(For those you care, this is my column sent out to the Custer paper for the Dec. 17 issue:)
It's time to change my e-mail address!
The problem with being a voracious e-mailer is that it is far too easy to sign up for "stuff," some of which sounds appealing and attractive and some of which proves to be nothing more than an e-mail clogger. It takes time and patience to "opt out" of each of those e-mails from whom I never want to hear again, so I have decided it's time to simply close my present e-mail account and get a new one and then to be very careful who learns about that new address!
Why go to the trouble, you ask? This is why. I swear this is the gospel truth. The other day I received ALL of the following in my junk folder on the SAME day:
* "Need help with diabetes? Try GlucoBalame MD."
* "Get the world's best peeler for only $14.99."
* "Rebate processing jobs at home. Immediate placement!"
* "My Nigerian partners have absconded with my funds, and the governor of the Central Bank of Nigeria is going to help me get my money if you will help me."
* "Lucidal, a revolutionary new formula to boost brain functions." (I actually pondered the idea of opening this e-mail. I could use a boost in brain functions.)
* Something totally in Spanish. I can't tell you what it said.
* "Zenaab-kabbah is seeking an honest partner." (Yeah, I'll bet you are.)
* "Be a happy driver. Save on auto insurance."
* "Recieve the funds you requested." (I hadn't requested any funds, and besides, I wouldn't get them from anybody who can't spell "receive" correctly.)
* "Parker, relief is here." (I could use some relief, but I'm afraid of what they're suggesting.)
* "Choose a designer handbag and you could get it free." (I think I'll stick with my wallet.)
* "Urgent response requested by Abudu Hassan." (I'm sure urgency was required, but he spelled it "ugrent.")
* "Parker, your future starts here." (I'm too old to start a future right now.)
* "Fed up with taxes, Parker?" (You bet, but not as much as I'm fed up with the people in government who are responsible for them.)
* "Respond urgently, my dear friend." (I think I'll pass.)
* "Whose fries are better?"
* "UK Lottery notification." (I've won the UK lottery countless times in my life. I'm yet to see a penny of it.)
* "How to burn fat with SkinnyBoost." (I already look as if I used SkinnyBoost. I can't afford to burn another ounce of fat.)
* "Want to meet some nice girls?" (Yes, always. But my description of "nice girls" and theirs is likely different.)
* "Anti-aging formula!" (Now they're getting my attention.)
* "Dermitage, Hollywood's Fountain of Youth." (Fine, I'm interested, but can I get it in South Dakota instead of Hollywood?)
* And of course, Viagra! (If I had much use for Viagra, this might be the first of my junk e-mails I would open.)
As you can guess, I make frequent use of the "delete" button on my computer.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Signs of the times:
Being a news junkie, I usually have CNN or MSNBC on throughout the day, so at least twice daily I see a shot of the opening bell and the closing bell at the New York Stock Exchange. What bugs me about that, however, is this: Why, especially in these rugged, shaky financial times, are those people standing up there by the bell applauding so deliriously as they ring the opening and closing bells? . . . . .
Since my car has been on the fritz for most of three months this fall, I hadn't bothered to fill the gas tank very often. The other day I pulled up to one of the outside pumps at a local station, one of those where you have to go inside and pay cash before pumping the gas. I handed the clerk a $20 bill, saying, "I don't have a clue how much it will take so give me that much for now." He looked at me strangely but said nothing. I went back to the car, pumped gas till it automatically shut off and was astounded to see it cost me only about $16. Whoa! The last time I remembered filling my gas tank it cost something like $50! The clerk was amused as I returned inside to get my change. . . . . .
Why didn't I ever think of this? I read the other day that an enterprising calculus teacher at a high school in suburban San Diego, tired (or broke!) from using his own money to pay for supplies for his classroom, solicited ads and printed them around the outside edges of the test papers he distributed to his students. Some of the ads were from local businesses, one from a dentist urging "brace yourself for a great semester," others from supportive parents. He sold out all the space on his semester test, and he has bookings for $350 worth of ads for next semester! I can only imagine what the superintendents and principals with whom I dealt over my 18 years of teaching would have said about this plan. . . . . .
-o-o-o-o-o-
The tradition lives: As I wrote this last Friday, I had already received 24 Christmas cards/letters from friends in my former haunts---Onida, Pierre, Rapid City, Custer, et al. It's good to welcome the mailman at the front door each morning when what he brings is friends' news and photos of the past year instead of bills!
For the first time in decades, I'm not going to get my Christmas letter into the mail before Christmas, but I'll get it done after the new year, perhaps during the first blizzard that shuts down Vermillion, if in fact we are fortunate to have such a couple days this year!
In the meantime, merry Christmas and happy new year to all who read the Chronicle (and you who log on to this blog, too!). I managed to see very few of you during 2008 (only if you came east of the river!), but I vow to rectify that situation in 2009, and perhaps a return move to the Black Hills area is in store. Enjoy your holiday season!
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Happy Thanksgiving
Here it is Nov. 26, and I returned to this site for the first time since Nov. 2 and just noticed that I misspelled "Chronicle" in the headline of the previous post. Good grief! Where's my Chronicle proofreader when I need her?
But anyway, happy Thanksgiving to each and everyone who happens to run across this page.
I shall attempt to post blogs more often one of these days.
But anyway, happy Thanksgiving to each and everyone who happens to run across this page.
I shall attempt to post blogs more often one of these days.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
My Nov. 5 Custer Chornicle column
Here's a positive thought to get you started:
If you are reading this on Wednesday, Nov. 5, it is only 421 days until Jan. 1, 2010, which will be the first day of a brand new election year!
If that thought doesn't jump-start the old ticker and get the adrenaline to flowing (or make you set fire to this page of the newspaper), I can't think what else might. The Cubs winning the World Series? Paris Hilton uttering an intelligent sentence? Your Powerball ticket bearing the winning numbers?
Since this column had to be written prior to the votes being counted Tuesday night, I don't have the luxury of knowing what you know---that quite possibly somebody assured himself of being chosen President-elect when the 50 states' electors get together in their respective state capitols next month to do the real voting that determines the winner.
I can't know what you now know---whether each of the 50 states was able, in this age of tremendous technology, conduct an accurate, honest, trouble-free election or if some state managed to screw it up yet again. Ohio? Florida?
It would be nice if, by the time you read this, the losing presidential candidate has returned to his current role, that of a U.S. senator. The work on his desk must have piled up a bit over the past few months.
But it would not surprise in the least to think that, as you are reading this on Nov. 5, one of the campaigns is still claiming the possibility that the announced result could and/or should be reversed or that the election was stolen or that it's the Big Bad Liberal Media's fault. (Isn't it always?)
After all, too many people have too much to lose if their candidate did not win the presidency, and I don't mean Obama, Biden, McCain and Palin. Staff positions in the new administration, cabinet posts, favors to be called in after the new man takes office---there was a lot hanging in the balance and maybe, depending on what happened last night, it is still hanging there.
But those of us who have found this election year fascinating and intriguing, at least until the last month or so, will have to find something else to occupy our daily attention. There just may not be as much reason to check in on Olbermann's, Matthews' and Maddow's take on things on MSNBC or Hannity's, O'Reilly's and Ingraham's opinions on that other cable news channel, the one that pounds its chest as being "fair and balanced."
I may have to return to sports talk radio all day long starting tomorrow. It may be a painful withdrawal.
But 2010 looms ahead. That election year will not be so all-encompassing, overwhelming and, for that matter, meaningful to the entire country as this year's was for the simple reason that there will not be a presidential campaign. (Thank you, God.)
But here in South Dakota it will likely be a most interesting year. In fact, 2009, which is almost here, may be interesting as well as would-be candidates position themselves for declaring their 2010 candidacies.
Just as there was the Johnson-Dykstra U.S. Senate race this year, in 2010 there will be another. Sen. John Thune's current term will be expiring. If he chooses to seek re-election, South Dakota will find itself in a rather unusual situation where, in a Republican state, an incumbent Republican will be favored in a statewide congressional race.
We will also be electing a new governor since Gov. Rounds cannot seek another term. Even the primary elections to name candidates for that office could grab the attention of us who become political junkies every election year.
In 2010 as in every other year we will be electing our one member of the U.S. House of Representatives. If Rep. Herseth Sandlin won yesterday, will she seek re-election or run for the governorship? Will Gov. Rounds go after the House seat? It will be a fun time, and it will be here before we know it.
Chances are there will be unexpected developments. The only thing we can count on for absolute certainty is that in 2010 there will be an abortion measure of some sort on the South Dakota ballot. Why? Because there always is.
-o-o-o-o-o-
CUSTER NOTES
I see the CHS choir will be headed to New York and Washington this coming spring. Having made five out-of-state trips with the Pierre band (one to Minneapolis, one to Denver, three to Chicago) during the years I worked for the paper there, I don't know I managed to squeeze my Chronicle time in between New York trips with the CHS choir. After all, doesn't somebody have to cover it for the paper? Take pictures and all that? Sorry I missed out again, choir. Send me a postcard. . . . . .
Custer friends of the late Jodi Beringer Larabee would be pleased at the new sign that has been erected on the front lawn of a USD sorority house just two blocks north of my house on Pine Street. The sign, which identifies the sorority, has a message at the bottom which reads, "In Memory of Jodi Beringer Larabee, Pledge Class of 1995." . . . . .
I happened to be in contact the other day with CHS alumnus Brandon Snyder, who already has put in three years in the U.S. Marine Corps. He has also acquired a bride named Megan along the way. The Snyders recently moved to Jacksonville, N.C., but Brandon will be headed out on another deployment soon. We wish him the best and thank him for his service! Whenever I think of Brandon, I immediately recall his very last night of high school. He graduated in the middle of the year, and on that last night he pinned his wrestling opponent. It was a magical tear-jerker of a moment for those who knew that the very next morning he was headed to the Marine Corps. . . . . .
Megan Turner is in her second year at the University of Sioux Falls. Call it "the school of hard knocks" for Megan. During her freshman basketball season she was out a long while after a concussion sustained about Thanksgiving time last year. Now in recent months she missed three weeks of basketball drills due to her second consussion but is back at practice. She is listed on the JV roster for USF. Megan also goes out for track at USF. . . . . .
I know that several emergency responders and volunteers from Custer County were involved in the search for elk hunter Brad McGee, who was found dead west of Hill City two weeks ago. He was from my hometown of Onida. His mom, Patty, is Sully County auditor. I can't imagine what the week before the election was like in her office as the result of this tragedy. Brad and his wife were the parents of two little children. . . . . .
-o-o-o-o-o-
THE GLORY OF FALL
The Chronicle gang wouldn't be surprised if I came right out and admitted that I'm still computer-illiterate. (If the darn thing doesn't work right when I push the "on" button, then I don't use it! That's my philosophy.) But if I could take a photo and send it to you for use in the weather photo spot up in the corner of Page 2, I would snap a shot of the tree directly across the street from me as I sit here in my kitchen at home and look west.
My next-door neighbors, the Wards, have a tree out next to their curb which still has all of its leaves despite the fact that almost every other tree lost its leaves in the howling 60 mph winds of a week ago. As I gaze over there, it is almost as if everything else in the block, including every other tree, is in black and white, but this particular tree is in color. Reds, oranges, yellows, pinks, sienas---it is glorious.
You should be here in the early morning. When the sun rises over the second story of the Vermillion hospital a block east of us, the first thing in the block to the west that its rays strike is the Wards' tree. It is almost as if the tree is ablaze with fire until the sun rises high enough in the sky so that everything else is in sunshine.
The only negative aspect of the Wards' tree is that its leaves will end up over here in my yard, which will mean another raking Saturday sometime in November. As for today, with the temperature in the 60s and a weekend approaching, I don't even mind heading outside right now to rake the leaves that have already found our yard. It beats shoveling snow.
-o-o-o-o-o-
LEST WE FORGET
With Veterans Day less than a week away, it's time to make your plans to spend an hour of next Tuesday at the Custer schools' annual program. No community in the state does Veterans Day as well as Custer does. You should take pride in that.
Here is a link to a moving tribute each of us should take five minutes to watch. Then send it to veterans you know or others who would appreciate it, including veterans of our current wars and those who are currently serving:
If you are reading this on Wednesday, Nov. 5, it is only 421 days until Jan. 1, 2010, which will be the first day of a brand new election year!
If that thought doesn't jump-start the old ticker and get the adrenaline to flowing (or make you set fire to this page of the newspaper), I can't think what else might. The Cubs winning the World Series? Paris Hilton uttering an intelligent sentence? Your Powerball ticket bearing the winning numbers?
Since this column had to be written prior to the votes being counted Tuesday night, I don't have the luxury of knowing what you know---that quite possibly somebody assured himself of being chosen President-elect when the 50 states' electors get together in their respective state capitols next month to do the real voting that determines the winner.
I can't know what you now know---whether each of the 50 states was able, in this age of tremendous technology, conduct an accurate, honest, trouble-free election or if some state managed to screw it up yet again. Ohio? Florida?
It would be nice if, by the time you read this, the losing presidential candidate has returned to his current role, that of a U.S. senator. The work on his desk must have piled up a bit over the past few months.
But it would not surprise in the least to think that, as you are reading this on Nov. 5, one of the campaigns is still claiming the possibility that the announced result could and/or should be reversed or that the election was stolen or that it's the Big Bad Liberal Media's fault. (Isn't it always?)
After all, too many people have too much to lose if their candidate did not win the presidency, and I don't mean Obama, Biden, McCain and Palin. Staff positions in the new administration, cabinet posts, favors to be called in after the new man takes office---there was a lot hanging in the balance and maybe, depending on what happened last night, it is still hanging there.
But those of us who have found this election year fascinating and intriguing, at least until the last month or so, will have to find something else to occupy our daily attention. There just may not be as much reason to check in on Olbermann's, Matthews' and Maddow's take on things on MSNBC or Hannity's, O'Reilly's and Ingraham's opinions on that other cable news channel, the one that pounds its chest as being "fair and balanced."
I may have to return to sports talk radio all day long starting tomorrow. It may be a painful withdrawal.
But 2010 looms ahead. That election year will not be so all-encompassing, overwhelming and, for that matter, meaningful to the entire country as this year's was for the simple reason that there will not be a presidential campaign. (Thank you, God.)
But here in South Dakota it will likely be a most interesting year. In fact, 2009, which is almost here, may be interesting as well as would-be candidates position themselves for declaring their 2010 candidacies.
Just as there was the Johnson-Dykstra U.S. Senate race this year, in 2010 there will be another. Sen. John Thune's current term will be expiring. If he chooses to seek re-election, South Dakota will find itself in a rather unusual situation where, in a Republican state, an incumbent Republican will be favored in a statewide congressional race.
We will also be electing a new governor since Gov. Rounds cannot seek another term. Even the primary elections to name candidates for that office could grab the attention of us who become political junkies every election year.
In 2010 as in every other year we will be electing our one member of the U.S. House of Representatives. If Rep. Herseth Sandlin won yesterday, will she seek re-election or run for the governorship? Will Gov. Rounds go after the House seat? It will be a fun time, and it will be here before we know it.
Chances are there will be unexpected developments. The only thing we can count on for absolute certainty is that in 2010 there will be an abortion measure of some sort on the South Dakota ballot. Why? Because there always is.
-o-o-o-o-o-
CUSTER NOTES
I see the CHS choir will be headed to New York and Washington this coming spring. Having made five out-of-state trips with the Pierre band (one to Minneapolis, one to Denver, three to Chicago) during the years I worked for the paper there, I don't know I managed to squeeze my Chronicle time in between New York trips with the CHS choir. After all, doesn't somebody have to cover it for the paper? Take pictures and all that? Sorry I missed out again, choir. Send me a postcard. . . . . .
Custer friends of the late Jodi Beringer Larabee would be pleased at the new sign that has been erected on the front lawn of a USD sorority house just two blocks north of my house on Pine Street. The sign, which identifies the sorority, has a message at the bottom which reads, "In Memory of Jodi Beringer Larabee, Pledge Class of 1995." . . . . .
I happened to be in contact the other day with CHS alumnus Brandon Snyder, who already has put in three years in the U.S. Marine Corps. He has also acquired a bride named Megan along the way. The Snyders recently moved to Jacksonville, N.C., but Brandon will be headed out on another deployment soon. We wish him the best and thank him for his service! Whenever I think of Brandon, I immediately recall his very last night of high school. He graduated in the middle of the year, and on that last night he pinned his wrestling opponent. It was a magical tear-jerker of a moment for those who knew that the very next morning he was headed to the Marine Corps. . . . . .
Megan Turner is in her second year at the University of Sioux Falls. Call it "the school of hard knocks" for Megan. During her freshman basketball season she was out a long while after a concussion sustained about Thanksgiving time last year. Now in recent months she missed three weeks of basketball drills due to her second consussion but is back at practice. She is listed on the JV roster for USF. Megan also goes out for track at USF. . . . . .
I know that several emergency responders and volunteers from Custer County were involved in the search for elk hunter Brad McGee, who was found dead west of Hill City two weeks ago. He was from my hometown of Onida. His mom, Patty, is Sully County auditor. I can't imagine what the week before the election was like in her office as the result of this tragedy. Brad and his wife were the parents of two little children. . . . . .
-o-o-o-o-o-
THE GLORY OF FALL
The Chronicle gang wouldn't be surprised if I came right out and admitted that I'm still computer-illiterate. (If the darn thing doesn't work right when I push the "on" button, then I don't use it! That's my philosophy.) But if I could take a photo and send it to you for use in the weather photo spot up in the corner of Page 2, I would snap a shot of the tree directly across the street from me as I sit here in my kitchen at home and look west.
My next-door neighbors, the Wards, have a tree out next to their curb which still has all of its leaves despite the fact that almost every other tree lost its leaves in the howling 60 mph winds of a week ago. As I gaze over there, it is almost as if everything else in the block, including every other tree, is in black and white, but this particular tree is in color. Reds, oranges, yellows, pinks, sienas---it is glorious.
You should be here in the early morning. When the sun rises over the second story of the Vermillion hospital a block east of us, the first thing in the block to the west that its rays strike is the Wards' tree. It is almost as if the tree is ablaze with fire until the sun rises high enough in the sky so that everything else is in sunshine.
The only negative aspect of the Wards' tree is that its leaves will end up over here in my yard, which will mean another raking Saturday sometime in November. As for today, with the temperature in the 60s and a weekend approaching, I don't even mind heading outside right now to rake the leaves that have already found our yard. It beats shoveling snow.
