I wouldn't say she's set in her ways, but she certainly was comfortable in them," said Craig Robinson, Marian's son. "Moving, even if she had to move just downtown from where we lived in Chicago, it would have been a little bit of a daunting task to get her arms around. I don't think I'm telling any tales out of school when I say that she had to think hard about going to the White House. She knew it was going to be a serious change."

The White House isn't a bad place to stay, Marian has told friends, but it still lacks the comforts of home. She went for a walk downtown every day while staying at Blair House, but leaving the White House grounds requires security coordination and planning. Staff members have offered to help her find a yoga class, but she joked that she would rather take her brother's class in Chicago via webcam. Every Saturday, Marian calls her sister Grace Hale to make sure she found her own way to the grocery store.

Marian confessed to friends in Chicago that she is worried about boredom, and they suggested she volunteer for a few hours each day for a government agency, possibly doing accounting. Marian agreed to look into it; she has always been good with numbers.

Her primary daily task is to shepherd her grandchildren to and from school, and even that has stretched her comfort zone. For years, Marian drove 40 minutes to work near the Chicago Loop through hellacious weather and traffic, chauffeuring Hale to her job en route. Now, Marian sits in the back with the Obama daughters, who have been required to ride with the Secret Service since August, friends said.

"I think the hardest thing in her situation is that making new friends is almost impossible," said Wilson, the godmother. "I don't know how anybody makes friends from inside the White House. And when you get to our age, making friends anywhere is hard."

So the only option -- for Marian, for the Obamas -- is to bring their old friends to Washington. As Michelle said goodbye to the Chicago entourage at the end of the inauguration weekend, she encouraged a handful of friends and in-laws to immediately buy plane tickets for return trips to Washington. Wilson is back in town this weekend. Michelle's brother, Craig, a college basketball coach at Oregon State, will travel across the country with his family of four as much as possible. Friend Yvonne Davila will visit from Chicago with her two young daughters. A revolving door of aunts, uncles and cousins will provide a constant rotation of familiar faces.

"They've made it abundantly clear that we're welcome," said Yvonne Shields, a former in-law and one of Marian's closest friends.

The Robinsons used to vacation in White Cloud, Mich., where they shared rustic cabins in the woods, so transitioning to sleepovers at the White House has required some fine-tuning. A few hours after Obama took the oath of office, he asked Wilson if she and her husband were going to sleep in the Lincoln Bedroom.

"Oh, no, I can't do that," Wilson said. "I'd be the one who broke the glass and spilled my coffee on the Gettysburg Address."

Wilson stayed in Room 303 instead -- a suite with its own bathroom -- and Craig Robinson and his wife slept in the Lincoln Bedroom. Craig, who had never even toured the White House before, retired to a rosewood bed from the 1860s. He woke up and walked on the Truman Balcony, where 11 presidents have entertained the world elite.

"We're a pretty down-to-earth family from the South Side of Chicago, so nobody can get their arms around this whole thing," Craig said. "When all of our family was in there, it almost felt like: 'Wait. Are we at somebody's kitchen table? Because this can't actually be the White House.' The kids were off playing, and some of us adults sat back and just said: 'Can you believe this? Are you kidding?' "

During these difficult times and with all the distrust these days of corporations, this story was really a breath of fresh air.  If you are trying to help our planet by buying earth-friendly products, check out this website: www.ecos.com

Family-Owned Company Hands Out Hefty Bonuses

Vince Gerasole Reporting

WOOD DALE, Ill. (CBS) ―

The Vlahakis family has owned Earth Friendly Products for decades, and employees say the family is doing nice things for them.

During this difficult recession, many American workers feel lucky just to hold on to their jobs. But a company in west suburban Wood Dale is not only keeping all its employees – bosses are handing out holiday bonuses.

As CBS 2's Vince Gerasole reports, the workers at Earth Friendly Products are coming clean about making ends meet in a troubled economy.

"So many people are losing their jobs, out of work, it's a tough time right now," batch maker Torin Moore said.

Jeannette Udischas, who works in customer service at the company, said, "The economy is kind of scary."

But their holidays will be far from washed up. All the workers at Earth Friendly Products got very generous Christmas bonuses. The company is dividing more than $1 million between its 120 employees.

For most, it's adding up to an extra month's pay.

"It came in handy for these tough times," Moore said.

Now, from the assembly line to the shipping dock, the employees are talking about what they plan to do with all that cash.

"I got credit card bills so some of it is gonna go to that," said Joe Marrese, who works in the shipping dock.

"I gonna fix my kitchen with that bonus check," Jose Gonzales said.

"I have three daughters and if they're all going to get a little bit more in their stockings because of it -- I share -- they don't know this yet, they'll find out," Udischas said.

"They never cease to amaze me there's always something happening here -- they are always doing something for their employees," Moore said.

Earlier this year every worker here got another bonus check, to help pay for rising gas prices. Apparently the Vlahakis family – who have owned the company for decades – wouldn't have it any other way.

"The owner really believes in his workers being the number one asset," another employee told CBS 2.

And in return the company is being rewarded with dozens of faithful productive workers.

