Archive for the ‘Chronicle’ Category
Days Gone By
Ah, the good old days. Not only do they not make things the way they used to, there are a lot of activities that we just don’t get to do anymore. I can remember the days we raked leaves into piles and burned them. It smelled great, …while it polluted the air. I don’t recall there having been warnings not to drink water from the garden hose. We did it all the time. We used to let our pets roam the neighborhood without a leash and I don’t recall anyone following their dog around with a bag and a scoop. Well, I guess there are still some people that don’t clean up after their pets to this day, based on the many piles appearing on my property –even though we don’t own a dog.
We used to get rides from strangers by hitchhiking. As kids, we were allowed to ride bikes without wearing helmets. We played around in the back of the station wagon without wearing seat belts.
I think most people have accepted these changes that have evolved over time without really expecting to be able to have things be the way they always were.
Sometimes, I wonder about some other activities of the past that people are still set on keeping alive. Take hunting, for example. In many families it is a big tradition. I can understand a desire to have things be the way they have always been. But as the population continues to swell, and wilderness shrinks due to development, there are more people eligible to hunt every year, and on a continually shrinking amount of available land. It gets harder and harder to maintain the family tradition in the manner it has historically been held. I’ve heard hunters argue that outsiders shouldn’t be allowed to hunt in areas where they have no history. There is a desire to maintain ones tradition, but this may be one of those activities that is destined to fade into the past.
I don’t expect hunting to go away completely, but I see it changing, most likely changing enough that it will become one of those things where the memory of the way it used to be done, hardly resembles what it will evolve into as it adapts to the 21st century world.
Although there are many who lament the changes that come with the passing of time, plenty of the changes are for the better. I remember a time when I couldn’t go out to hear music, or even watch a Vikings game at the old Met Stadium, without coming home smelling like an ash tray. Remember making ash trays out of clay in grade school as gifts for our parents? Ah, the good old days.
Antidote Needed
AAAAauuuuggghh! I’m sorry, I can’t write today’s post. My eyes have been damaged by seeing a Christmas commercial in the beginning of November. Actually, I did already see one in October, but it didn’t have the same effect because it was so ridiculously early that I didn’t even believe what I was seeing. Now, having seen another one, reality is confirmed and it has burned all the way into my head.
The thing is, though, I can’t tell if the ads are for Christmas this year or are already being broadcast for next year, in advance. If I could find an antidote to the over-commercialization of a religious holiday, I would gladly trade a flu vaccine to gain access to it.
Sportsmania!
It is that time of year again. Floorball is starting up! So now, in addition to my three-mornings-a-week indoor soccer, I will have one evening per week of floorball competition. I hope I am up to it. That is an awful lot of running around. I have often said that there is no way I see myself doing a fraction of this amount of running without having a ball to chase around for incentive. In the end, it is not the running that is most taxing, it is the sudden stopping and frequent changing of direction. I’m pretty sure there is a line to be crossed between the activity being good exercise for a body and the activity being too much stress, but I have no idea how closely I operate to that line. I’m afraid I will discover it after I have over-stressed something like a knee or an ankle.
In addition to all the activity I am participating in, I have also been offered two more opportunities to go see the Gophers play football in their new stadium this season! This Saturday looks to be an exciting opponent in Illinois and it will be a day game with pleasant weather being predicted. Sweet! But that’s not all. I have also been given tickets to see the Gopher basketball team the following week on the new floor installed at Williams Arena.
It’s probably a good thing that the Vikings have a bye this weekend or I might exceed a reasonable quota of all things sports related with so much happening in such a short span of time. At least I won’t have to worry about the World Series calling for any more of my attention since the team from New York claimed that championship last night. That’s good, because I need that time for watching college and NHL hockey now, anyway.
So much sport, so little time. Feel free to follow my example. Get out there and play something! It’s a great way to make exercise fun. I think playing a sport makes watching sports a much more rich experience. The two do go together quite well, complimenting each other nicely. But be careful. You might discover it to be a bit addicting and then you run the risk of becoming a Sportsmaniac! But I don’t know anything about that. I barely dabble in sports…
Pencil Geek
Of all the things in the world that deserve our attention, I hate to admit that I get hung up on things like pencil lead. When the lead in a mechanical pencil runs out, there is no way to use the final half-inch of lead. It goes against my sense of frugality to just discard a perfectly write-able piece of lead. It seems to me that with the technology available to send rockets into space and land people on the moon without crashing into satellites that are beaming cell phone conversations about what someone posted on their Facebook page, there should be some way to design a device that holds the lead, allowing it to write all the way to the end!
But it occurs to me, now that I am writing about it, that there is probably more lead than my little remnant piece, discarded every day when traditional wood pencils reach the end of their useful length. And in most of those, the lead is of an even bigger diameter, so there is a lot more waste occurring with the classic yellow number 2 test-taker. Relative to that, my mechanical is a real eco-friendly trend setter after all! What a relief. Now I can turn my attention to more significant problems like why it is so difficult sometimes to evenly engage the two-way zipper on my jacket, and thus allow it to pull all the way up. It is a rare occasion I get it on the first try.
