The Night Before Halloween

My Halloween was uneventful; I sat in front of the TV and became a couch potato. I caught up on a few TV shows I follow and watched the movie "Man from UNCLE". But occasionally I would glance at the front door, get up and check the door locks and peek out the front window.  My horror story began the night before Halloween.

I was standing in the check out lane at a Wal-Mart, (actually that is a horror story on its own) and a grossly over-weight woman in front of me started humming and twitching to an unheard beat in her headphones. What made this even more absurd is she was wearing a revealing sheer pink ballerina dress barely containing the rolls of fat bulging from all sides. Everyone in line stepped back in unison, pulled out their smartphones and started tapping and swiping on the screens, pretending not to notice.

Like a man not fast enough to step back with the rest of the line, I had the unfortunate luck of being right behind the now singing and twisting womanlike mass. I had little to no room for escape. Suddenly in the middle of a Nicki Minaj refrain, she quickly turned, looked me directly in the eyes and purred, "You want to follow me home? I have beer!" she demonstrated by dangling a six-pack of Bud Light above her head before setting it gently down on the counter. She smiled and winked. A chill ran down my spine.

Why I didn't suddenly bolt from the line on a dead run out of Wal-Mart screaming in terror, I do not know. I had every right; anyone in that line would have backed me. Except maybe for that bald overweight guy in the middle of the line, which was leaning at a 90-degree angle, leering at the enormous ballerina dancer/singer in front of me.

I felt a large drop of sweat travel down my forehead and start to merge into my eyebrow. The distant ring of a cash register reminded me that my window of escape was closing.

But I was frozen in fear and saw no dignified route of escape, I spoke plainly and carefully to her, even as my insides were Jell-O and my lips were trembling,  "It is tempting, but I have other plans, but thank you for the offer." Forget the fact my plans were to become a couch potato that evening and enjoy some beer.

'Ok.' she replied as she swung around to pay the trembling cashier, 'You don't know what you're missing.'

I had no answer nor wish to reply to her, so I slow turn to look at the people in line behind me, as if for support. No one met my gaze. They continued to tap on their smartphones, inspect their finger nails and look up at the ceiling while rubbing the back of their neck. That is except for one who was still at a 90 degree angle, leering at the ballerina with a crazed look in his eyes. Several times he broke his steady stare to look at me, nod his head in her direction with the unspoken look of "What you waitin' for? GO FOR IT!"

That evening, I double checked my door locks, decided no on the beer and poured myself a large glass of Bushmill. Then sat down and watched two horror movies just to calm my nerves.

Lunch Time Drive

This has to be one of the best vehicles I have ever rented. This rental vehicle is a Chevy Cruze LZ with SAT Radio, auto-temperature control, auto-sunroof, auto-locks, auto-start, you name it, and this car has an auto for it. It is a classified ‘compact’ so I have a little problem squeezing in and out of it, but once I get in it has all the bells and whistles to entertain and relax as you cruise down the road.

I've had this car for a week and have developed a little routine as I approach the car. I point the remote at the car and push the button to start the engine as I approach it. Then I put the remote back in my pocket, because it is no longer needed. As I approach and grab the door handle, the proximity monitor unlocks the car, which is aware of the remote in my pocket. I squeeze into the drivers seat adjust the volume on the XM radio and push the button on the dash to open the sunroof.

As I put the car into reverse, a monitor replaces the console radio display revealing a camera mounted at the back of the car, which allows me to see behind me as I back up.

IT IS SO COOL! I LOVE DRIVING THIS CAR.

Today I eagerly repeated the routine as I headed out to lunch. I heard the familiar click of the locks as I grabbed the door handle, opened the door and squeezed into the drivers seat on the rapidly cooling car. And at that point the routine, I had so enjoyed, changed!

The first thing I noticed was the radio settings had changed. A local AM religious radio station yelling at me about the evils of something. I quickly poked the SAT button to return to the steel drums of Margaritaville on XM and listened as the SAT radio played the ‘Preview” channel. Damn the 3-month trial had probably run out. Now I had to find a local radio channel to listen to, so I quickly scrubbed through the channels and found a classic Rock & Roll channel which was playing a great Beatles song “Why Don’t We Do It In The Road’. Awesome! So I pumped up the volume to show my disappointment at losing the XM choices.

But I still had my sunroof! I reached up to press the button to retract the wonderful portal and the button wasn’t there! In fact, the sunroof wasn’t there either. WHAT THE HELL!

About that time a gentlemen cautiously approached the driver’s side shielding an elderly woman clutching a well-worn Bible who was visible upset. I really hadn’t noticed them because my brain and fingers were still trying to find the button and the sunroof.

“Sir, please get out of the lady’s car” the gentleman demanded.  I looked at him and must have had a confused look on my face, because his look of determination and fear changed to confusion. Realization then struck me sharply and I knew I was in the wrong car. I apologized several times as I exited the car. Pointing at my rental car I now saw,  just 3 spaces away and trying to explain the mistake. The gentleman always kept himself between me and the elderly woman as he was saying that everything was OK. He never took his eyes off me as I jumped into “my” car and quickly repeated that familiar routine.

Now I was in the right car. It had XM. It had a sunroof. I glanced briefly in their direction as I sped out of the parking lot. They were struggling with the radio that was finishing up with Paul McCartney chanting loudly, ‘Why Don’t We Do It In The Road” as the well-worn Bible bouncing to the beat on the roof of the car where the sunroof should have been.

Damn! Back to the rental car place to change the code on this remote. 

Moment in Life

When it happens, you rarely notice. Most moments in life come and go, never even get our attention. Several hours, days or weeks later you start to realize a certain time in your life has occurred, which you will remember forever, but details have been lost. Today was different.

I was seated at a makeshift bar outside of a small town in Missouri. Next to me a old beat-up portable radio was struggling to play “Barefoot Blue Jean Night” by Jake Owen. It was 103 degrees and a hot breeze, may have cooled it down to 101. The bartender had just pulled the beer from a ice-filled cooler and put it in front of me. I eased that longneck Bud to my lips and let the cool liquid past over my tongue and run down my throat. I suddenly realized that I would remember this experience the rest of my life. The song, the heat and the Bud are now forever burned into my memory.

There was nothing special about it other than the moment itself. I realize that most people, whose opinion I even cared about, would be puzzled at my attraction to this little slice in time. But as you get older those key moments seem to drift further apart. It is nice to realize that I still have unforgettable experiences other than getting up in the morning.

Thumbs Up!

