Sometime ago, when I graduated from high school, I got a summer job at the Pioneer Drive Inn at Hwy 61 and Hwy 244 in White Bear Lake. It was the first job other than lawn care and I still worked the lawn stuff early in the day and then went to the cafe at night.
It was a time of classic transitions----just a mile from the Pioneer Drive Inn, with its classic canopy and the drive up tray holders with the menu and voice system, construction was in progress on the very first McDonalds for White Bear Lake. In just a few months, McDonalds would be rolling out the menu of 25 cent burgers and coke and fries.....and the Pioneer would surely be out of business and sold. Everyone knew. These were the final days.
One of the regular fry cooks had suddenly quit to take a position on the dishwasher line at Whirlpool in St. Paul, and the back up fry cook position had opened up. I was the "gofer" for the early training period, and was trained to be respectful to our head honcho fry cook, "Tony". He was about 21, rode a brand new Harley, and was dating the head waitress, "Susie".
She sure was a beauty-----that Harley. It was a Duo Glide---and by all Harley enthusiasts it was the most beautiful Harley of all time. It was not the Electra Glide--that came next. This was the model with the kick start and the magneto, not the points. Click on the post for some pictures. And it was beautiful. OK. And so was Susie.
Every Saturday night, just about 11PM, when the traffic started to slow just a bit, Tony would turn to me and say, " Well, it's time to blow this pop joint," and he would ceremoniously toss the spatula to me to take over.
Then with a wink, and a smile, he would shout, "Let's go Susie".
He would quickly punch out his time card and the two of them would head out and mount the massive Harley parked neatly on the side of the restaurant, in eye's view of Tony at the grill.
There was something magical about the way those two took off from the Pioneer Drive Inn. Those were the golden early years of biking and------ As modern folks know..... riding back then was rough. Even with shocks front and back.....the bikes still vibrated a lot. The engines were not balanced like they are today.
Then of course you had the people that did not like bikers and would try and run em off the road. You had to be pretty tough back in those days. Those were the Outlaw days of biking.
My wheels were a 52 Buick with a straight stick. Needless to say, I was not in the league of those wild and crazy Harley guys. In fact. In retrospect. I was pretty darn lucky to be back up fry cook and be the recipient of that tossed spatula.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
"No Report"; or "The Quiet Rule"-----For Kids; For Politicians
Last week I was up to Lake Leota Park and stopped in the Upper Shelter to get some shade and a bit of cool water.
Some local parents and their children were there also, with the kids playing on the gym equipment.
Suddenly one of the parents exclaimed:
"Uh, Oh."
Always on the lookout for a breaking story, I asked, "What's wrong?"
"The kids have been silent for a full minute," the parent replied.
"Have you forgotten, Mr. Observer, that this is the universal sign known to all parents that the kids are a) playing with mud, b) playing with water or c) both.
Quickly I glanced at the play area. Sure enough---the kids had gotten some water and were mixing a special mixture of mud to cool their feet.
I could not believe how quickly I had forgotten "The Quiet Rule." It is really the same rule in business or government. When one is a supervisor and asks, "What's new?" and the reporting employee responds, "Oh nothing," or "NO REPORT" that is the universal sign to conduct a full audit.
Make a note of it.
Some local parents and their children were there also, with the kids playing on the gym equipment.
Suddenly one of the parents exclaimed:
"Uh, Oh."
Always on the lookout for a breaking story, I asked, "What's wrong?"
"The kids have been silent for a full minute," the parent replied.
"Have you forgotten, Mr. Observer, that this is the universal sign known to all parents that the kids are a) playing with mud, b) playing with water or c) both.
Quickly I glanced at the play area. Sure enough---the kids had gotten some water and were mixing a special mixture of mud to cool their feet.
I could not believe how quickly I had forgotten "The Quiet Rule." It is really the same rule in business or government. When one is a supervisor and asks, "What's new?" and the reporting employee responds, "Oh nothing," or "NO REPORT" that is the universal sign to conduct a full audit.
Make a note of it.
Friday, June 22, 2007
Nostalgia: "Let's Suspend the Rules"---a true story
Recently my daughters gave me a MP3 player for Father's Day. Yes. It is one of the inner secrets of The Observer that although the podcasts of The Observer are downloadable as well as the audio from meetings, I have been stuck with sitting by the computer and listening rather than biking, running or other pleasurable pursuits and enjoying the audio.
After unpacking the MP3 player I asked the youngest to explain SLOWLY how to download some stuff from the special hard drive that holds audio from yesteryear. I watched her closely, mindful of the value of all the audio as posterity was depending on me to preserve it.
Imagine my surprise when in listening to it that she had mixed it so I could listen to Tom Petty and then Bill Connors, and then Roy Orbison and then school board meetings. What an eclectic mix.
One of the first tracks that came on right after "Billy the Kid" was a track on "Let's Suspend the Rules."
This was a very famous meeting at Evansville City Council---it was the second Council meeting of our new Mayor. There had been some mixup in the selection process of committee assignments and it was necessary to "Suspend the Rules" to correct it.
Right after this, Bill Connors had reflected that with respect to "collector streets" we seemed to have these rules on the books but alas, they had never been followed. He ended his reflection by asking; "Do we really mean it?"
Alas, this meeting was one that I was still learning the ropes on recording so it is real faint. However-----the question is very relevant:
Do we really mean it. About the rules. Are we a people that just suspend them when it gets inconvenient?
How lucky I am that I get to have the question asked of me every day or so, right after Tom Petty and the Heartbrakers.
After unpacking the MP3 player I asked the youngest to explain SLOWLY how to download some stuff from the special hard drive that holds audio from yesteryear. I watched her closely, mindful of the value of all the audio as posterity was depending on me to preserve it.
Imagine my surprise when in listening to it that she had mixed it so I could listen to Tom Petty and then Bill Connors, and then Roy Orbison and then school board meetings. What an eclectic mix.
One of the first tracks that came on right after "Billy the Kid" was a track on "Let's Suspend the Rules."
This was a very famous meeting at Evansville City Council---it was the second Council meeting of our new Mayor. There had been some mixup in the selection process of committee assignments and it was necessary to "Suspend the Rules" to correct it.
Right after this, Bill Connors had reflected that with respect to "collector streets" we seemed to have these rules on the books but alas, they had never been followed. He ended his reflection by asking; "Do we really mean it?"
Alas, this meeting was one that I was still learning the ropes on recording so it is real faint. However-----the question is very relevant:
Do we really mean it. About the rules. Are we a people that just suspend them when it gets inconvenient?
How lucky I am that I get to have the question asked of me every day or so, right after Tom Petty and the Heartbrakers.
