Overheard at My Wife's 20th High School Renunion

Tall, blonde, beautiful former cheerleader from wealthy family to a gay man. Spoken with sincerity:

"You know, apparently some people didn't have a good experience in high school."

You think so?

# # #

Important Song Lyrics

Popular Musicians Can Teach You So Much! Here are some "nuggets" that I have found very deep and meaningful for my life! Maybe they can help you, too! They sure do help me!

"Sad songs say so much," Elton John. They do don't they? Much more than the happy ones.

"She steals like a thief but she's always a woman to me," Billy Joel. Billy Joel has a whole lot of what I like to call 'advice songs.' These have been very meaningful to me. I'm not sure what this one means. Perhaps women don't usually steal.

"Honesty. It's such a lonely word..." That's our friend Billy Joel again. I often feel quite lonely. Honest!

"But when you're born to run, it's so hard to just so down," Stevie Winwood. So true. I probably wasn't born to run, but I've kept this in mind!

Does anybody really know what time it is? Does anybody really care? If so I can’t imagine why? We’ve all got time enough to cry," Chicago. It took a band like Chicago to ask this timeless question. And to answer it. Indeed, we do all have time enough to cry, and shouldn't that be enough?

"I want a new drug...One that won’t make me sick...One that won’t make me crash my car...Or make me feel three feet thick..." Huey Lewis and the News. I think of this nugget as everytime I take my anti-anxiety medicine. Hee hee!

I'll probably think of more tomorrow! Oboy!

# # #

Folk Music

Folk music. The music of the folk. Storytellers. Tellin' stories.

If I could choose a new career, right now, money no object, I'd be a folk singer. And I'd move on this right away, if not for my distinct lack of talent on the guitar and ability to carry a tune further than I could throw one. Oh, and the fact that I write songs almost daily in the car on the way to work...with lyrics that are forgotten almost as soon as they are composed.

Be that as it may, I've come to realize that there is a whole population out there of middle class folk who lack folk music telling ther story of said folk. Woody Guthrie covered the Depression-era dust bowl, and a host of unwashed, pale, wide-eyed, patched-jeans wearing folkies covered the Baby Boom in all of its Magical Youth.

But where, oh where, is the musical chronicler of the modern office worker. The dull-eyed, fresh-air deprived worker who once counted on lifetime employment in loco parentis from his company now at the mercy of efficiency experts, automation and the rising tide of highly competent foreigners happy to do his job at a more reasonable rate for the shareholders.

I've only heard one song about an office layoff -- Ben Folds' "Fred Jones, Pt 2", a song as emotionally fraught as any for those of us who aren't sure what 'added value' they bring to make themselves irreplacable:

There was no party, there were no songs

'Cause today's just a day like the day that he started

Noone has left here that knows his first name

And life barrels on like a runaway train

Where the passengers change

They don't change anything

You get off; someone else can get on

And I'm sorry, Mr. Jones

It's time.

It's hard when you're so close to it. I'd squirm if I heard a singer wailing,

"Outsourced...what a terrible way to be...

Outsourced! Why'd it happen to me?

I gave all I had for the company,

now they've shifted my job off to New Delhi..."

Ouch.

Or maybe, if the lyrics were a lot better (and I meat A LOT better), like those Depression-era grape pickers in California gathered around the tractor trailer, you'd find people gathering around on the sidewalks downtown, munching on their Vienna Beef hotdogs and nodding their heads and smiling...knowing that someone out there knows what they're thinking could happen any day... and maybe a few more people will try a little harder to be irreplaceable.

Or decide it's time to see what that old dream was all about...

# # #

Impending...in the Dells!

No, no real disasters impending... but I'm blogging today from the gloriously tasteful environs of the Wisconsin Dells. A long-overdue family vacation, since I'm hopelessly burnt out at work...this may or may not help...I will admit to checking my work email here at the Route 12 Internet Cafe...my reward is...ta da!...I get to blog!