I learned a simple biology lesson this week. How critical a thumb is. Yes, a THUMB!

My thumb was crushed earlier this week when a car door wedged it between a car frame and door. I was my own fault. I was between live shots and I was trying to help a news crew from Bismarck, ND restart their rental car. After the third attempt, the reporter, highly agitated, jumped out of the drivers seat, shut the car door and started swearing. With my poor thumb suddenly trapped, I joined her. But I believe I was louder.!

The damage was done. At first, it really didn’t hurt. That evening I slipped into bed with a small throbbing and awoke with a thumb the size of, well; circumcision wasn’t out of the question.

I was in extreme pain. Thank God, I was once a lefty, or I would have still been sitting on that toilet seat, trying to turn on the shower.

Buckling up my jeans then zipping them up became a labor of pain. I actually had to reach across my car’s steering column with my left hand to start the car. You don’t want to know how I buckled my seatbelt. It was becoming a chore to reach for my cup of morning coffee. To hold anything was a punishment. I started to realize that the thumb and forefinger was the most important digits on the hand.

Then the trip to the Dr’s that evening! 5 Minutes, a few x-rays and $1000 later I found out I was fine. I have no insurance so it is a cash option. I can see why Americans are against Public Health care. Who wants to spend that much money to discover you are fine! Good decision, USA.

I persevered through the morning shows, then painfully waited for the remaining assignments. I was luckily released and instructed to head home. The Aleve and coffee helped me to get home. The Bushmill Irish Whisky and beer helped me once I was home.

My thumb has now diminished to twice the size of my other thumb, I think by the time I am scheduled to work on Monday, I will be fine. I can already gives a thumbs-up then flip some off with no pain. I will loose the fingernail; I just do not know when it will happen. I just have to go with the flow.

The lesson I learned, do not lean on a car with an excitable reporter behind the wheel. And Do Not go to an Emergency Room with no insurance. They double the price!!!!!!!

Job Hunting

Last week, after some contemplation, I decided to put my resume online at monster.com. I have always been cautious about displaying information to countless eyes on the internet. But I rationalized that like “wanted posters” at the post office, lots of people can see them, but very few look.

The next morning, I opened up my email and was delighted to find a large number of job inquiries. Freelancing was to become a memory. A 9 to 5 job, sigh, was just around the corner.

 

I grabbed a cup of coffee, made myself comfortable and started pouring over the emails. I quickly found out that I will have to strengthen my spam filter. The first two emails I opened were impressed with my experience and was a perfect fit to become an “online financial advisor”.

The next group of emails were not that impressed and offered to help edit my resume to maximize efforts to get a job. They must have reconsidered because I also received emails, from the same companies, telling me my about several openings they had as a “contract resume advisor”.  So I could pay them to pay me to write my resume?

After reviewing all the emails spawned by my online resume, I began to realize that I really didn’t need to put up my complete resume; my email address alone qualified me for a large number of diverse jobs. The list was limitless and included an insurance actuary, a fine chef, a loan manager, a senior caretaker and (my favorite) a dance instructor on a cruise ship.

After spending an unproductive hour reading emails, taking my resume offline and reworking my spam filter, I actually found a company that decided to take a chance and hired me.

The Board of Recruitment Service Nigerian Liquefied Natural Gas (NLNG) expressed their congratulations that my application had been accepted, I had passed the screening process and they included an employment contract for me to sign. However, I will need to apply and pay for the necessary work permits with the Nigerian Immigration Service. They even provided a name and phone number of a person in their HR department who can streamline the process.

I can hardly wait to start my new career with them. I know I will quickly climbing the corporate ladder at this company. Because I will be the only person who knows how to use a SPELL CHECKER!

Snowing Once Again

There was a brand new foot of snow on the ground this morning. It was a kick in the gut. But the next kick was a little lower. Underneath that white mess was an inch of ice from the freezing rain the day before. My truck looked like a glacier after I brushed off the snow. I chipped away at the ice to gain access to my drivers’ side lock only to discover it was frozen solid. I had no way to get into my truck to warm it. I had to walk ½ mile down to the closest gas station (not to worry Travis, it was not a Citgo) only to discover they were out of ‘Lock De-Icer’. Seems they had a run on it that very morning.

After demonstrating to the clerk a good old Florida greeting, my solution was to buy a ‘Bic Lighter’, slog back to my ice coated truck and spend 20 minutes heating my car key then inserting it in the lock. I let out a triumphant chuckle when the lock finally released, but that sound quickly turned into insane babbling when I realized the door was unlocked, but still frozen shut!

I was still chipping, pulling, cussing and pounding when my neighbor walked by smiled and asked me if I was aware that Monday was the first day of Spring. Without waiting for an answer, she got into her “remotely started” pre-warmed car and pulled away.

Hanging from the side of my car like Spiderman, hands on the door handle, feet leveraged on the side quarter panel, I started screaming!

Do you think Jim and Phyllis would notice if I showed up for coffee one morning pretending like I had never left?

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm !

Trip Home from Florida

I almost spent another night in Atlanta. Airtran overbooked the flight and ask for volunteers to give up their seats. The reward was two free round trip tickets anywhere in the continental USA and a night’s stay at the Airport Marriott. I, being a generous humanitarian, bolted toward the desk screaming “ME ME PICK ME!”.

As I hurdled over waiting travelers, evaded overstuffed carry-on bags and pushed through impatient passengers, I spotted a large object moving at a high rate of speed out the corner of my eye. “Corner of my eye” is a bad description, “total eclipse of the sun” is a better depiction. I remember seeing this woman riding on the back of a leaning cart down Concourse D and praying she wasn’t on my flight. Not only was she a fellow passenger, we had our sights set on the same prize. Damn she was quick!

I increased my now unreasonable dash to the desk when a small child sucking on a juice box stepped in front of me, slowing me down just enough for Moby Dick to gain a half second advantage. That is all it took.

I rocked back and forth on my tiptoes trying to get the attendant’s attention, realizing I had to climb Mt McKinley before attaining that goal. The damage was done. As the sun reappeared and I stepped up to the ticket counter, the attendant looked up at me over his reading glasses, slowly moving his head from right to left. “Thank you for volunteering, but we have met our needs and do not need any more seats.”

I was crushed, 2 round trip tickets! GONE! I sighed (or sobbed, it was hard to tell), turned to reclaim my place at the end of the long boarding line and heard the attendant add, “There is a bright side. She was seated next to you on the plane.”