-o-o-o-o-o-
LEST WE FORGET
With Veterans Day less than a week away, it's time to make your plans to spend an hour of next Tuesday at the Custer schools' annual program. No community in the state does Veterans Day as well as Custer does. You should take pride in that.
Here is a link to a moving tribute each of us should take five minutes to watch. Then send it to veterans you know or others who would appreciate it, including veterans of our current wars and those who are currently serving:
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Debates have become 'must-see TV'
A Republican candidate for President has to be off-the-edge extreme to lose South Dakota's electoral votes, but it happened to Sen. Barry Goldwater back in 1964.
Yes, 44 years ago South Dakota actually supported a Democratic presidential candidate when the Lyndon Johnson/Hubert Humphrey ticket received 55.61 percent of the vote to the 44.39 percent earned by Goldwater/Miller.
Before checking the archives at the Secretary of State's website, I had assumed that, at least during the height of World War II, South Dakota might have supported President Roosevelt, but no. This rock-ribbed Republican stronghold voted for that party's candidates in both 1940 and 1944. In 1936, perhaps because he had held the nation together during the Depression, South Dakota supported the FDR/Garner ticket to the tune of 54.02 percent. (Probably because Alf Landon's vice presidential runningmate was named Knox.)
There's little doubt that South Dakota will go Republican as usual at the end of the current presidential campaign, regardless of the circumstances, and that is, to a certain extent, frustrating to one such as me who has no intention of voting that way.
One minute I'm thinking to myself, what's the sense of bothering to vote because we know how South Dakota will go, but in the next minute I remind myself that, in every case, not voting at all is a disgusting response, even if one's candidate or pet issue loses. For that matter, even if one overlooks the presidential race, we have a U.S. Senate seat and a U.S. House seat to fill, legislative races to decide and, as usual in South Dakota, a whole armload of assorted ballot issues, most of which people have referred to a vote.
So do your duty, pick up your absentee ballot now or vote on Nov. 4. (A reminder: If your voter registration is not updated, you have until Oct. 20 to get that done. Shame on you if you don't.)
Even before the Republican Party chose a 72-year-old two-time cancer patient as its presidential candidate and a woman from Wasilla, Alaska, who has a rifle rack showing in the back window of her pickup cab as its vice presidential nominee, I had determined that they don't get my vote. And even though you didn't ask why and you probably don't care what anybody in the Big Bad Media thinks, I'll tell you why.
About a month ago I heard one of the television commentators ask aloud the question that had crossed my mind way back in January when the primary elections began. And that question is this: What part of the past eight years makes the Republican Party deserving of another four (or probably eight) years in the White House? What makes them worthy of being rewarded for the last eight years?
Since the first time each of us began taking social studies and learning about the governmental process in our country, we learned that we have a powerful weapon to use against office-holders with whom we disagree---vote them out of office when the next election comes around. You may say that President Bush (and Cheney and Rumsfeld, et al.) aren't running for re-election so I shouldn't use that reasoning. Sorry, but what is my alternative? Pretending that Sen. McCain is a new man, a maverick, a reformer, even though he's been in the U.S. Senate for more than two decades is a bit of a stretch.
That's my take. I realize that the majority of voters in this state disagree with me. But whichever way you have decided to vote, just be sure to do it, either now in advance or at the polls on Election Day.
Regardless of your political persuasions and mine, we can agree that the debates this year should draw all-time record numbers of television viewers, starting Friday night when Sen. Obama and possibly even Sen. McCain face the questioning of Jim Lehrer on the campus at Ole Miss. It's enough to make me consider skipping high school football this week to stay home to watch the debate live. Rest assured, however, that the cable news networks will be rebroadcasting the debate later in the evening and early-morning hours if you aren't home to see it when it happens live.
Then there will come the one debate between Sen. Biden and Gov. Palin next Thursday, Oct. 2, followed by two more presidential candidate debates on Oct. 7 and Oct. 15.
In this crazy, memorable year of incredible interest in politics, these four debates could tip the scales. Even not, they will make for fascinating television viewing.
Thanks for reading this far as I expressed my views. I respect yours as well, even you who will reply to this as "Anonymous."
Yes, 44 years ago South Dakota actually supported a Democratic presidential candidate when the Lyndon Johnson/Hubert Humphrey ticket received 55.61 percent of the vote to the 44.39 percent earned by Goldwater/Miller.
Before checking the archives at the Secretary of State's website, I had assumed that, at least during the height of World War II, South Dakota might have supported President Roosevelt, but no. This rock-ribbed Republican stronghold voted for that party's candidates in both 1940 and 1944. In 1936, perhaps because he had held the nation together during the Depression, South Dakota supported the FDR/Garner ticket to the tune of 54.02 percent. (Probably because Alf Landon's vice presidential runningmate was named Knox.)
There's little doubt that South Dakota will go Republican as usual at the end of the current presidential campaign, regardless of the circumstances, and that is, to a certain extent, frustrating to one such as me who has no intention of voting that way.
One minute I'm thinking to myself, what's the sense of bothering to vote because we know how South Dakota will go, but in the next minute I remind myself that, in every case, not voting at all is a disgusting response, even if one's candidate or pet issue loses. For that matter, even if one overlooks the presidential race, we have a U.S. Senate seat and a U.S. House seat to fill, legislative races to decide and, as usual in South Dakota, a whole armload of assorted ballot issues, most of which people have referred to a vote.
So do your duty, pick up your absentee ballot now or vote on Nov. 4. (A reminder: If your voter registration is not updated, you have until Oct. 20 to get that done. Shame on you if you don't.)
Even before the Republican Party chose a 72-year-old two-time cancer patient as its presidential candidate and a woman from Wasilla, Alaska, who has a rifle rack showing in the back window of her pickup cab as its vice presidential nominee, I had determined that they don't get my vote. And even though you didn't ask why and you probably don't care what anybody in the Big Bad Media thinks, I'll tell you why.
About a month ago I heard one of the television commentators ask aloud the question that had crossed my mind way back in January when the primary elections began. And that question is this: What part of the past eight years makes the Republican Party deserving of another four (or probably eight) years in the White House? What makes them worthy of being rewarded for the last eight years?
Since the first time each of us began taking social studies and learning about the governmental process in our country, we learned that we have a powerful weapon to use against office-holders with whom we disagree---vote them out of office when the next election comes around. You may say that President Bush (and Cheney and Rumsfeld, et al.) aren't running for re-election so I shouldn't use that reasoning. Sorry, but what is my alternative? Pretending that Sen. McCain is a new man, a maverick, a reformer, even though he's been in the U.S. Senate for more than two decades is a bit of a stretch.
That's my take. I realize that the majority of voters in this state disagree with me. But whichever way you have decided to vote, just be sure to do it, either now in advance or at the polls on Election Day.
Regardless of your political persuasions and mine, we can agree that the debates this year should draw all-time record numbers of television viewers, starting Friday night when Sen. Obama and possibly even Sen. McCain face the questioning of Jim Lehrer on the campus at Ole Miss. It's enough to make me consider skipping high school football this week to stay home to watch the debate live. Rest assured, however, that the cable news networks will be rebroadcasting the debate later in the evening and early-morning hours if you aren't home to see it when it happens live.
Then there will come the one debate between Sen. Biden and Gov. Palin next Thursday, Oct. 2, followed by two more presidential candidate debates on Oct. 7 and Oct. 15.
In this crazy, memorable year of incredible interest in politics, these four debates could tip the scales. Even not, they will make for fascinating television viewing.
Thanks for reading this far as I expressed my views. I respect yours as well, even you who will reply to this as "Anonymous."
Thursday, September 18, 2008
This wouldn't happen in football
The Cubs' game wasn't on TV today, so I had the radio upstairs and the radio downstairs tuned to their radio broadcast on our local station. With the "magic number" at 4, they could clinch the division title by as early as Friday by winning today. Besides, it's the Brewers, and who better to hurt than the Brewers!
But in the bottom of the ninth with two out and nobody on base and Milwaukee leading 6-2, I gave up and took Oliver outside so he could do his duty. I arrived back inside the house just in time to hear Pat Hughes say, ". . . . . and the game is tied!"
Somehow or other they got enough runners on base to get a run to make it 6-3, then Soto hit a three-run homer to tie it up. Amazing!
Then they survived a couple of Brewer threats in extra innings and won it 7-6 in the bottom of the 12th. The "magic number" is two, and the division could be clinched as early as Friday night.
We've been here before, and we've said, "This could be the year," before, but it's time to say it again.
I wish my mom were here to enjoy this. If you don't know what I mean by that, I'll explain in a later post. It's only Sept. 18, and the playoffs are still two weeks away, so we have plenty of time in which to write about the Cubs and our history with them.
Now if only we could revive the Twins.
But in the bottom of the ninth with two out and nobody on base and Milwaukee leading 6-2, I gave up and took Oliver outside so he could do his duty. I arrived back inside the house just in time to hear Pat Hughes say, ". . . . . and the game is tied!"
Somehow or other they got enough runners on base to get a run to make it 6-3, then Soto hit a three-run homer to tie it up. Amazing!
Then they survived a couple of Brewer threats in extra innings and won it 7-6 in the bottom of the 12th. The "magic number" is two, and the division could be clinched as early as Friday night.
We've been here before, and we've said, "This could be the year," before, but it's time to say it again.
I wish my mom were here to enjoy this. If you don't know what I mean by that, I'll explain in a later post. It's only Sept. 18, and the playoffs are still two weeks away, so we have plenty of time in which to write about the Cubs and our history with them.
Now if only we could revive the Twins.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
From the Olympics back to politics
It was a nice two-week respite during which I ignored politics and watched hours upon hours of the Olympics, even when I knew in advance the results. But as of Monday morning, I was going through Olympics withdrawal. No more Michael Phelps, no more Sanya Richards, no more beach volleyball, no more indoor volleyball! Oh the agony! But the political conventions will get me through to the start of NFL football and the final four weeks of the pennant races.
I've never been a volleyball fan, but, aside from the spectacular swimming events the first week, both the indoor and the outdoor volleyball competitions really caught my interest this time. The American men's team's gold-medal finish was especially sweet.
And it was hard not to be impressed by the opening and closing ceremonies. I can't imagine how many hundreds of people were involved, but China put on quite a show. Now let's see what the Brits do four years from now.
Now this week I'm watching the political coverage from morning to midnight. I seldom turn to the Republican news channel, otherwise known as Fox News (you know, "fair and balanced" and all that hogwash?). Every time I do, they seem to be interviewing some Republican. I wonder whom they will talk to next week in St. Paul?
One of the sweet moments of Monday's TV coverage was Chris Matthews of MSNBC pumping a wacko woman out in the crowd for details about the "17-page report" allegedly proving that Barack Obama is a Muslim that she was waving around. What a bunch of nut jobs politics brings out of the woodwork!
Tonight we get rid of one of the Clintons, and tomorrow night we are finished with the other. Hopefully by week's end most of the Hillary crowd will "get it" that the ballgame is over and they have lost. It was close, yes, but it's over and they have lost.
Next week I suspect I will not write a blog about the other convention. If I've heard once that Sen. McCain spent 5 1/2 years as a prisoner of war, I've heard it a thousand times. I get it. I admire his service to the country, but since when is the presidency a reward for time served? Oh well.
The conventions as they are these days are probably pointless, but it's the system we have in place. Better to be watching (and later voting) than not showing any interest at all.
And speaking of that, do you who are going back to college have your voting situation in order for the general election? Do you know when absentee ballots will be available from your county auditor back home? Will you make the effort and do your duty or simply ignore it because it's too much trouble. You tell me.
I've never been a volleyball fan, but, aside from the spectacular swimming events the first week, both the indoor and the outdoor volleyball competitions really caught my interest this time. The American men's team's gold-medal finish was especially sweet.
And it was hard not to be impressed by the opening and closing ceremonies. I can't imagine how many hundreds of people were involved, but China put on quite a show. Now let's see what the Brits do four years from now.
Now this week I'm watching the political coverage from morning to midnight. I seldom turn to the Republican news channel, otherwise known as Fox News (you know, "fair and balanced" and all that hogwash?). Every time I do, they seem to be interviewing some Republican. I wonder whom they will talk to next week in St. Paul?
One of the sweet moments of Monday's TV coverage was Chris Matthews of MSNBC pumping a wacko woman out in the crowd for details about the "17-page report" allegedly proving that Barack Obama is a Muslim that she was waving around. What a bunch of nut jobs politics brings out of the woodwork!
Tonight we get rid of one of the Clintons, and tomorrow night we are finished with the other. Hopefully by week's end most of the Hillary crowd will "get it" that the ballgame is over and they have lost. It was close, yes, but it's over and they have lost.
Next week I suspect I will not write a blog about the other convention. If I've heard once that Sen. McCain spent 5 1/2 years as a prisoner of war, I've heard it a thousand times. I get it. I admire his service to the country, but since when is the presidency a reward for time served? Oh well.
The conventions as they are these days are probably pointless, but it's the system we have in place. Better to be watching (and later voting) than not showing any interest at all.
And speaking of that, do you who are going back to college have your voting situation in order for the general election? Do you know when absentee ballots will be available from your county auditor back home? Will you make the effort and do your duty or simply ignore it because it's too much trouble. You tell me.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Where were you when Michael won his eighth gold?
Among the millions of people who were watching television last Saturday night when Michael Phelps, Brendan Hansen, Aaron Piersol and Jason Lezak raced for gold in the 400m swimming medley at the Olympics, I count myself among about 100, most of whom will never forget where they were when it happened.
I don't recall the name of the bar, but it's located inside the Crossroads hotel and convention center in Huron.
I was there along with more than 300 other people for the Huron College all-school reunion, a glorious opportunity to see many people with whom I went to college but most of whom I hadn't seen for 48 years. Incredibly a lot of them immediately recognized me, and in most cases I knew who they were, too.
While the HC reunion was going on in the convention center, so too was a large wedding reception in an adjoining room.
So as the 10:00 hour approached, the crowd in the bar began to grow. Vacant chairs became few and far between until there were none. There were reunion people there, there was the male half of the wedding party, and there were others who were probably just out for a Saturday night on the town.
I thought it rather neat that the barmaids yelled about three minutes before the swimmers took their places, "Any last orders before the race?" Apparently they, too, wanted to watch it and not be in anybody's way delivering drinks!
The wedding party guys, who were probably just past the age of 21, were fun to have in there. They began the tradiitional Olympic chant of "USA! USA! USA!"
As the medley began, one could cut the tension with a knife, especially since other countries' teams had the lead until Michael Phelps took to the pool for his butterfly leg. From then on, we bar patrons were yelling and cheering, imploring him to get the lead, which he did. From then on, as Lezak anchored the race for America, it was pandemonium. And as he hit the wall first to clinch the gold medal, people stood and cheered.
It was a great experience, and I for one will remember for a long time where I was when Michael Phelps (and his very valuable teammates) made Olympic history and swam their way into the record books.
I don't recall the name of the bar, but it's located inside the Crossroads hotel and convention center in Huron.
I was there along with more than 300 other people for the Huron College all-school reunion, a glorious opportunity to see many people with whom I went to college but most of whom I hadn't seen for 48 years. Incredibly a lot of them immediately recognized me, and in most cases I knew who they were, too.
While the HC reunion was going on in the convention center, so too was a large wedding reception in an adjoining room.
So as the 10:00 hour approached, the crowd in the bar began to grow. Vacant chairs became few and far between until there were none. There were reunion people there, there was the male half of the wedding party, and there were others who were probably just out for a Saturday night on the town.
I thought it rather neat that the barmaids yelled about three minutes before the swimmers took their places, "Any last orders before the race?" Apparently they, too, wanted to watch it and not be in anybody's way delivering drinks!
The wedding party guys, who were probably just past the age of 21, were fun to have in there. They began the tradiitional Olympic chant of "USA! USA! USA!"
As the medley began, one could cut the tension with a knife, especially since other countries' teams had the lead until Michael Phelps took to the pool for his butterfly leg. From then on, we bar patrons were yelling and cheering, imploring him to get the lead, which he did. From then on, as Lezak anchored the race for America, it was pandemonium. And as he hit the wall first to clinch the gold medal, people stood and cheered.
It was a great experience, and I for one will remember for a long time where I was when Michael Phelps (and his very valuable teammates) made Olympic history and swam their way into the record books.
Monday, August 11, 2008
It's never too late to go home again
My hometown of Onida has its own Sully County Fair on the second weekend of August, and for the 86th straight time, this year was no exception. But this year's fair was extra special because a few dozen hard-working people who live there had incorporated Onida's 125th anniversary into the fair. From all over the country, Onida natives came home, and I was one of them.
The tower of the Oahe Grain elevator is visible over the horizon for at least 15 miles away, and as I sped north on Highway 83 last Friday night, I was genuinely excited at the prospects of visiting the old hometown again and seeing people with whom I hadn't spoken for decades. The sad fact of life had been that almost all of my last few visits to Onida over the past 10 years had all been for funerals. This one was purely for fun.
The weekend didn't disappoint.
Maybe it's the same way between you and the people who grew up with you in your hometown. But it seems to me as if Onida folks---past and present---can be away from each other for 10 years or more and, immediately after a firm handshake or a heart-felt hug, can smoothly resume a conversation as if no time had passed in the interim. That happened over and over again all weekend long.
Since my brother and sister-in-law still live in Onida, I had a built-in place to stay. Their daughter and her family were also there from Rapid City, so it was a family reunion as well as a community reunion.
John and Linda also opened up their home and their backyard to four OHS graduating classes. Fortunately the weather cooperated beautifully---enough clouds to keep the temps in the 80s, enough breeze to keep the bugs away---as members of the Classes of 1959, 1960, 1961 (John's class) and 1962 reunited in one place. Though I graduated from OHS in 1956, the '59ers were freshmen during my senior year, and I knew many of the others, of course, so it was a great time to visit and recall memories from out of the very distant past.
The weekend also included a fish fry at the home of long-time friends on Friday night.
After that the place to be was uptown Onida where the city fathers had directed that a full block of Main Street be blocked off for the evening so that patrons of the two watering holes could walk back and forth. Brewster's on the east side of the street had a band on a stage in their patio area. The Blue Goose on the west side had a band out back, and the spot where our old Roxy Theatre once stood until its demolition earlier this year had become an outdoor patio. In the middle of Main Street, with no traffic to worry about, hundreds of us milled about, rediscovering so many people who in one way or another had been part of our earlier lives.
An annual tradition at the Sully County Fair is the alumni breakfast at the senior center early Saturday morning. It has become the place to gather and to see who's in town.
