September 07, 2008
 This morning, friend Bruce and I headed out early to Itasca Park via Highway 113, a winding road which runs from Waubun to the park. It was foggy, then cloudy, not ideal for picture-taking, but we got a few. Although the road is forested, every now and then one can view a small lake.  Once at Itasca, the main attraction was the flora, much of which is exotic to my experience in Norman County. Here some green lichens and purplish shelf fungi grow on a fallen birch log. The grassy stuff is ground pine.
September 06, 2008
"God is going to strike out his hand against America!" So said Sarah Palin's minister. Of course, when Rev. Jeremiah Wright said, "God damn America" that was a completely different deal. The reasons are obvious: First, Palin's minister is white. And, what's equally important, Palin's minister was probably talking about personal sexual sins--sins which are oh so very hugely important and immensely titillating to boot--while Wright was talking about sins he perceived in society and government, something rabble-rousing black ministers have no business talking about, particularly when we have good Christian men in office taking care of those pesky matters for us in ways that we blissfully ignorant sheep shouldn't even want to know about. I say who cares what crazy ministers say and who is in the seats when they say it--nobody listens to them anyway. They're there for entertainment and always have been. I know Palin doesn't take the baloney she hears from her church's pulpit any more seriously than Obama took seriously the baloney which sometimes flowed from his church's pulpit. Its just two different forms of entertainment for people who enjoy faith-based circuses. I would love to hear somebody explain to me why we should be concerned about Obama's minister but shouldn't care about the looniness from Palin's minister. It amounts to race, folks. There's no other explanation. White people are comfortable with one form of looniness and unfamiliar with the other.
If there ever was a phrase that indicates the presence of a blowhard, that is it. I recently spent about twenty minutes hearing out somebody who had a tree problem. After first presenting the tree problem, he repeated himself about five more times, prefacing each time with "like I say..." then quoting word for word his previous pronouncement as if he's the Norman County version of Winston Churchill. Minutes after that, he trapped my brother. From where I was hiding under my desk, I could hear the man do the very same thing to Joe. Over and over, "like I say.." for a good ten minutes. Nothing new of note was revealed after the first statement. What was important was that we stand there and hem and haw over why some branches on his tree didn't leaf out two years ago. On a tree he got on sale somewhere else. Now, the man is a good customer and has been for decades, so it pays to just sit there and listen and hem and haw about maybe its this and maybe its that, but whoa. Eventually you want to scream. The phrase "like I say..." should be banished from polite conversation. Another phrase which is starting to grate: "Ex-ACT-ly." Time to press the delete button on that one as well. I guess ex-ACT-ly is just a word, not a phrase, but when people use it in the sense it has come to be used, clinging to the middle syllable as long as possible, as if that makes their agreement even more perfectly exact, the word turns into a phrase which attempts (and fails) to create a sense of perfect accord.
Bob Novak's brain tumor has made him look at life a bit differently.
September 04, 2008
It is difficult to watch. The Twins aren't putting other teams away in the late innings like a good team does. When the Twins won the World Series, I don't think they lost a single game all year where they had led going into the ninth inning. I think they've lost half-a-dozen such games in the last month. Not good. The problem isn't always with the bullpen, either. Their fielding has been a little rough around the edges at crucial times in the past weeks. Despite frequent excellent plays, the type that make it on to ESPN, they are missing other plays that they have to make. This is a team that is going to tighten up as it gets experience. But right now, they are a little bit too sloppy to expect to go very far in the playoffs.
All this Palin buzz has me wondering: Since when did a city of 6,000 become a small town? I would call that a small city. When you have 6,000 people, there are bound to be people that you don't know there somewhere. And that, to me, would mean it isn't a small town.
September 02, 2008
I shouldn't complain. They are tied for first place. But do you think they could take advantage of all of the openings given them and open up a little lead over the White Sox? Frustration again tonight. They handed over a game they should have won to the hapless Blue Jays. It was difficult to watch.
Went in to the Hilton today to pick up Aunt Olla's invitation list for the birthday bash at the end of the month. The list is quite long. This party is occupying Olla's thoughts completely. When I told Olla not to worry about it, Olla's roomate Bernice, who up to that time had been quite asleep, piped up, "Tell her that again!" Apparently, this party is getting to be quite a worry for the entire wing of the Hilton. We fretted a bit over the wording. Should it say "you are invited," or should it be "you are cordially invited?" Olla was of the opinion that adding the "cordially" was important so that it isn't quite so blunt. So, it will be thus. Then I found out that Olla had assigned the office staff at the nursing home the task of typing up the invitation list formally, a list which will then be forwarded to Olla's niece, my aunt Beth, who will, if things go as planned, mail out the invitations. I ran right down to the office and said I would take care of all that, they shouldn't fret. Good grief. Olla wants it to be potluck so nobody is responsible for all of the goodies, but if we have potluck it will be crazy with stuff. I am not sure how I will get out of that one yet. Should I have it catered? That would be simplest. I am not really comfortable sending out invitations saying potluck. Not sure what the etiquette is there. At the very least, I think hosting this party, as well as the past two birthday parties, will make up for my dropping the ball on Olla's 90th birthday party seven years ago. At that time, I knew darn well that she expected a big bash and I wasn't about to put one on. She kept hinting and I eventually suggested a little cake and coffee in the common room at the senior apartments, an idea so insulting to her dignity Olla declared that I was her "worst enemy." For my part, I was absolutely furious that she expected me to fix up some sort of coronation for her and was plenty happy to be her worst enemy for the day. But that's behind us. We've had about four or five celebrations since, against all odds, and perhaps there will be more.