It did make the 2 hour plane ride little easier as the child with the juice box, whom got the seat next to me, howled in my ear most of the flight. His mother had no more juice after he spilled the first one, IN MY LAP!

I am already wishing I was back in Florida. I cracked open a beer tonight and instantly felt melancholy. Didn’t stop me from drinking it, but I would have enjoyed it more on the boat in the company of you guys.

THANK YOU, Jim and Phyllis for having us. Jim, it gets better and better every year. The first day's sail this year was AWESOME!!!!! I find myself planning for this trip earlier each year. Hell, this year I will probably start planning for March 2013 six months before I book March 2012.

SNOW AGAIN

OK, enough is enough. I woke up this morning to find an inch of snow on my truck. There was no warning, no sound of the Bobcat roaring around the parking lot , it was just, THERE!

It is hard to explain the irritation of brushing snow off your vehicle. You start at the drivers’ side using gloveless hands to clear a path to the door. The reason for the exposed paws, my gloves and snowbrush are inside the truck. Once the door is open, you must warm up your hands. I use the preferred Minnesota method of crossing the arms, sticking the hands in your armpits and hopping in place. I call it the “Morning Dance”. An out-of-state driver will see this and guess it is people impatiently waiting for a bus. No, it is only the beginning of a series of exercises to get you to work.

The next objective is to start your car. Sounds easy, doesn’t it. Well, it isn’t. You jump into the car and quickly slip on you gloves. It is important to keep them warm for upcoming tasks in this tiring ritual. Then you begin probing your pockets for the car keys and realize the gloves are hampering the effort. This leads to your first difficult question of the day. “Do I pull off the gloves, re-exposing the nearly frozen hands to the cold or not?”

Not a whole lot of options here. I usually start loudly damning an unnamed supreme being (thank you for the prays of absolution) and yank off one glove. I stuff the exposed hand in the pocket, predetermined earlier by a clumsy groping, and retrieve the cold keys.

Experience has taught me to keep the mitten off until you have started your vehicle. My truck complains briefly, then comes to life with a determined growl. I stuff my hand back into the glove, grab the snowbrush and jump out of the truck. It is all downhill now, but that hill is covered with ice.

I jumped out of my truck gripping the snow brush like a sword. I begin to swiped across the windshield but the wipers countered and with a simple swipe blasted snow into my face. My reaction was slow, but I was able to turned off the wipers. I then cautiously approached from the passenger side to finish the job. But I had switched the wipers to delay and the lifted right side wiper hit me in the nose as I stretched to wipe off the snow on that side. I am not a religious man, but people watching me may have thought so, I let loose with a few damnations of God and his family.  

Finally, My truck was warm and the snow wiped from it. I sat in the drivers’ seat relishing the warm and knowing I would be on time to my job. I step down on the accelerator to listen and see the rpms rise then started to slip into reverse when there was a knock at my window. I rolled it down and stared up at my neighbor standing at my car door.

“Isn’t this beautiful?” she says, “I love these type of mornings.”

All my anger dissolves. She saw this as a wonder, I as a curse. I am still learning in this frozen tundra. THANK GOD!

 

IT JUST STOP SNOWING

I woke up this morning, had a hot coffee and stared at the newly formed snowdrift hindering the view out my window. After one more cup I tossed on my coat and grabbed a broom with the intent to poke at piles of snow in search of my truck.   I didn’t have the fancy remote starter on my vehicle, so I avoided the snowdrifts making noise, found the most likely spot and started tunneling my way into the icy mountain. I took me 10 minutes to clear the drivers’ side, 20 seconds to realize it wasn’t my car and 30 minutes to burrow to the correct vehicle.

As I finished clearing off my truck, a snowflake slowly drifted down and landed on my nose. I looked up and realized it wasn’t alone. It was snowing again. Mother Nature doesn’t have a sense of humor, she is sadistic.

I mumbled a few choice words, turned off my truck and slowly made my way past cars that were once mounds of snow to get inside where it was warm. Entering the building, I held the door for a lady who stepped outside and said, “Looks like some nice person clear my drivers’ side, Thank you.”

A car pulled up and the passenger door swung open as she stepped to it. Before hopping in, she look back at me and said, “Too bad I am not the car pool today. You can finish the job later after you warm up.”

I watched the car-load of women slowly navigate out of the parking lot and swear to God, the sound of laughter came from the vehicle as it disappeared into the swirling snow.

It’s almost 6 o’clock and STILL SNOWING!!!!
 
Occasionally, I have returned to my truck to brush off the accumulating snow. Making sure that the icy collection ends up on the car next to me. I hope tomorrow is her turn for carpooling.


 

Winter is Back

Thursday, it was a toasty 40 degrees with the anticipation of 50 degrees in the immediate future. The next day the thermometer climbed up to a clammy 57 degrees. The weather people kept telling us records would have been broken if not for the melting snow cooling the air. We lost a lot of the snow cover and I could look out my window, over the vanishing snow banks and see the parking lot. Minnesotans were excited and outfitted in their Bermuda shirts, summer shorts and snow shoes. Spring was peeking around the corner!

Then something happened.

This morning, at 9am, it started snowing and snowing and snowing, it hasn’t stopped yet (10pm). The wind is gusting at 20 mph and creating a whiteout. I can no longer see the parking lot and not because of the blizzard. The previous retreating snowdrifts have crawled back to my window blocking the dull view. My poor truck is once more, one of many small mountains of snow rising up in the white landscape. The excessively jolly meteorologists are predicting 12 to 18 inches by tomorrow, THEN more snow Tuesday. It is a heavy snow, whatever that means. And what the HELL is thunder snow?

I am also hearing the familiar rumble of the Bobcat Loader in the parking lot, desperately trying to keep up with the rising snow. Behind the wheel is Jason,   the Bill Murray character out of Caddyshack. Whipping around the lot at breakneck speeds, creating bigger drifts and cussing when the Bobcat blade rips out another rising chunk of the weather-beaten asphalt lot. Occasionally he will slow down and stop near the trash bins to refuel the abused Bobcat and himself.