Then at noon Saturday the Dean Nelson family and the Joe and Dorothy Lamb family generously served a free (yes, I said "free"!) prime-rib or burgers dinner to more than a thousand people at the high school gym. The bleachers and the main floor were jammed full of people, and the joyful reunions with people I hadn't expected to see were numerous for me as I'm sure they were for countless others.
But the big event of the weekend was the 125th anniversary parade, and I had the honor of being the P.A. announcer at the head of Main Street as the parade, which formed on Ash Avenue, extending from uptown all the way east into the countryside, made a left turn and headed down Main Street where crowds awaited.
The image of Onida's Main Street is one that never leaves your mind once you have seen it. The majestic old Sully County Courthouse sits on the hill at the top of Main Street. The parade committee had me perched on a forklift of some sort across the street from there. Thanks also to the committee, I had a ream of material at my disposal, information on every float and entry in the parade.
The long line of more than 120 entries took more than an hour to pass my location and wend its way on down Main Street where another announcer waited to pick up the narrative. There was an alumni band, members of many of Sully Buttes High's outstanding award-winning bands from over the years, and for a group that had gotten together for the first time only an hour before the parade started, they sounded terrific. There's nothing like a marching band to set the pace for a parade.
There were kings and queens, former Snow Queens, political candidates, National Guard vehicles, tractors, covered wagons, horses, Miss Rodeo South Dakota, family floats, church floats, business vehicles, the two-time state "B" girls basketball champions, kids on bicycles, and a high school-age rock band. Now that was a parade!
The fairgrounds at the southeast corner of town became the focal point for the rest of the day's events. Thanks to hometown Sutton Rodeos Inc., the Sully County Fair always has for two nights what is probably the best rodeo of any county fair in South Dakota. During the day there is everything from a stick horse rodeo, bingo, a tire toss and a frying pan toss to 4-H activities, co-ed beach volleyball, a softball tournament, inflatable carnival rides and a youth talent contest.
Late on Saturday night, after the rodeo ended, no matter where we were in Onida, we had ringside seats for the best fireworks display I've ever seen.
Though county fair events continued on Sunday, I headed home to Vermillion to relieve my daughter who had taken on dog-sitting duties for the weekend so I could home. But as I drove cross-country (instead of on the interstate!) through Blunt and Miller and Huron and Parker and Viborg, I couldn't help but smile at all the people with whom I had been able to visit. I had seen 11 of my 25 surviving Class of '56 classmates, dozens of former students since I taught in that district for 13 years, and countless others. Larry from North Carolina, Julie from Texas, Bob from Georgia, Monte from Minnesota, Corwyn from California, Melissa from Alaska, Myron and Christi from Iowa, Carol from Virginia, Hazel from Wyoming, Jean from California, Gerry from Iowa, Sharon from Colorado, Joe and Ellen from Wyoming, Mary from New Mexico, Gary from Ohio, Brad from Minnesota, Caroline from Illinois, Tim from Wyoming, Kirke from Florida, Ellen and Dorothy from Missouri, Jason from Kansas, Janet from Minnesota, people from everywhere imaginable in South Dakota, including the Rillings from Custer, and Onida natives who lived there when I did and who are still there, not to mention others whom I'm unintentionally forgetting.
It was one of those weekends not to be missed, and if your hometown has one such celebration coming soon, don't stay home just because you're busy or just because you can't afford it or just because you're too tired or just because gas costs so much. Life is too short to miss the chance to reconnect with those who have been a part of your life.
Now, as I finish this and send it on its way to the Custer Chronicle office and to my blogsite, I am again giddy with anticipation because, only a week after going home to Onida for that magnificent reunion, I'm on the road to Huron where anybody and everybody who ever attended Huron College have been invited to a big reunion. There will be more than 300 people, as I hear it, and I will see people who are now in their 60s and 70s but who back in my H.C. days were, like me, in their late teens and early 20s. There will be people with whom I shared choir tours, "Y" meetings, coffee in the Wigwam, football games against the Evil Empire (Northern!), "Camelot," dorm-closing moments in the Passion Pit, Pow Wow Day parades, weekly services in the chapel, Alphomega newspaper staff meetings, student body campaigns, pizza nights at Charlie's, practice-teaching at Huron High, humanities class with Dean Agnes Hanson, religion classes with Mr. Weeks and Dr. Ross, P.E. classes with the football jocks, the lunch line at the cafeteria, and the Pan-Hellenic formal.
If they're smart, they will say as several in Onida did, "You haven't changed a bit!" It may be a bald-faced lie, but it's good to hear anyway.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Favre fever: I was sick of Brett Favre and his whole flip-flopping saga long before the rest of the civilized world was sick of him.
As a Vikings fan since attending their first-ever game against Dallas in Sioux Falls in August 1961, I was hoping and almost praying that, wherever the Good Ol' Boy ended up, it was not Minneapolis. No true-blue Viking fan could stomach the prospect of a stinkin' Packer being their quarterback, even if Mr. Wonderful did take them to the Super Bowl. Fortunately the Packer management stayed strong and sent the Good Ol' Boy packing to the other conference where he can play out his days until his next tearful retirement ceremony.
As I was watching and listening to the whole drama unfold the week of Aug. 3, I began to wonder if it ever occurred to the Good Ol' Boy from down-home Mississippi to change clothes. As he and First Lady Deanna boarded their jet in Hattiesburg on Sunday, he was wearing a gray T-shirt and a pair of khaki shorts. The next day as we saw him enter the Packer complex in Green Bay, it was the same attire.
On Wednesday as he left Green Bay to go back to Hattiesburg, he was still wearing the gray T-shirt and khaki shorts. I found myself hoping that First Lady Deanna would, when she got home, take time to wash a load of clothes.
Lo and behold, on Thursday when the Good Ol' Boy headed for New York, what do you suppose he chose as his wardrobe for the day. Would you believe a gray T-shirt and a pair of khaki shorts. I guess $18 million per year doesn't go very far these days, but his Wrangler jeans commercial (you know, the one where he says how comfortable he is in Wrangler) ought to warrant a couple of pairs of pants. I was not surprised to see that, by the time Broadway Brett had flown to Cleveland for his first Jets press conference that Thursday evening, he was still wearing the same clothes.
Thankfully, for the sake of New York's Mayor Bloomberg and others around him at City Hall during the welcoming ceremony on Friday morning, somebody had persuaded the Good Ol' Boy to wear something else.
When I wrote this column on Monday, Aug. 10, the Brett Favre Television Network, which sometimes goes by the name 'ESPN,' was still talking almost nonstop about No. 4. I shut them off and haven't chosen their channel since. I will no doubt return to ESPN on Sept. 8 when they televise the Vikings-Packers game. I will listen until they mention the name "Favre" for the 50th time after which I will shut off their sound and listen to the Vikings radio broadcast.
Do I hope Favre does well with the Jets? Actually an 0-16 record would be what I would like to see. It would be fun to see how the Good Ol' Boy handles the New York media.
As for the Packers, I hope Aaron Rodgers does well (except, of course, in his two games against Minnesota). He seems like a nice guy, and he's handled this Favre circus with dignity. Too bad he's the next stinkin' Packer I will somehow learn to hate.
-o-o-o-o-o-
The tower of the Oahe Grain elevator is visible over the horizon for at least 15 miles away, and as I sped north on Highway 83 last Friday night, I was genuinely excited at the prospects of visiting the old hometown again and seeing people with whom I hadn't spoken for decades. The sad fact of life had been that almost all of my last few visits to Onida over the past 10 years had all been for funerals. This one was purely for fun.
The weekend didn't disappoint.
Maybe it's the same way between you and the people who grew up with you in your hometown. But it seems to me as if Onida folks---past and present---can be away from each other for 10 years or more and, immediately after a firm handshake or a heart-felt hug, can smoothly resume a conversation as if no time had passed in the interim. That happened over and over again all weekend long.
Since my brother and sister-in-law still live in Onida, I had a built-in place to stay. Their daughter and her family were also there from Rapid City, so it was a family reunion as well as a community reunion.
John and Linda also opened up their home and their backyard to four OHS graduating classes. Fortunately the weather cooperated beautifully---enough clouds to keep the temps in the 80s, enough breeze to keep the bugs away---as members of the Classes of 1959, 1960, 1961 (John's class) and 1962 reunited in one place. Though I graduated from OHS in 1956, the '59ers were freshmen during my senior year, and I knew many of the others, of course, so it was a great time to visit and recall memories from out of the very distant past.
The weekend also included a fish fry at the home of long-time friends on Friday night.
After that the place to be was uptown Onida where the city fathers had directed that a full block of Main Street be blocked off for the evening so that patrons of the two watering holes could walk back and forth. Brewster's on the east side of the street had a band on a stage in their patio area. The Blue Goose on the west side had a band out back, and the spot where our old Roxy Theatre once stood until its demolition earlier this year had become an outdoor patio. In the middle of Main Street, with no traffic to worry about, hundreds of us milled about, rediscovering so many people who in one way or another had been part of our earlier lives.
An annual tradition at the Sully County Fair is the alumni breakfast at the senior center early Saturday morning. It has become the place to gather and to see who's in town.
Then at noon Saturday the Dean Nelson family and the Joe and Dorothy Lamb family generously served a free (yes, I said "free"!) prime-rib or burgers dinner to more than a thousand people at the high school gym. The bleachers and the main floor were jammed full of people, and the joyful reunions with people I hadn't expected to see were numerous for me as I'm sure they were for countless others.
But the big event of the weekend was the 125th anniversary parade, and I had the honor of being the P.A. announcer at the head of Main Street as the parade, which formed on Ash Avenue, extending from uptown all the way east into the countryside, made a left turn and headed down Main Street where crowds awaited.
The image of Onida's Main Street is one that never leaves your mind once you have seen it. The majestic old Sully County Courthouse sits on the hill at the top of Main Street. The parade committee had me perched on a forklift of some sort across the street from there. Thanks also to the committee, I had a ream of material at my disposal, information on every float and entry in the parade.
The long line of more than 120 entries took more than an hour to pass my location and wend its way on down Main Street where another announcer waited to pick up the narrative. There was an alumni band, members of many of Sully Buttes High's outstanding award-winning bands from over the years, and for a group that had gotten together for the first time only an hour before the parade started, they sounded terrific. There's nothing like a marching band to set the pace for a parade.
There were kings and queens, former Snow Queens, political candidates, National Guard vehicles, tractors, covered wagons, horses, Miss Rodeo South Dakota, family floats, church floats, business vehicles, the two-time state "B" girls basketball champions, kids on bicycles, and a high school-age rock band. Now that was a parade!
The fairgrounds at the southeast corner of town became the focal point for the rest of the day's events. Thanks to hometown Sutton Rodeos Inc., the Sully County Fair always has for two nights what is probably the best rodeo of any county fair in South Dakota. During the day there is everything from a stick horse rodeo, bingo, a tire toss and a frying pan toss to 4-H activities, co-ed beach volleyball, a softball tournament, inflatable carnival rides and a youth talent contest.
Late on Saturday night, after the rodeo ended, no matter where we were in Onida, we had ringside seats for the best fireworks display I've ever seen.
Though county fair events continued on Sunday, I headed home to Vermillion to relieve my daughter who had taken on dog-sitting duties for the weekend so I could home. But as I drove cross-country (instead of on the interstate!) through Blunt and Miller and Huron and Parker and Viborg, I couldn't help but smile at all the people with whom I had been able to visit. I had seen 11 of my 25 surviving Class of '56 classmates, dozens of former students since I taught in that district for 13 years, and countless others. Larry from North Carolina, Julie from Texas, Bob from Georgia, Monte from Minnesota, Corwyn from California, Melissa from Alaska, Myron and Christi from Iowa, Carol from Virginia, Hazel from Wyoming, Jean from California, Gerry from Iowa, Sharon from Colorado, Joe and Ellen from Wyoming, Mary from New Mexico, Gary from Ohio, Brad from Minnesota, Caroline from Illinois, Tim from Wyoming, Kirke from Florida, Ellen and Dorothy from Missouri, Jason from Kansas, Janet from Minnesota, people from everywhere imaginable in South Dakota, including the Rillings from Custer, and Onida natives who lived there when I did and who are still there, not to mention others whom I'm unintentionally forgetting.
It was one of those weekends not to be missed, and if your hometown has one such celebration coming soon, don't stay home just because you're busy or just because you can't afford it or just because you're too tired or just because gas costs so much. Life is too short to miss the chance to reconnect with those who have been a part of your life.
Now, as I finish this and send it on its way to the Custer Chronicle office and to my blogsite, I am again giddy with anticipation because, only a week after going home to Onida for that magnificent reunion, I'm on the road to Huron where anybody and everybody who ever attended Huron College have been invited to a big reunion. There will be more than 300 people, as I hear it, and I will see people who are now in their 60s and 70s but who back in my H.C. days were, like me, in their late teens and early 20s. There will be people with whom I shared choir tours, "Y" meetings, coffee in the Wigwam, football games against the Evil Empire (Northern!), "Camelot," dorm-closing moments in the Passion Pit, Pow Wow Day parades, weekly services in the chapel, Alphomega newspaper staff meetings, student body campaigns, pizza nights at Charlie's, practice-teaching at Huron High, humanities class with Dean Agnes Hanson, religion classes with Mr. Weeks and Dr. Ross, P.E. classes with the football jocks, the lunch line at the cafeteria, and the Pan-Hellenic formal.
If they're smart, they will say as several in Onida did, "You haven't changed a bit!" It may be a bald-faced lie, but it's good to hear anyway.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Favre fever: I was sick of Brett Favre and his whole flip-flopping saga long before the rest of the civilized world was sick of him.
As a Vikings fan since attending their first-ever game against Dallas in Sioux Falls in August 1961, I was hoping and almost praying that, wherever the Good Ol' Boy ended up, it was not Minneapolis. No true-blue Viking fan could stomach the prospect of a stinkin' Packer being their quarterback, even if Mr. Wonderful did take them to the Super Bowl. Fortunately the Packer management stayed strong and sent the Good Ol' Boy packing to the other conference where he can play out his days until his next tearful retirement ceremony.
As I was watching and listening to the whole drama unfold the week of Aug. 3, I began to wonder if it ever occurred to the Good Ol' Boy from down-home Mississippi to change clothes. As he and First Lady Deanna boarded their jet in Hattiesburg on Sunday, he was wearing a gray T-shirt and a pair of khaki shorts. The next day as we saw him enter the Packer complex in Green Bay, it was the same attire.
On Wednesday as he left Green Bay to go back to Hattiesburg, he was still wearing the gray T-shirt and khaki shorts. I found myself hoping that First Lady Deanna would, when she got home, take time to wash a load of clothes.
Lo and behold, on Thursday when the Good Ol' Boy headed for New York, what do you suppose he chose as his wardrobe for the day. Would you believe a gray T-shirt and a pair of khaki shorts. I guess $18 million per year doesn't go very far these days, but his Wrangler jeans commercial (you know, the one where he says how comfortable he is in Wrangler) ought to warrant a couple of pairs of pants. I was not surprised to see that, by the time Broadway Brett had flown to Cleveland for his first Jets press conference that Thursday evening, he was still wearing the same clothes.
Thankfully, for the sake of New York's Mayor Bloomberg and others around him at City Hall during the welcoming ceremony on Friday morning, somebody had persuaded the Good Ol' Boy to wear something else.
When I wrote this column on Monday, Aug. 10, the Brett Favre Television Network, which sometimes goes by the name 'ESPN,' was still talking almost nonstop about No. 4. I shut them off and haven't chosen their channel since. I will no doubt return to ESPN on Sept. 8 when they televise the Vikings-Packers game. I will listen until they mention the name "Favre" for the 50th time after which I will shut off their sound and listen to the Vikings radio broadcast.
Do I hope Favre does well with the Jets? Actually an 0-16 record would be what I would like to see. It would be fun to see how the Good Ol' Boy handles the New York media.
As for the Packers, I hope Aaron Rodgers does well (except, of course, in his two games against Minnesota). He seems like a nice guy, and he's handled this Favre circus with dignity. Too bad he's the next stinkin' Packer I will somehow learn to hate.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
I'll miss those early mornings
During these summer days with Heather commuting to work in Sioux Falls and Dylan here part of the time and gone part of the time to his dad's, the favorite part of each of my days while he has been here is from 6:30 to 8:30 a.m.
Dylan's "best buddy," by far, is his mom, so on those mornings when he has had trouble waking up before Heather's mandatory departure time of 6:45, he has been very disappointed that his mom has already left. So most days, Heather or I or both of us have managed to wake up Dylan so he can wave goodbye to his mom.
The typical routine is that I pick him up with Roscoe (his Minnesota Twins monkey) and a couple of other stuffed animals in tow and carry him (them!) outside as Heather gets into her car.
Dylan's and my standard game has been betting on which way Heather will go from our intersection---north to Cherry Street or east, a shorter way to get out to Highway 50 and on to I-29. She always goes east, and I know that and she knows that, so our "game" is that I bet she will go straight from our corner and Ryan bets she will turn east. Of course she always turns east, and he is delighted as he waves goodbye to his mom.
We stand out there until her car disappears far down Main Street to the east.
The rest of our routine is that from 6:45 to 7:00 Dylan watches "Arthur" on Iowa Public Television while I get my quick shower downstairs. The 7:00 half-hour is for "Curious George," during which time I fix Dylan some breakfast---fruit today? toast? cereal? Then during the 7:30 "Clifford" half-hour I get him dressed for the day. Heather always has his clothes set out, but sometimes Dylan determines he needs to wear his clothes for a particular sport, or he has one of his uniform-numbered shirts to wear. Finally after 8:00 he watches as much of "Super Why" as we have time for before heading off to the USD Children's Center in time to arrive there by 8:30.
Tuesday was the last of these very special mornings for this summer. Dylan is on to his dad's in Rapid City today for the last of this summer's 10-day visits out there, so by the time he is back for the week after next, Heather will be done with work in Sioux Falls and back in law school class here and she will have time to take Dylan to the children's center herself.
I'll miss those early mornings. They have been the highlight of the summer.
Dylan's "best buddy," by far, is his mom, so on those mornings when he has had trouble waking up before Heather's mandatory departure time of 6:45, he has been very disappointed that his mom has already left. So most days, Heather or I or both of us have managed to wake up Dylan so he can wave goodbye to his mom.
The typical routine is that I pick him up with Roscoe (his Minnesota Twins monkey) and a couple of other stuffed animals in tow and carry him (them!) outside as Heather gets into her car.