Getting here, was, as usual, half the fun ... a 3.5 hour drive from Minneapolis turned into about 6 hours, during which we were forced to pull over on I-94 due to a blinding rainstorm (and a near panic over my driving from a certain passenger...who insists that I was far closer to hitting that motorcycle than I possibly could have been...really! No...really!). We started driving again, and discovered we were still rain-blind, but were able to see well enough to inch the car to an off ramp and, as if called by a divine power, into the parking lot of a Burger King with a Play Place. Two cookies, one milkshake, a pair of Spider-Man goggles and a mini Optimus Prime Transformer, three bathroom breaks and one-and-a-half hours later we were back on the road.
If you've never been to the Dells, think Branson, MO, without the southern-fried tacky. More midwestern tacky...or... oh hell...it's hard to be cynical and aloof when you and your wife have three kids, five-and-under, in tow... When you have three kids, what's tacky about Pirate's Cove Mini-Golf? Or the Ripley's Believe it Not Museum? Or the Tommy Bartlett Water Show? Or the castle-themed Camelot Hotel, chosen to replace the campsite that was no doubt washed away in today's storms, which uses a castle shaped facade -- admittedly successful at delighting the kids -- to hide a perfectly lousy hotel where the wife and kids are trying to sleep while I -- assuming the traditional male role of hunter-gatherer -- head to the Wal-Mart for morning vittles -- a cereal variety pack, milk, bread and a squeeze bottle of jelly.

So, my loyal reader or two...wish me luck... in mending my jaded spirit...in fogetting the cares of the office...in relaxing enough to have a little fun...in getting a little sleep...and in stalking and capturing a delicious squeezable bottle of jelly before Wal-Mart shuts down for the night. It'll be a close one.

# # #

If I Were a SuperHero

I've been relying on the esteemed Prof. Scott Tipton to revive my knowledge of the past two decades of Marvel and DC superhero history, further fueling my descent into fantasy universes I'd left behind for friends and women.

More productive, perhaps, is that my five-year-old son wants to start a company with me, one that would publish comics and make superhero movies. We've created quite the superhero universe already...he takes them quite seriously. But he's also come up with some rather ... odd ... heroes...that would make for fun stories:

STATUE MAN! He's able to stand completely still...like a statue!

ODDBALL! He's big and fat and round, and he can...what exactly can he do?

DINO SIX! A member of the Fantastic Six, Dino Six can turn into any dinosaur. Or, any part of a dinosaur. Like with a Tyrannosaurus head and Stegasaurus tail and Triceratops' horns. A formidable hero.

YELLOW LIGHT! He can look into the sun...without blinking or hurting his eyes! Very useful, because his bad guys hide in the sun!

SLOW MOTION MAN! He's so coooool! He moves extreeemleeeeeeyyyy sloooowwwwwleeeeeeey...

# # #

One Minute Story: "Desperation"

He couldn't get rid of the feeling that there was so much left undone. It gnawed at his stomach, souring the fluids where he supposed his brain floated, untethered from his mind.

It was all very juvenile, really. Stack the boxes on the shelf. Check to be sure that the labels faced the aisle and like products were grouped helpfully together.

And the crates were empty and the labels were grouped, helpfully, and faced the aisles in a stunning display of All-American plenty. And yet, Jonathan sat on the floor and clutched his stomach, thinking of all that was left undone.

A cart peeked around the the aisle, followed by the slow shuffle of an older lady seeking Matzo ball soup mix, which was nearly invisible amongst the more gentile offerings. Then a boy of five or so rounded the corner, laughing. He stopped and ran back the way he came, his voice echoing across the aisle: "There's a grown-up on the floor over there. He has brown skin."

"Is he OK?" a woman asked.

"He's just sitting," the boy said.

"OK...you know, it really doesn't matter that he has brown skin, Jason."

"I know," Jason said.

But it does matter, doesn't it? Something has to matter, or nothing does, he thought. He thought about what his manager said that morning, when Jonathan asked him why his manager's new boss was arranging interviews with each employee.

"He wants to get a feel for morale. And productivity."

"Why?"

"Because that's what managers do."

"I'm not going to be here much longer," Jonathan said. "Can I skip this?"

"You've been here nine years. Where are you going now?"

"I've got a plan...there's so much..."

"Left undone...yes, I know. Look -- this job is what is it is and you are what you are..."

"What is that?"

"A very good stockboy."