Earlier this winter, I had the pleasure of meeting Jason during one of his refueling stops. The Bobcat runs on diesel, Jason on “ Evan Williams”.   He owns six Bobcat Loaders and does snow removal in the winter, some construction during the summer. It is a family business because his two sons and wife also run the Bobcats. He won the Minnesota Lottery several years ago, quit his job and bought the Bobcats. He only does certain jobs for his friends and usually waits for the summer so he can launch his 36’ “Dream Weaver” boat and switch to “Captain Morgan’s”.   The guy is having fun and I was envious. We sit there topping off our antifreeze, his definition not mine, and talk about boating. It seems that “Dream Weaver is his pride and joy and loves Lake Minnetonka during the summer months. I asked him why he doesn’t head to Florida or Arizona during the winter. He took a nip for his bourbon, looked at me and stated he doesn’t   know anyone down there, what was the fun. He was born and raised in Mound/Spring Park, MN with no desire to change. His friends and family were here.

Now I am one of his friends with an invitation to spent a weekend (maybe two) on the “Dream Weaver” . I plan to introduce Jason to Bushmill and spend many weekends on the boat.

3 MORE WEEKS TIL FLORIDA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Lion Sleeps Tonight

My Dad was admitted to Hennepin County Medical Center Thursday afternoon. The story below took place between Sunday and Monday.


Monday 10:30 AM : I arrived at HCMC and stopped by the coffee shop and headed up to Dad’s room on the 5 th floor. I had just left several hours ago went home for a shave and shower, then slept for an hour. Less than 3 hours later, I have battled rush hour traffic and worked my way back to his room with a hot cup of coffee. I know I am exhausted, but I am the only family member available.

Dad was admitted Thursday afternoon with bleeding on the brain. After a battery of tests, they determine that Dad needs brain surgery to relieve the increasing pressure in the brain. That is the time my Sister goes into a convulsions and collapses in the consulting room. She is admitted to the ER and then transfer to Ridgeview MC, an hour away but closer to her dialysis center. That leaves me alone with the Doctor, the Chaplain and the decision.

The Doctor explained the options. We can chose aggressive treatments which would entail brain surgery to relieve the pressure. There is a fair chance he would survive but because of where the bleed is, he would probably lose memory and the ability to understand. Or we could remove his ventilator and give him drugs to make him comfortable The decision was up to the family and they would give us a few days to decided.

Monday 10:45AM : I enter Dad’s room where his breathing sounds a bit rough but what do you expect with a tube stuck up your nose. 10 minutes later a social worker pays a visit. They would like to move him to a nursing home and ask me if I have any preferences. I express my wish to try and find a place closer to my Sister’s home. She said she would see what could be done and quickly disappears down the hall.
I settle back into a chair at the foot of Dad’s bed and watch him for a few minutes then pull out my computer and sign on to the free wifi .

Sunday 8:30 am : I visit my Sister at Ridgeview MC,   but she is filled with drugs and still pretty much out of it. I sit down with my brother-in-law and I explain to him the options I have been given. I have actually made my decision and Gary agrees. He assures me that my Sister will agree. That only leaves my Brother.

Sunday 10:30am : As I head to HCMC I give my brother a call to try and explain the options. He answers the phone and appears to be VERY stoned or drunk. After a few attempts at repeating who I am, a woman names Jackie takes over the phone. She explains to me that Phil’s (my brother) Dad is in the hospital and he is in no condition to talk. I explain to her I am his brother and would like to talk with him about his Dad. Jackie starts to apologize then set the phone down. I then listen to a conversation about ‘How crunchy Cheetos are’ for 5 minutes before I hung up. I tried shortly after I got to HCMC but no one answered.

Sunday 1:30pm : I am sitting in a room full of Doctors as they try and explain to me Dad’s condition. I swear to God, there are 4 Doctors, 1 Chaplain, 1 social worker and 6 interns. There is a x-ray of Dad’s brain on the screen and each Doctor is trying to explain every detail with a small laser pointer. After the first Doctor, my mind begins to shuts down and I start staring at one of the cute interns. She is very cute. Actually, they are all cute and wearing thin scrubs . At this point, I just do not care. Finally the Chaplain ask how my Sister is and the social worker wants to know if any more of my family coming. There is an uncomfortable moment of silence as they wait for an answer.

I glance at the clock. 1:45pm. Stand up and , God help me, start to talk. “Our family has decided on pulling the ventilator and letting nature take its course. My Dad would have wanted it this way.” I choked a sob back and slowly sink back down into the chair. The social worker tells me that the rest of the family should be here for that kind of decision. The Chaplain shuffles her away and returns later to express his sympathies.

Sunday 2:30pm - The ventilator is removed and I stand next to his bed and start to cry like a baby. No family around, just me. GOD, I hope I made the right decision. It is hard to stand in a room by yourself, knowing you just signed your Dad’s life away. I was hoping for some family support.

I expected him to pass on quickly that evening. But Dad wouldn’t leave without demonstrating his stubbornness one more time.

Monday 2pm : I sit there surfing the net on the free wifi . The nurse steps in and tells me she is be going to lunch but will return at 3 pm. I nod and smile. I get up and adjust Dad’s blanket and pointlessly ask him if he is ok. Then return to my corner seat.

Monday 2:30pm : I am getting use to Dad’s labored breathing but suddenly it just stops. I looked at Dad and watch his face quickly turn white. I froze and stared at his chest. It wasn’t moving. I wait a few minutes then slowly got out of the seat and walked over to his right side moved the covers away and took hold of his arm. I could feel the heat leaving. I lean over and kissed his forehead and said “I love you” then burst into tears.

DAD WAS GONE!

After I regain my composure I step out of the room to the nurses’ station and informed the nurse. She followed me back in and expressed her sympathy and left to call the Doctor.

The next half hour was a blur. The nurse, the doctor, the social worker, the chaplain all seemed to move in and out of my vision and the room. I just stood and stared at the body that my Dad once inhabited. I would cried, I would wipe away the tears, I would nod at the condolences, I would stare at the body, I would stare out the window. During that time I called my brother-in-law, my cousin and other relatives. I was numb .

After about 30 minutes every one seem to dissolve away accept for the chaplain. He stood there quietly for a few minutes then ask if I would like to say a pray over Dad’s body. I thought about it for a few moments then said no. I really did appreciate the chaplain’s presence but I didn’t know how to express it. He was the one solid object I had to cling to as I the world I knew had dramatically change. From then on, nothing would ever be the same. Dad was gone. I just wanted to be alone and far away from there.

The chaplain slowly faded away and I was left alone in the room with my Dad’s body. I eased into a chair near the window and started crying. I struggled to regain some composure then just stared at Dad’s body. The thoughts that ran through my head I either do not remember or do not want to explain. All I can tell you that it was painful yet calming.

I had lost track of time, but the real world decided to snap me back when a gurney pushed through the curtain guided by a young intern wearing earphones attached to an ipod . Both of us were surprised.  He yanked off the headsets and apologized and ask if I needed more time.