Dylan's and my standard game has been betting on which way Heather will go from our intersection---north to Cherry Street or east, a shorter way to get out to Highway 50 and on to I-29. She always goes east, and I know that and she knows that, so our "game" is that I bet she will go straight from our corner and Ryan bets she will turn east. Of course she always turns east, and he is delighted as he waves goodbye to his mom.
We stand out there until her car disappears far down Main Street to the east.
The rest of our routine is that from 6:45 to 7:00 Dylan watches "Arthur" on Iowa Public Television while I get my quick shower downstairs. The 7:00 half-hour is for "Curious George," during which time I fix Dylan some breakfast---fruit today? toast? cereal? Then during the 7:30 "Clifford" half-hour I get him dressed for the day. Heather always has his clothes set out, but sometimes Dylan determines he needs to wear his clothes for a particular sport, or he has one of his uniform-numbered shirts to wear. Finally after 8:00 he watches as much of "Super Why" as we have time for before heading off to the USD Children's Center in time to arrive there by 8:30.
Tuesday was the last of these very special mornings for this summer. Dylan is on to his dad's in Rapid City today for the last of this summer's 10-day visits out there, so by the time he is back for the week after next, Heather will be done with work in Sioux Falls and back in law school class here and she will have time to take Dylan to the children's center herself.
I'll miss those early mornings. They have been the highlight of the summer.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Did he say 'It's only a goose!'?
As I was listening to sports talk radio from Minneapolis this morning, desiring to be among the first in the world to immediately know if and when Brett Favre leaves his house, what he had for breakfast and whom he called most recently on his cellular phone, a totally unrelated topic raised its ugly head.
An e-mail responder to KFAN's "Common Man" lambasted a lady driver who had first committed the unthinkable---slowing down on I-35W to the posted speed limit or below. Secondly, it was reported from reliable sources that the dizzy woman had done so merely to attempt to save the life of a wayward goose which had made a daring decision to cross the interstate freeway to get to the other side.
(STOP THE PRESSES! Brett Favre just left Lambeau Field in his SUV, so he is not practicing with the Cheeseheads today. I swear the earth beneath the state of Wisconsin just moved again.)
Now back to the lady on I-35W. Apparently, without harm to her personal life or limb, she maneuvered her vehicle onto the median, got out of the car and tried to coax the goose into taking flight to safety.
The e-mailer to the call-in sports talk show shouted (I imagine he wrote in CAPITAL LETTERS), "Lady, it's only a goose!"
After all, how dare she cause these city slickers to slow down to anything less than 80 MPH on the interstate.
They wouldn't survive in Pierre, that's for sure. There, not only on the streets in the vicinity of Capitol Lake but also all over town, the geese who winter there and those who stop by during the other seasons have the right of way, whether any traffic signs state this fact or not. Over the years it has become commonplace for cars to back up a block in both directions, without any impatient driver pounding his horn, to await a goose's passage across Capitol Avenue on one side of the lake or Broadway on the other side.
Just this past year the rescue squad was called---and dutifully responded---when some goslings became trapped in a culvert near the lake. Imagine how the city slickers would have hooted over that sort of occurrence!
I can't be sure if the lady in question is still stranded on the median along I-35W. Hopefully the goose has taken flight and that some driver (no doubt one from outside the Twin Cities) has slowed to allow the lady's vehicle back into the traffic stream.
How dare she pull such a stunt!
An e-mail responder to KFAN's "Common Man" lambasted a lady driver who had first committed the unthinkable---slowing down on I-35W to the posted speed limit or below. Secondly, it was reported from reliable sources that the dizzy woman had done so merely to attempt to save the life of a wayward goose which had made a daring decision to cross the interstate freeway to get to the other side.
(STOP THE PRESSES! Brett Favre just left Lambeau Field in his SUV, so he is not practicing with the Cheeseheads today. I swear the earth beneath the state of Wisconsin just moved again.)
Now back to the lady on I-35W. Apparently, without harm to her personal life or limb, she maneuvered her vehicle onto the median, got out of the car and tried to coax the goose into taking flight to safety.
The e-mailer to the call-in sports talk show shouted (I imagine he wrote in CAPITAL LETTERS), "Lady, it's only a goose!"
After all, how dare she cause these city slickers to slow down to anything less than 80 MPH on the interstate.
They wouldn't survive in Pierre, that's for sure. There, not only on the streets in the vicinity of Capitol Lake but also all over town, the geese who winter there and those who stop by during the other seasons have the right of way, whether any traffic signs state this fact or not. Over the years it has become commonplace for cars to back up a block in both directions, without any impatient driver pounding his horn, to await a goose's passage across Capitol Avenue on one side of the lake or Broadway on the other side.
Just this past year the rescue squad was called---and dutifully responded---when some goslings became trapped in a culvert near the lake. Imagine how the city slickers would have hooted over that sort of occurrence!
I can't be sure if the lady in question is still stranded on the median along I-35W. Hopefully the goose has taken flight and that some driver (no doubt one from outside the Twin Cities) has slowed to allow the lady's vehicle back into the traffic stream.
How dare she pull such a stunt!
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Tennis grunters and other crises
TENNIS NOISES: As I typed on the computer in the kitchen this morning, I could hear Maria Sharapova's screech each time she struck the tennis ball all the way from the TV set in the living room. That sound she makes is not a simple grunt. I could handle that. But this screech she utters each time she swings her racquet sounds like the same noise I heard the last time I visited the exotic birds house at the zoo. The more I watched and listened, the more she disgusted me. I finally became pleased she was playing so poorly.
Are the sensitive microphones that pick up sounds the culprit? Apparently not because I don't hear the same violent screeching when other players swing.
Happily Maria now has a couple of weeks off. Unfortunately my boy, Andy Roddick, will be enjoying the same unexpected vacation. At least we have Federer and Nadal to watch. Hopefully they both last at Wimbledon until a week from Sunday. . . . . .
COLLEGE BASEBALL: What a great story the Fresno State baseball championship is! And how sweet it is that the schools that seem to ALWAYS qualify for the College World Series---LSU, Miami, Rice, USC, Arizona State, Florida State, North Carolina, et al.---win it infrequently! . . . . .
Good luck to Coach Christiansen in California. Sorry to hear he's leaving South Dakota State, but he is leaving his mark there. . . . . .
BASEBALL OBSERVATION: I've spent a lot of hours at Prentis Park in Vermillion this summer, watching Red Sox amateur games and Post 1 Legion games. It seems as if it is usually the visiting team that has the problem, but outfield fly balls are dropping all over the place. Is it the lights that get into the outfielders' eyes? I don't think so because it happens in daylight, too. Maybe it's simply that the visiting coaches are sticking the players who can't catch the ball into the outfield spots instead of the infield. I'm not sure of the reason, but it seems I've written "E7" and "E8" and "E9" on my scorecards many more times this summer than in the past. . . . . .
Things are not going well today, so far at least. Andy Roddick lost. The Cubs are getting creamed at home where they hardly ever lose. The Twins aren't off to a very good start either. But a departing thought---things could be worse. As Maria Sharapova, the tennis screecher, said in her post-defeat interview, "There are worse things than losing a tennis match."
Are the sensitive microphones that pick up sounds the culprit? Apparently not because I don't hear the same violent screeching when other players swing.
Happily Maria now has a couple of weeks off. Unfortunately my boy, Andy Roddick, will be enjoying the same unexpected vacation. At least we have Federer and Nadal to watch. Hopefully they both last at Wimbledon until a week from Sunday. . . . . .
COLLEGE BASEBALL: What a great story the Fresno State baseball championship is! And how sweet it is that the schools that seem to ALWAYS qualify for the College World Series---LSU, Miami, Rice, USC, Arizona State, Florida State, North Carolina, et al.---win it infrequently! . . . . .
Good luck to Coach Christiansen in California. Sorry to hear he's leaving South Dakota State, but he is leaving his mark there. . . . . .
BASEBALL OBSERVATION: I've spent a lot of hours at Prentis Park in Vermillion this summer, watching Red Sox amateur games and Post 1 Legion games. It seems as if it is usually the visiting team that has the problem, but outfield fly balls are dropping all over the place. Is it the lights that get into the outfielders' eyes? I don't think so because it happens in daylight, too. Maybe it's simply that the visiting coaches are sticking the players who can't catch the ball into the outfield spots instead of the infield. I'm not sure of the reason, but it seems I've written "E7" and "E8" and "E9" on my scorecards many more times this summer than in the past. . . . . .
Things are not going well today, so far at least. Andy Roddick lost. The Cubs are getting creamed at home where they hardly ever lose. The Twins aren't off to a very good start either. But a departing thought---things could be worse. As Maria Sharapova, the tennis screecher, said in her post-defeat interview, "There are worse things than losing a tennis match."
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Cleansing my brain of negative thoughts
In light of the news that Tiger Woods won't be playing in any of the PGA Tour events until 2009, people are decrying the fact that there is no reason to watch professional golf on TV for the rest of the year. That's probably true except for one thing---to cheer against Retief Goosen, or whatever his name is, for suggesting aloud that Tiger has been faking his injury. It may not help divert the path of one of his potential tournament-winning putts, but when Goosen steps up to the ball, you can be sure I will send my vibes radiating toward the TV screen and yell like crazy, "Miss it!" . . . . .
Do you get the impression I cheer AGAINST players and teams more than I cheer FOR them. Sad, but true. But isn't it sweet that #1 Miami was sent packing out of the College World Series. Aw, that's a shame. Not! Florida State went home, too, and tonight we get to see either North Carolina or LSU eliminated. Whichever it is, SWEET! . . . . .
I sat through a rather entertaining amateur ballgame last night. The Vermillion Red Sox ended up with 13 runs, and the Vermillion Grey Sox had three, but an inning earlier it was a 5-3 game. Actually neither team won---the gnats and mosquitoes did. I hear the City of Vermillion is beginning to spray today. Glad to hear that! Coach Kirk Sorensen's wife asked if I wanted to share her Listerine. That wasn't a comment on my bad breath. She had a spray bottle full of Listerine and informed me that Listerine is a good thing to spray on oneself to keep the bugs away. So I tried it. I indeed smelled like sweet breath for the rest of the game, but the gnats stayed off me, at least until I cut through Prentis Park after the game on the way home. . . . . .
Boston, Boston, Boston. OK, I'm happy for Kevin Garnett. He has his ring, and he was decent enough to say something about Minnesota as he was wildly celebrating the NBA title. But it's Boston. I can't really explain how I can be such a diehard New England Patriots fan (because they play in Foxboro, the suburbs?) and despise the Red Sox and dislike the Celtics. . . . . .
What will the ESPN networks do now that the NBA Finals are over? Shut down for a couple of weeks until pro football training camps open? They now don't have ABC's coverage to promote on that ribbon that rolls across the bottom of the screen. They can't very well show films of the Celtics-Lakers finals from the 1980s. They actually may have to quit talking about Kobe Bryant? . . . . .
So Colin Cowherd of ESPN Radio is coming to Sioux Falls? Probably an entertaining speaker. But I hope somebody asks him a question that makes him squirm, such as an explanation of his derisive comment about the Iowa State football team playing "something called South Dakota State" in the opener this fall. . . . . .
I tried to erase all negative thoughts from my head, but with a Cubs-White Sox series looming each of the next two weekends, I can't totally do that. After all, they are the White Sox. . . . . .
Do you get the impression I cheer AGAINST players and teams more than I cheer FOR them. Sad, but true. But isn't it sweet that #1 Miami was sent packing out of the College World Series. Aw, that's a shame. Not! Florida State went home, too, and tonight we get to see either North Carolina or LSU eliminated. Whichever it is, SWEET! . . . . .
I sat through a rather entertaining amateur ballgame last night. The Vermillion Red Sox ended up with 13 runs, and the Vermillion Grey Sox had three, but an inning earlier it was a 5-3 game. Actually neither team won---the gnats and mosquitoes did. I hear the City of Vermillion is beginning to spray today. Glad to hear that! Coach Kirk Sorensen's wife asked if I wanted to share her Listerine. That wasn't a comment on my bad breath. She had a spray bottle full of Listerine and informed me that Listerine is a good thing to spray on oneself to keep the bugs away. So I tried it. I indeed smelled like sweet breath for the rest of the game, but the gnats stayed off me, at least until I cut through Prentis Park after the game on the way home. . . . . .
Boston, Boston, Boston. OK, I'm happy for Kevin Garnett. He has his ring, and he was decent enough to say something about Minnesota as he was wildly celebrating the NBA title. But it's Boston. I can't really explain how I can be such a diehard New England Patriots fan (because they play in Foxboro, the suburbs?) and despise the Red Sox and dislike the Celtics. . . . . .
What will the ESPN networks do now that the NBA Finals are over? Shut down for a couple of weeks until pro football training camps open? They now don't have ABC's coverage to promote on that ribbon that rolls across the bottom of the screen. They can't very well show films of the Celtics-Lakers finals from the 1980s. They actually may have to quit talking about Kobe Bryant? . . . . .
So Colin Cowherd of ESPN Radio is coming to Sioux Falls? Probably an entertaining speaker. But I hope somebody asks him a question that makes him squirm, such as an explanation of his derisive comment about the Iowa State football team playing "something called South Dakota State" in the opener this fall. . . . . .
I tried to erase all negative thoughts from my head, but with a Cubs-White Sox series looming each of the next two weekends, I can't totally do that. After all, they are the White Sox. . . . . .
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
While the oven heats
With daughter Heather gone to the convention of the State Bar for the rest of the week and grandson Dylan with his father all of this week, it's just Oliver and I here at home. The TV schedule this evening is slim pickings---the College World Series is on (but North Carolina in its sickly blue suits is playing) and the NBA Finals Game #6 will be on (and I want the Celtics and the Lakers both to lose). So I turned on the oven---first for pizza for supper, now for my favorite pumpkin dessert which will last me all week, and next for peanut butter cookies. No reason to heat up the oven separately for each of these reasons, so I'm doing it all at once. . . . . .
There are thunderstorms an hour or so to the west, and it's been overcast here for several hours. We'll see if we get our first rain in a week's time. . . . . .
It will be good when Friday afternoon is over. I mistakenly agreed in April to play a 30-minute organ/piano concert out in the country at Dalesburg Lutheran where they're having their annual Midsummer Festival this weekend. So yesterday I went out to see what music I want to do on that organ, deciding to do four organ pieces, then switch to the piano and throw in some sing-alongs to help make the half hour go quickly. Oliver and I will go out again tomorrow so I can practice again, especially the organ pieces. . . . . .
As I was skimming my newest book purchase, Thurston Clarke's "The Last Campaign," the story of Sen. Robert Kennedy's final 82 days, this morning, I wanted to check out what he said about the South Dakota primary, which occurred that day in 1968 when the senator died. What leaped off the page was a phrase that said something to the effect that the senator received a call from Bill Daugherty (it should have been spelled "Dougherty") "who was in a hotel in Sioux City, South Dakota, with campaign workers."
Good grief! Doesn't Henry Holt & Co. have any proofreaders or editors with some degree of geographical acumen? Apparently not. Sioux City is not in South Dakota; it never was; for that matter, we don't want it.
If I had known such a stupid error was in this book, I wouldn't have spent $20+ on it. How can I be sure anything else the author says is accurate if he can't even get the name of a city in South Dakota correct? . . . . .
There are thunderstorms an hour or so to the west, and it's been overcast here for several hours. We'll see if we get our first rain in a week's time. . . . . .
It will be good when Friday afternoon is over. I mistakenly agreed in April to play a 30-minute organ/piano concert out in the country at Dalesburg Lutheran where they're having their annual Midsummer Festival this weekend. So yesterday I went out to see what music I want to do on that organ, deciding to do four organ pieces, then switch to the piano and throw in some sing-alongs to help make the half hour go quickly. Oliver and I will go out again tomorrow so I can practice again, especially the organ pieces. . . . . .
As I was skimming my newest book purchase, Thurston Clarke's "The Last Campaign," the story of Sen. Robert Kennedy's final 82 days, this morning, I wanted to check out what he said about the South Dakota primary, which occurred that day in 1968 when the senator died. What leaped off the page was a phrase that said something to the effect that the senator received a call from Bill Daugherty (it should have been spelled "Dougherty") "who was in a hotel in Sioux City, South Dakota, with campaign workers."
Good grief! Doesn't Henry Holt & Co. have any proofreaders or editors with some degree of geographical acumen? Apparently not. Sioux City is not in South Dakota; it never was; for that matter, we don't want it.
If I had known such a stupid error was in this book, I wouldn't have spent $20+ on it. How can I be sure anything else the author says is accurate if he can't even get the name of a city in South Dakota correct? . . . . .
Friday, June 13, 2008
'A death in the family'
I had shut off the TV for a couple of hours this afternoon because, after procrastinating all week, I had to get music organized for a performance I have to do next week, so I stumbled upon the news of Tim Russert's death when I rechecked e-mail. So I flipped on the TV, of course, to hear some of the comments, not only on MSNBC but on CNN and even Fox News Channel.
Having spent every Tuesday night of the primary season from Iowa back in early January on through South Dakota in June, I can say that indeed it does seem like "a death in the family" as one of the commentators just stated.
As another said, he was one of the newsmen that could be trusted to grill both political sides equally strongly. I can't imagine "Meet the Press" or Election Night coverage without him.
Having spent every Tuesday night of the primary season from Iowa back in early January on through South Dakota in June, I can say that indeed it does seem like "a death in the family" as one of the commentators just stated.
As another said, he was one of the newsmen that could be trusted to grill both political sides equally strongly. I can't imagine "Meet the Press" or Election Night coverage without him.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Thursday thoughts
I am not a fan of the NBA as stated before, but I must admit I flipped over to the fourth quarter of Game #4 when the 10:00 news came on. Ha! It's fun to see the movie stars and the rest of the Hollywoodies streaming for the exits before the game ends. Funny---they weren't chanting "MVP ... MVP" at the end of this game, were they! . . . . .
Oh, don't think I'm a Celtics fan. After all, they're Boston, aren't they? But since it's the way things are these days in pro sports---big stars move to wherever they think they can win a championship ring---so I guess Kevin Garnett deserves one if any of them do. . . . . .
Great Cubs win today! Tied the game in the ninth and won it in extra innings. 'Twould have been a fun day to be at Wrigley Field. . . . . .
I drove up to Sioux Falls today to have lunch at Perkins next to I-90 with Holly and her girls as they came through from Rochester en route to Pierre. Olivia seems taller than she was when I saw her last two months ago. It took Audrey a half hour to get used to me and let me pick her up, but that's understandable. . . . . .