"Don't you call me..."

"I know...it's the title..."

"I know...

"Do you want my job? You can do my job..."

"I don't want your job...thanks, though."

"It is what it is, you know?"

"You keep saying that. You know it makes no sense."

"I know, but it keeps you going, you know."

"Yeah, I know." Jonathan paused. "I'm going to go finish up now. Then I'm going to quit this job."

"Yeah?"

"For real."

Jonathan finished up. It took him two more hours. Then he punched out, took a deep breath of cool evening air, confirmed his schedule for tomorrow, zipped his coat and walked to the bus stop.

# # #

Space Knight!

My kids and I play this game were we make up superheroes and then I tell stories about them. They're utterly insatiable. Here's me coming home from work:

"Hi, guys! I'm home!"

>>continued reading of books or leaping upon couch-pillow mountains<<

"Umm...hello?"

"Daddy! Tell us a Fantastic 6 story!" says kid 1

"No, tell us an Awesome Eight story!" says kid 2

"Tell us a Space Knight story!" says kid 1.

"OK, wait, Daddy," says kid 2, who is older by a year and a half. "Tell us a Space Knight story now and then tell us an Awesome Eight story for our bedtime story."

"How about we tell no stories now and read books for bedtime?" I say, hopefully.

"No, Daddy," says kid 2, and then togther: "Tell us a Space Knight story! Tell us a Space Knight story! Tell us..."

"OK," I say, and fall in a bit of a heap on the couch. The kids, 5 ("and a half!") and 4, clamber up onto the couch, and wait expectantly.

"Tell us the story that happens after the last story!" says kid 1.

"What happened in the last story?"

"Daddy, you remember -- when Space Knight won the race around the moon," says kid 2

"Right. And there he was with friend, Gronk."

"Gronk is really fat," says kid 1, puffing out his cheeks.

"Well, yes, he's a very big guy. And as you know, he's kind of a Space Mechanic. Anyway, Gronk says, 'Space Knight, I have a mission. You should come with me.' Space Knight says, 'Sure...what is the mission?' and Gronk says, "Well, I have to go to the planet Serracloob...'"

"Serracloob? That's an odd name," says kid 2.

"That's the name."

"OK."

"So, Gronk says, 'We have to get there fast. There's a space bus stuck in the swamps of Sierraclawb...'"

"Serracloob!"

"Right, '...in the swammps of Serracloob where some school kids were on a field trip.'"

"Why did they go there on a field trip?" says kid 2.

"Because there's lots of natural beauty there."

"I think there's lots of doody there!" says kid 1.

"I said 'beauty', not 'doody'!"

"Doody Doody Doody!" kid 1 says.

"He said, 'doody'...that's funny..." says kid 1. "The school bus should be stuck in doody!" says kid 1.

"Hey! Who's telling this story?" I say, and that quiets them down. "So...Space Knight says he's happy to go with Gronk, and they agree that they would go there in Space Knight's ship, Alice. 'Alice, we're going to planet Serracloob. How long will it take to get there?'

'It's pretty close, Space Knight,' the ship says in a soothing female voice. 'How fast do you want to go?'

'We have to rescue a bus full of kids...pretty fast!' says Space Knight.

'Then we'd better get moving...it will take us no more than a day,' says Alice.

'Then let's go. Are you ready, Gronk?'

'Ready, Space Knight!'

'Alice, get set for Super Duper Super Duper Super Extra Hyper Warp Speed...go!' says Space Knight and he punches a big red button and the ship shoots off into space. Shhhszzzzzzooooooooooom!'"

"Gronk is going to sit in the doody. Because he's so fat!" says kid 1.

"Hey! We don't talk like that. And Gronk is just big boned. And enough with the doody!" I say, exasperated. "So anyway, soon, Gronk and Space Knight arrive at the planet Sierra Club..."

"Serracloob!" shout kid 1 and kid 2 together.

"Whatever. And they land their ship just outside the creepy swamp. 'Better bring my crocodile repllent,' says Space Knight. 'And alligator repellent, too,' says Gronk, who is carrying a massive box of space bus fixit equipment.'"

"And Space Knight brings his stunner stick and his jet boots!" says kid 2. "But, what if they meet a bear?"