I shook my head and told him to continue. He looked at me cautiously and ask if I could step out of the room. I forced a smile and didn’t move. He nodded his understanding, slipped his headsets back on and carefully transferred the body to his gurney. He tighten the straps, aimed the stretcher out the door then paused. He removed the headsets once more to expressed his condolences and asked if I needed anything. I answered with a small smile and shake of the head, he nodded his understanding, threw the privacy curtain aside and moved out of the room.

I returned to staring at a now empty hospital bed.

Again time passed without awareness. Eventually the attending nurse entered the room and asked me if I was ok. I wasn’t, but I nodded a positive answer. I got up from the chair and she step to me and gave me a hug. I choked back growing tears and mumbled “Thank You”.

Arm in arm, she led me out of the room and we separated in the hallway. She tells me that my Dad must have been a good father to have a son like me. I forced another smile, slipped on my sunglasses to hide my grief and started toward the elevators.   It was 6pm.

The old Lion roars no more.

Wayne S. Zumwalt
1924 – 2010
R.I.P. (I miss you)

A Day with Dad

He sits there reading a book called “Red Hot Mamas Do Menopause with Style”. Well, reading is a slight stretch. He just picks up the book and turns pages until another book on the light stand grabs his attention. He will pick that book up and leaf through it. Eventually he will make it back to the book “Red Hot Mama” , laugh and ask me if I have read this book. My answer will always be ‘no’ which is followed by the response about how he thinks it is a good book because of the title.

My Dad isn’t a speed reader nor is he a zealous reader. He has just become forgetful. It is the early stages of dementia.

He will hum a nondescript tune and slowly turn the pages which he has little interest in except the book covers and titles. This is broken up with short naps and the occasional question to me about what would I like to do.

This is a loaded question and can be interpreted in several ways.

The correct interpretation is “I would like to get out of here!”

Lord Fletcher's Visit

It was time for a trip to Lord Fletchers (www.lordfletchers.com). I cannot afford this place all the time, so I save up some money and treat myself about once a month. A visit is always interesting. I like to sit out at ‘The Wharf’ and watch the powerboats glide filled with large balanced credit cards clinching to their owners. Each passenger is sporting customized indoor tans and looking like an old leather couches found at a garage sale.

The docks comes to life as swimsuit clad teenagers (girls as well as boys) snap up up boat lines tossed from approaching boats and quickly secure them to the slips. For their efforts, the smiling boat owners hand out cash to the eager helpers and head for the bar. You can normally guess the size of the tip, by how the amount of time the smile remain on the dock helpers faces once the boat owner steps away.
 
I have been there several times and started to notice the same faces in the same places. The regulars have their well worn seats at the bar and seem to have a lot of money and time to entertain a rotating assortment of guests. A walk through the parking lot will reveal the customer base. Custom license plates which read ‘TEDDY’, ‘NATE 58’ and ‘NAH TE’ attached to large SUVs, BMWs and Lexus sedans.

The bartenders are all college-age women, dressed in tight white shorts and tight fitting t-shirts. When the temperature changes, you don’t need a thermometer to know it. Just a dark pair of sunglasses to hide your focused gaze.
 
The $15 Maine lobsters dinners are new this year and usually available every Wednesday from 4pm to 9pm. They ran out of lobster by the time I showed up the other day. I am not a big lobster fan and was thrilled when they offered me a walleye fillet for $10 as a substitute. Walleye is the regional fish which is very expensive and GOOD!
 
For now, I will sit here, slowly drinking my $5 Budweiser and pray for a sudden rainstorm each time a waitress passes my table.

A Well Used Channel

I have been out the last few days walking on water.

Well…. Frozen water. I was walking around snapping some photos of an outdoor sport that I do not understand. I have a few on flickr.com and I decided to include a couple which shows you the craziness, stupidity, I don’t know. I will let you guys decide with these 2 photos.

This is a well used channel which is used by snowmobiles, pickups, cars and hikers. It is a cut through to Black Lake and I was about to make my way through it when I felt the ice move. I backed up slowly and studied the pathway. The included photos are what I found. I went the long way around………………

My Last Few Weeks

I entered the ER with visions of every TV Show I have seen in the last several years. I was disappointed.

There was no screaming CODE RED! I never heard the words IV or STAT. But I was quickly herded into a room where my Dad lay in a rather impressive hospital bed, with tubes and wires shooting out everywhere. My Sister stood next to the bed with a trouble look that told me she was not thinking only reacting.

Moments before, I had been briefed on the situation and knew my Dad was going to pull through, but I was worried for the nurses who had to take care of him for the duration of his stay. He had fallen, hit his head and got 12 stitches to remind him of his instability. If it was me, they would have sent me home that evening (probably after I sobered up). But when you are 87 years old, that nasty bump on the head includes a collection of medical tests to determine if you are clumsy or your body is failing you.

During these testy moments, my Dad is…. Well, Dad. This man could be holding his severed right leg and wonder what all the fuss was about. Every 2 minutes he would try and sit up and say he was fine. He would occasionally pepper that with the occasional “It’s time to go. I don’t like it here.”

My Sister was standing next to him countering every movement with a gentle comment like a skilled swordsman. But I could see the strain. Her optimistic manner was mechanical. I looked at Gary (her husband) and he was watching her like a hawk with a nervous look. I should have seen it.

With a wavy of his hand, Dad’s doctor motioned me outside the ICU room. I started to follow when I heard Gary yell my Sister’s name. I looked around and saw her lying across my Dad’s lap. Gary had a hold of her arm and shoulder.

Suddenly I became a doorway of sorts. The doctor blew past my right shoulder; several nurses blew past my left shoulder. I actually heard on the intercom “CODE BLUE”. This would have been cool other than the fact that my Sister was quickly being surrounded by hospital personal. I started to step into the room and was pushed away as another impressive stretcher with even more people shot passed me.

I just happened to look at my Dad saw something I hadn’t seen in a long time.    He was holding my Sister’s head and barking instructions at the group attending to Cheryl. He was Dad again. It didn’t matter that no one was listening to him. In his mind, he was in control. I couldn’t hear what he was saying. But every order was completed, every command was obeyed, every demand was completed. At least in his mind and that is what was essential.