Monday, June 11, 2007
The Fortune Cookie Corner: "Welcom Failure; Failure is the Breakfast of Champions"-----a True Story
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Chinese Fortune Cookie Corner: "Welcome Failure: Failure is the Breakfast of Champions"---a true story
Yesterday I had to take my youngest to Janesville for a driver education road lesson. Before the lesson, we had a little time together for her to shop and then to share a bit of Chinese at the Food Court.
I have a habit of opening the fortune cookie first--- before the meal. The Fortune Cookie read: " Welcome Failure: Failure is the Breakfast of Champions."
I have mentioned in an earlier post, that over thirty years ago, right after a fortune cookie that read, "Not Now, but Soon," I had received a layoff from an employer. Ever since, I have paid strict attention to those fortune cookies. That being said, I wish they were more precise. The vagueness in unnerving.
Relax. The driving lesson went fine.
I think the Chinese were directing the fortune cookie towards those who did not know that the world of school and life are different. Nobody gets 99.992% success all the time and still ranks at the median of the class.
Most folks are blessed with enough failures so they have a balanced view of their strengths and weaknesses. Or at least the whims of the world.
After reflection, I feel pretty confident that I have had enough failures thank you. I do not need any more.
Then again, maybe the Chinese fortune cookie WAS talking about that planning commission meeting last week---what a devastating failure in the unanimous defeat of the efforts of the community of the 4th Ward to prevent the bar on Exchange Street. Was that what the cookie was talking about? We will never know for sure.
The Observer still recommends that this specific fortune cookie be eliminated from the mix till it can be more specific. I hope the Chinese Observer is taking notes.
Chinese Fortune Cookie Corner: "Welcome Failure: Failure is the Breakfast of Champions"---a true story
Yesterday I had to take my youngest to Janesville for a driver education road lesson. Before the lesson, we had a little time together for her to shop and then to share a bit of Chinese at the Food Court.
I have a habit of opening the fortune cookie first--- before the meal. The Fortune Cookie read: " Welcome Failure: Failure is the Breakfast of Champions."
I have mentioned in an earlier post, that over thirty years ago, right after a fortune cookie that read, "Not Now, but Soon," I had received a layoff from an employer. Ever since, I have paid strict attention to those fortune cookies. That being said, I wish they were more precise. The vagueness in unnerving.
Relax. The driving lesson went fine.
I think the Chinese were directing the fortune cookie towards those who did not know that the world of school and life are different. Nobody gets 99.992% success all the time and still ranks at the median of the class.
Most folks are blessed with enough failures so they have a balanced view of their strengths and weaknesses. Or at least the whims of the world.
After reflection, I feel pretty confident that I have had enough failures thank you. I do not need any more.
Then again, maybe the Chinese fortune cookie WAS talking about that planning commission meeting last week---what a devastating failure in the unanimous defeat of the efforts of the community of the 4th Ward to prevent the bar on Exchange Street. Was that what the cookie was talking about? We will never know for sure.
The Observer still recommends that this specific fortune cookie be eliminated from the mix till it can be more specific. I hope the Chinese Observer is taking notes.
Sunday, June 3, 2007
"Getting Out and ....Staying Out of Debt"---the last book of Don Sheehan
Friday, June 23, 2006
"Getting Out and Staying Out of Debt"---the last book of Don Sheehan
I have written in the past of Don Sheehan, the Dale Carnegie salesman---a world champion award winner. His first two books were "Shut Up and Sell," and "The Price Book." Few know of the last book.
In two short years, I had participated in most all the seminars that Don offered. For the record, my wife, Sue, even attended sales training. Don told me he was working on his third book, "Getting and Staying out of Debt." It was a "tell all" book, and I looked forwarded to seeing it in print.
Then the call. He had a heart attack on a flight from New York. In a day he was gone.
I called his widow a month later and asked whether I could see the manuscript of his book, "Getting and Staying Out of Debt." She said I was welcome to review it.
In the book, Don told the nitty gritty of his days in the sales business, and the world wide travel, the huge audiences booked at large well known hotels. The fame.
Then he told the truth. About the debt. About the overspending that almost ended his career in sales. One day came the light----He and his wife talked it over and changed the way they did---well everything.
The truth as he told it in the book was that "overspending" was the death of salesmen. The death of marriages. The death of families and dreams. At the very pinnacle of success the biggest salesmen were losing everything.
He told the story about the "mortgage burning party" that he invited all the relatives and friends to, where he burned the mortage to their home in Richfield, Mn. And, he encouraged everyone to celebrate paying the individual debt off. And making it a family tradition. He also asked us to invite him to our own party.
So. The last book was the one I had wished I had read sooner. The one book most never read. And the best.
Posted by Evansville Observer at 1:05 PM
"Getting Out and Staying Out of Debt"---the last book of Don Sheehan
I have written in the past of Don Sheehan, the Dale Carnegie salesman---a world champion award winner. His first two books were "Shut Up and Sell," and "The Price Book." Few know of the last book.
In two short years, I had participated in most all the seminars that Don offered. For the record, my wife, Sue, even attended sales training. Don told me he was working on his third book, "Getting and Staying out of Debt." It was a "tell all" book, and I looked forwarded to seeing it in print.
Then the call. He had a heart attack on a flight from New York. In a day he was gone.
I called his widow a month later and asked whether I could see the manuscript of his book, "Getting and Staying Out of Debt." She said I was welcome to review it.
In the book, Don told the nitty gritty of his days in the sales business, and the world wide travel, the huge audiences booked at large well known hotels. The fame.
Then he told the truth. About the debt. About the overspending that almost ended his career in sales. One day came the light----He and his wife talked it over and changed the way they did---well everything.
The truth as he told it in the book was that "overspending" was the death of salesmen. The death of marriages. The death of families and dreams. At the very pinnacle of success the biggest salesmen were losing everything.
He told the story about the "mortgage burning party" that he invited all the relatives and friends to, where he burned the mortage to their home in Richfield, Mn. And, he encouraged everyone to celebrate paying the individual debt off. And making it a family tradition. He also asked us to invite him to our own party.
So. The last book was the one I had wished I had read sooner. The one book most never read. And the best.
Posted by Evansville Observer at 1:05 PM
Monday, May 28, 2007
What George Thorogood could have taught Paris Hilton---On " Bad to the Bone"
Thursday, May 10, 2007
What George Thorogood could have taught Paris Hilton---On "Bad to the Bone"
Recently I had the occasion to overhear two teens talking and one gal said to another: "I'm getting sick and tired of hearing some girls market their judgment errors as product advantages."
I was still and said nothing. Here was someone who understood what Paris Hilton did not. I speculated that this teen had listened to George Thorogood---ALL of the songs and not just "Bad to the Bone."