Dylan went to his dad's today, so we won't have him here for 10 days. And this will happen twice more this summer. For that reason I'll be glad when September arrives. . . . . .
The anti-black e-mails (some people think they're jokes) circulating these days are really pitiful and pathetic. . . . . .
If there's a father who reads this thing, well, Happy Father's Day to you!
Oh, don't think I'm a Celtics fan. After all, they're Boston, aren't they? But since it's the way things are these days in pro sports---big stars move to wherever they think they can win a championship ring---so I guess Kevin Garnett deserves one if any of them do. . . . . .
Great Cubs win today! Tied the game in the ninth and won it in extra innings. 'Twould have been a fun day to be at Wrigley Field. . . . . .
I drove up to Sioux Falls today to have lunch at Perkins next to I-90 with Holly and her girls as they came through from Rochester en route to Pierre. Olivia seems taller than she was when I saw her last two months ago. It took Audrey a half hour to get used to me and let me pick her up, but that's understandable. . . . . .
Dylan went to his dad's today, so we won't have him here for 10 days. And this will happen twice more this summer. For that reason I'll be glad when September arrives. . . . . .
The anti-black e-mails (some people think they're jokes) circulating these days are really pitiful and pathetic. . . . . .
If there's a father who reads this thing, well, Happy Father's Day to you!
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Appreciate Dad while he's still around
I must admit that my life has been so rich and full that any regrets I still have are few and far between, and rightly so. Four wonderful children. Three exquisite grandchildren who, all by themselves, are sufficient reason to look forward to each day. Seven great towns in which I've lived, each of them creating great memories, experiences and friends.
I do, however, have two or three regrets, and there's nothing at this late date that I can do about them. One of those regrets is that I didn't appreciate my father nearly enough until after his death.
Perhaps it's the approach of Father's Day that has me thinking about him again.
Come the first week of September, Maynard Acheson Knox will have been gone for 43 years. He was born in 1895 when South Dakota was only six years old and raised in a dirt-poor family (I think, in those days, every family was). The Knoxes lived off the land in the Little Bend country of far western Sully County on the wild Missouri River, just a few miles below the mouth of the Cheyenne on the opposite shore. He went to Europe with the U.S. Army during World War I. He met my mom after she and her parents, the McConnachies, came out from Illinois so my mother's dad could build the high school in Onida.
My dad was 43 when he and my mother were married, and he was 44 when I was born the following year, so it was to be expected that, once I got into my mid-20s and beyond, Dad would be reaching the age when any additional year of life is a gift.
After his cancer was diagnosed in 1962, he survived 3 1/2 years until Labor Day weekend of 1965. He made it to age 70, the age I will be as soon as next year. Dad lived long enough to know his first grandchild, my niece, but only as an infant. She was barely past six months old when he died. My own married life wouldn't begin for another 5 1/2 years, so Dad never knew my wife nor any of my kids or grandkids. He would have enjoyed them so much.
My dad was such a good and decent man and so highly respected in the community. I remember hearing that so often at the time of his funeral and afterward. And without a doubt, he was a rock-solid pillar of any group to which he belonged.
Though the Onida Presbyterian Church probably could have survived without him, it didn't seem so to me back when I was a teen-ager still living at home. He was an elder in the church, but it was the things he did for the church that he didn't have to do that left an indelible impression on me. If a door needed fixing, he did it. He saw to it that the lawn at the church was mowed long before our own grass was cut (I suppose that's only fair since he had two teen-age sons to mow!). The sidewalks at the church were shoveled and plowed before there was ever a path out to our garage or out to the street alongside our house. He saw to it that any problem that arose with the minister and his family and their house was solved.
He was a proud and devoted member of the American Legion. In his possessions we still have his Legionnaire's cap. I well remember him in the color guard at the cemetery or at Memorial Day programs.
The Masonic Lodge and the Eastern Star chapter, though I never understood just what they did or why they existed, were important to him. He served in every official capacity either organization had. If he missed a meeting of either one, there must have been a very good reason.
I don't know if the fact that his love of the outdoors didn't carry over to me, his older son, was a disappointment to him or not. I didn't ask, and he didn't say. He was an avid pheasant and deer hunter, and he was a state championship trapshooter.
One of my fondest memories is all of the trapshoots we attended all over the state. I wasn't a shooter, but I was one of the best trapshooting scorekeepers there ever was, and getting to post the scores on the clubhouse scoreboard after they came in from each trap was a treat.
Maynard Knox was the epitome of hard work. He had at least three jobs, each of which seemed full-time to me. Dumb kid that I was, I couldn't get it through my head that he worked so hard and so long for us---Mom, John and me.
First there was his mail route. The Onida post office, with all due respect to anybody who followed him, never had a mail carrier better or more devoted than my dad. On summer school vacation days and sometimes on Saturdays, I got to ride his route with him. Rural Route 2 went out of Onida to the west, then circled around to the north and northeast. The Ripleys, the Seamans, the Weischedels, the Brookings, the Lomheims, the Pierces, the Todds, the Westphals, the Hoovers---I can still see in my mind where their mailboxes were. In those days mail carriers had to reach across their front seats and put mail in boxes through the passenger side windows, so, in my mind at least, having me along was a help to my dad. I don't know if he thought that I was or not, but geography nut that I was, it surely was a kick to see where all people's mail came from before I placed it inside their boxes.
One of the jobs Dad had for many years in his afternoons after he arrived back in town from his mail route was as handyman for Bess and Agnes, two spinster companions who owned and operated a great deal of farmland and rental properties as well as owning the county's abstract business. They always had a long list of things for him to do. One of the perks of Dad working for Bess and Agnes was that they were fond of me. Occasionally they took me inside their house, the biggest house in Onida for sure, for treats. When older and more responsible, I got first pick at a summer job in their abstract office.
The other opportunity to spend quality time with Dad, though I never considered it as such at the time, was on his rural assignments with the county ASCS office. For many a summer, I was Dad's "partner" as we criss-crossed Sully County to get test samples of farmers' grain from out of their bins. We bagged them, hauled them back to town and saw to it that they were mailed to the state office. I recall how exhilarating it was to hear, when Dad got into town from his mail route, that we didn't have to go out for the ASCS that day. I wish I had a few of those days back.
The most vivid image of the day we buried my dad was sitting in the car at the cemetery, waiting for what seemed like an endless line of other cars coming from town to join us. As my mom watched those cars, inching their way along the gravel road toward the cemetery, she mused, "He meant a lot to a lot of people, didn't he."
Just the other day I was writing in this blog about some of the fun things I am enjoying doing with my almost-4-year-old grandson this year and next in Vermillion. Hours in the park on the playground equipment, running bases in the empty baseball park, walking the dog, watching big semis thunder by from the rest stop out on the interstate, and on and on. As I was writing, it became a nagging worry to me that I couldn't remember doing hardly any of those same things with my own kids.
Had I just forgotten such priceless moments? Is my memory not what it used to be? I surely should be able to remember clearly what would have taken place within the last 30 years!
Oh, I well remember their school activities, of course. They never went to a music contest or enjoyed a band trip when I wasn't along with the group. A treasured memory is the Christmas Eve services at church---it almost became tradition at the Methodist church for the Knox kids to sing with their dad accompanying them on the piano. There were the summer Broadway musicals we shared---"Music Man" and "Jesus Christ Superstar" and "Fiddler on the Roof" and others, usually with the kids on the stage and me in the pit orchestra. But did we ever play out in the yard? Did we ever take Buppy for walks? Did we ever take time to swing at Griffin Park or play catch?
As I sat here at the keyboard that day, trying to squeeze an experience or two out of my memory bank, I almost panicked as if there were anything I could do about it now with all four of the kids 28 or older!
I'm thinking there probably weren't all that many such occurrences, and I know why. I was always working, that's why. For 17 of the best years of my kids' lives, I was publisher, editor, newswriter, photographer, bookkeeper, advertising salesperson and No. 1 worrier for the weekly newspaper we owned 32 miles from where we lived. I was gone constantly, and it was not fun. It was genuine work, and I despised it. Thank God the kids had their mother.
And for all of the years the four kids were in high school, I was working at another full-time job as well, this one from early morning till early afternoon, the other one from early afternoon for as long as it took, and it usually took evenings, sometimes all night, and most weekend hours. Now that I look back, it all was quite ridiculous. But at the time it seemed necessary.
The fact that I'm getting to spend so much quality time with Dylan at this stage in my life is a blessing I don't take lightly. Kicking a soccer ball in the yard or watching the "Dumbo" CD for the umpteenth time or fixing his favorite Tuna Helper lunch (again!) are memories I hope Dylan remembers, years from now, even though he isn't yet 4 years old.
But while I'm still around to read and remember, there's something I want my kids to do between now and next February when I celebrate (is "observe" a better word?) my 70th birthday. I don't need a new tie or a new watch or a new shirt, but I'd like them to write down some memories (especially the happy ones) they have of their growing-up years, things that I apparently don't remember. There surely must be some! I wasn't working around the clock, was I? Put 'em in a book, tie a ribbon on the front, and that's the best birthday present I could imagine.
In the meantime, not only this weekend when it's Father's Day, but year-round, if you readers are fortunate enough to still have your dad, count your blessings and share your memories with him.
I do, however, have two or three regrets, and there's nothing at this late date that I can do about them. One of those regrets is that I didn't appreciate my father nearly enough until after his death.
Perhaps it's the approach of Father's Day that has me thinking about him again.
Come the first week of September, Maynard Acheson Knox will have been gone for 43 years. He was born in 1895 when South Dakota was only six years old and raised in a dirt-poor family (I think, in those days, every family was). The Knoxes lived off the land in the Little Bend country of far western Sully County on the wild Missouri River, just a few miles below the mouth of the Cheyenne on the opposite shore. He went to Europe with the U.S. Army during World War I. He met my mom after she and her parents, the McConnachies, came out from Illinois so my mother's dad could build the high school in Onida.
My dad was 43 when he and my mother were married, and he was 44 when I was born the following year, so it was to be expected that, once I got into my mid-20s and beyond, Dad would be reaching the age when any additional year of life is a gift.
After his cancer was diagnosed in 1962, he survived 3 1/2 years until Labor Day weekend of 1965. He made it to age 70, the age I will be as soon as next year. Dad lived long enough to know his first grandchild, my niece, but only as an infant. She was barely past six months old when he died. My own married life wouldn't begin for another 5 1/2 years, so Dad never knew my wife nor any of my kids or grandkids. He would have enjoyed them so much.
My dad was such a good and decent man and so highly respected in the community. I remember hearing that so often at the time of his funeral and afterward. And without a doubt, he was a rock-solid pillar of any group to which he belonged.
Though the Onida Presbyterian Church probably could have survived without him, it didn't seem so to me back when I was a teen-ager still living at home. He was an elder in the church, but it was the things he did for the church that he didn't have to do that left an indelible impression on me. If a door needed fixing, he did it. He saw to it that the lawn at the church was mowed long before our own grass was cut (I suppose that's only fair since he had two teen-age sons to mow!). The sidewalks at the church were shoveled and plowed before there was ever a path out to our garage or out to the street alongside our house. He saw to it that any problem that arose with the minister and his family and their house was solved.
He was a proud and devoted member of the American Legion. In his possessions we still have his Legionnaire's cap. I well remember him in the color guard at the cemetery or at Memorial Day programs.
The Masonic Lodge and the Eastern Star chapter, though I never understood just what they did or why they existed, were important to him. He served in every official capacity either organization had. If he missed a meeting of either one, there must have been a very good reason.
I don't know if the fact that his love of the outdoors didn't carry over to me, his older son, was a disappointment to him or not. I didn't ask, and he didn't say. He was an avid pheasant and deer hunter, and he was a state championship trapshooter.
One of my fondest memories is all of the trapshoots we attended all over the state. I wasn't a shooter, but I was one of the best trapshooting scorekeepers there ever was, and getting to post the scores on the clubhouse scoreboard after they came in from each trap was a treat.
Maynard Knox was the epitome of hard work. He had at least three jobs, each of which seemed full-time to me. Dumb kid that I was, I couldn't get it through my head that he worked so hard and so long for us---Mom, John and me.
First there was his mail route. The Onida post office, with all due respect to anybody who followed him, never had a mail carrier better or more devoted than my dad. On summer school vacation days and sometimes on Saturdays, I got to ride his route with him. Rural Route 2 went out of Onida to the west, then circled around to the north and northeast. The Ripleys, the Seamans, the Weischedels, the Brookings, the Lomheims, the Pierces, the Todds, the Westphals, the Hoovers---I can still see in my mind where their mailboxes were. In those days mail carriers had to reach across their front seats and put mail in boxes through the passenger side windows, so, in my mind at least, having me along was a help to my dad. I don't know if he thought that I was or not, but geography nut that I was, it surely was a kick to see where all people's mail came from before I placed it inside their boxes.
One of the jobs Dad had for many years in his afternoons after he arrived back in town from his mail route was as handyman for Bess and Agnes, two spinster companions who owned and operated a great deal of farmland and rental properties as well as owning the county's abstract business. They always had a long list of things for him to do. One of the perks of Dad working for Bess and Agnes was that they were fond of me. Occasionally they took me inside their house, the biggest house in Onida for sure, for treats. When older and more responsible, I got first pick at a summer job in their abstract office.
The other opportunity to spend quality time with Dad, though I never considered it as such at the time, was on his rural assignments with the county ASCS office. For many a summer, I was Dad's "partner" as we criss-crossed Sully County to get test samples of farmers' grain from out of their bins. We bagged them, hauled them back to town and saw to it that they were mailed to the state office. I recall how exhilarating it was to hear, when Dad got into town from his mail route, that we didn't have to go out for the ASCS that day. I wish I had a few of those days back.
The most vivid image of the day we buried my dad was sitting in the car at the cemetery, waiting for what seemed like an endless line of other cars coming from town to join us. As my mom watched those cars, inching their way along the gravel road toward the cemetery, she mused, "He meant a lot to a lot of people, didn't he."
Just the other day I was writing in this blog about some of the fun things I am enjoying doing with my almost-4-year-old grandson this year and next in Vermillion. Hours in the park on the playground equipment, running bases in the empty baseball park, walking the dog, watching big semis thunder by from the rest stop out on the interstate, and on and on. As I was writing, it became a nagging worry to me that I couldn't remember doing hardly any of those same things with my own kids.
Had I just forgotten such priceless moments? Is my memory not what it used to be? I surely should be able to remember clearly what would have taken place within the last 30 years!
Oh, I well remember their school activities, of course. They never went to a music contest or enjoyed a band trip when I wasn't along with the group. A treasured memory is the Christmas Eve services at church---it almost became tradition at the Methodist church for the Knox kids to sing with their dad accompanying them on the piano. There were the summer Broadway musicals we shared---"Music Man" and "Jesus Christ Superstar" and "Fiddler on the Roof" and others, usually with the kids on the stage and me in the pit orchestra. But did we ever play out in the yard? Did we ever take Buppy for walks? Did we ever take time to swing at Griffin Park or play catch?
As I sat here at the keyboard that day, trying to squeeze an experience or two out of my memory bank, I almost panicked as if there were anything I could do about it now with all four of the kids 28 or older!
I'm thinking there probably weren't all that many such occurrences, and I know why. I was always working, that's why. For 17 of the best years of my kids' lives, I was publisher, editor, newswriter, photographer, bookkeeper, advertising salesperson and No. 1 worrier for the weekly newspaper we owned 32 miles from where we lived. I was gone constantly, and it was not fun. It was genuine work, and I despised it. Thank God the kids had their mother.
And for all of the years the four kids were in high school, I was working at another full-time job as well, this one from early morning till early afternoon, the other one from early afternoon for as long as it took, and it usually took evenings, sometimes all night, and most weekend hours. Now that I look back, it all was quite ridiculous. But at the time it seemed necessary.
The fact that I'm getting to spend so much quality time with Dylan at this stage in my life is a blessing I don't take lightly. Kicking a soccer ball in the yard or watching the "Dumbo" CD for the umpteenth time or fixing his favorite Tuna Helper lunch (again!) are memories I hope Dylan remembers, years from now, even though he isn't yet 4 years old.
But while I'm still around to read and remember, there's something I want my kids to do between now and next February when I celebrate (is "observe" a better word?) my 70th birthday. I don't need a new tie or a new watch or a new shirt, but I'd like them to write down some memories (especially the happy ones) they have of their growing-up years, things that I apparently don't remember. There surely must be some! I wasn't working around the clock, was I? Put 'em in a book, tie a ribbon on the front, and that's the best birthday present I could imagine.
In the meantime, not only this weekend when it's Father's Day, but year-round, if you readers are fortunate enough to still have your dad, count your blessings and share your memories with him.
5 straight days of sunshine!
It's overcast this morning after thunderboomers came through overnight. We had five straight days of sunshine, blue skies and warmth, so that's more than we probably should have expected. The chance of rain increases as we go into the afternoon. The problem with that is that, once it leaves here, it heads to Minnesota, Iowa and Wisconsin, and the last thing those people need is rain. . . . . .
Over the weekend I was at four Post 1 Legion games here in Vermillion, doing my duty as a reporter for the Vermillion Plain Talk. We (see? I've become a Vermillionite!) won two and lost two. There is supposed to be a doubleheader this evening against Harrisburg, but the forecast doesn't sound too promising. . . . . .
I drove to Akron, Iowa (that's only about 25 miles away) on Sunday afternoon to cover the Vermillion Red Sox game (that's the amateur team on which I report for the Plain Talk). What a beautiful little smalltown ballpark they have over there! . . . . .
Grandson Dylan leaves tomorrow to spend 10 days with his dad in the Rapid City area. Oliver will spend the first couple of days wandering around the house looking for him. As for me, it's really lonesome around here without him, and my daily schedule suddenly has no regimentation when he's away because there's nowhere I have to be at a certain time! . . . . .
One thing on which I need to get to work is a performance (yes, a performance!) on piano and organ I have to do out at Dalesburg Lutheran Church on Friday afternoon, June 20. They have a huge shindig called Sommarfest out there, and I am one of the entertainers. I agreed to that in a very weak moment obviously. . . . . .
The radio news reporter just said gas is likely to be at $4 per gallon through next year. It just costs too much to go anywhere! I've already skipped two weddings in the past two months that I really wanted to attend, and I even need to schedule trips to see the kids very carefully. Somehow or other I need to get to Rapid City and Custer once this summer to see Jason and Allison as well as Custer friends; I haven't been out there since moving away in May 2007. And also to Rochester and Minneapolis to see Holly and family and Ryan. . . . . .
