My friend Bob and I were going to be at the Other Bob’s concert last night. Damn virus. Since we’re all playing ‘Shelter From the Storm’ these days as a wishful-thinking exercise…here it is. Shelter From the Storm ‘Twas in another lifetime, one of toil and blood When blackness was a virtue the road was full of mud I came in from the wilderness, a creature void of form Come in, she… Read More
Where there is cake, there is hope. And there is always cake. (Dean Koontz) So when I was a kid growing up in a tiny farm at the end of a gravel road in the north woods of Minnesota, I was terribly uninteresting. I didn’t care much for serious farm work or even riding my horse or playing with other kids (well…there was only one other kid within six-seven miles besides my… Read More
I’m lonely often these days. Not really a deeply depressive or even particularly sad loneliness. Just that feeling of wishing to see a person or place that’s not here… or go to time that’s not now. Sometimes wishing intensifies into longing…sometimes it’s just okay to think fondly of the missing piece. For today I’m thinking Minnesota. Last summer. Home. Water. Rivers. Lakes. It’s still cold up there, been snowing this week…. My… Read More
The epic-travel year of 2019 is more than half over in numbers of trips taken—if not in miles to go. San Diego and the Bay Area; Grand Rapids, International Falls, St. Paul, Minnesota; Montreal, Quebec Canada; Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Done. The more exotic destinations (Samarkand, Uzbekistan and Dover, Delaware for example) still to go. Remember this was the year of ‘sentimental journeys’. So how am I doing so far, I ask… Read More
MACROSTIE ART CENTER, GRAND RAPIDS MN BOB DYLAN HOUSE AND SCHOOL, HIBBING MN (where he grew up…although he almost never admits it) If you’re travelin’ in the north country fair Where the winds hit heavy on the borderline Remember me to one who lives there She once was a true love of mine GREYHOUND BUS MUSEUM, HIBBING MN Let us be lovers, we’ll marry our fortunes together I’ve got… Read More
When I was a kid we went visiting. Over to the neighbors, over to the friends, maybe further away to visit the cousins. Visiting consisted firstly of serious amounts of coffee and ‘lunch.’ Usually the latter included sandwiches (white bread, luncheon meat, cheese, butter, jam), sauce (home canned fruits of many kinds), cookies, and cake (the cake having been quickly put together and into the oven after the company arrived) and… Read More
Vaca is nearly over. This has been an authentic vacation—as in doing as little as possible and then only the most pleasant of activities. I’ve started sleeping again which was a touch-and-go proposition for awhile before leaving Albuquerque. I’ve read and read and read. Visited—as in sitting around talking to people you haven’t seen for awhile—and if in Minnesota, drinking coffee and eating cake. In other words, slothing (an act of just… Read More
The house I grew up in and I are disintegrating at about the same rate. Actually the old house may be even more wrecked than me but its dilapidation is far more interesting to behold.
To me it is beautiful here, where I grew up, just as it is: overgrown, collapsing, old timber and stucco buildings reverting to woods. The welcome wagon meets us on the road and then we just walk around and listen to our young voices echoing through the treetops.
Marsha’s toe became calcified—or something like that. Doctor said ‘it must go.’ So it was chopped off. It’s a bit more complicated than that but there’s apparently nothing life- or even gait-threatening so we all feel free to poke fun at Marsha’s Toe Story. I thought it should enter cyberspace for the sake of posterity. Here then….