"Bears don't live in swamps," I say. "So they squish and squarsh through the swamp...squish squarch....squish squarch...when suddenly, crashing out of the swampy forest comes... a bear!"

"Hey! But... you said!"

"I changed my mind...there was a bear!"

"But ... well ... OK," said kid 2. "So Space Knight takes out his bear repellent...?"

"No! He didn't bring it! So Space Knight and Gronk run away as fast as they can through the swamp."

"But Space Knight can just use his stunner stick," says kid 2.

"But he doesn't! He and Gronk run and run!"

"But..."

"Who's telling this story? Anyway, Space Knight and Gronk come to this big tree. And they climb right up it because..."

"Gronk is too big boned to climb a tree!" says kid 1.

"He...umm... he's wearing jet boots. And that jets him up the tree."

"Scaaarrrrryyy," says kid 2.

"And the bear swipes at them with his big claws, but he can't reach them, so he trundles off..."

"He went away?" says kid 1.

"Yeah. The bear goes away. So after awhile Space Knight and Gronk climb down, and they find the bus full of children waiting for them. 'Hooray!" say all of the kids. 'Who are you guys?' And Gronk says, 'Hi! I'm Gronk. I'm here to fix the space bus.' And then Space Knight stands up extra tall, puffs out his chest and says, 'I...' and he takes a deep breath, 'I... am SPACE KNIGHT!' And all the kids look around as his voice echoes around the swamp."

"Then what happens?" says kid 2.

"Then they fix the space bus and fly home."

"What about the bear?" says kid 1.

"Umm, the bear found a big berry bush and is eating it."

"What's the part that happens next?" says kid 2.

"Then they all go out for pizza and milk and they go to bed."

"Yay!" they say together.

"Now go to bed!" I say.

"Boo! Now let's do an Awesome Eight Story!" says kid 2.

"Enough with the stories!" I say, and trundle them off to bed.

* * *

So, ends the first odd telling of a Space Knight Adventure. Need there be more?

Comments are welcome!

Democracy In America (or, "your tax dollars at work")

-- Or, What I Believe...a Liberal's Case for the Vision Thing

There are times when a state ought go back to the beginning. Remind ourselves of what we're here for. Why we live together like we do. Why we have Government, and why it's important for us.

I'm not going to go into a history lesson. I just think it's time we remember what we've all agreed on here in America, and why we really are all in this together.

I think we argue so much about things like "taxes" and "education" and "welfare" and "defense" that we forget what we're arguing about.

Look...

* We all agree that we need a government. It sets the rules of acceptable behavior. It makes sure that contracts are enforceable. It keeps us from killling each other. It gives us an outlet for our agression.

* Government does more than that. It's not this amorphous "thing" out there. It's people who we've elected to help us make a better life for each other and our communities. And it's more people -- our neighbors and friends and people sitting in the car next to us on the highway -- who've taken jobs to help get this work done.

We have government because we've come together as a communities -- and groups of communities -- to do things together that we couldn't do on our own. To pool our resources and our energy to get things done and maintain the lives we like to lead.

What have we come together to do? What would you pay for? What is it that we have come together to do that makes you proud? Where should our money go?

That's what we should talk about...

I live in a suburb of Minneapolis. I walk around our parks and lakes on a beautiful day, and I hope my tax dollars are supporting this. I see a sign saying that the lake has too much bacteria for swimming, and I'm glad I pay for someone to check this, and would be happy to invest tax dollars in clean up. I drive on smooth roads, and am pleased to have been a part of this; I see potholes and am willing to invest my tax dollars to have them fixed. I hear our schools are suffering because they need more help from the state -- run schools responsibly, but raise my taxes if you need to -- education is important! People can't break out of the cycle of poverty -- we can come together and help ... I'm good with that. Should people die because they can't afford medical care? I don't think so ... let's do this right.

The list goes on -- I bet you can find "your tax dollars at work" in a lot of ways -- good ways ... lots of frustrating, head-scratching, cockamamie ways, too, and we need to keep working to fix that...

But as a country, states, towns, and communities we've come together to make where we live a better place. That's your tax dollars at work. Be proud of it.