I feel good in boots, leather ones that come up over the ankle . . . no higher, no lower. Come to think of it, maybe my love for boots started when I got my first pair of booties.
My first pair were Red Wings, back in my 20's. Lace 'em up, and you're ready for anything including mud puddles and deep snow.
I left my first pair in Texas after visiting my brother. I called to have them sent back to me and was told that they didn't have them anymore. What? Did they spot some Mexican doing yard work across the street and ask him if he wanted a pair of boots? I'll never figure that one out.
So I bought another pair of Red Wings. After they wore out, I went years . . . a lot of years before I bought another pair. I was shopping in Home of Economy in Grand Forks, North Dakota, and they had a boot sale. Bought a pair of Carolina's for around $40.00 (the company was going out of business). It's 10 years later, and the soles are only about 25% spent. I wear them in the winter, walking to work, and only for work projects in the summer. So I expect to get a lot more years out of them.
Whenever I lace them up, I think of my old friend, Chuck Frautschi, who lived in his boots. Chuck's a retired art teacher, and I have little doubt he wore boots to school every day.
Cowboy boots? Back in the 70's I bought a pair of pseudo-Cowboy boots. But they always hurt the top of my foot. Even when I drive long distances, I must loosen the laces on my shoes. I should buy some slip-ons for traveling.
I also have a pair of knee-high water boots made by a Canadian company, Kamik. WONDERFUL boots. I used to deer hunt in them. Didn't even need socks, they kept my feet warm. In fact, maybe socks make it worse if you sweat.
If you don't have boots, buy a pair . . . any type . . . they'll make you happy.
Wednesday, April 2, 2014
Thursday, March 27, 2014
Retirement
I dream of retirement. Technically, it's slated for July of 2016, but with the way our economy is, and the high cost of health insurance (I thought ObamaCare was going to fix that), I'm not sure I can pull the plug quite that early. Since I work for the State of Minnesota, I'm pretty sure I can cut down to working only three days a week and still get my health insurance paid for. Then I could draw my full retirement without any penalty for earnings (not sure about that, better check it out).
Retirement will not be sitting on the couch watching Netflix movies. I'll continue my three passions: Grandkids, performing my original songs, and genealogy research. I should also be able to shed some pounds as I'll be more active riding bike and walking.
My dad tried to retire from his employer, Midland Co-op, but they kept leaning on him to take assignments. He was an Operational Consultant who covered five states trying to improve the profitability for local co-operatives who had contractual agreements with his company. In simple terms, he was an auditor. Eventually dad retired, and I don't think he missed the job, though I'm sure he missed the camaraderie.
The two bits of advice I can give to young folks is to SAVE AS MUCH MONEY AS YOU CAN and INCUR AS LITTLE DEBT AS YOU CAN. It may not seem a big deal now, but if you can afford to retire at 55 or 60 instead of 66 or 70, it will be worth the sacrifices you made in your younger years. Then you may enjoy a much longer retirement.
Thanks for hearing me out!
Retirement will not be sitting on the couch watching Netflix movies. I'll continue my three passions: Grandkids, performing my original songs, and genealogy research. I should also be able to shed some pounds as I'll be more active riding bike and walking.
My dad tried to retire from his employer, Midland Co-op, but they kept leaning on him to take assignments. He was an Operational Consultant who covered five states trying to improve the profitability for local co-operatives who had contractual agreements with his company. In simple terms, he was an auditor. Eventually dad retired, and I don't think he missed the job, though I'm sure he missed the camaraderie.
The two bits of advice I can give to young folks is to SAVE AS MUCH MONEY AS YOU CAN and INCUR AS LITTLE DEBT AS YOU CAN. It may not seem a big deal now, but if you can afford to retire at 55 or 60 instead of 66 or 70, it will be worth the sacrifices you made in your younger years. Then you may enjoy a much longer retirement.
Thanks for hearing me out!
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
Ancestry.com
I spoke to a guy a while back who said that family history meant absolutely nothing to him. I was amazed, not because he's not entitled to his opinion, but I have a such a burning desire for the subject. Perhaps it's due to my not having known any of my grandparents (the last one died when I was five months old).
So, I have an Ancestry.com account and continue to build my family tree and share it with those who are interested. In case you didn't know, Ancestry.com is owned by the LDS Church. They take genealogy very seriously as they believe in the "baptism of the dead" whereby the souls of their ancestors can be "saved" after they die. (Please correct me if I'm not right about this).
It is my understanding that Ancestry.com are busy cataloging all sorts of records throughout the world, then making them available on their website. One can pay monthly or annually. The more-expensive World Explorer membership gives one access to records outside the U.S.A. But it's a hit-or-miss situation. I buy a World Explorer membership once or twice a year, then hit it hard.
Of course, when searching, it helps to have the right information. And, for surnames that are often misspelled, one should check the "Soundex" box that results in similar-sounding names being included in the results list. And don't forget that even census enumerators misspelled names and made other mistakes--so be ready to do a lot of interpolating.
A neat feature of Ancestry.com is that you can do a search for a person, then (on the left-hand panel) choose "Family Trees." Here you can review other researchers' family trees, although you won't see info on living people.
I've found so many people and surnames in my family tree--pleasant little surprises. No famous people yet, but that will happen. And the tree grows exponentially with each generation that's added.
In some small way, I think it's nice to know about these folks coz, if we ever meet up, I can say, "Oh, you're my half first cousin, six times removed, who owned a saloon in Chicago and whose wife was run over by a train!" That would be a good conversation starter.
