Going for a Swim in 1943

January thoughts of jumping into a lake lined by verdant summer trees seem as distant as the date of this photo. Time and climate make it seem like a half-forgotten dream. This was taken in 1943 on an unspecified Alexandria lake.

This might be Lake Henry before it closed. The city park beach re-opened since the water quality has improved in recent years. It should be law that all Minnesota lakes are swimmable. There's no reason why anyone should have to think twice about jumping into a lake in a state where swimming weather is so precious.

As kids Mike and I swam in the backyard pond a couple of times. This was before the pasture the pond is in became overgrown with ash trees. The water level hasn't been nearly as high since they took over. Mike and I caught tadpoles by hand but we had to take a bath outside afterwards. I think Mom worried about runoff from the cow pies.

Dad has an aversion to water. I think it is because of the time he nearly drowned while tubing behind a boat driven by his good pal Larry. Since then he's kind of shied away. Even at Itasca when we jump off the pontoons, I can tell he's worried.

His grandson though loves the water. Jack has been taking swimming lessons since he was 2. During the last two trips to Itasca he has jumped off the pontoon in the middle of the lake to doggie-paddle around in his life jacket. A summer day for Jack isn't complete unless he has gotten wet.

And a Bowl Full of Mush

Used to be at our house that Jodi and I took turns reading books to Jack at bedtime. That's changed since Aidan has been born. Now there are no nights off from bedtime; we alternate. One night I read with Jack, the next with Aidan.

I like reading with Jack. He gets into stories making comments, asking questions, and he remembers details. He likes repetition, too. I read a story by Tiki and Ronde Barber to him last night (which Jodi had read the night before). I missed two pages in the middle and when we finished he knew it and we had to go back.

Aidan has discovered, what I think, is the best book of all time for young children: "Goodnight Moon" by Margaret Wise Brown. It's a simple, quirkly little book that has an old-fashion feel to it. There are cats, a mouse, an old lady (bunny) whispering hush, and more in a nighttime bedroom scene. Aidan loves the details on each page. The mouse moves around the room from page to page and the young little bunny changes how he is positioned on his bed.

Best of all is the simple words and pictures that Aidan can identify. He loves to point out the moon through the bedroom window which also shows up in a painting on the wall of the cow jumping over the moon. He can't point to the three little bears without saying "sitting on chairs."

Tonight he made the connection between the fireplace tools in the book and the fireplace tools at his Papa Dale and Nana Audie's house. "Nana's house," he says as he points at the fireplace scoop and poker.

After reading and before the crib, we sit in the rocking chair in the dark and say goodnight to all the people he knows (Night-night Jack, Night-night Johnny, etc). It helps settle him down and I like to think it sends him to sleep thinking about the people that love him.

Thanks Arne!

I was browsing the Minnesota Historical Society website tonight. There is a section called "On This Date." According to the MHS on this date in 1994 all schools were closed by then Governor Arne Carlson on account of extreme cold.

If I remember that day correctly it was a Monday and I was a freshman at SCSU. I stayed an extra night at home on the farm and went back with Chad Dahl and Jerry Tischer Monday afternoon after it warmed up (to -40º). I remember helping on the farm that weekend wearing googles outside because of the cold. I think we skipped cleaning the calf pen that weekend.

At home tonight I hear snow scouring the windows and the wind blowing from the northwest. It's cold out, but not nearly worthy of an Arne Carlson declaration.

I could see Will Steger teaming up with Arne for his Global Warming talks. Imagine those two going to the local Lutheran churches. Will's talking about thinning arctic ice, while Arne would be giving the testimonials. "Back when I was governor it was so cold we canceled school because we were afraid the kids would shatter at the bus stop. Ventura was cuddled up with is horses trying to keep warm. I remember John Marty trying to pass a bill to buy sweaters for hibernating bears. Nowadays kids don't even wear jackets in winter."

Did you know? 1982 State Auditor's Race: Carlson 55%, Paul Wellstone 45%-Wikipedia.

Norwegian Bachelor Farmers

Today was meetings, work, hockey, bedtime. I had just enough time to read that the Gophers hired Punky Brewster. He can recruit, but can he recruit, coach, sell out a new stadium, increase revenues for non-revenue sports, and graduate players?

Here's what I noticed yesterday.

According to an article in the Star Tribune, the New York Times reviewed census data and reported that 51% of women are unmarried. Apparently this is the first time in recorded American history this has happened. The article credits women waiting longer to get married, outliving their husbands, and not remarrying after death or divorce.

I'm not sure what to make of this. Is the NY Times trying to be provacative? Perhaps bait some Bible belt politican into saying something stupid? Pat Robertson's been too quiet lately? Maybe.

The data I didn't see was what percent of American men are unmarried? I it assume that it's more than 50%.

Here's why:
1. Norwegian bachelor farmers (how else to explain our abundant food supply?)
2. There's more men than women. I've taught for 8 years and never have I had more girls than boys in a class. It's always been more boys than girls. The highlight? 2000-2001 school year: 17 boys, 5 girls.