Even when one reads the lyrics to Bad to the Bone :
On the day I was born, the nurses all gathered 'round
And they gazed in wide wonder, at the joy they had found
The head nurse spoke up, said leave this one alone
She could tell right away, that I was bad to the bone
Bad to the bone
Bad to the bone
B-B-B-B-Bad
B-B-B-B-Bad
B-B-B-B-Bad
Bad to the bone
I broke a thousand hearts, before I met you
I'll break a thousand more baby, before I am through
I wanna be yours pretty baby, yours and yours alone
I'm here to tell ya honey, that I'm bad to the bone
Bad to the bone
B-B-B-Bad
B-B-B-Bad
B-B-B-Bad
Bad to the bone
I'll make a rich woman beg, and I'll make a good woman steal
I'll make an old woman blush, and make a young girl squeal
I wanna be yours pretty baby, yours and yours alone
I'm here to tell ya honey, that I'm bad to the bone
Bad to the bone
B-B-B-B-Bad
B-B-B-B-Bad
B-B-B-B-Bad
Bad to the bone
When I walk the streets, kings and queens step aside
Every woman I meet, they all stay satisfied,
I wanna tell ya pretty baby, what I see I make my own
And I'm here to tell ya honey, that I'm bad to the bone
Bad to the bone
B-B-B-B-Bad
B-B-B-B-Bad
B-B-B-B-Bad
Bad to the bone
One does have to ask the deeper question: Where is the rest of the story? Where are the other lyrics?
The answer to that question is in the song, "Move it on Over"---which I have posted on the upper right side of the blog. Yes, the big old dog came in late after an evening of error, and found the door locked...and ended up sleeping in the doghouse. That is the rest of the story.
Looking back at "Bad to the bone", one sees the humorous and satiric side in George Thorogood---yes the deeper side to those bold lyrics.
Click on the post to read the story about the sculpture that is being unveiled in Brooklyn of Paris Hilton. Just before Prom Weekend.
I do think a thorough lesson plan on the lyrics and music of George Thorogood---Bad to the Bone as well as the "rest of the story" in Move it on Over should be included in the education of every young adult. One does need more than judgment errors to make a good marketing plan.
And yes.
Turn it up real loud. It's better loud.
What George Thorogood could have taught Paris Hilton---On "Bad to the Bone"
Recently I had the occasion to overhear two teens talking and one gal said to another: "I'm getting sick and tired of hearing some girls market their judgment errors as product advantages."
I was still and said nothing. Here was someone who understood what Paris Hilton did not. I speculated that this teen had listened to George Thorogood---ALL of the songs and not just "Bad to the Bone."
Even when one reads the lyrics to Bad to the Bone :
On the day I was born, the nurses all gathered 'round
And they gazed in wide wonder, at the joy they had found
The head nurse spoke up, said leave this one alone
She could tell right away, that I was bad to the bone
Bad to the bone
Bad to the bone
B-B-B-B-Bad
B-B-B-B-Bad
B-B-B-B-Bad
Bad to the bone
I broke a thousand hearts, before I met you
I'll break a thousand more baby, before I am through
I wanna be yours pretty baby, yours and yours alone
I'm here to tell ya honey, that I'm bad to the bone
Bad to the bone
B-B-B-Bad
B-B-B-Bad
B-B-B-Bad
Bad to the bone
I'll make a rich woman beg, and I'll make a good woman steal
I'll make an old woman blush, and make a young girl squeal
I wanna be yours pretty baby, yours and yours alone
I'm here to tell ya honey, that I'm bad to the bone
Bad to the bone
B-B-B-B-Bad
B-B-B-B-Bad
B-B-B-B-Bad
Bad to the bone
When I walk the streets, kings and queens step aside
Every woman I meet, they all stay satisfied,
I wanna tell ya pretty baby, what I see I make my own
And I'm here to tell ya honey, that I'm bad to the bone
Bad to the bone
B-B-B-B-Bad
B-B-B-B-Bad
B-B-B-B-Bad
Bad to the bone
One does have to ask the deeper question: Where is the rest of the story? Where are the other lyrics?
The answer to that question is in the song, "Move it on Over"---which I have posted on the upper right side of the blog. Yes, the big old dog came in late after an evening of error, and found the door locked...and ended up sleeping in the doghouse. That is the rest of the story.
Looking back at "Bad to the bone", one sees the humorous and satiric side in George Thorogood---yes the deeper side to those bold lyrics.
Click on the post to read the story about the sculpture that is being unveiled in Brooklyn of Paris Hilton. Just before Prom Weekend.
I do think a thorough lesson plan on the lyrics and music of George Thorogood---Bad to the Bone as well as the "rest of the story" in Move it on Over should be included in the education of every young adult. One does need more than judgment errors to make a good marketing plan.
And yes.
Turn it up real loud. It's better loud.
Friday, May 4, 2007
Classic Observer: "The Fire Within"
The Fire Within
The other night at the Redevelopment Authority meeting, there was a group of excited folk busy working prior to the meeting. Well. It wasn't the usual adults that attend these sort of meetings. It was the kids of one of the staff members. Right prior to the meeting they were keeping themselves busy coloring pictures on sheets of paper.----Then they compared who had the best picture. And just as the meeting began, the other parent came and the kids left. What a disappointment. A lot of the excitement had just left the room.
I thought to myself when was the last time I had seen such excitement. It sure was infectious. Yes. I had seen it that very morning. I had wandered up to the FFA Plant Sale at the Evansville High School and in the green house had run across Mr. Krake also buying some hanging plants.
Always on the job as The Observer, I asked him, "Well, Mr. Krake, how are the sketches coming? Have you been keeping up the production?"
In a flash he whipped out a small sketch book from his pocket. "As a matter of fact, I have been quite busy, " he said. "These sketches were from a visit to the emergency room yesterday." "The waiting room, that is."
I really liked the sketch of the guy with the glasses, just about my age. Just when I was wondering what the price of the whole little sketch book would be, he left in a hurry to get his plants home.
The excitement. The very same excitement that the kids had demonstrated prior to the Redevelopment meeting was the same excitement that I had seen in Mr. Krake's face as he reviewed his sketches.
Last night was the Evansville High School Awards night, with the presentation of the academic awards and such. There were the usual quotations. The usual best wishes.
The best wish I have as the Observer is that the fire within will still be burning for these graduates 45 years from now as it is today. I hope they will never let anyone, or anything be a cheap bargain for the thing itself. The fire within.
Posted by Evansville Observer at 9:22 AM 0 comments
The other night at the Redevelopment Authority meeting, there was a group of excited folk busy working prior to the meeting. Well. It wasn't the usual adults that attend these sort of meetings. It was the kids of one of the staff members. Right prior to the meeting they were keeping themselves busy coloring pictures on sheets of paper.----Then they compared who had the best picture. And just as the meeting began, the other parent came and the kids left. What a disappointment. A lot of the excitement had just left the room.