Silver Lining
Why is the sound of another person chewing, so discomforting to hear sometimes? It doesn’t always come across as extremely irritating, but when it does happen –and I’m guessing it is when an ambient quiet allows it to become particularly noticeable– it is torture to endure. Personally, I find it very difficult to complain to the offending ‘person’ (who else other than my spouse do I find myself with, in a quiet situation where only one of us is eating?), because it could just as often be me masticating while my partner suffers the onslaught of offensive sounds. Quite frankly, she has been much too forgiving about pointing it out to me when I am the one doing the chewing.
I don’t know what it is about the crunching and smacking sounds resonating from within someone else’s head, that seems to strike such a nerve within me. One aspect that confuses me is why it can sound so amplified at times. It’s as if it is being artificially enhanced somehow. It doesn’t really matter what the food ends up being when the situation arises. I’ve noticed it to occur whether it is soft food or something more obviously crunchy. It is just plain unappealing to listen to food getting processed inside the mouth. It seems like all of a sudden I’m hearing fingers scratching a blackboard.
I wonder why I never get that feeling when I am the one eating. Obviously, everything sounds different from inside our own heads. But I would think that the munching sounds would be that much louder and thus more reason to be annoying inside our own head. Whatever it is that makes it such an irritant, I can see a silver lining nestled within the whole phenomenon. It provides a wonderful opportunity for me to practice the kind of diplomacy that maintaining a long-term relationship truly requires.
Good, Bad, & Ugly
The new stadium on the campus of the University of Minnesota is indeed a wonderful thing. It was a great experience for me to be back out under the elements to watch football. I do not deny that it will be more taxing to watch a game when the weather is miserable, but the number of days of misery will be out-numbered in the long run. Last night was a little chilly, but far from too cold. I found it ideal. The game, however, was a lot more ‘trick’ than ‘treat’.
Every time I attend a game in person lately, I am made more aware of how conditioned to seeing football games on television I have become. I expect to see every play multiple times and from multiple angles. I’m guessing, had I been given that opportunity last night, that I wouldn’t have such a bad opinion of the decisions the referees were making. But live, in real time, what we saw didn’t always align with the calls being made, and combined with the mistakes the home team was making, it produced a pretty ugly, sometimes scary evening.
It is only fair that I reveal that plenty of my pleasure over the beautiful stadium comes as a result of being the beneficiary of receiving premium level tickets that include access to a club room with soft cushion seating, a fireplace and refreshments, where you can warm up when necessary and view the action on large flat-screen televisions. The hot chocolate was HOT and large and a very welcome treat I was taking advantage of, just at the right time there, so I didn’t have to witness the opponent’s kick-off return for touchdown at the start of the second half.
In the end, the home team prevailed and all was deemed a great success. I may be basking in the initial gush of glee over the new stadium, but right now, I am feeling as though I would be happy to go there and watch college football whether my team performs admirably or not. There were a lot of years I witnessed embarrassing performances in the Metrodome; enough that I chose to finally give up season tickets that my father had initially purchased in 1944. Sitting through ugly Gopher football in that dome was more than I could tolerate. Being high above the field, on campus, with a view down 4th Street SE, in the Minnesota autumn air, is anything but ugly, regardless what caliber of sport is being performed on the field below.
Trials of Existence
The last day of October has finally arrived. Have the retail stores put out their Valentines Day promotions yet?
Personally, I am anxiously awaiting a hard enough ground freeze to support adequate snow cover so as to deter those who wield the villainous leaf blowing tool, from unleashing their wicked noise pollution upon those of us who prefer the otherwise pristine sounds of autumn.
Of course, it will only provide a fleeting respite, as the hallowed quiet of a fresh-fallen blanket of snow will all too soon be shredded with the similar strain of auditory insult from the next great seasonal machine of the suburban homeowner, the snowblower.
It is a hard life I’ve chosen to carve out here amidst the lawns and driveways of middle American suburbia. However, from the undeniable convenience of my proximity to an incredibly large variety of entertainment options, this afternoon I will prepare myself for battle against the harsh elements as a spectator of on-campus outdoor football. I have my first opportunity to visit the new stadium on the campus of the University of Minnesota.
I will say hello to the Michigan State Spartans while I’m there, and report back here on the whole stadium experience, after I have had a chance to reclaim my body temperature. Of all the tricks I know for staying comfortable and dry in the cold weather, I tend to fall short when the activity I’m dressing for involves sitting in one place for 3 hours.
If you are reading this on the same day it is posted, and live in a part of the US that practices Daylight Saving Time adjustments, don’t forget to set your clocks back to Standard Time tonight.
Consider Vacuuming
The following is one version of a creative nonfiction piece I wrote years ago and find myself returning to on occasion.