So, I have an Ancestry.com account and continue to build my family tree and share it with those who are interested. In case you didn't know, Ancestry.com is owned by the LDS Church. They take genealogy very seriously as they believe in the "baptism of the dead" whereby the souls of their ancestors can be "saved" after they die. (Please correct me if I'm not right about this).
It is my understanding that Ancestry.com are busy cataloging all sorts of records throughout the world, then making them available on their website. One can pay monthly or annually. The more-expensive World Explorer membership gives one access to records outside the U.S.A. But it's a hit-or-miss situation. I buy a World Explorer membership once or twice a year, then hit it hard.
Of course, when searching, it helps to have the right information. And, for surnames that are often misspelled, one should check the "Soundex" box that results in similar-sounding names being included in the results list. And don't forget that even census enumerators misspelled names and made other mistakes--so be ready to do a lot of interpolating.
A neat feature of Ancestry.com is that you can do a search for a person, then (on the left-hand panel) choose "Family Trees." Here you can review other researchers' family trees, although you won't see info on living people.
I've found so many people and surnames in my family tree--pleasant little surprises. No famous people yet, but that will happen. And the tree grows exponentially with each generation that's added.
In some small way, I think it's nice to know about these folks coz, if we ever meet up, I can say, "Oh, you're my half first cousin, six times removed, who owned a saloon in Chicago and whose wife was run over by a train!" That would be a good conversation starter.
Friday, March 21, 2014
Customer Service
Whatever happened to customer service? In a world of values clarification, I wonder if providing good customer service is now up to the individual worker.
Case in point. Almost every morning, I go to the local Super One store for a maple-frosted, unfilled long john, for my granddaughter, Olivia. Fairly often, there are ones with white frosting, ones with white frosting & chopped peanuts, ones with white frosting & coconut, and ones with chocolate frosting. Now, forgive me for being too logical, but it seems to me that, if they always run out of the ones with maple frosting, maybe they should make more of those. Call me irrational if you will, but the solution is to keep an inventory of what you make and what is left over. That way, you can adjust what varieties you prepare each morning.
To make matters worse, I've nicely suggested this on many occasions, and NOTHING CHANGES. I've mentioned it to the bakery workers and to the checkers. Should I go to the manager about a silly sweet roll? Time will tell.
While I'm at it, another problem has cropped up in the bakery. A new worker started there, and all of a sudden the long johns were 2/3 the size they are supposed to be. After mentioning it a half dozen times, it's gotten better.
So not only is customer service a dying art, but so is quality control.
Another thing that irritates me is when I thank a server, and s/he says "No problem." No problem? I certain would hope it's no problem waiting on me. What ever happened to, "My pleasure" or, better yet, "I live to serve your ever need because, if it weren't for the customer, I wouldn't have a job." Well, maybe that's a little overboard, but that should be the sentiment with which people wait on customers.
I won't even begin with the epidemic of tattoos and piercings.
Case in point. Almost every morning, I go to the local Super One store for a maple-frosted, unfilled long john, for my granddaughter, Olivia. Fairly often, there are ones with white frosting, ones with white frosting & chopped peanuts, ones with white frosting & coconut, and ones with chocolate frosting. Now, forgive me for being too logical, but it seems to me that, if they always run out of the ones with maple frosting, maybe they should make more of those. Call me irrational if you will, but the solution is to keep an inventory of what you make and what is left over. That way, you can adjust what varieties you prepare each morning.
To make matters worse, I've nicely suggested this on many occasions, and NOTHING CHANGES. I've mentioned it to the bakery workers and to the checkers. Should I go to the manager about a silly sweet roll? Time will tell.
While I'm at it, another problem has cropped up in the bakery. A new worker started there, and all of a sudden the long johns were 2/3 the size they are supposed to be. After mentioning it a half dozen times, it's gotten better.
So not only is customer service a dying art, but so is quality control.
Another thing that irritates me is when I thank a server, and s/he says "No problem." No problem? I certain would hope it's no problem waiting on me. What ever happened to, "My pleasure" or, better yet, "I live to serve your ever need because, if it weren't for the customer, I wouldn't have a job." Well, maybe that's a little overboard, but that should be the sentiment with which people wait on customers.
I won't even begin with the epidemic of tattoos and piercings.
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
Boston Red Sox
I'm guessing I became a Red Sox fan around 1960-61 when Carl Yaztrzemski joined the team. Up to that time, the only other Carl I had ever run across was Carl Schultz who owned a little bar/grocery a couple miles east of us. It was one of those ma & pa places that sold eggs, milk, and bologna. So, I looked high and low for another Carl, and voila . . . there he was in the form of a tough-as-nails baseball player.
Up to then, I had been a Milwaukee Braves fan and adored Hank Aaron. I even remembered the hollow feeling I got after watching Wally Post from the Cincinnati Reds beat Hammerin' Hank on a grainy episode of Home Run Derby beamed to our rural home from Channel 13 in Eau Claire, Wisconsin. I was later exonerated for jumping ships when the Braves moved to Atlanta. I still don't like them anymore.
So, I followed Car & the Bosox through one disappointing season after another. We came close in '67, making it to the Series against Bob Gibson & the dreaded Cardinals (who had beaten us in '46). I bent my teacher's arm to let me listen on a transistor radio with an earphone and remember letting out a muffled yelp when Yaz hit a home run. We lost in 7, but at least Yaz won the Triple Crown. Back then, games were played during the day coz MLB didn't follow the dictates of the networks.