I thought to myself when was the last time I had seen such excitement. It sure was infectious. Yes. I had seen it that very morning. I had wandered up to the FFA Plant Sale at the Evansville High School and in the green house had run across Mr. Krake also buying some hanging plants.
Always on the job as The Observer, I asked him, "Well, Mr. Krake, how are the sketches coming? Have you been keeping up the production?"
In a flash he whipped out a small sketch book from his pocket. "As a matter of fact, I have been quite busy, " he said. "These sketches were from a visit to the emergency room yesterday." "The waiting room, that is."
I really liked the sketch of the guy with the glasses, just about my age. Just when I was wondering what the price of the whole little sketch book would be, he left in a hurry to get his plants home.
The excitement. The very same excitement that the kids had demonstrated prior to the Redevelopment meeting was the same excitement that I had seen in Mr. Krake's face as he reviewed his sketches.
Last night was the Evansville High School Awards night, with the presentation of the academic awards and such. There were the usual quotations. The usual best wishes.
The best wish I have as the Observer is that the fire within will still be burning for these graduates 45 years from now as it is today. I hope they will never let anyone, or anything be a cheap bargain for the thing itself. The fire within.
Posted by Evansville Observer at 9:22 AM 0 comments
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
The Story of Julie; Or, "The Ballerina"
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
The Ballerina; Or, the Story of Julie
When Julie was in 7th grade, she came home one day to tell us of a fierce battle with one of her classmates, Adam. Right in the midst of the battle, Mrs. Berg, the music teacher, had spoken pretty directly to them both. She said, "You both are going to be cast opposite each other in lots of plays in the next 6 years, so you better get used to it, and quit fighting. " She was right.
For five years, Adam and Julie had major parts in lots of plays at school. Julie, who juat a few years prior had been so excited with ballet, now had her sights set on being a STAR. Not just in Wisconsin, but excuse me, in New York. Big Time.
In her senior year, she was cast in a play with lots of singing. No problem. The week of the play, however, she came down with a severe case of bronchitis.. Her doctor felt that due to the overuse of pharmacy in cases such as this that might in the long-term cause Julie to not respond to antibiotics, just herbal medicine would have to do and the virus should just run its course. In short---Julie lost her voice. The actors scrambled to adjust. A fellow cast member sang many of Julie's songs. She did just wonderfully.
At the award ceremony, this fellow actress took the BEST ACTRESS award. Julie was crushed. Dashed were the dreams of fame and stardom. As parents, we tried to tell her of some silver lining in it all. Julie was not buying any silver lining.
Julie did go into Psychology and is happily employed in California. The BEST ACTRESS went to school in Iowa and majored in Theatre.
Sometimes the Lord works in strange ways.
Posted by Evansville Observer at 9:33 AM
The Ballerina; Or, the Story of Julie
When Julie was in 7th grade, she came home one day to tell us of a fierce battle with one of her classmates, Adam. Right in the midst of the battle, Mrs. Berg, the music teacher, had spoken pretty directly to them both. She said, "You both are going to be cast opposite each other in lots of plays in the next 6 years, so you better get used to it, and quit fighting. " She was right.
For five years, Adam and Julie had major parts in lots of plays at school. Julie, who juat a few years prior had been so excited with ballet, now had her sights set on being a STAR. Not just in Wisconsin, but excuse me, in New York. Big Time.
In her senior year, she was cast in a play with lots of singing. No problem. The week of the play, however, she came down with a severe case of bronchitis.. Her doctor felt that due to the overuse of pharmacy in cases such as this that might in the long-term cause Julie to not respond to antibiotics, just herbal medicine would have to do and the virus should just run its course. In short---Julie lost her voice. The actors scrambled to adjust. A fellow cast member sang many of Julie's songs. She did just wonderfully.
At the award ceremony, this fellow actress took the BEST ACTRESS award. Julie was crushed. Dashed were the dreams of fame and stardom. As parents, we tried to tell her of some silver lining in it all. Julie was not buying any silver lining.
Julie did go into Psychology and is happily employed in California. The BEST ACTRESS went to school in Iowa and majored in Theatre.
Sometimes the Lord works in strange ways.
Posted by Evansville Observer at 9:33 AM
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Nostalgia: (Sept, 2005)--- "The Power of Positive Thinking"
Thursday, September 01, 2005
The Power of Positive Thinking;
When I attended college, I lived with my grandmother, "Nana" ,in St. Paul, in a home my grandfather, Michael Woulfe, had built in 1912... identical to the one on East Main that I live in today. When I moved from White Bear Lake to live with her, she was 81.
One day I happened to mention to her that I had seen some of those old fashioned black, large, square heeled, shoes that she wore on sale at Dayton's. Anyone, who is familiar with the shoe styles of the 1890's is familiar with the style of these shoes. "Nana" had worn these shoes for a long time...she had made them last ...for at least 15 years. Anyway, I noted the size and she agreed that she needed a new pair.
As I was getting in the car to leave, she came out to the porch, waving wildly, like something was very, very wrong. She had recently had a heart attack and I feared for the worse. Quickly, I shut the car off and rushed up to the porch. "What's wrong, Nana?"
"Get two pair," she shouted.
Posted by Evansville Observer at 3:20 PM
The Power of Positive Thinking;
When I attended college, I lived with my grandmother, "Nana" ,in St. Paul, in a home my grandfather, Michael Woulfe, had built in 1912... identical to the one on East Main that I live in today. When I moved from White Bear Lake to live with her, she was 81.
One day I happened to mention to her that I had seen some of those old fashioned black, large, square heeled, shoes that she wore on sale at Dayton's. Anyone, who is familiar with the shoe styles of the 1890's is familiar with the style of these shoes. "Nana" had worn these shoes for a long time...she had made them last ...for at least 15 years. Anyway, I noted the size and she agreed that she needed a new pair.
As I was getting in the car to leave, she came out to the porch, waving wildly, like something was very, very wrong. She had recently had a heart attack and I feared for the worse. Quickly, I shut the car off and rushed up to the porch. "What's wrong, Nana?"
"Get two pair," she shouted.
Posted by Evansville Observer at 3:20 PM
Nostalgia: (June 2006): "Never Underestimate the Power of a Broom"
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
"Never Underestimate the Power of a Broom"
One morning when I was five yr. old, I went to my grandmothers apartment for toast---she had one of those toasters with the sides that manually flipped down----and I just loved raisen bread---it did require a special touch or you burned it. It was soo good.