There is a saying that goes… “If a little is good, more must be better.” Most often, I bristle at the mention – see “salt” in a recipe, or eye shadow, or cologne. However, there is an instance for which I embrace the premise wholeheartedly. Consider, vacuuming.
Sometimes I wonder what vacuuming would be like as an Olympic competition. I’d like to see the judging criteria for such an event. The style aspect is easy to imagine. It’s the technical merit that I need defined. I think it would take a significant amount of technology to adequately measure results that provide a panel of judges an opportunity to make truly unbiased declarations.
In the mean time, I struggle with an ongoing dilemma when it comes to the fine art of vacuuming… perfectionism. If I am going to haul the noisy apparatus out and bother with the chore at all in the first place, then how do I justify overlooking the crap along the walls and under the edge of the couch? I can’t seem to get myself to just do a light once-over touch-up. Unfortunately, my ‘all-or-none’ compulsion means the floor is more often than not an avant-garde pallet of detritus due to my usually choosing none.
For their part, vacuum manufacturers, or more precisely, their marketing departments, are sensitive to my plight. Ad campaigns tout the effectiveness of modern vacuum appliances at cleaning along edges. Attachments are provided to facilitate reaching under the couch. Manuals even provide diagrams suggesting patterns to follow for optimal effect. Looks like an exercise in lawn mowing to me. Did you know that a recommended technique involves a “cross-hatching” pattern? First, move in a north-south pattern of sweeps, then turn and work east-west (direction for reference only, your orientation may vary). At least with lawn mowing, if I become distracted, I can see where I left off.
What I need from the Research and Development team of the manufacturers, is a way to measure the point of diminishing returns. Otherwise, left to my own mind, I don’t know at what point more vacuuming no longer provides better results. I become the prisoner of an ordeal than can take up the better part of a day for just the family room alone. In addition, one thing leads to the next. If I am going to hook up the hose and nozzle attachment to consume the gray mass of dust at the corners, why not reach up and take care of the cobweb dangling from the coving overhead? If I am going to move the couch to access the flotsam beneath, why neglect the accumulated crumbs petrifying within? The coins under the cushions can provide additional reward for that effort.
It’s hard to argue the benefit of all this additional effort, so due to perfectionism, the task of vacuuming looms daunting in my grand scheme of things. I admit solutions abound. Clearly the simple practice of removing shoes at the door and limiting food to the dining area will reduce the major source of debris to be vacuumed in the first place. In my situation, history proves such logic inconsequential. There are teenagers to be factored in as well, so logic may never play its worth in the equation anyway. Oh, and a cat, so let the kids off the hook for another 60% of responsibility as source.
All things considered, without a new development in vacuuming appliances or some dramatic change in daily activity around this house, I rely on practicing the art of heedlessness. When I finally do succumb to the pressing need for vacuuming, I practice as my mantra, the aforementioned: “More is better… more is better…”
All Right
There is a phrase that is commonly used during emergency response, to calm a patient’s mind, that had me thinking the other day, if it applies during critical incidences, there is no less reason for it to apply other times in our lives.
Everything’s gonna be all right.
If we can tell someone who is in serious trauma, that everything is going to be all right, then how can it not apply for situations like not getting out of the house in the morning by the intended time, or when a car surges into our lane without bothering to signal, or when I discover I forgot to properly punctuate a question. How many times in a single day would it benefit us to contemplate the simple notion that everything is going to be all right?
And by now, I think we get the drill: If we say it often enough, we will tend to believe it, and if we believe it, it will come to be.
All right? All right.
When you are helping someone in crisis and they just can’t see any way out, intuition tells you that there will be a calm after their storm. Even if you can’t see any solution to their crisis, you sense that somehow, there will come a time when the crisis is over and everything is okay. They might ask how you can say such a thing, but you know that eventually everything is going to be all right. That’s just the way it is, looking in from the outside. It’s a view we deserve to take more often regarding our own daily dilemmas, both the important and the less so.
Feeling Like Fall
You feel like the fall season might be in full swing around here? I haven’t captured the photo yet that I really want. The trees in several places nearby have dropped their leaves straight to the ground below and created a virtual carpet of color beneath the branches. The sight of leaves covering the ground so completely is one of my favorite things. The next windy day will alter that artwork. I guess the fleeting nature of the scene is one of the reasons I value it so highly. It’s a shame I haven’t gotten out with the camera to capture the views. Although, with my basic camera, the scale of the whole vista of tree and surrounding turf is likely too wide to adequately frame without losing valuable detail that the eye so easily drinks in. It can’t look nearly as amazing in picture as it does in person.
We are scheduled to revert to standard time on the first Sunday of November, so that means this coming weekend we get to set our clocks back 1 hour. It’s my favorite weekend of the year. Something about getting one extra hour really appeals to me. I feel sorry for the person that has to work the night-shift when this happens. Clock-watching at work on that night must be a real bummer. Once the clocks change back that 1 hour to standard time, I feel like fall finally has truly arrived.