I started college in '68 and remember watching the awesome Tigers whoop up on the Cardinals. Denny McLain was 31-8 that year (yes, he had 39 decisions), but he only got one of the wins. Mickey Lolich won three for the Tigers. To this day, I think of the Cardinals as the Yankees of the National League.
In '75, we pushed the Big Red Machine to 7 games, losing again. Little did I know that it would be another
So, I watched Yaz play through the '83 season, compiling a .285 batting average over 23 years. Sure wish I could meet him if I ever get to Fenway Park. I only wish he could've played on a championship team. But Yaz helped in the shadows as Boston won three World Series titles in '04, '07 and again in '13, the last time destroying the Cardinals in six games. It's a very good time to be a Red Sox fan.
By the way, as hard as it sounds to believe, I only saw the Bosox for the first time (other than a few of them during the '65 All-Star Game at Met Stadium) the summer of '13. Ryan Dempster started, and they creamed the Twins. In his usual fashion, David Ortiz lit up the stadium.
So, my next big thing is to see Fenway in person. With any kind of luck, that'll happen in 2014, and I'll be wearing my Red Sox jacket! I'll keep you posted.
Up to then, I had been a Milwaukee Braves fan and adored Hank Aaron. I even remembered the hollow feeling I got after watching Wally Post from the Cincinnati Reds beat Hammerin' Hank on a grainy episode of Home Run Derby beamed to our rural home from Channel 13 in Eau Claire, Wisconsin. I was later exonerated for jumping ships when the Braves moved to Atlanta. I still don't like them anymore.
So, I followed Car & the Bosox through one disappointing season after another. We came close in '67, making it to the Series against Bob Gibson & the dreaded Cardinals (who had beaten us in '46). I bent my teacher's arm to let me listen on a transistor radio with an earphone and remember letting out a muffled yelp when Yaz hit a home run. We lost in 7, but at least Yaz won the Triple Crown. Back then, games were played during the day coz MLB didn't follow the dictates of the networks.
I started college in '68 and remember watching the awesome Tigers whoop up on the Cardinals. Denny McLain was 31-8 that year (yes, he had 39 decisions), but he only got one of the wins. Mickey Lolich won three for the Tigers. To this day, I think of the Cardinals as the Yankees of the National League.
In '75, we pushed the Big Red Machine to 7 games, losing again. Little did I know that it would be another
So, I watched Yaz play through the '83 season, compiling a .285 batting average over 23 years. Sure wish I could meet him if I ever get to Fenway Park. I only wish he could've played on a championship team. But Yaz helped in the shadows as Boston won three World Series titles in '04, '07 and again in '13, the last time destroying the Cardinals in six games. It's a very good time to be a Red Sox fan.
By the way, as hard as it sounds to believe, I only saw the Bosox for the first time (other than a few of them during the '65 All-Star Game at Met Stadium) the summer of '13. Ryan Dempster started, and they creamed the Twins. In his usual fashion, David Ortiz lit up the stadium.
So, my next big thing is to see Fenway in person. With any kind of luck, that'll happen in 2014, and I'll be wearing my Red Sox jacket! I'll keep you posted.
Monday, March 17, 2014
St. Patrick's Day
Most people don't realize that, in Ireland, wearing green means you're Catholic, orange means you're Protestant. I don't consider myself either in Christian terms, but that's an in-depth discussion for another time.
I am a quarter Irish from my grandmother, Julia Agnes O'Connell. Her father, James, emigrated to Chicago from Canada and died in September, 1880, when grandma was an infant. His death certificate says that he fell from the sidewalk into a vacant lot and broke his neck. There was an inquest, but his death was ruled accidental.
What puzzles me is that, on the very same day, another James O'Connell, also 28 years old, died in Chicago. Either that's a gross coincidence, or it took someone two tries to kill the intended target. Alas, we'll never know.
I haven't yet traced Mr. O'Connell's ancestry and probably won't find it since he remains a man of mystery, but his wife was Mary Ellen "Minnie" Maguire, daughter of Patrick and Julia Maguire. According to Minnie's death certificate, Patrick was born in Ireland around 1843, and Julia Gorman in Buffalo, NY around the same time. I have found a Julia Gorman on the 1850 census living in Buffalo with her mother, Bridgett. Is it the right Julia? Hard telling.
I never met any of my Irish family because my grandmother died in 1919 of tuberculosis. Her younger brother, James, passed from the same thing. So sad.
So, I've had to learn Irish traditions vicariously. I like peasant food, so I naturally like Irish food. Today, my son Brian is making corned beef without cabbage. I'll have to crack open a beer (sorry, I'm not crazy about Guinness) and enjoy the meal.
Happy St. Patrick's Day!
I am a quarter Irish from my grandmother, Julia Agnes O'Connell. Her father, James, emigrated to Chicago from Canada and died in September, 1880, when grandma was an infant. His death certificate says that he fell from the sidewalk into a vacant lot and broke his neck. There was an inquest, but his death was ruled accidental.
What puzzles me is that, on the very same day, another James O'Connell, also 28 years old, died in Chicago. Either that's a gross coincidence, or it took someone two tries to kill the intended target. Alas, we'll never know.
I haven't yet traced Mr. O'Connell's ancestry and probably won't find it since he remains a man of mystery, but his wife was Mary Ellen "Minnie" Maguire, daughter of Patrick and Julia Maguire. According to Minnie's death certificate, Patrick was born in Ireland around 1843, and Julia Gorman in Buffalo, NY around the same time. I have found a Julia Gorman on the 1850 census living in Buffalo with her mother, Bridgett. Is it the right Julia? Hard telling.