In the end, my Sister ended up 2 rooms down in the same hospital. She was dehydrated after her dialysis that day and the stress of Dad’s injury pushed her to a collapse. She spent the same number of days in the hospital and she was just as stubborn as my Dad. I think Waconia was glad to see this family leave. One nurse (a cute one I might add) stated that there was a coin toss each evening to see who got that wing. She said it was uncomfortably close to Russian roulette.

Yesterday, Dad and Cheryl got to go home. As Gary and I wheeled out our recovering relatives, both of us swore to God we heard the clicking lock on the hospital doors as we exited. My Dad was telling me no one paid attention to him while my Sister proclaiming the cooking there sucked! Both Gary and I were just happy we didn’t have to visit the hospital again.
As I headed to Dad’s place that evening, my nephew called. Phil (my brother) had another stroke that evening.   (His 3 rd ) Trevor wanted me to come down there to help!!!!!!

Guess where I am headed next week? !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DAMN. Someday I am going to try and work!

 

My First.....................

Yesterday, I was introduced to black ice. I know the term but have rarely experienced it. I was on Hwy 7 headed for I-494 when suddenly the back of my truck decided it wanted to be the front.

The result was a 360 spin and two 180s in different directions.   The cars behind me were now in front, then they were behind, occasionally I caught glimpses of the now familiar cars out my passenger side window.

During those sluggish several seconds, was my life passing before my eyes?     NO!

Was I screaming like a terrified kid?     Maybe, I don’t remember.

But I do remember (Jim, you can relate) reaching for my hot cup of coffee so it wouldn’t spill!   Yes, I was reaching for coffee and still trying to steer out of the spin with my left hand. That did nothing other than to show people watching, I was attempting to do something. (and in the back of my mind, give the impression I knew what I was doing!)

I ended up in the middle of the median facing the direction I was headed. I took a quick sip of my coffee, put on a nervous grin and looked around. I had hit nothing, no car, no guard rail and no sign. NOTHING!

DAMN, I was impressed with myself. Other drivers also seemed impressed. I noticed several made special efforts to gesture that I was NUMBER 1 as they drove by.

I got out and quickly realized that I wasn’t going to just drive away. I had slid into a large snow drift. I knew from experience that if I had trouble with a parking spot, I had no chance in this situation. With a small camping shovel and a bag of Puerto Rico sand, I started the task of working my way to the highway. It was much like trying to get out of the parking spot but involved no drifting. Just spinning of tires, actually I should say tire. Only one would spin.

After about an hour of this, I had actually made some progress. I have moved about a foot closer to the road. At that rate, I knew I would be out by morning, if I didn’t run out of gas. But the falling temperature was cooling my enthusiasm. I was becoming aware of the 30 mph wind blowing more snow into my ditch and it was hard to keep up with a small shovel.

The solution appeared underneath flashing blue lights. The local policemen pulled up, turned on his lights and ask a question straight out of the law enforcement manual.

Hey, what are you doing down there?

My mind quickly came up with a large number of smart-ass responses, almost over-riding the rational judgment you need when dealing with law enforcement. I stared at him for a second or two, then pushed aside the “burying a body” response and told him I was stuck.

It was his turn to stare at me for a second or two. Those seconds allowed me to put on a silly grin and describe my handicap, I am from the South. It resulted with a perceptive smile and the offer to help me.

He walked around my truck accessing the situation and telling me how lucky I was that there was no damage. He said something on the radio, I think he called a wrecker and then asks me to try again. After a spin, he asks if he could try. I jump out; he gets behind the wheel and gets the same results. I told him to try one more time as I push and suddenly my truck is free.

He got out of my truck and offered me the drivers’ seat; I thanked him over and over again.   I could see in his eyes that he wanted to lecture me about driving in this weather, but didn’t want to interrupt the tributes. So I continued with the gratitude as I jumped into my truck, shifted into gear and slowly pulled out on the road. He stood there watching me pull away, cancelled the wrecker on the radio, shook his head and got back into his warm cruiser.

And me. Well, I was going home immediately. That is after I accomplished my original drive to Starbucks, sit next to their fireplace, watch it snow and have a cup of coffee!

Whining in the North

On Christmas Eve I woke up to 12 inches of snow. Then just to add to the mix, I step out my door and stared at a number of huge piles of snow not really knowing which one contained my truck. It wasn’t that I had forgotten where I parked the night before, just the landscape had changed. I started brushing off the snow and chipping away at the ice hoping my car door wasn’t frozen

Occasionally, a pile of snow would whine a few times and then roar to life as a car engine deep within would start. Apparently, remote starters are all the rage up North! I looked around and notice people watching me out the window, remote starter in one hand a hot cup of coffee in the other. I seem to be the entertainment that morning and the show was just getting started.

I, like Travis, religiously defend my ability as a good driver. It was tested today and shattered with my inability to get out of a parking spot. YES, I could not get out of the parking SPOT!

I tried to back out and would drifted to the left. I adjusted the steering try again and drifted to the right. I would periodically jump out, shovel frantically at snow around the tires, jump back in and repeat the process. This went on for some time before I began to noticed more spectators at the windows, sipping their hot coffee and smiling. I swear to God, the Today Show’s rates dropped that morning.

After awhile, I was beginning to accept the inevitable when a mother herding her three kids appeared and began brushing off the snow on their mini-van in front of me. She must have been watching for some time because she came over and informed me her husband and two older boys (must be Catholic with 5 kids) would be out shortly to help. Then piled the kids in her van, backup and drove away like the roads were clear.

Shortly afterward, the promised helpers showed up and I was free of my icy parking spot. I thanked the snickering helpers and headed off to the local hardware store to purchase, ready for this, SAND! I was told to put some weight in the back of my truck so I purchased two 100lb sacks of sand, imported from Puerto Rico and bagged in St. Paul, MN. Now anytime I feel the need to go to the tropics, I will just warm up my truck, mix a margarita, slip into my shorts and relax on the sand in the back of my truck. There is something just not right up North!

Christmas is Here

Last week, I had lunch with a local TV News reporter who has a lot of media contacts in town. She brought her 2 year old daughter along with the intention of getting some photos with Santa at the mall.

It was a productive lunch because she was able to point me in a few different directions in my quest for work. But her daughter kept staring at me. At first I figured she wondered who this strange person was seated next to her. But the stares continued for the duration of the lunch. Occasionally the child would awkwardly offer me a French fry or a mini hot dog. I would graciously accept the partially eaten morsel   of food which would generate a squeal and kicking of her little legs. I had to admit, well, she had me after the second happy yelp.