While I was there, the oil burner man, from Holmen Oil in White Bear Lake came to fill the tank. When he was through, I heard a commotion in the front hall----it seems he had not told Nana that the price of oil had risen and had told her after the fact. She was just a little upset. She grabbed the broom and chased him out of the apartment.
Yes----with the distraction and all, the toast burned. I quickly unplugged the toaster.
I never have forgotten the scene that morn. When someone cheats you, have the self respect to fight for your rights---if you don't----nobody will.
Nana was so mild mannered. She did handle the broom pretty well though.
In these modern times, it is tough to get a broad sword like Zena Warrior Princess, or a laser or a samauri sword. Still....the broom is still available.
Posted by Evansville Observer at 3:03 PM
"Never Underestimate the Power of a Broom"
One morning when I was five yr. old, I went to my grandmothers apartment for toast---she had one of those toasters with the sides that manually flipped down----and I just loved raisen bread---it did require a special touch or you burned it. It was soo good.
While I was there, the oil burner man, from Holmen Oil in White Bear Lake came to fill the tank. When he was through, I heard a commotion in the front hall----it seems he had not told Nana that the price of oil had risen and had told her after the fact. She was just a little upset. She grabbed the broom and chased him out of the apartment.
Yes----with the distraction and all, the toast burned. I quickly unplugged the toaster.
I never have forgotten the scene that morn. When someone cheats you, have the self respect to fight for your rights---if you don't----nobody will.
Nana was so mild mannered. She did handle the broom pretty well though.
In these modern times, it is tough to get a broad sword like Zena Warrior Princess, or a laser or a samauri sword. Still....the broom is still available.
Posted by Evansville Observer at 3:03 PM
Nostalgia: (Sept, 2005): "The Day My Name Changed"
Thursday, September 01, 2005
The Day My Name Changed; Or, the coffee is ready.
As I have written of previously, during my college years, I lived in St. Paul with my grandmother. My dad had grown up in the vintage four square home on Dayton, similiar to the one I own today. My dad, Tom, was the only son of Michael Woulfe and Alice Barnes Woulfe, his first wife having passed away after giving him 4 sons.
One day, in my Junior year, I arrived home to find an ambulance in front. Shocked, I went inside. There was our friends, Buck and Betty Meyers, as well as a doctor. The doctor told me that Nana had had a slight heart attact and possibly a stroke, but was resting comfortably. Nana was very detrmined NOT to leave home and he had given her some aspirin. He said this was really all the treatment she would get at the hospital in 1967, and that I should just watch her closely and if I needed anything there would be a nurse that would come by in a couple of days.
I had a full course load in those days, as well as worked 20 hours a week, so I wondered how I could function without Nana. That night, as I listend to her breathe, I went over all I knew about health care. Pretty limited. Anyway, the future seemed at the end of each breath. It was a long night.
Then the alarm went off as it always did at 5:30AM. The Steve Cannon radio show on WCCO began. The usual cast of characters, Steve, and his impersonated characters, Ma Linger, Morgan Mondaigne, and Lash Laroo were all there that morn. Steve impersonated all of them. Ma Linger was the 80 year old woman who was always out all night carousing. Nana would talk every morn about Ma Linger. Marveling how she could keep up such a furious pace.
After the alarm went off and the Cannon program began, I heard the shoes, Nana's loud black shoes. Something was different though. They were louder. And after thinking about it, I realized that she had not tied them.
Then, I heard her voice. Just like always.
"The coffee is ready, Tom. ....
In a heartbeat, I made the adjustment. "OK, Nana, I am almost ready. I will be there in a second. From that day on, I was "Tom" and that was cool. I never had the heart to tell her the truth about Ma Linger.
Posted by Evansville Observer at 6:43 PM
The Day My Name Changed; Or, the coffee is ready.
As I have written of previously, during my college years, I lived in St. Paul with my grandmother. My dad had grown up in the vintage four square home on Dayton, similiar to the one I own today. My dad, Tom, was the only son of Michael Woulfe and Alice Barnes Woulfe, his first wife having passed away after giving him 4 sons.
One day, in my Junior year, I arrived home to find an ambulance in front. Shocked, I went inside. There was our friends, Buck and Betty Meyers, as well as a doctor. The doctor told me that Nana had had a slight heart attact and possibly a stroke, but was resting comfortably. Nana was very detrmined NOT to leave home and he had given her some aspirin. He said this was really all the treatment she would get at the hospital in 1967, and that I should just watch her closely and if I needed anything there would be a nurse that would come by in a couple of days.
I had a full course load in those days, as well as worked 20 hours a week, so I wondered how I could function without Nana. That night, as I listend to her breathe, I went over all I knew about health care. Pretty limited. Anyway, the future seemed at the end of each breath. It was a long night.
Then the alarm went off as it always did at 5:30AM. The Steve Cannon radio show on WCCO began. The usual cast of characters, Steve, and his impersonated characters, Ma Linger, Morgan Mondaigne, and Lash Laroo were all there that morn. Steve impersonated all of them. Ma Linger was the 80 year old woman who was always out all night carousing. Nana would talk every morn about Ma Linger. Marveling how she could keep up such a furious pace.
After the alarm went off and the Cannon program began, I heard the shoes, Nana's loud black shoes. Something was different though. They were louder. And after thinking about it, I realized that she had not tied them.
Then, I heard her voice. Just like always.
"The coffee is ready, Tom. ....
In a heartbeat, I made the adjustment. "OK, Nana, I am almost ready. I will be there in a second. From that day on, I was "Tom" and that was cool. I never had the heart to tell her the truth about Ma Linger.
Posted by Evansville Observer at 6:43 PM
Nostalgia: (July 2006) ---"Age is in Your Mind"
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Age is in your mind
In my college days, I had the habit of sending out my shirts to the dry cleaners. We lacked a washer and dryer and it seemed convenient. I loved the white shirt and sport coat look and also the sweater look. Ah the preppie years.
One day Nana, who was 86, went to the door and came back and said that "there is an old man at the door that wants to see you." I never had people coming to see me, much less old men, so I rushed to the door.
It was just the dry cleaner man delivering my shirts. He was about 50YR old. He was a little red faced and it was in the high 90's for tempurature. O.K., he might have been drinking also, but.....
I suddenly realized that my Grandmother had no sense of age whatsoever. For her, age was relative.
Then I realized something else. There were no mirrors in her house.
Go and do likewise.
Posted by Evansville Observer at 11:15 AM
Age is in your mind
In my college days, I had the habit of sending out my shirts to the dry cleaners. We lacked a washer and dryer and it seemed convenient. I loved the white shirt and sport coat look and also the sweater look. Ah the preppie years.
