The Oklahoman is my local newspaper. I read it every morning. It tells me everything I need to know about the world, or at least that part of the world located between Norman and Edmond, Oklahoma. (For news elsewhere, I rely on e-mails). 

Yesterday, I was finishing up at work when I noticed that someone had left a copy of the New York Times in the coffee room. I picked it up and noticed that it was much heavier than my local paper. It then occurred to me that I had never actually held a copy of the Times. I was curious to know what was inside, so I took it back to my office, pulled up a chair, and began reading.

It was dazzling!

There was so much more than sports and religion. There was a “World” section for foreign news; a “Science” section covering the universe; a "Technology" section with lots of neat stuff; an "Arts" section with music and dance; even a “Style” section – no, I’m not kidding – a “Style” section with food and fashion.

The Times did lack one thing, however – the funnies. Cartoons occupy about half the Oklahoman (and some would argue, all of it), but they don't appear in the Times. Instead, the Times has a spoof page in “Real Estate" that shows townhouses costing more than $70,000,000 dollars! Imagine the poor fool who believes that!  

Anyway, it was apparent that New York had a lot going for it. But Oklahoma is my home, and I like it here. Plus, Oklahoma has a major attraction: The most beautiful women in America!

Then I made the mistake of visiting the “Wedding” section.

Wow! It had the most beautiful women in America -- and they were all CEOs of billion-dollar corporations! Even the guys made me spoony. There were guys with girls, guys with guys, girls with girls -- and everyone was happy and picture-perfect!

Verdict: New York was awesome.

But that didn’t matter. I was happy in Oklahoma and had no intention of leaving.

As I started to put away the paper, my attention veered toward an article written by a guy named Nicholas Kristof. He's one of the opinion writers. The article was about a conflict in Darfur.

Normally I don’t read about places outside Oklahoma, but this article caught by attention because it was about ethnic fighting.

My heart sank. I thought about all the pain caused by racial injustice and all the progress made since our nation’s founding – the Emancipation Proclamation, the Civil Rights movement, and now most illustriously, the election of the first black president. I thought about the overwhelming pride I had felt when Obama was elected. For the first time, I was able to imagine a world in which racial injustice would be a thing of the past.  

Driving home, I fumed over Darfur. I wanted to know everything – every provocation, every weapon, every combat zone.  I rushed to my bedroom, pulled out several books and maps, and prepared myself for a long evening. First, I needed to know the exact location of the conflict, so I grabbed a map of Mississippi and began looking for Darfur. Starting in the Jackson area, I scanned every town until I reached the state’s borders. No Darfur. I then pulled out a map of Alabama and, focusing on Birmingham and Mobile, continued my search. Within a half-hour, I had covered the state from corner to corner. Still nothing. It was ten o’clock and I wasn’t giving up. Angrily, I pulled out maps of every Confederate state in the Union. By 2:00 AM, I was still studying maps. 

Then I came up with a better plan – Wikipedia. Wikipedia doesn’t cover little towns very well, but it’s great for news and it’s very up-to-date, so I figured it was my best shot.  I fired up the computer, clicked on the site, and typed in “Darfur.”  

And you won’t believe what I found.

No, I am not going to tell you. You have to guess.

What do you mean you’re not going to? Just guess.

Well, okay, if you’re not going to guess, then I’ll tell you, but you’d better sit down for this one.

Okay, are you sitting? Good. Here goes: 

DARFUR  IS  IN  FREAKIN' AFRICA!!!

No, I’m not shitting you, and don’t call me a liar. 

Yes, I was tired, but I was still awake.

Look:

Yes, I almost soiled myself, but I swear I’m telling the gods-honest truth.

My head was now spinning from sensory overload: new places in Africa, funnies in the “Real Estate” section, guy-guy weddings in New York.  This was the freakin' Twilight Zone!

But the events in Darfur were real and tragic, and Mr. Kristof was good to report on them. It takes a first-class person to report on people and places that few people know about, and the Times was magnificent for giving him a huge megaphone.

I went to bed at 4 AM and thought about the real Darfur. It was far away, but the plight of the people was real and the suffering was horrendous. Kristof had done a great service. He had exposed the atrocity and had issued a call for action.

And I was ready to respond: The next morning I switched to the Times.