I never met any of my Irish family because my grandmother died in 1919 of tuberculosis. Her younger brother, James, passed from the same thing. So sad.
So, I've had to learn Irish traditions vicariously. I like peasant food, so I naturally like Irish food. Today, my son Brian is making corned beef without cabbage. I'll have to crack open a beer (sorry, I'm not crazy about Guinness) and enjoy the meal.
Happy St. Patrick's Day!
Friday, March 14, 2014
Wistful Songs
Right now, My Cherie Amour is playing on my TuneIn.com station. This song catapults me back to 1968 when I started college in Superior, Wisconsin. That's the beauty of music.
People seems to embrace the music of their youth. I do. Here is a list, in no particular order, of other songs that, like a time machine, whisk me to a simpler time:
Turn Down Day - Cyrkle
Sunny - Bobby Hebb
How Can I Be Sure - Young Rascals
Morning Girl - Neon Philharmonic
Save Your Heart for Me - Gary Lewis & the Playboys
Traces - Classics IV
Everyday With You Girl - Classics IV
Hazy Shade of Winter - Simon & Garfunkel
Sealed With a Kiss - Brian Hyland
A Summer Song - Chad & Jeremy
Cherish - Association
Never My Love - Association
Lazy Day - Spanky & Our Gang
We Can Work It Out - Beatles
What the World Needs Now Is Love - Jackie DeShannon
Love Is Blue - Paul Mauriat
Love Theme from Romeo & Juliet - Henry Mancini
My Cup Runneth Over - Ed Ames
Georgy Girl - Seekers
98.6 - Keith
You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin - Tighteous Brothers
Downtown - Petula Clark
You Can't Hurry Love - Supremes
I'm Gonna Make You Love Me - Supremes & Temptations
See You in September - Happenings
Walk Away Renee - Left Banke
Bus Stop - Hollies
Elusive Butterfly - Bob Lind
Listen People - Herman's Hermits
Surfer Girl - Beach Boys
Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me - Mel Carter
I Go to Pieces - Peter & Gordon
Tell Her No - Zombies
Time of the Season - Zombies
Don't Throw Your Love Away - Searchers
We'll Sing in the Sunshine - Gale Garnett
(Just Like) Romeo & Juliet - Reflections
Concrete & Clay - Unit 4 + 2
A Very Good Year - Frank Sinatra
There's Got to Be a Word! - Innocence
Daydream Believer - Monkees
Come Saturday Morning - Vogues
You've Made Me So Very Happy - Blood, Sweat and Tears
Call me a romantic if you will, but that's what music means to me.
People seems to embrace the music of their youth. I do. Here is a list, in no particular order, of other songs that, like a time machine, whisk me to a simpler time:
Turn Down Day - Cyrkle
Sunny - Bobby Hebb
How Can I Be Sure - Young Rascals
Morning Girl - Neon Philharmonic
Save Your Heart for Me - Gary Lewis & the Playboys
Traces - Classics IV
Everyday With You Girl - Classics IV
Hazy Shade of Winter - Simon & Garfunkel
Sealed With a Kiss - Brian Hyland
A Summer Song - Chad & Jeremy
Cherish - Association
Never My Love - Association
Lazy Day - Spanky & Our Gang
We Can Work It Out - Beatles
What the World Needs Now Is Love - Jackie DeShannon
Love Is Blue - Paul Mauriat
Love Theme from Romeo & Juliet - Henry Mancini
My Cup Runneth Over - Ed Ames
Georgy Girl - Seekers
98.6 - Keith
You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin - Tighteous Brothers
Downtown - Petula Clark
You Can't Hurry Love - Supremes
I'm Gonna Make You Love Me - Supremes & Temptations
See You in September - Happenings
Walk Away Renee - Left Banke
Bus Stop - Hollies
Elusive Butterfly - Bob Lind
Listen People - Herman's Hermits
Surfer Girl - Beach Boys
Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me - Mel Carter
I Go to Pieces - Peter & Gordon
Tell Her No - Zombies
Time of the Season - Zombies
Don't Throw Your Love Away - Searchers
We'll Sing in the Sunshine - Gale Garnett
(Just Like) Romeo & Juliet - Reflections
Concrete & Clay - Unit 4 + 2
A Very Good Year - Frank Sinatra
There's Got to Be a Word! - Innocence
Daydream Believer - Monkees
Come Saturday Morning - Vogues
You've Made Me So Very Happy - Blood, Sweat and Tears
Call me a romantic if you will, but that's what music means to me.
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
Genealogy
Some folks just don't care about family history. That amazes me coz I have a burning interest in it. In some small way, I get to know my ancestors through research and hope that it'll help me identify them when we meet in the wild blue.
And I can forgive those who have no interest; after all, I care nothing about NASCAR, pro football, and quilting, and no one's bothered me yet about it.
Ancestry.com is a WONDERFUL research tool . . . a bit spendy, but most useful. One can search a name, then click on Family Trees, and glom onto others' research. A warning--sometimes others' research is faulty, so you must sift through the facts, interpolate, then decide what your truth is.
There are other useful websites depending on what state you live in. Check them out!