Have a good day!
Over the weekend I was at four Post 1 Legion games here in Vermillion, doing my duty as a reporter for the Vermillion Plain Talk. We (see? I've become a Vermillionite!) won two and lost two. There is supposed to be a doubleheader this evening against Harrisburg, but the forecast doesn't sound too promising. . . . . .
I drove to Akron, Iowa (that's only about 25 miles away) on Sunday afternoon to cover the Vermillion Red Sox game (that's the amateur team on which I report for the Plain Talk). What a beautiful little smalltown ballpark they have over there! . . . . .
Grandson Dylan leaves tomorrow to spend 10 days with his dad in the Rapid City area. Oliver will spend the first couple of days wandering around the house looking for him. As for me, it's really lonesome around here without him, and my daily schedule suddenly has no regimentation when he's away because there's nowhere I have to be at a certain time! . . . . .
One thing on which I need to get to work is a performance (yes, a performance!) on piano and organ I have to do out at Dalesburg Lutheran Church on Friday afternoon, June 20. They have a huge shindig called Sommarfest out there, and I am one of the entertainers. I agreed to that in a very weak moment obviously. . . . . .
The radio news reporter just said gas is likely to be at $4 per gallon through next year. It just costs too much to go anywhere! I've already skipped two weddings in the past two months that I really wanted to attend, and I even need to schedule trips to see the kids very carefully. Somehow or other I need to get to Rapid City and Custer once this summer to see Jason and Allison as well as Custer friends; I haven't been out there since moving away in May 2007. And also to Rochester and Minneapolis to see Holly and family and Ryan. . . . . .
Have a good day!
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Read if you're interested
If you want to read a well-written article by a newsman who was there about Sen. Obama's speech in St. Paul last night, here is the address:
http://www.minnpost.com/stories/2008/06/04/2106/evolution_of_a_candidate
http://www.minnpost.com/stories/2008/06/04/2106/evolution_of_a_candidate
Politics is interesting again
Maybe it was the six-week gap between a primary election in March (I forget now where it was!) and the one in Pennsylvania in late April. It had been such a rush, the weekly primaries almost every Tuesday. Then we had to sit and wait for Obama and Clinton to continue campaigning with no actual voting until Pennsylvania. I became rather bored with it all. Now it's getting interesting again. . . . . .
Will Sen. Clinton be asked by Sen. Obama to be his runningmate? Should he ask her? Intriguing question. Are we tired of the Clintons? Or, judging from her rather powerful speech supporting Israel just this morning, would she be a powerful force and attract millions of additional voters to the Obama cause this fall? I guess somebody smarter than I will make that decision. . . . . .
Those were three very interesting speeches Tuesday night---first McCain in Louisiana, then Clinton in New York, then Obama in St. Paul. I ask you, my friends, was there ever a worse speech on national television than McCain's was last night? Yes, my friends, every one of his speeches and public presentations from now till Nov. 4 is as bad as that one, he might not even carry South Dakota! (No, my friends, we know better than that---the Republican will carry South Dakota, no matter what.) Even Limbaugh, Hannity, O'Reilly, Ingraham and the other far-righties must have shuddered as they watched McCain last night. . . . . .
Is it a sign of weakness if Sen. Obama "caves in" to Hillary Clinton's overtures about the vice presidential nomination? Is it a sign of weakness if he gives in to McCain's plan for 10 town hall meetings between now and the end of August with him and Obama side by side answering questions? McCain can't possibly match Obama when it comes to public speaking, not even close, but would he gain points on the same stage? . . . . .
Wasn't it McCain who said, just the other day, that he doesn't see the need for another round of debates "like the 42 we had" (in the primary season), but now he suggests 10 town hall meetings in a span of 10 weeks. Wouldn't that be the same kind of grind, both for the public and for the two candidates? We'll see what they decide and how it works. It would make for great television, however. . . . . .
Will Sen. Clinton be asked by Sen. Obama to be his runningmate? Should he ask her? Intriguing question. Are we tired of the Clintons? Or, judging from her rather powerful speech supporting Israel just this morning, would she be a powerful force and attract millions of additional voters to the Obama cause this fall? I guess somebody smarter than I will make that decision. . . . . .
Those were three very interesting speeches Tuesday night---first McCain in Louisiana, then Clinton in New York, then Obama in St. Paul. I ask you, my friends, was there ever a worse speech on national television than McCain's was last night? Yes, my friends, every one of his speeches and public presentations from now till Nov. 4 is as bad as that one, he might not even carry South Dakota! (No, my friends, we know better than that---the Republican will carry South Dakota, no matter what.) Even Limbaugh, Hannity, O'Reilly, Ingraham and the other far-righties must have shuddered as they watched McCain last night. . . . . .
Is it a sign of weakness if Sen. Obama "caves in" to Hillary Clinton's overtures about the vice presidential nomination? Is it a sign of weakness if he gives in to McCain's plan for 10 town hall meetings between now and the end of August with him and Obama side by side answering questions? McCain can't possibly match Obama when it comes to public speaking, not even close, but would he gain points on the same stage? . . . . .
Wasn't it McCain who said, just the other day, that he doesn't see the need for another round of debates "like the 42 we had" (in the primary season), but now he suggests 10 town hall meetings in a span of 10 weeks. Wouldn't that be the same kind of grind, both for the public and for the two candidates? We'll see what they decide and how it works. It would make for great television, however. . . . . .
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Oh yeah, about the cookies
So why did I mention peanut butter cookies just below? Because I'm baking a batch right now in advance of Dylan's getting home from the daycare center in an hour or so.
Peanut butter cookies on Election Day
A young woman just came to the front door. "Are you Tom or Steve?" she asked. Assured I am neither, she shook her head and said, "Hmm, these lists are so outdated." Oh, really? Whatever candidate she was pushing didn't matter to me since I voted this morning at 8:30. . . . . .
Too bad neither Obama nor Clinton is in South Dakota tonight. No network live cut-ins, "Live from Sioux Falls, South Dakota." But there should be a couple of interesting speeches tonight, considering how the networks have been talking for the past six hours about whether Hillary will concede or not and considering that Sen. Obama will probably have more than 20,000 in the Xcel Energy Center tonight as he notes the nomination has been clinched. . . . . .
The storms that pounded Pierre and that part of the state during the evening apparently reached our little corner of the state overnight. The radio this morning said we had more than an inch of rain (again!) in Vermillion, but the driveway was already dry when I took Oliver out for the first time this morning by about 6:30. There certainly is no need to water the lawn these days; Mother Nature is doing it on a regular basis all by herself. . . . . .
Too bad neither Obama nor Clinton is in South Dakota tonight. No network live cut-ins, "Live from Sioux Falls, South Dakota." But there should be a couple of interesting speeches tonight, considering how the networks have been talking for the past six hours about whether Hillary will concede or not and considering that Sen. Obama will probably have more than 20,000 in the Xcel Energy Center tonight as he notes the nomination has been clinched. . . . . .
The storms that pounded Pierre and that part of the state during the evening apparently reached our little corner of the state overnight. The radio this morning said we had more than an inch of rain (again!) in Vermillion, but the driveway was already dry when I took Oliver out for the first time this morning by about 6:30. There certainly is no need to water the lawn these days; Mother Nature is doing it on a regular basis all by herself. . . . . .
Sunday, June 1, 2008
It was May, not June
Now that I think about it, it was "It's May, it's May, the lusty month of May" from "Camelot" that Jay always sang at the Latin banquet. Right idea, wrong month.
June is bustin' out all over
Isn't "June is busting out all over" the song that Jay Mickelson always sang at the Latin banquet at Riggs High School in Pierre? I think so, but I can't remember exactly why that is the song he sang. . . . . .
President Clinton's appearance in front of Old Main at USD Friday night was delayed for a half-hour or so by a thunderstorm that blew through. But it was nice later. I could hear his voice over the P.A. system from our front door, so Oliver the dog and I took a hike up to the campus and got close enough to see him from the distance. Maybe it's his white hair, but his face always has such a red, ruddy complexion hue to it. Even from a hundred yards or more away! . . . . .
On Saturday I spent seven straight hours at the Vermillion ballpark on the most beautiful day of the year. Sunshine but enough of a breeze to make it not only bearable but very pleasant indeed. Perfect, in fact. I have to write a story about each of those games, also an interview with one of our high school players, also a preview of next weekend's Legion tournament, so I will have a lot of "stuff" in the Plain Talk sports section this coming Friday. . . . . .
Hot enough today so that Dylan got to go to the swimming pool a block from the house with his mom. She said he dived off the diving board at least eight times, and together they rode down the long, curvy slide at the other end of the pool. . . . . .
Heather is playing softball, so she and Dylan are heading over to Yankton for her first game tonight. I'm staying home to cover an amateur game over at the ballpark here. . . . . .
One can tell it's the first of June. All over Vermillion, it seemed, people were emptying out houses and apartments and/or moving into them. Apparently all the rental leases expire June 1. . . . . .
This will be a crazy week. Dylan goes to Bible School at the church in the mornings this week, then to the daycare center in the afternoons. A lot of delivering and picking up this week! And finally the last primary elections will take place, including ours!
President Clinton's appearance in front of Old Main at USD Friday night was delayed for a half-hour or so by a thunderstorm that blew through. But it was nice later. I could hear his voice over the P.A. system from our front door, so Oliver the dog and I took a hike up to the campus and got close enough to see him from the distance. Maybe it's his white hair, but his face always has such a red, ruddy complexion hue to it. Even from a hundred yards or more away! . . . . .
On Saturday I spent seven straight hours at the Vermillion ballpark on the most beautiful day of the year. Sunshine but enough of a breeze to make it not only bearable but very pleasant indeed. Perfect, in fact. I have to write a story about each of those games, also an interview with one of our high school players, also a preview of next weekend's Legion tournament, so I will have a lot of "stuff" in the Plain Talk sports section this coming Friday. . . . . .
Hot enough today so that Dylan got to go to the swimming pool a block from the house with his mom. She said he dived off the diving board at least eight times, and together they rode down the long, curvy slide at the other end of the pool. . . . . .
Heather is playing softball, so she and Dylan are heading over to Yankton for her first game tonight. I'm staying home to cover an amateur game over at the ballpark here. . . . . .
One can tell it's the first of June. All over Vermillion, it seemed, people were emptying out houses and apartments and/or moving into them. Apparently all the rental leases expire June 1. . . . . .
This will be a crazy week. Dylan goes to Bible School at the church in the mornings this week, then to the daycare center in the afternoons. A lot of delivering and picking up this week! And finally the last primary elections will take place, including ours!
Friday, May 30, 2008
It's summer . . . for today anyway
The tornado siren in Vermillion wailed last night, but we survived the accurately predicted wave of severe storms that formed in Nebraska and headed for Iowa. (For all people complain about South Dakota's weather, be aware that it all forms either in Colorado and Nebraska---the severe weather season stuff---or in North Dakota and Montana---the howling winter-weather stuff. It's not our fault we're always in its path. We had candles and flashlights ready because the lights flickered a couple of times, no doubt at the same instant the radio station in Yankton momentarily lost power and the same instant powerlines went down up in Centerville. But by 9:00 it was still outside though still humid and really warm for that hour. We got through the winter without a severe blizzard here though the winter seemed eternal; perhaps we'll get through the season of unruly weather with just the usual bells and whistles from the TV forecasters. . . . . .
The sky is blue with puffy clouds, and the temperature is climbing, surely to 80 or thereabouts. It feels like a summer day though not an August summer day. We're due for another tomorrow. It's about time. We had a day the other day when, for the first time, our very cool basement seemed comfortable. . . . . .
President Clinton brings his presidential campaign to our town of Vermillion tonight, and he has a beautiful night to speak at a rather picturesque photoworthy location---in front of Old Main on the USD campus. We'll probably walk up there with the dog and remain at a respectable distance just to see what all the commotion is about. Oh wait, President Clinton is not running for President, is he. But if his wife turns out to be a candidate this fall, one question I want answered before I vote for her is what will become of him. He not in the least seems like the type who will remain behind-the-scenes in a Hillary Clinton White House. Perhaps a former President that close at hand is an advantage for a new President. There just is something that makes me uneasy about the fact that, if the Clintons win the presidency for four more years, and maybe eight, it will be (by the end of 2012) a stretch of 24 years when the presidency of the United States of America will have been in the hands of a grand total of two families---Bush and Clinton. I'm not so sure enough isn't enough. . . . . .
On Fridays grandson Dylan stays home with me rather than going to the university's daycare center where he spends Mondays through Thursdays with his 3- and 4-year-old peers in the Turtle Room. We have had a good day. Dylan was up with the roosters long before his mother hit the road at 6:45 a.m. to make her Sioux Falls job by 8 o'clock. He watched his Public Television kids' shows, had some breakfast, and all. Once we got him dressed, we went downtown to the public library where he delved into games and books in the children's section. After picking out five new books for him to check out, we did the Hy-Vee grocery shopping thing. Then we rode bikes (actually he did; I hung close by to keep him away from the street). Then we played catch. By that time it was 1:00. I was about to fix him some lunch when, on his own accord, he turned off the TV, curled up on the living room couch, pulled a blanket over himself and announced he needed to get some sleep. Fine with me! He's still sleeping now at 3:50.
We have had some very fun days, he and I. A couple of weeks ago we spent several hours over at Prentis Park, not only using the swings, slides, merry-go-round and all but also taking advantage of the baseball field. Nobody was in sight, so Dylan, showing boundless energy and enthusiasm, ran the bases. Back and forth he went, from home to first, from first to second, from second to third, from third to home, sliding into each base in a cloud of dust. Then he stood on home plate, waiting for me to yell "Go!" so he could take off again for first base. I wish I had had a video recorder with me to preserve that scene. We managed to dirty his clothes quite substantially, but considering how much fun he was having, I considered it a washing machine job well-earned. . . . . .
Since the two baseball teams I am now covering for the Vermillion Plain Talk didn't have games over the Memorial Day weekend, I had only one story in this week's paper---a preview of tomorrow's Baseball Day. But there will be four games tomorrow, another Sunday night, and I will have at least three stories, maybe four, to write for next week's paper. It's good to be back in the newspaper business for real and especially nice to be able to do the writing here at home without ever having to show up at an office and maintain office hours! . . . . .
The sky is blue with puffy clouds, and the temperature is climbing, surely to 80 or thereabouts. It feels like a summer day though not an August summer day. We're due for another tomorrow. It's about time. We had a day the other day when, for the first time, our very cool basement seemed comfortable. . . . . .
President Clinton brings his presidential campaign to our town of Vermillion tonight, and he has a beautiful night to speak at a rather picturesque photoworthy location---in front of Old Main on the USD campus. We'll probably walk up there with the dog and remain at a respectable distance just to see what all the commotion is about. Oh wait, President Clinton is not running for President, is he. But if his wife turns out to be a candidate this fall, one question I want answered before I vote for her is what will become of him. He not in the least seems like the type who will remain behind-the-scenes in a Hillary Clinton White House. Perhaps a former President that close at hand is an advantage for a new President. There just is something that makes me uneasy about the fact that, if the Clintons win the presidency for four more years, and maybe eight, it will be (by the end of 2012) a stretch of 24 years when the presidency of the United States of America will have been in the hands of a grand total of two families---Bush and Clinton. I'm not so sure enough isn't enough. . . . . .
On Fridays grandson Dylan stays home with me rather than going to the university's daycare center where he spends Mondays through Thursdays with his 3- and 4-year-old peers in the Turtle Room. We have had a good day. Dylan was up with the roosters long before his mother hit the road at 6:45 a.m. to make her Sioux Falls job by 8 o'clock. He watched his Public Television kids' shows, had some breakfast, and all. Once we got him dressed, we went downtown to the public library where he delved into games and books in the children's section. After picking out five new books for him to check out, we did the Hy-Vee grocery shopping thing. Then we rode bikes (actually he did; I hung close by to keep him away from the street). Then we played catch. By that time it was 1:00. I was about to fix him some lunch when, on his own accord, he turned off the TV, curled up on the living room couch, pulled a blanket over himself and announced he needed to get some sleep. Fine with me! He's still sleeping now at 3:50.
We have had some very fun days, he and I. A couple of weeks ago we spent several hours over at Prentis Park, not only using the swings, slides, merry-go-round and all but also taking advantage of the baseball field. Nobody was in sight, so Dylan, showing boundless energy and enthusiasm, ran the bases. Back and forth he went, from home to first, from first to second, from second to third, from third to home, sliding into each base in a cloud of dust. Then he stood on home plate, waiting for me to yell "Go!" so he could take off again for first base. I wish I had had a video recorder with me to preserve that scene. We managed to dirty his clothes quite substantially, but considering how much fun he was having, I considered it a washing machine job well-earned. . . . . .
Since the two baseball teams I am now covering for the Vermillion Plain Talk didn't have games over the Memorial Day weekend, I had only one story in this week's paper---a preview of tomorrow's Baseball Day. But there will be four games tomorrow, another Sunday night, and I will have at least three stories, maybe four, to write for next week's paper. It's good to be back in the newspaper business for real and especially nice to be able to do the writing here at home without ever having to show up at an office and maintain office hours! . . . . .
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Seniors, enjoy each other while you can
For you who are desperate for something---anything!---to read, here is my column appearing in today's Custer Chronicle:
How time flies! The 53 young men and women who will graduate from Custer High School on Saturday afternoon were only a semester into their high school careers when I showed up at the Chronicle in January 2005. When I left last April, they were within a month of having only one year of high school left.
Now it's down to three days until the strains of "Pomp and Circumstance" signal their entrance into the armory and their exit into the real world.
The other day, as my best friend through grade school, high school and college years underwent sudden double bypass surgery at a hospital in Minnesota, I daydreamed over my third, fourth and fifth cups of morning coffee about my own high school class, graduation itself, all that has befallen us in the 52 years since, and our fragile mortality.
There were 31 of us, the largest class ever to graduate from Onida High School up to that time. Only five have passed away, a rather surprising fact in itself since we all are now in the 69-72 age range. And of the 27 who were alive at the time of our 50-year reunion in 2006, 19 were able to attend. I remarked that night that that, too, is a rather amazing statistic. I declared it to be proof that we '56ers care more about each other now than we did then!
I recall little about my own graduation ceremony except that the fire siren just across the alley from the city auditorium went off during my salutatory speech and the fact that somebody decided to bring in more benches from downstairs after the ceremony started. That, too, occurred during my speech. Just as well. In those days we had to memorize canned orations from the bottom drawer of Supt. Stockdale's desk, and I was scared to death. Preparing for that speech ruined my final month of high school.