One day Nana, who was 86, went to the door and came back and said that "there is an old man at the door that wants to see you." I never had people coming to see me, much less old men, so I rushed to the door.
It was just the dry cleaner man delivering my shirts. He was about 50YR old. He was a little red faced and it was in the high 90's for tempurature. O.K., he might have been drinking also, but.....
I suddenly realized that my Grandmother had no sense of age whatsoever. For her, age was relative.
Then I realized something else. There were no mirrors in her house.
Go and do likewise.
Posted by Evansville Observer at 11:15 AM
Nostalgia: (Sept, 2005): " Let's Keep Everything Just the Way it Was"
Thursday, September 01, 2005
"Let's keep everything just the way it was."
In my college years, I lived with my grandmother in St. Paul, in a home just like my home on East Main. It was in the suburbs in 1912, at the end of the trolly line, though it is in the inner city now.
One Sunday, my dad drove me in from White Bear Lake for the move. He said, "Nana likes things just the way they were when Grandpa died. Just remember----- it is her house." "O.K., I said," " No problem."
This was in 1963. Grandpa had died in 1930. The victrola in the corner of the living room looked right out of an FDR fireside chat. The radio dial was on a AM station that had died years ago. I expected any minute a breaking bulletin announcing a further chapter in the Pacific war. Anyway, all the wallpaper was mint original. True Historic Preservation stuff. The rugs were all oriental. And of course the floors were oak and the sliding pocket doors really slid hard, since nobody knew how to adjust them anymore.
The furniture was the problem--the living room furniture was vintage 1920's, but the springs had been shot for at least 30 years. So, nobody could sit on them or a serious back injury would result. The dining room furniture was useful since it was all oak
.
Nana had a story for everything. Yes, the green historic lighting was ok outside, but not as grand as when the "lamplighters" used to come each night on the wagon and reach up and light the kerosene lamps with a wick. Now that was grand.
Years later, I learned that folks occasionally react to loss that way. They will want to keep things just the way they were. There is therapy for it now. No need for a person to suffer that way....fixed in time and not being truly alive.
At the Homecoming Parade in Evansville this year, I had the opportunity to watch the parade from the true center of the Historic District. What a glorious day of fall colors. The residents I spoke too, however, were not too jovial. They had just gotten their assessments for being Historic and the assessments had gone sky high. They pleaded with me, "Can't we just be old and not "Historic?"
"NO, I replied," "That cannot be." We are old on East Main and proud of it. You are Historic. You have to keep things just the way they were."
"Let's keep everything just the way it was."
In my college years, I lived with my grandmother in St. Paul, in a home just like my home on East Main. It was in the suburbs in 1912, at the end of the trolly line, though it is in the inner city now.
One Sunday, my dad drove me in from White Bear Lake for the move. He said, "Nana likes things just the way they were when Grandpa died. Just remember----- it is her house." "O.K., I said," " No problem."
This was in 1963. Grandpa had died in 1930. The victrola in the corner of the living room looked right out of an FDR fireside chat. The radio dial was on a AM station that had died years ago. I expected any minute a breaking bulletin announcing a further chapter in the Pacific war. Anyway, all the wallpaper was mint original. True Historic Preservation stuff. The rugs were all oriental. And of course the floors were oak and the sliding pocket doors really slid hard, since nobody knew how to adjust them anymore.
The furniture was the problem--the living room furniture was vintage 1920's, but the springs had been shot for at least 30 years. So, nobody could sit on them or a serious back injury would result. The dining room furniture was useful since it was all oak
.
Nana had a story for everything. Yes, the green historic lighting was ok outside, but not as grand as when the "lamplighters" used to come each night on the wagon and reach up and light the kerosene lamps with a wick. Now that was grand.
Years later, I learned that folks occasionally react to loss that way. They will want to keep things just the way they were. There is therapy for it now. No need for a person to suffer that way....fixed in time and not being truly alive.
At the Homecoming Parade in Evansville this year, I had the opportunity to watch the parade from the true center of the Historic District. What a glorious day of fall colors. The residents I spoke too, however, were not too jovial. They had just gotten their assessments for being Historic and the assessments had gone sky high. They pleaded with me, "Can't we just be old and not "Historic?"
"NO, I replied," "That cannot be." We are old on East Main and proud of it. You are Historic. You have to keep things just the way they were."
Nostalgia: (11/2005) Why Due Process Matters; Or, The Coincidence of Opposites
Thursday, November 17, 2005
The Coincidence of Opposites; Or, Why Due Process matters
In any dialogue, in any debate, in any reflection, there are two sides. Two points of view. From ancient times it has been known that the secret of wisdom is getting to the thing that unites them, the central thing they share. This is the "coincidencia oppositorum" or just simply the coincidence of opposites. Once you understand what this is, you can understand how to get beyond it.
You all know this. I say it's hot. She says it's cold. The thing that unites ---- the evaluation of life by temperature. There is more. To get to the more, you get separate heated seats or blankets or whatever. O.K.
This coicidence of opposites is why the US Military Lawyers are so insistent on the Geneva Convention. The enemy says all tactics, all terror is available. We say there is a code of conduct. Once we say everything is on the table, we are them. And, we lose. The thing that makes us free is the dignity we live by. That is why the Pentagon rank and file and all veterans want the Geneva Convention upheld. That is why John McCain, the war prisoner, is leading the way for a prohibition against terror tactics by the U.S. Military.
So, it is also that in all violence and abuse of power---- Whether it is local or national, the tendency is for the victim of abuse of power to turn to the same tactic. That is why the U.S. has the concept of due process. That is why we have the rule of law and not tribal eye for eye justice. Something to think about.
The Coincidence of Opposites; Or, Why Due Process matters
In any dialogue, in any debate, in any reflection, there are two sides. Two points of view. From ancient times it has been known that the secret of wisdom is getting to the thing that unites them, the central thing they share. This is the "coincidencia oppositorum" or just simply the coincidence of opposites. Once you understand what this is, you can understand how to get beyond it.
You all know this. I say it's hot. She says it's cold. The thing that unites ---- the evaluation of life by temperature. There is more. To get to the more, you get separate heated seats or blankets or whatever. O.K.
This coicidence of opposites is why the US Military Lawyers are so insistent on the Geneva Convention. The enemy says all tactics, all terror is available. We say there is a code of conduct. Once we say everything is on the table, we are them. And, we lose. The thing that makes us free is the dignity we live by. That is why the Pentagon rank and file and all veterans want the Geneva Convention upheld. That is why John McCain, the war prisoner, is leading the way for a prohibition against terror tactics by the U.S. Military.