My grandmother, Julia Agnes O'Connell Bosk, died in 1919 after spending a few years in the Municipal Tuberculosis Sanatorium in NW Chicago. Now it's a nature park, but some of the old buildings are still there. This summer, I hope to take a tour of North Park Village courtesy of Frances Archer. Then I'll buzz over to Calvary Cemetery in Evanston to her grave site.
Maybe it's important to me coz I never knew any of my grandparents, the last two dying when I was five months old. Time is a cruel adversary.
And I can forgive those who have no interest; after all, I care nothing about NASCAR, pro football, and quilting, and no one's bothered me yet about it.
Ancestry.com is a WONDERFUL research tool . . . a bit spendy, but most useful. One can search a name, then click on Family Trees, and glom onto others' research. A warning--sometimes others' research is faulty, so you must sift through the facts, interpolate, then decide what your truth is.
There are other useful websites depending on what state you live in. Check them out!
My grandmother, Julia Agnes O'Connell Bosk, died in 1919 after spending a few years in the Municipal Tuberculosis Sanatorium in NW Chicago. Now it's a nature park, but some of the old buildings are still there. This summer, I hope to take a tour of North Park Village courtesy of Frances Archer. Then I'll buzz over to Calvary Cemetery in Evanston to her grave site.
Maybe it's important to me coz I never knew any of my grandparents, the last two dying when I was five months old. Time is a cruel adversary.
Monday, March 10, 2014
Snow
I like snow, even if I get a sore back from shoveling it.
I've heard that Eskimos have a buhzillion words for snow but don't know if that's true. I have only four:
The nicest thing about snow is the comfy and sheltered feeling it gives you when you're looking out the window and feeling safe. I never feel more safe than when it's snowing heavily at night.
When my kids were small, we'd build snow forts on the lawn . . . ones with tunnels and roofs. I miss those days.
Now that it's dirty snow season, the dog turds absorb the warmth from the sunshine and almost magically pop through. Keeping ahead of that is quite a chore, but it beats not having a dog. My pet is Lola, the Scottie Dog. 10+ years old and going strong. She has a heart as big as northern Minnesota.
I took the snow off my gazebo and garage roofs to prevent it from melting and running into my garage. Melted snow is not my favorite thing.
A guy I know, named Leroy, once robbed the Rod & Gun Club across the road from his house. The cops followed the tracks right up to his house. I'll bet Leroy doesn't like snow.
I've heard that Eskimos have a buhzillion words for snow but don't know if that's true. I have only four:
- Fluffy snow
- Wet snow
- Dirty snow
- Melted snow
The nicest thing about snow is the comfy and sheltered feeling it gives you when you're looking out the window and feeling safe. I never feel more safe than when it's snowing heavily at night.
When my kids were small, we'd build snow forts on the lawn . . . ones with tunnels and roofs. I miss those days.
Now that it's dirty snow season, the dog turds absorb the warmth from the sunshine and almost magically pop through. Keeping ahead of that is quite a chore, but it beats not having a dog. My pet is Lola, the Scottie Dog. 10+ years old and going strong. She has a heart as big as northern Minnesota.
I took the snow off my gazebo and garage roofs to prevent it from melting and running into my garage. Melted snow is not my favorite thing.
A guy I know, named Leroy, once robbed the Rod & Gun Club across the road from his house. The cops followed the tracks right up to his house. I'll bet Leroy doesn't like snow.
Friday, March 7, 2014
M & M's
I miss the light brown M & M's. Remember them? There still is a dark brown one, but light brown was replaced by blue. I still haven't gotten used to the blue ones. Blue food just isn't right.
Peanut M & M's are all right, but the plain ones still are the standard. I like to hold them in my mouth until they're completely melted, without chewing.
The pretzel M & M's are cool. Mint isn't my bag.
Of course, they're loaded with artificial coloring & flavoring, but so are Cheetos, and I LOVE the hard, crunchy variety.
Oh, and they will melt in your hand if you hold them long enough.
Well, it's Friday, I'm eating M & M's, and I need a beer.
Have a fine weekend!
Peanut M & M's are all right, but the plain ones still are the standard. I like to hold them in my mouth until they're completely melted, without chewing.
The pretzel M & M's are cool. Mint isn't my bag.
Of course, they're loaded with artificial coloring & flavoring, but so are Cheetos, and I LOVE the hard, crunchy variety.
Oh, and they will melt in your hand if you hold them long enough.
Well, it's Friday, I'm eating M & M's, and I need a beer.
Have a fine weekend!
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Open Mic
I will be hosting a new Open Mic the 3rd Wednesday of each month from 8 - 10 p.m. at Black Cat Sports Bar & Grill on south 32 in Thief River Falls, Minnesota. We already have a solid commitment from six area musicians, and others say they will come when available.
This is an Open Mic, not an Open Jam. And we'd prefer that folks perform to real musical instruments (not boom boxes), although we won't turn away someone who doesn't play an instrument. Because we want to keep it intimate, we'd like to limit the open mic to one or two-piece groups. A PA & mics will be provided. Original and cover tunes welcome. Note: Families will be dining in the back room, so we ask that you avoid songs with explicit lyrics. And all performers will be issued a free drink coupon which must be used the same evening.
Come early to sign up, if you wish (but we don't expect musicians to be lined up around the building).
Open Mics are a wonderful thing. The provide a venue for newbies as well as seasoned performers. Songwriters can try out new tunes on the audience to see what reaction they get which spurs them to write more. It's camaraderie at its best!
Don't get me started on the subject of DJ's!