All I can remember of college graduation in 1960 is that, due to alphabetical order, "Kirk" and "Knox" came next to each other, and Jim, the guy with whom I roomed for two years, and I got to march out of the Huron College gym together.
Much more memorable than my own graduations are those of my four kids, all of whom graduated from Riggs High School in Pierre. There commencement takes place outdoors on the lush green turf of Hollister Field. The green gowns and the blue sky and the Capitol dome looming over the field and the sight of the senior class parading down the hill from the middle school gym to commencement are all vivid images in my mind.
Of course an outdoor graduation depends for its very existence on the weather. During one stretch in the '90s we went four straight years with an indoor graduation in the Riggs gym, which cuts the attendance at least in half. My girls and their 1997 classmates were part of one class forced to graduate in the hot, steamy gym. But occasionally a Pierre senior class is blessed with a perfect sunny day with no wind. Not often, but occasionally!
The two high school graduations which are still most alive in my memory are the two for which I was invited to be the commencement speaker at Sully Buttes (that's the reorganized school of which Onida became part). A year after leaving teaching in 1978, the Sully Buttes Class of 1979 invited me back as their speaker. Later in 1991, while I was the local newspaper publisher in Onida, that year's class invited me, too.
The latter group of seniors, through their class president, told me they wanted it to be a memorable graduation speech.
"Then why are you asking me!" I exclaimed to her, but since it was March and graduation was still two months away, I agreed to accept her invitation. Then I spent April and May worrying about it.
Not to fear. I think we pulled it off despite the fact I had to follow a pair of outstanding student speakers, Kory Davis and Kelly Mikkelsen.
After imparting 20 minutes or so of words of wisdom, both my own and those of people I quoted, I pointed out to the Class of 1991 that the next few minutes would be the last time they all would ever be together in the same place again. I knew that to be true because there were a couple of my own classmates that I never saw again after graduation in 1956.
If any of you 2008 CHS grads are reading this and following my train of thought, you should know that Saturday afternoon will be the last time you all are together. And there are some of your classmates whose faces you will never ever see again.
So, back then in May 1991, as I stood at the podium in the SBHS gym in Onida, I instructed the 60-some graduates to play along with me, and I advised the crowd of a thousand people that I no longer was talking to them. It was just between the graduates and me.
At my direction the two front rows of seniors on each side of the center aisle turned around and faced the second row. Then I asked them to hold hands. The kids on the ends of the rows reached across to their counterparts so that the Class of 1991 was one continuous circle, held together as one by the adrenalin cursing through their bodies and, in some cases, the tears as they looked into each other's eyes.
My instructions from the podium were these: "As I slowly recite the name of each and every graduate individually, I ask you to think for 10 seconds or so solely about that person---what he or she contributed to the class, what he or she meant to you, what you will remember about that classmate."
It took nearly 10 minutes to get through the list, but the kids stood there, part of one circle of classmates never to share a moment together again. The gym of more than a thousand was utterly silent the whole time except for a sniffle or two and the sound of a nose being blown. Even the bawling infants and the preschoolers tearing around at the back of the gym kept quiet. Finally we were finished. The seniors broke from their circle, resumed face-forward position and prepared to receive their diplomas.
My point then is echoed by the words of country singer Tim McGraw: "We all take different paths in life, but no matter where we go, we take a little of each other everywhere."
So, to the CHS seniors of '08, go your own way, do your own thing, but this weekend, look around you and soak in all about those with whom you have experienced high school and growing-up years in Custer. There are some among them whom you will never see again.
Best wishes to each of this year's graduates! As Dr. Seuss wrote, "You have brains in your head, you have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You're on your own and you know what you know, and you are the one who'll decide where to go."
-o-o-o-o-o-
It's 'with the crowd,' not 'to': This is your English language cop, reporting for duty. No, I have given up ranting about incorrect personal pronouns. It's not just the sportscasters but also the news reporters. This week I heard one of them talking about Sen. Obama, and the reporter used the phrase "to he and his wife." Good grief! From what college did you graduate!
My hang-up this month is the irritating people the Chicago Cubs organization invites to perform (I can't call it "singing") "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" during the seventh-inning stretch. They get the first line correct---how can you screw up "Take me out to the ballgame"? But then, more often than not, their next line is "Take me out to the crowd."
You idiots! It's "Take me out WITH the crowd." What sense does "Take me out to the crowd" make?
Speaking of the peanuts and Cracker Jacks that come later in that song, how about these delicacies coming soon to a ballpark near you! One of the items already planned for the menus at the concession stands in the new Minnesota Twins ballpark, which opens in 2010, is a walleye taco. Minnesota is big on fishing, of course, with a few walleye floating around in each of that state's 10,000 lakes, but a taco containing fish meat? I think I'll stick to a ballpark hot dog.
You don't have to wait till 2010 to get the newest taste treat at the Sioux Falls Canaries' minor-league games. On the concession stand menu there this season is something that doesn't exactly make my taste buds water. They're called "fowl balls" (canary? bird? fowl? You get it?). What they are really is turkey testicles. If that thought doesn't make you put down this newspaper and run to the kitchen for a snack, I don't know what will.
How time flies! The 53 young men and women who will graduate from Custer High School on Saturday afternoon were only a semester into their high school careers when I showed up at the Chronicle in January 2005. When I left last April, they were within a month of having only one year of high school left.
Now it's down to three days until the strains of "Pomp and Circumstance" signal their entrance into the armory and their exit into the real world.
The other day, as my best friend through grade school, high school and college years underwent sudden double bypass surgery at a hospital in Minnesota, I daydreamed over my third, fourth and fifth cups of morning coffee about my own high school class, graduation itself, all that has befallen us in the 52 years since, and our fragile mortality.
There were 31 of us, the largest class ever to graduate from Onida High School up to that time. Only five have passed away, a rather surprising fact in itself since we all are now in the 69-72 age range. And of the 27 who were alive at the time of our 50-year reunion in 2006, 19 were able to attend. I remarked that night that that, too, is a rather amazing statistic. I declared it to be proof that we '56ers care more about each other now than we did then!
I recall little about my own graduation ceremony except that the fire siren just across the alley from the city auditorium went off during my salutatory speech and the fact that somebody decided to bring in more benches from downstairs after the ceremony started. That, too, occurred during my speech. Just as well. In those days we had to memorize canned orations from the bottom drawer of Supt. Stockdale's desk, and I was scared to death. Preparing for that speech ruined my final month of high school.
All I can remember of college graduation in 1960 is that, due to alphabetical order, "Kirk" and "Knox" came next to each other, and Jim, the guy with whom I roomed for two years, and I got to march out of the Huron College gym together.
Much more memorable than my own graduations are those of my four kids, all of whom graduated from Riggs High School in Pierre. There commencement takes place outdoors on the lush green turf of Hollister Field. The green gowns and the blue sky and the Capitol dome looming over the field and the sight of the senior class parading down the hill from the middle school gym to commencement are all vivid images in my mind.
Of course an outdoor graduation depends for its very existence on the weather. During one stretch in the '90s we went four straight years with an indoor graduation in the Riggs gym, which cuts the attendance at least in half. My girls and their 1997 classmates were part of one class forced to graduate in the hot, steamy gym. But occasionally a Pierre senior class is blessed with a perfect sunny day with no wind. Not often, but occasionally!
The two high school graduations which are still most alive in my memory are the two for which I was invited to be the commencement speaker at Sully Buttes (that's the reorganized school of which Onida became part). A year after leaving teaching in 1978, the Sully Buttes Class of 1979 invited me back as their speaker. Later in 1991, while I was the local newspaper publisher in Onida, that year's class invited me, too.
The latter group of seniors, through their class president, told me they wanted it to be a memorable graduation speech.
"Then why are you asking me!" I exclaimed to her, but since it was March and graduation was still two months away, I agreed to accept her invitation. Then I spent April and May worrying about it.
Not to fear. I think we pulled it off despite the fact I had to follow a pair of outstanding student speakers, Kory Davis and Kelly Mikkelsen.
After imparting 20 minutes or so of words of wisdom, both my own and those of people I quoted, I pointed out to the Class of 1991 that the next few minutes would be the last time they all would ever be together in the same place again. I knew that to be true because there were a couple of my own classmates that I never saw again after graduation in 1956.
If any of you 2008 CHS grads are reading this and following my train of thought, you should know that Saturday afternoon will be the last time you all are together. And there are some of your classmates whose faces you will never ever see again.
So, back then in May 1991, as I stood at the podium in the SBHS gym in Onida, I instructed the 60-some graduates to play along with me, and I advised the crowd of a thousand people that I no longer was talking to them. It was just between the graduates and me.
At my direction the two front rows of seniors on each side of the center aisle turned around and faced the second row. Then I asked them to hold hands. The kids on the ends of the rows reached across to their counterparts so that the Class of 1991 was one continuous circle, held together as one by the adrenalin cursing through their bodies and, in some cases, the tears as they looked into each other's eyes.
My instructions from the podium were these: "As I slowly recite the name of each and every graduate individually, I ask you to think for 10 seconds or so solely about that person---what he or she contributed to the class, what he or she meant to you, what you will remember about that classmate."
It took nearly 10 minutes to get through the list, but the kids stood there, part of one circle of classmates never to share a moment together again. The gym of more than a thousand was utterly silent the whole time except for a sniffle or two and the sound of a nose being blown. Even the bawling infants and the preschoolers tearing around at the back of the gym kept quiet. Finally we were finished. The seniors broke from their circle, resumed face-forward position and prepared to receive their diplomas.
My point then is echoed by the words of country singer Tim McGraw: "We all take different paths in life, but no matter where we go, we take a little of each other everywhere."
So, to the CHS seniors of '08, go your own way, do your own thing, but this weekend, look around you and soak in all about those with whom you have experienced high school and growing-up years in Custer. There are some among them whom you will never see again.
Best wishes to each of this year's graduates! As Dr. Seuss wrote, "You have brains in your head, you have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You're on your own and you know what you know, and you are the one who'll decide where to go."
-o-o-o-o-o-
It's 'with the crowd,' not 'to': This is your English language cop, reporting for duty. No, I have given up ranting about incorrect personal pronouns. It's not just the sportscasters but also the news reporters. This week I heard one of them talking about Sen. Obama, and the reporter used the phrase "to he and his wife." Good grief! From what college did you graduate!
My hang-up this month is the irritating people the Chicago Cubs organization invites to perform (I can't call it "singing") "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" during the seventh-inning stretch. They get the first line correct---how can you screw up "Take me out to the ballgame"? But then, more often than not, their next line is "Take me out to the crowd."
You idiots! It's "Take me out WITH the crowd." What sense does "Take me out to the crowd" make?
Speaking of the peanuts and Cracker Jacks that come later in that song, how about these delicacies coming soon to a ballpark near you! One of the items already planned for the menus at the concession stands in the new Minnesota Twins ballpark, which opens in 2010, is a walleye taco. Minnesota is big on fishing, of course, with a few walleye floating around in each of that state's 10,000 lakes, but a taco containing fish meat? I think I'll stick to a ballpark hot dog.
You don't have to wait till 2010 to get the newest taste treat at the Sioux Falls Canaries' minor-league games. On the concession stand menu there this season is something that doesn't exactly make my taste buds water. They're called "fowl balls" (canary? bird? fowl? You get it?). What they are really is turkey testicles. If that thought doesn't make you put down this newspaper and run to the kitchen for a snack, I don't know what will.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Catch-up time
For the thousands out there who care, it's time to catch up on what's been going on since the last post on April 16. . . . . .
I survived the pneumonia. The little $15 pills worked their magic by the time the 10th and last pill went down my throat. The doctor checked again to be sure all the pneumonia was gone, and almost all of it was. I have to re-check on June 4. . . . . .
The eternal winter finally has come to an end. We missed last Friday's May blizzard here in the southeast corner of the state although we had a steady rain all day that day. This week it's up to 80 degrees, and I finally put the screens on the windows Sunday. Time to resume sleeping down in the basement where, come the dog days of August, it will be a relief to be down there where it's cool year-round. . . . . .
We had a wonderful but brief weekend in Rochester for granddaughter Olivia's sixth birthday on April 19. Uncle Ryan came down from Minneapolis, too, and his 32nd birthday was the next day. The following week was Dylan's week to be with his dad in Rapid City, but I went out to Chamberlain to pick him up on April 28, and it has been great to have him back. . . . . .
Heather has two finals down, two to go, and she'll be done with Year #2 of law school by Friday. She starts a summer job at a law firm in Sioux Falls on May 19. . . . . .
I'm still writing my column once monthly for the paper in Custer, my old stomping grounds. This Friday is my next deadline. My buddy out there, Jason Ferguson, asked this morning if I was inspired to write it this week. I said, "No, but that never stopped me before." I may have some news about going back to work right here in Vermintown in a couple of days, so stay tuned if you care. . . . . .
We just had a five-minute hailstorm pass through. Torrents of rain but hardly any wind, and now the sun is about to break through again. 'Tis the season! . . . . .
I couldn't get up to Grand Forks last Saturday for the wedding of Devin "Devo" Weingart (Riggs '02). I had promised him all along that I would be there, and I feel really bad and guilty that I didn't go. I'd like to get to Pierre for the final concerts before retirement for vocal director Will Hanson and band director Larry Johnson on Monday and Tuesday. Their programs meant so much to all four of my kids during their Riggs High days. I should also get to Pierre the following Saturday for the Matt Picchietti/Blair Simon wedding, and I'd like to be in Custer that same day for graduation. It was a year ago this week that I was moving back and forth across the state in car and U-Haul truck, and I haven't been back to Rapid City or Custer since. . . . . .
Almost time to pick up Dylan at USD daycare. Heather has a major final exam in the morning, so she is studying at the law school library this afternoon. . . . . .
Thanks for reading! I'll attempt to contribute something to this blog on a more regular basis from now on, including my Custer column whenever I get it done this week.
I survived the pneumonia. The little $15 pills worked their magic by the time the 10th and last pill went down my throat. The doctor checked again to be sure all the pneumonia was gone, and almost all of it was. I have to re-check on June 4. . . . . .
The eternal winter finally has come to an end. We missed last Friday's May blizzard here in the southeast corner of the state although we had a steady rain all day that day. This week it's up to 80 degrees, and I finally put the screens on the windows Sunday. Time to resume sleeping down in the basement where, come the dog days of August, it will be a relief to be down there where it's cool year-round. . . . . .
We had a wonderful but brief weekend in Rochester for granddaughter Olivia's sixth birthday on April 19. Uncle Ryan came down from Minneapolis, too, and his 32nd birthday was the next day. The following week was Dylan's week to be with his dad in Rapid City, but I went out to Chamberlain to pick him up on April 28, and it has been great to have him back. . . . . .
Heather has two finals down, two to go, and she'll be done with Year #2 of law school by Friday. She starts a summer job at a law firm in Sioux Falls on May 19. . . . . .
I'm still writing my column once monthly for the paper in Custer, my old stomping grounds. This Friday is my next deadline. My buddy out there, Jason Ferguson, asked this morning if I was inspired to write it this week. I said, "No, but that never stopped me before." I may have some news about going back to work right here in Vermintown in a couple of days, so stay tuned if you care. . . . . .
We just had a five-minute hailstorm pass through. Torrents of rain but hardly any wind, and now the sun is about to break through again. 'Tis the season! . . . . .
I couldn't get up to Grand Forks last Saturday for the wedding of Devin "Devo" Weingart (Riggs '02). I had promised him all along that I would be there, and I feel really bad and guilty that I didn't go. I'd like to get to Pierre for the final concerts before retirement for vocal director Will Hanson and band director Larry Johnson on Monday and Tuesday. Their programs meant so much to all four of my kids during their Riggs High days. I should also get to Pierre the following Saturday for the Matt Picchietti/Blair Simon wedding, and I'd like to be in Custer that same day for graduation. It was a year ago this week that I was moving back and forth across the state in car and U-Haul truck, and I haven't been back to Rapid City or Custer since. . . . . .
Almost time to pick up Dylan at USD daycare. Heather has a major final exam in the morning, so she is studying at the law school library this afternoon. . . . . .
Thanks for reading! I'll attempt to contribute something to this blog on a more regular basis from now on, including my Custer column whenever I get it done this week.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
More of the same
The scan of my lungs showed no reason for alarm other than the pneumonia, so now I'm waiting for the costly little pills to do their thing, and assumedly all will be well. . . . . .
Dylan is all-atwitter at the prospect of heading to cousin Olivia's tomorrow. She will be 6 on Saturday, plenty of reason to gather for a celebration. Uncle Ry will be 32 Sunday, so he'll join the group in Rochester, too, and probably get a calendar blown out in his honor as well. . . . . .
The long gap since the last presidential primary election (was it only five weeks ago?) has diminished the race from my mind a bit, but I'll probably watch the Obama-Clinton debate tonight. I'm interested in hearing how Sen. Clinton will get us to believe she and Bill are the "little people" candidates while Obama is part of the "elitist" crowd. . . . . .
Dylan and I stopped by the USD football practice yesterday (indoors no doubt because of the ghastly 50 MPH wind outdoors). Unfortunately we won't be here for the spring red-white game Friday night, but college football season is only four months plus a few days away. . . . . .
Dylan is all-atwitter at the prospect of heading to cousin Olivia's tomorrow. She will be 6 on Saturday, plenty of reason to gather for a celebration. Uncle Ry will be 32 Sunday, so he'll join the group in Rochester, too, and probably get a calendar blown out in his honor as well. . . . . .
The long gap since the last presidential primary election (was it only five weeks ago?) has diminished the race from my mind a bit, but I'll probably watch the Obama-Clinton debate tonight. I'm interested in hearing how Sen. Clinton will get us to believe she and Bill are the "little people" candidates while Obama is part of the "elitist" crowd. . . . . .
Dylan and I stopped by the USD football practice yesterday (indoors no doubt because of the ghastly 50 MPH wind outdoors). Unfortunately we won't be here for the spring red-white game Friday night, but college football season is only four months plus a few days away. . . . . .
Monday, April 14, 2008
This and that to catch up
It's Monday night, April 14, and the tax service in Rapid City which did my income taxes last year called to inquire if I was in good shape for this year. In great shape actually! I'm getting a refund for the first time in so many working years that I can't even remember what a refund is like. I just wish I had filed in January instead of two weeks ago! . . . . .