So, it is also that in all violence and abuse of power---- Whether it is local or national, the tendency is for the victim of abuse of power to turn to the same tactic. That is why the U.S. has the concept of due process. That is why we have the rule of law and not tribal eye for eye justice. Something to think about.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Automatic For the People----NOT
There was an album by REM about a decade ago titled, "Automatic for The People." I always liked the title, but cannot remember much about the songs in it. Recently as I have configured several blogs, The Evansville Observer, and her sister blog, The Minnesota Observer to RSS feed to handle national news feeds, I have observed that the news media has followed the path of AM radio of years ago, where we could hear Wolfman Jack syndicated through many radio stations around America and never know where he really was. Today we can read automated news stories and never really know much more ----like whether the facts in the stories are really CORRECT.
That point was make clear to me last week when I posted some minutes from Orfordville and only Grumps pointed out to me that the minutes were from 2004 and where not recent. I had not noticed....having gone to a robotlike clip and paste mode myself.
Gone are the days of Edward R Murrow---It is not Good night and Good Luck any More. It is more like "Tough Luck." There are no writers that are paid for, or at least what they were years ago and there are not fact checkers---Only maybe "Grumps" and "Wolfman Jack" remain.
We are on Automatic----and not FOR the People. But AGAINST the People.
So. Maybe we need to be a little less reliant on Windows--of any version and just open the window and get some fresh air. And maybe taking a little time to check the transcript of the audio or the video might produce some surprise as to the accuracy of the stories we think are so easy to digest.
That point was make clear to me last week when I posted some minutes from Orfordville and only Grumps pointed out to me that the minutes were from 2004 and where not recent. I had not noticed....having gone to a robotlike clip and paste mode myself.
Gone are the days of Edward R Murrow---It is not Good night and Good Luck any More. It is more like "Tough Luck." There are no writers that are paid for, or at least what they were years ago and there are not fact checkers---Only maybe "Grumps" and "Wolfman Jack" remain.
We are on Automatic----and not FOR the People. But AGAINST the People.
So. Maybe we need to be a little less reliant on Windows--of any version and just open the window and get some fresh air. And maybe taking a little time to check the transcript of the audio or the video might produce some surprise as to the accuracy of the stories we think are so easy to digest.
Sunday, April 8, 2007
The Point----the poem
Point
is
where the
action
is
Point
is where the
contact begins,
where the
future
begins
Point
is where
life
begins
and
ends
Point
is where the
bullets
fly
and the screams
end
Point is
for
courage
and fear
combined
I'm gettin
tired
of point
somehow
tired of the
death and
mounds of
bodies
Tired of
the gazers too
scared to
lead
Point
is where the
death
and
rebirth
happens
Point is where
the
leaders
reign
is
where the
action
is
Point
is where the
contact begins,
where the
future
begins
Point
is where
life
begins
and
ends
Point
is where the
bullets
fly
and the screams
end
Point is
for
courage
and fear
combined
I'm gettin
tired
of point
somehow
tired of the
death and
mounds of
bodies
Tired of
the gazers too
scared to
lead
Point
is where the
death
and
rebirth
happens
Point is where
the
leaders
reign
Saturday, April 7, 2007
The Leader of the Pack---a true story
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
Leader of the Pack
(Ed.note. Evansville cross country has begun training. Be careful driving since their training runs are on city roads. In honor of the winning tradition of Evansville cross country, I have reprinted the classic, "Leader of the Pack." from Feb. 2006)
Some years ago, there was a magical period in boy's cross country at Evansville High School when there were 5 fast and talented male runners and Evansville had a chance to go to the State Championship Round. As you may remember, the first three ran in a pack---Mike Thornton, Jay Marin and Justin Frey.
The Observer knows because his task was to stand at the first mile marker and call out the mile split. For Mike Thornton, if he was running the first mile at 5.04 that meant that he was right on target. Jay Marin needed be be next on his shoulder, and then Justin Frey a step behind. It was like clockwork. What a dream first three runners.
The following year, the burden of leading the races passed to Jay Marin. Now it was he who had to hit the split perfectly. One of the things I noticed as a parent of a cross country runner is that just before the race, the leaders, such as Ann Knutson or Jay Marin, intensely feel the burden of leading. They frequently throw up. They wonder whether they still have it for the race. The desire. Well, everything. It is not guaranteed. They know that the past is gone. It is up to them. Now.
One race, the boys were wearing special t-shirts with goofy sayings on the back. Some were even wearing goofy sayings on their shorts. Some were wearing colored socks. They were laughing and giggling a bit about it.
One boy went up to Jay and said, "Jay, which of the t-shirts do you like best?"
Jay replied, "Listen----I plan on LEADING this race. I don't give a (------) about what is written on your shorts."
When you are a LEADER, the key thing is to LEAD, not to listen or glance about being distracted by the titter of the crowd or whatever is written on others butts. Being in front is special. One has to keep the head up high. Looking to the future.
Make a note of it.
Leader of the Pack
(Ed.note. Evansville cross country has begun training. Be careful driving since their training runs are on city roads. In honor of the winning tradition of Evansville cross country, I have reprinted the classic, "Leader of the Pack." from Feb. 2006)
Some years ago, there was a magical period in boy's cross country at Evansville High School when there were 5 fast and talented male runners and Evansville had a chance to go to the State Championship Round. As you may remember, the first three ran in a pack---Mike Thornton, Jay Marin and Justin Frey.
The Observer knows because his task was to stand at the first mile marker and call out the mile split. For Mike Thornton, if he was running the first mile at 5.04 that meant that he was right on target. Jay Marin needed be be next on his shoulder, and then Justin Frey a step behind. It was like clockwork. What a dream first three runners.
The following year, the burden of leading the races passed to Jay Marin. Now it was he who had to hit the split perfectly. One of the things I noticed as a parent of a cross country runner is that just before the race, the leaders, such as Ann Knutson or Jay Marin, intensely feel the burden of leading. They frequently throw up. They wonder whether they still have it for the race. The desire. Well, everything. It is not guaranteed. They know that the past is gone. It is up to them. Now.
One race, the boys were wearing special t-shirts with goofy sayings on the back. Some were even wearing goofy sayings on their shorts. Some were wearing colored socks. They were laughing and giggling a bit about it.
One boy went up to Jay and said, "Jay, which of the t-shirts do you like best?"
Jay replied, "Listen----I plan on LEADING this race. I don't give a (------) about what is written on your shorts."
When you are a LEADER, the key thing is to LEAD, not to listen or glance about being distracted by the titter of the crowd or whatever is written on others butts. Being in front is special. One has to keep the head up high. Looking to the future.
Make a note of it.