This is an Open Mic, not an Open Jam. And we'd prefer that folks perform to real musical instruments (not boom boxes), although we won't turn away someone who doesn't play an instrument. Because we want to keep it intimate, we'd like to limit the open mic to one or two-piece groups. A PA & mics will be provided. Original and cover tunes welcome. Note: Families will be dining in the back room, so we ask that you avoid songs with explicit lyrics. And all performers will be issued a free drink coupon which must be used the same evening.
Come early to sign up, if you wish (but we don't expect musicians to be lined up around the building).
Open Mics are a wonderful thing. The provide a venue for newbies as well as seasoned performers. Songwriters can try out new tunes on the audience to see what reaction they get which spurs them to write more. It's camaraderie at its best!
Don't get me started on the subject of DJ's!
Friday, February 28, 2014
Beatlemania
I was in 8th grade when the Beatle's first appeared on the Ed Sullivan Show, February 9, 1964. I was already playing guitar, mostly surf music, but everything changed after that. No more three-chord songs . . . verse, chorus, verse, chorus, verse chorus. The Fab Four crafted such beautiful bridges to most of their songs, something that has impacted my songwriting to this day.
And playing in a band caused my social stock to rise exponentially!
JFK was assassinated only 79 days before. It's always been my opinion that the Beatles were sucked into a cultural vaccuum created by that heinous event. America needed to forget.
All My Loving was the first song the boys played on TV. I have a recollection of Paul's mic not being turned on the first few seconds of the songs, but TV clips seem to disprove that.
The first album I could afford to buy was Beatles '65. I loved those songs, especially No Reply and I'm a Loser.
Then came Rubber Soul--sheer ear candy to me. Revolver was very interesting, but I'll admit that I didn't care for the Indian/rock fusion, being a popster.
Stupid me--I had a chance to attend their concert at Met Stadium in Bloomington MN, and I thought the $5.00 ticket was too much. My butt is sore from kicking myself for the past 50 years.
Sgt. Pepper started my disinterest in the band. I've ALWAYS been one who likes bands who can play their stuff on stage. The overproduction did me in. And, to me, the Beatles got too full of themselves and, even though they're my all-time favorite band, I have to take my hat off the the Stones who always seemed to remain an organic unit.
I now do a solo act, mostly original stuff, but I'd love to include Julia, Girl, I'm Looking Through You, and Michelle into my act. Everyone plays You've Got to Hide Your Love Away and Blackbird.
50 years is so hard to believe. I watched the Grammy special commemorating their anniversary. What struck me as odd was the musicians they chose to perform to Sir Paul and Ringo (why isn't he Sir Ringo?). I would have chosen more well-known artists. I had never heard of Gary Clark Jr. or Pharrell Williams (go ahead, call me square). And why didn't they have Brad Paisley do one of the more countrified Beatles' songs, like Act Naturally or even I'm Looking Through You. That said, he didn't look too happy to be doing a duet with Pharrell Williams.
What a hoot watching 81-year-old Yoko Ono dancing in the aisle. Even Sean was moving to the music. I thought I saw Julian at the very end, a few rows back, but I could be mistaken. I've always felt bad that he got the short end of the stick.
Charisma, charm, wit, good looks, GREAT music . . . it's small wonder why the Beatles made it to the toppermost.
And playing in a band caused my social stock to rise exponentially!
JFK was assassinated only 79 days before. It's always been my opinion that the Beatles were sucked into a cultural vaccuum created by that heinous event. America needed to forget.
All My Loving was the first song the boys played on TV. I have a recollection of Paul's mic not being turned on the first few seconds of the songs, but TV clips seem to disprove that.
The first album I could afford to buy was Beatles '65. I loved those songs, especially No Reply and I'm a Loser.
Then came Rubber Soul--sheer ear candy to me. Revolver was very interesting, but I'll admit that I didn't care for the Indian/rock fusion, being a popster.
Stupid me--I had a chance to attend their concert at Met Stadium in Bloomington MN, and I thought the $5.00 ticket was too much. My butt is sore from kicking myself for the past 50 years.
Sgt. Pepper started my disinterest in the band. I've ALWAYS been one who likes bands who can play their stuff on stage. The overproduction did me in. And, to me, the Beatles got too full of themselves and, even though they're my all-time favorite band, I have to take my hat off the the Stones who always seemed to remain an organic unit.
I now do a solo act, mostly original stuff, but I'd love to include Julia, Girl, I'm Looking Through You, and Michelle into my act. Everyone plays You've Got to Hide Your Love Away and Blackbird.
50 years is so hard to believe. I watched the Grammy special commemorating their anniversary. What struck me as odd was the musicians they chose to perform to Sir Paul and Ringo (why isn't he Sir Ringo?). I would have chosen more well-known artists. I had never heard of Gary Clark Jr. or Pharrell Williams (go ahead, call me square). And why didn't they have Brad Paisley do one of the more countrified Beatles' songs, like Act Naturally or even I'm Looking Through You. That said, he didn't look too happy to be doing a duet with Pharrell Williams.
What a hoot watching 81-year-old Yoko Ono dancing in the aisle. Even Sean was moving to the music. I thought I saw Julian at the very end, a few rows back, but I could be mistaken. I've always felt bad that he got the short end of the stick.
Charisma, charm, wit, good looks, GREAT music . . . it's small wonder why the Beatles made it to the toppermost.
Beer
Martin Mull once said that no one buys beer, they simply rent it.