I've been hacking and coughing and feeling lousy and having a hard time sleeping for at least two weeks, so today, after a weekend when the right side of my chest started to hurt each time I inhaled, I went to a doctor. Pneumonia, of course! Ten sickly yellow Levaquin pills cost me $115; I suppose I should be thankful that my trusty prescription insurance paid $19 of the total cost. (I wonder which presidential candidate will fix this issue!) I also have to have a CATscan of my chest in Yankton tomorrow morning since some blood figures were alarmingly high, according to the doctor's nurse. They assured me the cause is probably the pneumonia, but they want to be sure that it's not a pulmonary something-or-other. So this adventure continues at least for another day. I'd be satisfied for now if my first of 10 pills would stop my coughing. . . . . .
So life goes on for at least another day!
I've been hacking and coughing and feeling lousy and having a hard time sleeping for at least two weeks, so today, after a weekend when the right side of my chest started to hurt each time I inhaled, I went to a doctor. Pneumonia, of course! Ten sickly yellow Levaquin pills cost me $115; I suppose I should be thankful that my trusty prescription insurance paid $19 of the total cost. (I wonder which presidential candidate will fix this issue!) I also have to have a CATscan of my chest in Yankton tomorrow morning since some blood figures were alarmingly high, according to the doctor's nurse. They assured me the cause is probably the pneumonia, but they want to be sure that it's not a pulmonary something-or-other. So this adventure continues at least for another day. I'd be satisfied for now if my first of 10 pills would stop my coughing. . . . . .
So life goes on for at least another day!
Saturday, April 5, 2008
'Nothing could be finer than to hammer Carolina . . . . .'
I can't resist coming back to life on this blog after Saturday night's two magnificent Final Four games. With Duke long gone from the tournament, it's sweeter than sweet, it's almost even better than Duke being there and winning, to see North Carolina absolutely embarrassed, pummeled, destroyed by Kansas in the first half, and then, after a Carolina rally, to see it done all over again. An 18-point demolition for Hansbrough, King Roy Williams and the Sickly Blue Crew! Beautiful!
If one picture is worth a thousand words, it's Hansbrough on the seat of his pants, hammered to the floor by the KU defenders, his shots blocked, his homely body outrebounded. Sports Illustrated will probably NOT have a photo taken from above the basket showing Hansbrough going up to the hoop because tonight he didn't get there! Awesomely wonderful!
A few tears from the press conference podium by Roy Williams will be so sweet tonight.
Almost as entertaining was UCLA getting sent back to Hollywood and beach duty by 15 points by Memphis. UCLA won so many escapes all season thanks to officials' favorable calls; tonight they weren't close enough for that to happen!
Carolina? Gone! UCLA? Gone!
Probably no calls from my Tar Heel friends tonight. Ha ha ha ha ha!
If one picture is worth a thousand words, it's Hansbrough on the seat of his pants, hammered to the floor by the KU defenders, his shots blocked, his homely body outrebounded. Sports Illustrated will probably NOT have a photo taken from above the basket showing Hansbrough going up to the hoop because tonight he didn't get there! Awesomely wonderful!
A few tears from the press conference podium by Roy Williams will be so sweet tonight.
Almost as entertaining was UCLA getting sent back to Hollywood and beach duty by 15 points by Memphis. UCLA won so many escapes all season thanks to officials' favorable calls; tonight they weren't close enough for that to happen!
Carolina? Gone! UCLA? Gone!
Probably no calls from my Tar Heel friends tonight. Ha ha ha ha ha!
Saturday, March 22, 2008
I'm out for awhile
Saturday night in cold Vermillion. The calendar says it's spring, but don't you believe it. . . . . .
Well, in the tournament my favorite teams have fallen by the wayside---Drake is gone, Duke is gone, Notre Dame is gone, BYU is gone. Only Wisconsin and West Virginia are left. I just watched UCLA escape in front of a home crowd as everyone knew they would, but it was fun to see the mighty #1 Bruins sweat down to the final five seconds. Maybe we're saving the biggest upset of them all for Carolina to lose on Sunday. Sure, on their "home" court in Raleigh? Nope, the NCAA wants a UCLA-Carolina final, so I'll be watching baseball that night. . . . . .
Happy Easter to the kids and all the family. I assume Jason and Allison stayed in Rapid City. Ryan, I hope you're feeling better this week, and hi to Cassie as well. The Perli family and Heather are in Pierre. This was Day #9 for Oliver and me alone here, but Heather and Dylan will be home by Monday night. Monday will be an all-day cleaning experience around here. Oliver and I (well, he won't be much help!) are going to vacuum and wash and dust, etc. . . . . .
Anonymous responders to this and other blogs take all the fun out of it, so I'm out of here for awhile. I think I'll stick to writing my once-a-month newspaper column. . . . . .
Well, in the tournament my favorite teams have fallen by the wayside---Drake is gone, Duke is gone, Notre Dame is gone, BYU is gone. Only Wisconsin and West Virginia are left. I just watched UCLA escape in front of a home crowd as everyone knew they would, but it was fun to see the mighty #1 Bruins sweat down to the final five seconds. Maybe we're saving the biggest upset of them all for Carolina to lose on Sunday. Sure, on their "home" court in Raleigh? Nope, the NCAA wants a UCLA-Carolina final, so I'll be watching baseball that night. . . . . .
Happy Easter to the kids and all the family. I assume Jason and Allison stayed in Rapid City. Ryan, I hope you're feeling better this week, and hi to Cassie as well. The Perli family and Heather are in Pierre. This was Day #9 for Oliver and me alone here, but Heather and Dylan will be home by Monday night. Monday will be an all-day cleaning experience around here. Oliver and I (well, he won't be much help!) are going to vacuum and wash and dust, etc. . . . . .
Anonymous responders to this and other blogs take all the fun out of it, so I'm out of here for awhile. I think I'll stick to writing my once-a-month newspaper column. . . . . .
Friday, March 21, 2008
We can't trust him; can we?
Mark Bazer's column in Friday's Chicago Tribune:
By Mark Bazer
Who is the real Barack Obama? Undoubtedly, he is a brilliant writer, an eloquent speaker, a rock star of a candidate. But, setting aside Sen. Obama's charisma and lofty oratory about "hope" and "change," do any of us know what the man actually stands for -- if anything?????
Yes, we do know that Obama opposed the Iraq war from the beginning and that he now favors diplomacy with Iraq's neighbors, including Iran. And that, if elected, he'd advocate allotting $2 billion or more to help Iraqi refugees. And, oh right, that he'd withdraw one or two U.S. combat brigades each month, with the goal of bringing all combat brigades home within 16 months -- though keeping a residual force to protect American diplomats and target al-Qaida. But do we know the senator's stance on how to construct a working public-library system in Baghdad? What about his views on establishing an off-track betting site in Kirkuk? And can any of us pretend to know how Obama plans to get Sunnis, Shias and Kurds to agree on a recycling program?
For that matter, can anyone decipher Obama's ideas on environmentalism here at home? Sure, the senator may discuss a "market-based cap-and-trade system to reduce carbon emissions" by "80 percent below 1990 levels by 2050." And that he wants to institute a new National Low Carbon Fuel Standard, increase funding for the Conservation Security Program, eliminate traditional incandescent light bulbs by 2014, create a Green Jobs Corps, fight for a 25 percent federal Renewable Portfolio Standard and blah, blah, blah. All well and good, but what does Sen. Obama believe should be allowed in the American people's blue bins? He has been curiously mum about glossy paper.
But let's not talk about Al Gore-created issues, but about real ones. Like race in America. Turns out Obama's former pastor, Jeremiah Wright, has said some pretty awful things about this country. How can we be certain Sen. Obama doesn't feel the same as Wright does? Has Obama done anything whatsoever to repudiate Wright's sermons and articulate his own ideas? Anything at all? Something along the lines of a well-crafted, from-the-heart 40-minute, 5,000-word speech, perhaps? I've been working nonstop on this piece the last three days, but I'll check after I hand it into my editor.
And how about more bread-and-butter campaign issues. Like abortion. We may know Obama believes in upholding a woman's right to choose. But think of all we don't know. For instance: Has Obama ever performed an abortion? Has he ever needed one himself? And, comb through his record all you want, but I defy you to find the senator's take on the abortion scene in "Dirty Dancing."
Then there is the issue of health care. Obama may have a "plan," and it may be "long," and it may on his "Web site," but could someone from the Obama camp please explain why the senator doesn't read the entire plan at every primary victory speech?
Indeed, how in the world are you supposed to know anything about Obama if you don't have access to the Internet (or do have a special Web browser that doesn't let you type "Obama and issues" into Google)? For the sake of argument, let's say you do have Internet access or know someone who does. Even then, how can you believe that what Barack Obama says he believes is actually what he believes and not something he wants us to believe -- and that, even if elected, he'd continue to espouse and act upon these so-called beliefs until his time in office were over and then, many years later, perhaps on his death bed, he'd reveal that, in fact, he all along believed something entirely different?
Sen. Obama, it's time to stop hiding. It's time to come over to my home and repeat to me everything you've ever said, written or thought. I'm dying to meet you!
By Mark Bazer
Who is the real Barack Obama? Undoubtedly, he is a brilliant writer, an eloquent speaker, a rock star of a candidate. But, setting aside Sen. Obama's charisma and lofty oratory about "hope" and "change," do any of us know what the man actually stands for -- if anything?????
Yes, we do know that Obama opposed the Iraq war from the beginning and that he now favors diplomacy with Iraq's neighbors, including Iran. And that, if elected, he'd advocate allotting $2 billion or more to help Iraqi refugees. And, oh right, that he'd withdraw one or two U.S. combat brigades each month, with the goal of bringing all combat brigades home within 16 months -- though keeping a residual force to protect American diplomats and target al-Qaida. But do we know the senator's stance on how to construct a working public-library system in Baghdad? What about his views on establishing an off-track betting site in Kirkuk? And can any of us pretend to know how Obama plans to get Sunnis, Shias and Kurds to agree on a recycling program?
For that matter, can anyone decipher Obama's ideas on environmentalism here at home? Sure, the senator may discuss a "market-based cap-and-trade system to reduce carbon emissions" by "80 percent below 1990 levels by 2050." And that he wants to institute a new National Low Carbon Fuel Standard, increase funding for the Conservation Security Program, eliminate traditional incandescent light bulbs by 2014, create a Green Jobs Corps, fight for a 25 percent federal Renewable Portfolio Standard and blah, blah, blah. All well and good, but what does Sen. Obama believe should be allowed in the American people's blue bins? He has been curiously mum about glossy paper.
But let's not talk about Al Gore-created issues, but about real ones. Like race in America. Turns out Obama's former pastor, Jeremiah Wright, has said some pretty awful things about this country. How can we be certain Sen. Obama doesn't feel the same as Wright does? Has Obama done anything whatsoever to repudiate Wright's sermons and articulate his own ideas? Anything at all? Something along the lines of a well-crafted, from-the-heart 40-minute, 5,000-word speech, perhaps? I've been working nonstop on this piece the last three days, but I'll check after I hand it into my editor.
And how about more bread-and-butter campaign issues. Like abortion. We may know Obama believes in upholding a woman's right to choose. But think of all we don't know. For instance: Has Obama ever performed an abortion? Has he ever needed one himself? And, comb through his record all you want, but I defy you to find the senator's take on the abortion scene in "Dirty Dancing."
Then there is the issue of health care. Obama may have a "plan," and it may be "long," and it may on his "Web site," but could someone from the Obama camp please explain why the senator doesn't read the entire plan at every primary victory speech?
Indeed, how in the world are you supposed to know anything about Obama if you don't have access to the Internet (or do have a special Web browser that doesn't let you type "Obama and issues" into Google)? For the sake of argument, let's say you do have Internet access or know someone who does. Even then, how can you believe that what Barack Obama says he believes is actually what he believes and not something he wants us to believe -- and that, even if elected, he'd continue to espouse and act upon these so-called beliefs until his time in office were over and then, many years later, perhaps on his death bed, he'd reveal that, in fact, he all along believed something entirely different?
Sen. Obama, it's time to stop hiding. It's time to come over to my home and repeat to me everything you've ever said, written or thought. I'm dying to meet you!
12 hours of basketball ... and more!
That was a fun day. With nobody home this week except the dog and me, I spent 12 hours Thursday jostling between the kitchen (where the computer is) and the living room (where the TV set is). Since I signed up for the FREE NCAA tournament VIP pass online, I got to see the games I wanted to see, rather than the games CBS-TV decided the Midwest should see. It was great! . . . . .
I'm a life-long (well, since the days of Mike Gminski and Jim Spanarkel, anyway) Duke fan, so the majority millions of American sports fans who hate Duke because of their class, quality and excellence turn me off. By the way, I despise (no, I hate ..) North Carolina's Baby Blues. So I'll wager you're all saying Henderson's winning drive to the hoop was a charge, right? . . . . .
Only Kevin Harlan of yesterday's eight CBS-TV play-by-play men sounded like a major leaguer, and he always does. Bolerjack (the guy in Washington) was awful. I always think Gus Johnson is awful. And there were a couple new kids on the block. At least today (Friday) we'll get Jim Nantz and Billy Packer somewhere---probably at Raleigh where North Carolina is. And we'll hear Tim Brando at the Tampa games; he's OK. Best of all, we'll hear Verne Lundquist somewhere, and he to me is the voice of college sports (no, not Brent Musberger; yuk!!!). . . . . .
Attention, broadcasters! Why oh why oh why do you feel compelled to read to me every graphic that appears on the screen? Why? Have you nothing else to contribute? Tomorrow's games are listed on the screen, so you have to read it all to me. Today's top tournament stories are listed on the screen, so you have to read it all to me. A tournament trivia tidbit is posted on the screen, and you have to read it to me. Shut up, or contribute something original. . . . . .
OK, so I used to be an English teacher and a journalist, so this is a grammar lesson. It needs stating because I heard this grievous (not grievious) error at least THREE times on CBS-TV Thursday. You do not follow the preposition "between" with a nominative pronoun, even though in so doing it sounds as if you are being so very prim and proper and correct. You do not say "between HE and so-and-so." The correct grammar is "between HIM and so-and-so." Would you say "I threw the ball to he"? Of course not. Would you say "I got the word from he"? Of course not. "Between" is also a preposition and also requires an objective pronoun. It's BETWEEN HIM AND WHOMEVER, not BETWEEN HE. Good grief! . . . . .
Kentucky, bye-bye. You lost to Gardner-Webb to start the season, and you lose one-and-out in the NCAA. Too bad, Bluebloods. You should probably fire another good coach by tonight. . . . . .
One final jab at CBS-TV broadcasters: Why must you welcome me every time CBS switches to your game site? Just keep broadcasting the game. I don't need to be welcomed. I don't want to be welcomed. And each time you do it, I turn off the volume so I can't hear you! Got that? . . . . .
Along with 12 hours of NCAA men's basketball on TV and the computer, I squeezed in watching the most strategic moments of the Gophers' great hockey win over St. Cloud State on TV and the Jacks' WNIT game. Darn! They had such a great start. Well, now let's get behind the Coyote women for next week. . . . . .
The world seemed to be enthralled with the Kansas State-USC game because of the freshman stars. I find it hard to get all excited about these freshmen. Out of high school, off to a favorable college for one year of basketball, then on to NBA riches? I find it hard to cheer for a one-year college player. So I hope Love/UCLA, Beasley (or is it Beesley?)/KState and the rest fall by the wayside. Let some college SENIORS win the NCAA. Duke's championship teams would be great examples of that. So would Drake this year! . . . . .
I'm a life-long (well, since the days of Mike Gminski and Jim Spanarkel, anyway) Duke fan, so the majority millions of American sports fans who hate Duke because of their class, quality and excellence turn me off. By the way, I despise (no, I hate ..) North Carolina's Baby Blues. So I'll wager you're all saying Henderson's winning drive to the hoop was a charge, right? . . . . .
Only Kevin Harlan of yesterday's eight CBS-TV play-by-play men sounded like a major leaguer, and he always does. Bolerjack (the guy in Washington) was awful. I always think Gus Johnson is awful. And there were a couple new kids on the block. At least today (Friday) we'll get Jim Nantz and Billy Packer somewhere---probably at Raleigh where North Carolina is. And we'll hear Tim Brando at the Tampa games; he's OK. Best of all, we'll hear Verne Lundquist somewhere, and he to me is the voice of college sports (no, not Brent Musberger; yuk!!!). . . . . .
Attention, broadcasters! Why oh why oh why do you feel compelled to read to me every graphic that appears on the screen? Why? Have you nothing else to contribute? Tomorrow's games are listed on the screen, so you have to read it all to me. Today's top tournament stories are listed on the screen, so you have to read it all to me. A tournament trivia tidbit is posted on the screen, and you have to read it to me. Shut up, or contribute something original. . . . . .
OK, so I used to be an English teacher and a journalist, so this is a grammar lesson. It needs stating because I heard this grievous (not grievious) error at least THREE times on CBS-TV Thursday. You do not follow the preposition "between" with a nominative pronoun, even though in so doing it sounds as if you are being so very prim and proper and correct. You do not say "between HE and so-and-so." The correct grammar is "between HIM and so-and-so." Would you say "I threw the ball to he"? Of course not. Would you say "I got the word from he"? Of course not. "Between" is also a preposition and also requires an objective pronoun. It's BETWEEN HIM AND WHOMEVER, not BETWEEN HE. Good grief! . . . . .
Kentucky, bye-bye. You lost to Gardner-Webb to start the season, and you lose one-and-out in the NCAA. Too bad, Bluebloods. You should probably fire another good coach by tonight. . . . . .
One final jab at CBS-TV broadcasters: Why must you welcome me every time CBS switches to your game site? Just keep broadcasting the game. I don't need to be welcomed. I don't want to be welcomed. And each time you do it, I turn off the volume so I can't hear you! Got that? . . . . .
Along with 12 hours of NCAA men's basketball on TV and the computer, I squeezed in watching the most strategic moments of the Gophers' great hockey win over St. Cloud State on TV and the Jacks' WNIT game. Darn! They had such a great start. Well, now let's get behind the Coyote women for next week. . . . . .
The world seemed to be enthralled with the Kansas State-USC game because of the freshman stars. I find it hard to get all excited about these freshmen. Out of high school, off to a favorable college for one year of basketball, then on to NBA riches? I find it hard to cheer for a one-year college player. So I hope Love/UCLA, Beasley (or is it Beesley?)/KState and the rest fall by the wayside. Let some college SENIORS win the NCAA. Duke's championship teams would be great examples of that. So would Drake this year! . . . . .
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