"It's a very nice feeling," Udischas said. "You feel you are worth something here because they appreciate what you do."

And that's a feeling you can't really buy in a bottle.

(© MMVIII, CBS Broadcasting Inc. All Rights Reserved.)

 

I learned, during a most difficult time in my life, that we have a choice each day as to how we will perceive life and that God gives us small joys when we most need them if we only have eyes and a heart to see them. It's where we choose to put our focus each day that can make all the difference.

He gave me a bird's nest just outside my window that I would watch every day as the eggs hatched and those tiny miracles were fed by their mama. He gave me a small child who needed me when his mother had no love for him who was the sunshine of my life for many years. And during a time when my children and I might have lost everything, He blessed me through others who, seemingly miraculously, gave of themselves in answer to our needs. And I felt a closeness to Him that strengthened my faith.

It was during that time that I began using the internet. I had to pick an id for Yahoo and I thought and thought, what name would embody who I was to the world? I became choose_joy_today and that name has allowed me to share my outlook on life because of those dark days and the way God blessed me to many over the years when they ask what that name's all about. Some time later I created my e-mail signature:

In all of life's joys and trials, we can either choose
to be thankful for our blessings or curse God for our misfortune.
Choose joy!

May your today and every day be filled with the same joy!

Father, son rescued after more than 12 hours in Atlantic

Story Highlights
• Son swept out to sea by currents, father jumped in after him
  
• At some point, father and son were separated by three miles
  
• Father: "We were floating and just waiting for help to come"
  
• Boater finds father, Coast Guard rescues autistic son two hours later
  

A father and son who tread water for more than 12 hours in the Atlantic Ocean before being rescued spent much of the time in the dark seas not knowing if the other was alive, authorities said Monday.

Walter Marino, 46, and his son Chris Marino, who has autism, were swimming in the Ponce Inlet, south of Daytona Beach, Florida, on Saturday when currents pulled the 12-year-old boy out to sea.

His father jumped in to try to save Chris but was also pulled out to sea.

Family members called 911, but by the time rescue units arrived, the father and son could no longer be seen, officials said.

The U.S. Coast Guard, the Volusia County Beach Patrol and the sheriff's office immediately launched a search-and-rescue mission using helicopters, boats and personal watercraft to try to find the Winter Park father and son.

"[We were] floating," Walter Marino told CNN affiliate WKMG-TV after the rescue. "We were floating and just waiting for help to come." Watch the father thank rescuers »

Hoping to find the pair alive, the Coast Guard searched from Saturday night until early Sunday morning before suspending the search because of darkness, Coast Guard officials told CNN.

Coast Guard officials told Lt. j.g. David Birky that he would be part of a backup crew to relieve the team from the night before. Birky told CNN the crew was set to do a search when the sun came up, but received a call while they were en route that a good Samaritan boat found Walter Marino about 7:30 a.m.

Birky, the co-pilot of the crew, told CNN that after the father was found, they began searching that area for his son. Chris Marino was found two hours later, three miles from where his father was rescued.

The Coast Guard lifted the boy into a helicopter, and both father and son were taken to Halifax Medical Center in Daytona Beach, where they were in good condition. Both were treated for dehydration, according to WKMG-TV.

"The Coast Guard rocks," Walter Marino said as he was being transported to the hospital, according to WKMG-TV. "God bless the Coast Guard."

While Walter Marino praised the Coast Guard for its rescue efforts, Birky said the true praise goes to the father and his young son.

"That kid is an amazing kid," Birky said. "To tread water for almost 14 hours, I don't know about you, but I don't think I could do that. They have amazing willpower to be able to do it."

Man returns gas 34 years later

SOUTHINGTON, Ohio (AP) -- An Ohio couple has been repaid for a liquid asset they shared 34 years ago.

Violet and Harold Goff of Southington say a man showed up at their home recently and explained that he'd appeared at their door in 1974 when he was 17 and had run out of gas.

Back then, Harold Goff got a five-gallon can of gasoline for Jeffrey Hardin. Goff remembers telling the teen to make sure to pay it back.

Hardin still lives in the area and told the Goffs the debt had remained in the back of his head. So, he presented them with a plastic, five-gallon container of gas.

Harold Goff notes that he made a good investment, since the gas and container once worth about $5 are now worth $25.

Local Boy Uses Birthday To Help Children In Africa

New Lenox 10-Year-Old Raising Money To Buy Malaria Bed Nets For Kids

Reporting

Mai Martinez

(© MMVIII, CBS Broadcasting Inc. All Rights Reserved.)

POMONA, California (AP) -- A thrift store worker in Southern California says she didn't think twice about returning $30,000 she found in donated clothing.

Barbarita Nunez was sorting clothes on Tuesday at the Veterans Thrift Store when she found a small box. Inside was an envelope of cash. Nunez said at first she thought the money was fake. But just in case, she gave it to her supervisor.

The money turned out to belong to a woman who had recently died. It was returned to her family, who gave Nunez a cash reward.

Nunez said she will send some of the reward to Mexico so her mother can have an eye operation and will use the rest to buy a digital camera.