The lunch continued this way for the next 45 minutes. The large wide eye stare, the nervous offerings and the squeals of delight, sprinkle in between a few job leads and career suggestions. It was one of the oddest lunches I have ever attended. But the oddest part came later that day when the mother called. She apologized for her youngster and said I made the her daughter’s day. At the daycare center that afternoon, she bragged to her classmates that she knew Santa and had lunch with him that afternoon. The fact she had her picture taken with Santa was never mentioned! Damn, I really do need to trim my beard.

Yesterday morning I woke up to -9 degrees with a wind chill making it feel like -25. It was time to get some thermal underwear. So I put on my heaviest t-shirts, several pairs of pants and started toward the nearest Target. On the way I discovered another incentive to get warmer clothing, my Explorer wasn’t pumping out any heat! Yep, my thermostat is out according to my brother-in-law. Considering the Minnesota weather, I have no idea when it went out. So as I drive around this week I will be behind the wheel wearing both pairs of the thermal underwear I purchased and my brand new hooded down coat. I will have so much clothing on that if I get broadsided by another vehicle, I won’t even know it! Hell I don’t even have to put my gloved hands on the steering wheel, just lean in the direction I want to turn.

I took a chance and walked on the iced over lake yesterday, dressed in my new winter wear. I fought back the panic and strutted out there like I knew what I was doing. I looked fearless then, I heard the cracking sound of ice. Suddenly my crotch got warmer and I was on talking terms with God.

I must have looked like a cartoon character as my legs blurred into circles in my efforts to get to the nearest ground. I moved, but not where I wanted to go. I landed face first on the ice and heard the ice crack again! This was it! I was going to die in at oversized frozen margarita. IF WASN’T FAIR!

Then several amused ice skaters glided over and pushed my curled up form off the frozen lake. There I tried to regain some pride and mumbled something about a twisted ankle. They all giggled in agreement and skated away without a hint of fear.   Behind them a snowmobile shot across the ice as if to dare me to try again.

I have determined to try again. Next week, after there has been another week of sub-zero temperatures.   Maybe………………..

(Side Note: I was told that the sound of cracking ice is normal. That can be heard all season long and some people find it relaxing. SOME people………….)

I have included a photo for the frozen tundra for your pleasure. It should end up on flickr.com when I get a chance to touch it up.


Have a Merry Christmas everyone.

Winter Supplies

It started as one or two falling flakes here and there. I really didn’t notice until one landed on my nose, perch there momentarily to get my attention then disappeared. The introduction was brief but the visit promised to be lengthy. IT WAS SNOWING!

“Oh, God, what shall I do? I’ve got to get supplies. Yes, that is it, I have to get supplies. Try and remain calm and head to the store and get bread and milk.”   I told myself.

The man ringing a bell for attention, steadied his red bucket as I rush past through the door. The girl behind the counter with a look of boredom watched as I skidded past the register. I caught my breath and took a quick look around. THERE WAS NO BREAD OR MILK ANY WHERE! I was doomed. I will be a starving icicle by the end of the evening. What insane reasoning made me move to Minnesota?

“Can I help you find something?”ask the cheerful clerk in the ill-fitting red shirt.

“Do you have any bread? Milk? Something? ANYTHING?” I said quickly as I turned to him resisting the urge to grab his shoulders.

His smile was replaced by a nervous grin as he glanced around fearfully looking for assistance. “Sir, you are in Ace Hardware. Cub Foods is next door and may have what you are looking for.” He then spotted an out, spun around to face a rational shopper, reattached his smile and voiced his willingness to help.

With considerably less flare, I slipped passed the bored cashier and left the store. Then started running across the parking lot. Passing my car I noticed snow had collected on my windshield and increased my speed toward Cub Foods.

As I pushed through the automatic doors, snatch a shopping cart and weaved around slower shoppers, I started to noticing things. There wasn’t anxious crowds at the checkouts. Shoppers didn’t have expressions of fear, agitation and panic. Some shoppers didn’t even have bread or milk in their carts!

I rounded the corner and squealed in delight at all the bread along the aisle. There was white bread, wheat bread, Italian bread and french bread. Even better, there was a person restocking the shelves with more bread.

“Thank God, it is snowing out there and I need to get some bread and milk. I guess I beat the crowd.” I timidly said to the bread stocker.

He looked up at me smirked and said, “Yea, the "CROWD". What part of the South are you from, son? “

I told him I moved up from Georgia as I scooped up several loaves of bread try to calculating the strength of the approaching storm. I then noticed people passing through the aisle and not even looking at the bread.   The helpful stock-boy interrupted my slowly developing revelation and point me toward the milk.

He tipped his purple Viking hat to me as I passed and said something that sent chills up my spine, “Here in the North we usually stock up on beer.”

DAMN IT! I yelled as I spun around and headed for the front of the store.

As I blew past the stock-boy once again he yelled, “Hey, you forgot your cart.”

So now I stand here with no bread, no milk and try to decide if the snow storm is a 12-pack or 24-pack. Oh, what the hell, I will take that 30-Pack!!!!!


Let it snow, Let it snow, Let it snow………………………………..

Minnesota Winters

I didn’t write this, I just wish I had……….


Dear Diary:

Aug 12 - Moved into my new home in Minnesota. It is so beautiful here. The hills and river valleys are so picturesque. I have a beautiful old oak tree in my front yard. I can hardly wait to see the change in the seasons. This is truly God's Country.
Oct 14 - Minnesota is such a gorgeous place to live, one of the real special places on Earth. The leaves are turning a multitude of different colors. I love all of the shades of reds, oranges and yellows, they are so bright. I want to walk through all of the beautiful hills and spot some white tail deer. They are so graceful; certainly they must be the most peaceful creatures on Earth. This must be paradise.
Nov 11 - Deer season opens this week. I can't imagine why anyone would want to shoot these elegant animals. They are the very symbol of peace and tranquility here in Minnesota. I hope it snows soon. I love it here!
Dec 2 - It snowed last night. I woke to the usual wonderful sight: everything covered in a beautiful blanket of white. The oak tree is magnificent. It looks like a postcard. We went out and swept the snow from the steps and driveway. The air is so crisp, clean and refreshing. We had a snowball fight. I won, and the snowplow came down the street. He must have gotten too close to the driveway because we had to go out and shovel the end of the driveway again. What a beautiful place. Nature in harmony. I love it here!
Dec 12 - More snow last night. I love it! The plow did his cute little trick again. What a rascal. A winter wonderland. I love it here!
Dec. 19 - More snow - couldn't get out of the driveway to get to work in time. I'm exhausted from all of the shoveling. And that snowplow!