I didn't start drinking beer in earnest until I turned 50. American lagers never appealed to me. The words Schlitz, Hamms, Grain Belt, Schmidt, and Pabst conjured up thoughts of foul tasting liquid made slightly palatable by to good shake of salt.
Then, the sun broke through the clouds when I stopped at my friend, Dave Olson's place in Tomah, Wisconsin. Dave asked if I wanted to taste the amber ale he had just brewed. I'm like, "You make beer?" My son, Brian, was with, and he said, "My dad doesn't drink." Of course, that wasn't true--I drank water, milk & OJ. But, I knew what he meant.
Brian just about fell over when I said, "Sure, I'll try it!"
Dave helped open up a whole new world to me and even offered to buy me a brewing kit. I didn't take him up on it, but I continued to try craft beers on tap and in the bottle. 14 years later, I still don't drink much beer, but I like to try new things and, thanks to a burgeoning brewing industry, I have lots to try.
My first favorite beer was Newcastle Brown Ale. I remember getting a tall glass of it at Buffalo Wild Wings in Fargo, North Dakota. It was heavenly. Then I went to a graduation party and was introduced to Blue Moon. Now, before you think, "That's a big box beer by Coors," I haven't yet tasted a wheat ale that I like better, but I'm sure willing to try.
So, wheat beer (which also has barley in it) is my preference, and I rather like fruit-infused varieties (I know, I know).
Growing up in Wisconsin, I eventually discovered the offerings of New Glarus Brewing, just south of Madison. Spotted Cow is made from corn & barley, one I like to crack open after work on Fridays. Then, while visiting Brian at college in Platteville, Wisconsin, he took us to Potosi Brewing on the Mississippi, and it was love at first taste when I ordered a glass of Cave Ale. Sadly, neither beer is sold in Minnesota, but I load up when I make a trip east.
One thing I have learned: I don't like hoppy beers. Call me a beer wuss if you must, but I like beers less than 30 IBU's (International Bitterness Units). Here's a list of my favorites:
Any of the Wild beers: Wild Blue, Wild Red, Wild Black (Blue Dawg)
Monte Python's Holy Grail Ale (Black Sheep)
Cherry Wheat (Samuel Adams)
Vanilla Porter (Breckenridge)
1554 (New Belgium)
Honeycrisp Apple Wheat (Shock Top)
Spotted Cow (New Glarus)
Cave Ale (Potosi)
Pre-Prohibition Lager (Lucky Bucket)
Summer Shandy (Leinenkugel's)
Blue Moon (Blue Moon)
and my favorite holiday beer . . . Shiner Holiday Cheer (Spoetzl)
Then there's the beers that only come in growlers:
Apricot Ale (Fitger's)
Sinister Pear (Laughing Sun)
All told, I like draught beer better than in the bottle or can. And, to me, beer is to be drunk on an empty stomach--sort of an appetizer. That's all the wisdom I have for now!
I didn't start drinking beer in earnest until I turned 50. American lagers never appealed to me. The words Schlitz, Hamms, Grain Belt, Schmidt, and Pabst conjured up thoughts of foul tasting liquid made slightly palatable by to good shake of salt.
Then, the sun broke through the clouds when I stopped at my friend, Dave Olson's place in Tomah, Wisconsin. Dave asked if I wanted to taste the amber ale he had just brewed. I'm like, "You make beer?" My son, Brian, was with, and he said, "My dad doesn't drink." Of course, that wasn't true--I drank water, milk & OJ. But, I knew what he meant.
Brian just about fell over when I said, "Sure, I'll try it!"
Dave helped open up a whole new world to me and even offered to buy me a brewing kit. I didn't take him up on it, but I continued to try craft beers on tap and in the bottle. 14 years later, I still don't drink much beer, but I like to try new things and, thanks to a burgeoning brewing industry, I have lots to try.
My first favorite beer was Newcastle Brown Ale. I remember getting a tall glass of it at Buffalo Wild Wings in Fargo, North Dakota. It was heavenly. Then I went to a graduation party and was introduced to Blue Moon. Now, before you think, "That's a big box beer by Coors," I haven't yet tasted a wheat ale that I like better, but I'm sure willing to try.
So, wheat beer (which also has barley in it) is my preference, and I rather like fruit-infused varieties (I know, I know).
Growing up in Wisconsin, I eventually discovered the offerings of New Glarus Brewing, just south of Madison. Spotted Cow is made from corn & barley, one I like to crack open after work on Fridays. Then, while visiting Brian at college in Platteville, Wisconsin, he took us to Potosi Brewing on the Mississippi, and it was love at first taste when I ordered a glass of Cave Ale. Sadly, neither beer is sold in Minnesota, but I load up when I make a trip east.
One thing I have learned: I don't like hoppy beers. Call me a beer wuss if you must, but I like beers less than 30 IBU's (International Bitterness Units). Here's a list of my favorites:
Any of the Wild beers: Wild Blue, Wild Red, Wild Black (Blue Dawg)
Monte Python's Holy Grail Ale (Black Sheep)
Cherry Wheat (Samuel Adams)
Vanilla Porter (Breckenridge)
1554 (New Belgium)
Honeycrisp Apple Wheat (Shock Top)
Spotted Cow (New Glarus)
Cave Ale (Potosi)
Pre-Prohibition Lager (Lucky Bucket)
Summer Shandy (Leinenkugel's)
Blue Moon (Blue Moon)
and my favorite holiday beer . . . Shiner Holiday Cheer (Spoetzl)
Then there's the beers that only come in growlers:
Apricot Ale (Fitger's)
Sinister Pear (Laughing Sun)
All told, I like draught beer better than in the bottle or can. And, to me, beer is to be drunk on an empty stomach--sort of an appetizer. That's all the wisdom I have for now!