September 01, 2008
 I have never noticed the bulldog on the Avery logo before. Below are the pigeon-toed front wheels on an A John Deere. As a three and four year old in Cavalier, North Dakota, the A John Deere fascinated me. I am not sure if the A is the "put-put" type of engine or not, but I remember those as well. Despite having absolutely no mechanical inclinations as an adult, I was completely fascinated with machinery as a tot. I think the fascination was more aesthetic than intellectual. It is not that I had a desire to know how the machines worked. I was fascinated by their human qualities--by their determination, strength and beauty. As a three-year-old, I felt actual friendship from a beautiful, rounded 1951 Chevy pickup. I feared the put-put John Deere, but wished it was one of the two dozen tractors we had at the nursery when we moved home in 1969. I recall an Allis Chalmers swather which Dad drove on Danny Hinkle's field in 1967 which looked to me like a praying mantis. It is no wonder to me that people flock to Rollag to revel in the beauty of the old machines. 
Summer ended today in symbolic fashion: After a steamy, muggy day, a storm moved in, the temperatures plummeted to fall-like levels, and a beautiful rain fell. By tomorrow, the high will be in the sixties. It may continue to rain. I think this weather perks everybody up. The kids go back to school tomorrow. Every Labor Day, I can't imagine my luck at not having to go back to school. The thought of it makes my stomach churn. Life is like one big summer vacation when you compare it to school years. Yes, there are occasional difficulties, but nothing like wondering if you were going to have friends on the playground, or if you were going to get beat up that day, or if everybody would be nice--in which case the danger was getting overconfident and doing something stupid which would get you in trouble with the teacher. I don't miss school in the least. I also don't miss summer much. Never do. I prefer fall. Summer has its merits, and I prefer it to winter by a 3-1 margin, but I don't like heat. Spring and fall are my seasons. So, I am feeling the need to put up some wood. Three weeks ago, Uncle Rolly sawed down four oak in my yard, oak that died due to the stress from the construction of the house three years ago. Sad to see them go. But now I am cutting them up. My stove is big enough to take cobs without splitting, but I have been splitting these big chunks and it is going pretty well. I am getting the hang of it. It just takes persistence. Splitting makes a huge difference in drying the wood. What satisfaction to see even a small stack of split wood--and to smell it. Wow. It fills the yard with its perfume.
August 30, 2008
 Read about Edward Rumely, the man who developed the Rumely Oil Pull tractor pictured above. Apparently when he attended school in Germany, Rumely ate nuts, berries, wore sandals and scanty clothing and committed numerous "other eccentricities." Never know what you'll find in Rollag.
Looking east from the grounds at Rollag was a beautiful scene that could bring back memories for some. I find the scenery around Rollag to be the most beautiful in the world. I remember six years ago when I came home from a month in Europe. A couple of days later I drove through Rollag and thought, nothing in Europe matches this. (The rural areas of northern Italy are a possible exception.)
McCain's pick for Vice President is certainly interesting. I don't know how Pahlin will survive the avalanche of scrutiny about to land on her. Alaska politics is apparently a rough and tumble affair, and Pahlin has played the game. Some of that stuff might not look so good when brought to light. I don't buy the notion that she's neglecting her young children. I have heard this criticism from a surprising number of sources. Men have never gotten any scrutiny for fathering young children while pursuing career ambitions. How the Pahlins take care of their children is their business. What I do know is that Obama's campaign should just keep their mouth shut about Pahlin instead of jumping all over her lack of experience. This was a chance for them to take the high road and let the press do the dirty work, which you know they will do. If Pahlin fades, it will be the press scrutiny that will do her in, not criticisms from the Obama camp. The vice-presidential selection is over-emphasized. I would love for us to go back to the days where vice presidents were about as noticed as a potted plant in the corner. They should have a pulse and they should have a brain, but they needn't be perfect. We survived Dan Quayle. We even survived Andrew Johnson. To swear in Johnson after Lincoln died, the judge had to find him drunk in a hotel room. He had mud all over his face from landing in the gutter the night before. They swore him in, then tucked him back in to sleep it off. Can you imagine that happening today?
August 29, 2008
The conservative commentator and former presidential speechwriter responds to Obama's acceptance speech. Eugene Robinson can't believe what he's hearing.
Threshing machine close-ups  Most old threshing machines are made of tin. This one was mostly wood, and had aged beautifully. 
 Went to Rollag today on a photo mission with Bruce and Lance.  I like to focus on the beautiful logos of the various long-forgotten companies.  J. I. Case is still in operation.  Rumely is not in business anymore. (Can you imagine a company today making sure to include the smoke coming from their smokestacks in their logo?)  This Twin City logo anticipated the Twins cap.  No logo here, but it is clearly Allis Chalmers.
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