Friday, April 6, 2007
On the Deeper Meaning of Brick: What Brick Means to me
Thursday, September 01, 2005
What "Brick" means to me; Or, On the deeper meaning of "brick.";Or, the story of the big bad wolf
When I was in high school, a few years ago, we had a great football team. The cornerstone of that team was a lineman, who we called "The Brick." Whenever the game was on the line, the stakes high, nobody got through the line when the "Brick" was there. We relied on him. He was always there for us.
It is those kind of people, the "Bricks", that we rely on as a society also. I remember well the famous city council meeting where we were confronted with one of the most pressing needs facing the growing city of Evansville---a drive thru liquor window.
In the city council meeting, one council member pointed out that the problem of liquor was one that affected every family in Evansville and it was certainly not on any reasonable list of needs that we needed a drive-thru. Finally, he said, "Is there no person here who will stand with me in recognizing that this is not in the best interests of Evansville?" Not one person responded. I was in the audience and did not respond and regret it to this day.
That is what "Bricks" do. They stand up to the winds of the big bad wolf who threatens to blow the house down. Bricks are strong and courageous.
Thus, the Observer is somewhat dismayed to hear that in the current assessment of homes in Evansville, if a home is made of "brick" it is instantly "historic." I can assure you I never learned such a rule in college. "Historic preservation" is really a legal, historical term and not one that can be simply assigned to "brick." It is not something that we may have overlooked and have to search for in the panic that maybe we have missed something precious. Excuse me.
So, I celebrate "Brick" whenever I find it. Not on the exterior. Not historic. Just the human brick that is the courage we need so much in our community.
Posted by Evansville Observer at 4:13 PM
What "Brick" means to me; Or, On the deeper meaning of "brick.";Or, the story of the big bad wolf
When I was in high school, a few years ago, we had a great football team. The cornerstone of that team was a lineman, who we called "The Brick." Whenever the game was on the line, the stakes high, nobody got through the line when the "Brick" was there. We relied on him. He was always there for us.
It is those kind of people, the "Bricks", that we rely on as a society also. I remember well the famous city council meeting where we were confronted with one of the most pressing needs facing the growing city of Evansville---a drive thru liquor window.
In the city council meeting, one council member pointed out that the problem of liquor was one that affected every family in Evansville and it was certainly not on any reasonable list of needs that we needed a drive-thru. Finally, he said, "Is there no person here who will stand with me in recognizing that this is not in the best interests of Evansville?" Not one person responded. I was in the audience and did not respond and regret it to this day.
That is what "Bricks" do. They stand up to the winds of the big bad wolf who threatens to blow the house down. Bricks are strong and courageous.
Thus, the Observer is somewhat dismayed to hear that in the current assessment of homes in Evansville, if a home is made of "brick" it is instantly "historic." I can assure you I never learned such a rule in college. "Historic preservation" is really a legal, historical term and not one that can be simply assigned to "brick." It is not something that we may have overlooked and have to search for in the panic that maybe we have missed something precious. Excuse me.
So, I celebrate "Brick" whenever I find it. Not on the exterior. Not historic. Just the human brick that is the courage we need so much in our community.
Posted by Evansville Observer at 4:13 PM
'Why Sgt Schultz is not a Timeless Role Model-----
In Praise of "Hogans Heros or; Why Sgt. Schultz is not a timeless role model
As a youngster, each day after school I rushed home to watch Hogan's Heros. Each day the forces of American freedom fighters matched wits with the totalitarian Nazi regime and won. In each episode too, the notorious Sgt. Schultz could save the day. He saw no thing! He heard no thing! He was my hero. It was just the time of day when after a strenuous day at school, doing nothing and thinking nothing was just what I needed and to think that it could be part of the freedom movement was just perfect.
Recently, I have mused with others how easy it is to avoid knowing, avoid seeing and above all, avoid doing anything about the events around us. It seems to be very easy. Very safe. Very Sgt. Schultz like.
I guess my role model, the wonderful Sgt. Schultz just could not be a role model for me for adulthood. I still really liked the show though.
Posted by Evansville Observer at 2:56 PM
As a youngster, each day after school I rushed home to watch Hogan's Heros. Each day the forces of American freedom fighters matched wits with the totalitarian Nazi regime and won. In each episode too, the notorious Sgt. Schultz could save the day. He saw no thing! He heard no thing! He was my hero. It was just the time of day when after a strenuous day at school, doing nothing and thinking nothing was just what I needed and to think that it could be part of the freedom movement was just perfect.
Recently, I have mused with others how easy it is to avoid knowing, avoid seeing and above all, avoid doing anything about the events around us. It seems to be very easy. Very safe. Very Sgt. Schultz like.
I guess my role model, the wonderful Sgt. Schultz just could not be a role model for me for adulthood. I still really liked the show though.
Posted by Evansville Observer at 2:56 PM
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
Memories of John Jones
Memories of John Jones: Or why the equipment does not make the muscles;On why laws don't make freedom of speech or assembly--people do
Many of you may remember John Jones, the owner of Jones Barbells on Union Street. He was an avid flyer, a flight instructor and a weight lifter known nationally by his plane with the Jones Barbell logo on it. He was the son of a World War II ace pilot.
There are many John Jones stories. He was a very simple and direct and honest person. Sometimes disturbingly so for high and mighty types. John was most at home in his welding overalls with the top glass shield that he retracted, like Dark Helmet, when he came from the back welding area to help a customer. He loved welding, and selling was just extra.
Back in 1990 I wandered into the shop to see his weight equipment and explained to the big guy that I had been a long distance runner in my youth, and a slow one at that, but needed to regain my leg strength.
He said not a word. He just waved me to follow him back to the leg press section of the display room. He showed me his patented leg press machine, the one that had the special safety and he designed to prevent back injuries. I was an easy sale.
As I cleared out my storage chest recently of the many race t-shirts over the years, I had to smile. John never said that my dream of running again was crazy, like most of the relatives. He just showed me what was necessary.Everything was on a handshake with John. His word was good. I would buy everything he had eventually.
Finally, when I asked about some new piece, he quietly said, "Dick, you just need to use what you have. It's up to you, not the equipment."
That was just what I needed to hear then. To those of you that attended the recent peace vigil, I applaud your showing up to express your opinion by free assembly. To those who take the other side, I applaud your right to express it.
The question is not for those who show up. The question I have is ----Who is the real Observer. Is it me?
I think not.
I have to write a bit each day with my name on it. The observers are those who just log on to observe what the rest are talking about. I know because I get the traffic reports.
John Jones told me something that I did not want to hear. The equipment was not going to get the muscles. It was up to me.
To those who are just observing, think about expressing yourself without fear. Think about telling a friend about The Evansville Observer. The Observer is not about me. It is really about the comments. It's about the discussion. The Observer is just a place to talk. A place to chat about possiblities. It is only going to be what you, the observers, make it.
Posted by Evansville Observer at 10:08 AM
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