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
Tuesdays Are Almost As Bad As Mondays
My favorite day of the week is Saturday, followed by:
Sunday
Friday
Thursday
Wednesday
Tuesday
Monday
When I retire, they will all be the same . . . great days!
Retirement seems like the light at the end of the tunnel that never arrives, but I'm 28 months away from full retirement age; and, by hell or high water, I'm going to end the day job and get more involved in family, music, and home repair. And, hey, as my income plummets, perhaps I'll qualify for those government programs that help po' folks fix up their houses!
I'm a pretty busy guy. I work 40 hours a week for the State of Minnesota as an employment counselor, riding herd on welfare recipients either to find work or file for disability. 10% of my customers take up 90% of my time. Egads!
Then there's my live radio show, Minnesota HomeBrew. I get paid for three hours, again by the State (through a Legacy Grant), and I put in 8 - 10 hours on the show. AND I should put in more time to make it the show I want it to be, complete with in-depth, dazzling interviews.
Then there's songwriting which I do little of. I start a lot of songs, then they sit there as if in a petri dish, either germinating or dying. The problem with being a sexagenarian songwriter is that one's sort of (I said "sort of") over writing love songs. So I look for other subjects and have thus become "famous" for my weird, bent, nutty, eyebrow-raising offerings, even though I've written some pretty, heartfelt songs, like "A Day in April" and "That Moment." Here are some recent and not-so-recent unfinished song ideas:
"Why Are My Clothes Shrinking" about the battle of the bulge.
"Oklee MN 56742" about my favorite little town.
"Lloyd & Leo" about my hometown cops.
"Shower Hooks" about less-than-useful things in our lives.
"Beer Snob" about the perils of learning too much about beer.
"My Least Favorite Things," a parody on "My Favorite Things" from The Sound of Music.
"War Is Heck," a tongue-in-cheek song about how modern conveniences make being a soldier a bit easier.
And then there's my grandkids, Liv & Ody!
So, when people say that retirement would be boring, I tell them that I would still be busier than a Pole in a pirogue shop!
Sunday
Friday
Thursday
Wednesday
Tuesday
Monday
When I retire, they will all be the same . . . great days!
Retirement seems like the light at the end of the tunnel that never arrives, but I'm 28 months away from full retirement age; and, by hell or high water, I'm going to end the day job and get more involved in family, music, and home repair. And, hey, as my income plummets, perhaps I'll qualify for those government programs that help po' folks fix up their houses!
I'm a pretty busy guy. I work 40 hours a week for the State of Minnesota as an employment counselor, riding herd on welfare recipients either to find work or file for disability. 10% of my customers take up 90% of my time. Egads!
Then there's my live radio show, Minnesota HomeBrew. I get paid for three hours, again by the State (through a Legacy Grant), and I put in 8 - 10 hours on the show. AND I should put in more time to make it the show I want it to be, complete with in-depth, dazzling interviews.
Then there's songwriting which I do little of. I start a lot of songs, then they sit there as if in a petri dish, either germinating or dying. The problem with being a sexagenarian songwriter is that one's sort of (I said "sort of") over writing love songs. So I look for other subjects and have thus become "famous" for my weird, bent, nutty, eyebrow-raising offerings, even though I've written some pretty, heartfelt songs, like "A Day in April" and "That Moment." Here are some recent and not-so-recent unfinished song ideas:
"Why Are My Clothes Shrinking" about the battle of the bulge.
"Oklee MN 56742" about my favorite little town.
"Lloyd & Leo" about my hometown cops.
"Shower Hooks" about less-than-useful things in our lives.
"Beer Snob" about the perils of learning too much about beer.
"My Least Favorite Things," a parody on "My Favorite Things" from The Sound of Music.
"War Is Heck," a tongue-in-cheek song about how modern conveniences make being a soldier a bit easier.
And then there's my grandkids, Liv & Ody!
So, when people say that retirement would be boring, I tell them that I would still be busier than a Pole in a pirogue shop!
Monday, February 24, 2014
Monday Blues
Does the world need another blog? Probably not. But, if I feel like blathering, opining, griping, bloviating, sounding off, complaining, kvetching or . . . wait for it . . . animadverting about something, I need a blog. It will never be my intention of offending or hurting anyone, so go with me on this. I don't like discussing politics or religion. Politically, I'm an independent who leans right; and in matters of faith, I'm a mavericky (to use Sarah Pahlin's adjective) Christian. But enough about that.
I'm a red-blooded 3rd-generation Euro-American, descended from German, Swiss, Italian, Irish, French, and English roots. I boldly use the term Euro-American because it's appropriate, especially if others are allowed to use Latino-American, African-American, Asian-American, and Native American. In fact, the last term puzzles me coz (1) Since I was born in America, I'm native, and (2) since I live in America, I'm American. So why aren't I Native American? Enough said about that too!
I'm a red-blooded 3rd-generation Euro-American, descended from German, Swiss, Italian, Irish, French, and English roots. I boldly use the term Euro-American because it's appropriate, especially if others are allowed to use Latino-American, African-American, Asian-American, and Native American. In fact, the last term puzzles me coz (1) Since I was born in America, I'm native, and (2) since I live in America, I'm American. So why aren't I Native American? Enough said about that too!
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