Conversely, there was an NPR story from Ethiopia about a new law banning marriages to girls under 18. Seems that girls there get married off at the age 14. The average age difference between husband and wife is 8 years. The law was designed to allow girls the freedom to pusue an education and mature personally before being wed.

The Rumbler

Our Mazda Protoge with 126,000 miles has been an excellent car. It is dependable, easy to maintain, and great on gas mileage. The only problem is the exhaust line. It must be made of tin foil. I've had it repaired or patched 3 or 4 times plus a muffler since we've had it. The muffler was a little pricey, but the patches have run around $50. Not bad compared to the $300 it would cost to redo the exhaust line.

A broken exhaust line is a cosmetic problem. It doesn't affect transmission or handling. But it is loud-annoyingly loud. It's wake up the neighbors and draw stares from other motorists loud. This morning I drove it for the first time since last Wednesday when it broke open again (actually this time the line seperated from the engine). I started it up to warm before I took the kids to daycare. Backing it half-way out of the garage, I thought I had it far enough out to vent the exhaust. When I came out to load up the car the garage was like a Hennepin County bar before the smoking ban.

Worse is, again, the noise. As you accelerate you can feel the reverberation through your body. The sound is worse in the lower gears when the car is lathering up to a higher speed. The cabin of the car is like the inside of a rock tumbler for the JC Penney's Christmas catalog. I imagine it's something like the early astronauts as the re-entered Earth in their space capsules.

Once you hit 4th and 5th gear it's not bad. As you let off the gas the car quiets almost to normal. But if you hit an incline you slowly start to lose speed. The choice is this: hit the gas now and keep the pace or let inertia carry you over the hill at the risk of annoying following motorists- I choose the latter.

The car is fixed now. Eddie did a fine job for $49.57. Small, new piece of pipe added and welded together to make it sound, er fixed.

I will miss one thing though. When passing pedistrians I did enjoy hitting the gas as I passed them. It was a guilty pleasure to watch them startle like they were being woke up from a nap by the Landlady from Kingpin. Oh well, I'm sure I'll get a chance to do it again before too long.

Snowy Day

Today had a snowy start. The driveway had 4 or 5 inches of dry, powdery snow to clear off. It seemed strange to see it. This was the first time I actually shoveled the driveway this winter.

So this morning the boys had a chance to play outside. They both love it. Strangely, they really enjoy shoveling off the driveway. Aidan can barely function in winter clothing. He's like the kid for "Christmas Story." When dressed he cannot put his arms to his sides.

I have today off because of MLK Day but had to run to Chaska to have a "Wellness Screening." Our health insurance offered a chance to have your blood pressure taken, blood drawn for tests, and answer an electronic survey on your health.

I wouldn't be suprised if all of my survey answers and test results go to some health insurance database where they use your information to tailor a policy with benefits for things you'll never need and omit things the test results show you will need. But conspiracy or not, I was curious what my cholesterol is at.

So I went. Packed the family in the van at 7:00 AM and made the slow, snowy way to Chaska. It never ceases to amaze me on days like this at the number of jerks on the roads. The roads are obviously snowpacked and slippery so it's best to slow down on hills, corners, intersections, etc.

We met a car driven by a friend at an intersection. She was driving about 40-45 on a narrow, slippery county road that curves back and forth with steep ditches. As we waited for her to pass through the intersection at our stop sign, we noticed the number of cars following her, and following her closely. There must have been 12-15 each one tailgating the one in front of it.

Back to the screening, Blood pressure 120 over 80. Good. Better was the comment from the lady taking my blood pressure. As she slipped the instument up my arm she commented "Oh, you've got some muscles there." Yes ma'am. I do. I'll get the rest of the results in 3 weeks.

On the way home I bought gas in Victoria for $1.89 a gallon. I haven't paid a $1.89 since July of '05.

Having another day off makes me feel guilty until I read the following about our president at Slate.com:

According to an unofficial count kept by the White House correspondent for CBS, President Bush has now spent 365 full or partial days at Camp David, reports the Post's Al Kamen. As of Jan. 1, the president had also spent 405 full or partial days at his ranch in Crawford.

Travel: Pros and Cons

Traveling makes me crabby. Especially the tail-end of a trip when we get home. I don't sleep well and driving on the freeway isn't as fun as it was when I was 16. Factor in the black moods that every O'Brien seems to have from time to time and I can be tough to live with. It's at time like these when I understand why some animals eat their young.

My pity parties don't last too long. Jodi makes sure of that. A couple of oh-too-true barbs (think: starving children, homeless people, single mothers with 6 kids) and I'm left licking my wounds. Plus how can you stay crabby when Jack and Aidan run downstairs fresh from a bath wearing only smiles (it's how they dry the lotion off after a bath).

I heard about the Chevy Volt on NPR last week. It's an electric car that can travel 40 miles on a single charge. When needed a small flex fuel engine starts to recharge the battery. There is no transmission and most work commutes would never cause the engine to start.

This could be a really big winner for Chevy if the car proves durable and reliable. But it will only help reduce greenhouse gases if the power needed to charge the Volt comes from a clean, renewable energy source. Burning more coal to take the place of oil is robbing Peter to pay Paul. Wouldn't it make sense to package the Volt with a small solar power array that would be used to charge it?