Dec 21 - More of that white shit coming down. I've got blisters on my hands and a kink in my back. I think that the snowplow driver waits around the corner until I'm done shoveling the driveway. Asshole!
Dec 25 - White Christmas? More freakin' snow! If I ever get my hands on the son-of-a-bitch who drives that snowplow, I swear I'll castrate him. And why don't they use more salt on these roads to melt this crap??
Dec 28 - It hasn't stopped snowing since Christmas. I have been inside since then, except of course when that SOB 'Snowplow Harry' comes by. Can't go anywhere, cars are buried up to the windows. Weather man says to expect another 10 inches. Do you have any idea how many shovelfuls 10 inches is??
Jan   1 - Happy New Year? The way it's coming down it won't melt until the 4th of July! The snowplow got stuck down the road and the shit head actually had the balls to come and ask to borrow a shovel! I told him I'd broken 6 already this season.
Jan   4 - Finally got out of the house. We went to the store to get some food and a goddamn deer ran out in front of my car and I hit the bastard. It did $3,000 in damage to the car. Those beasts ought to be killed. The hunters should have a longer season if you ask me.
Jan 27 - Warmed up a little and rained today. The rain turned the snow into ice and the weight of it broke the main limb of the oak tree in the front yard and it went through the roof. I should have cut that old piece of shit into fireplace wood when I had the chance.
Apr 23 - Took my car to the local garage. Would you believe the whole underside of the car is rusted away from all of that damn salt they dump on the road? Car looks like a bashed up, heap of rusted cow shit.
May 10 - Sold the car, the house, and moved to Florida. I can't imagine why anyone in their freakin' mind would ever want to live in the God forsaken State of Minnesota

Finally the Deer Shot, Don't tell O'Brien

I promised you a photo of the angry doe. Well here she is.

I spotted this small herd of deer while hiking at Fort Snelling State Park. The 6-point buck about knocked me down running across the trail. I grabbed my monopod and started stalking the herd. Surprisingly, they move very slowly. I really wanted another shot of the buck, but this doe stomped out into the clearing and snored her disapproval. I actually had time to set up a tripod before she snored again and started stomping toward me. I shot a few photos and then backed off. The DNR Ranger (who loved my photo) told me she was probably protecting a fawn and would have attacked. I was wise to back off. I just wish the buck would have reappeared.

If you wonder where I get my sense of humor, it is from my Dad. I discovered that Thursday evening.

He has his good and bad days. Up until Saturday he was, well, Dad. Sunday and today he slid back to basically being an old man who struggled to know who I was. He didn’t remember Thanksgiving (that is all he talked about for 2 days) and kept asking me if I knew about our brother who was killed in WWII. (My Uncle Philip died in New Zealand in 1942 during a classified mission.) I corrected him several times, telling him I was his son. He got quiet for about a 30 minutes, then announced he would like to do something.

I loaded him up and went for coffee at a local coffee shop. There he grumbled about the cost of coffee, eyeballed the waitress and announced my availability along with his desire for a grandson. After the waitress slipped me a fake number that we both did to quiet Dad down (she was a high school student for God sake) my matchmaker Dad was happy and ready to go back. He actually likes it at the assisted living home. He just has moments where he thinks it is boring and time to leave. I guess I am here to remind him how good he really has it there.

Now let’s step back to my wonderful Thanksgiving holiday. There is a side note on the sunset photo story that happened the next day. Cheryl, my Sister, hosted this rare family moment and wishes to top it for Christmas. She wants our Brother Phil up here for the next holiday meal. His son is working and unable to bring his father up here for Thanksgiving. She suggested I drive down to pick Phil up and bring him up to celebrate Christmas with the entire family, then return him to the nursing home the next day. When I mentioned to her that that is a 6 hour trip and I would be spending 24 hours on the road in 3 days, she sharply ask, “Did you have any other plans over the holidays?”

DOH!

Thanksgiving Sunset

I was taking my Dad back to his place after a GREAT Thanksgiving dinner (my first with the family in 30 years), we pulled away from my Sister’s house and saw a gorgeous sunset. I quickly jumped out of the car, grabbed my camera and started snapping away. My poor Dad sat in my car patiently waiting for me to finish. I spent about 15 minutes getting a variety of shots and slipped into the driver’s seat impressed with the evening sky.

My Dad looked at me and said, “You acted like that was the last sunset you would be seeing.”

“Did you see that sunset?” I questioned.

“Yes and I would like to see more. Set the emergency brake next time you hop out of the car.”

I glanced down and noticed he had his foot firmly pressed against the brake pedal. I quietly replaced his foot with mine, started the car and shifted it into gear. As I drove down the road my Dad quietly muttered to himself, “And they took away MY car keys!”

Needless to say, Dad was having one of his better days.

The three attached photos were taken (according to my father) at great risk to his well being. I hope you enjoy them.

A Fowl Day

Look what I found today. A young female bald eagle. I was wandering down the Pike Island Trail on the Mississippi River side and looked up and spotted the eagle sitting on a branch. I grabbed a few shots from behind then quietly made my way to the river bank and walked right up to her. She watched me closely but seemed a little more interested in the river. I snapped a bunch of photos hoping it would fly off to get a fish or something. This bird was HUGE! You do not realize it until you are right there upon them. It must have been 3 foot tall.

I stood there for about 10 minutes photographing the bird, waiting for it to make a move. It suddenly pushed off from the branch and swooped toward me. It scared me shitless and I quickly dropped to one knee hoping she wasn’t after me. Then she banked sharply toward the river and was gone. And did I get that wonderful shot? No! My camera battery died and I was in the process of changing it out when she decided to spread her wings.

I called my sister who worked at that state park (Fort Snelling) and related my experience. She laughed and said it was probably a hawk. Cheryl said that there were a couple of young eagles about 10 miles down the river, but I was too close to the city to see bald eagles. Later that day, I wandered into the visitor center for the park where everyone had heard the story and was having a good laugh about my “adventure”. I showed them the photos and they suddenly were asking me a lot of questions like where, when, descriptions. Then several rangers headed out with GPS and cameras to search out the young eagle.

My sister has called me twice tonight asking for copies of the series of shots. She explained that they were able to spot is again, but couldn’t get close enough to see if it is one of the young eagles from down river. They seem to be excited that they have a bald eagle visiting their park.

Well, I have new photos from my visit to Fort Snelling State Park. I am hoping they will be as interested in them as they seem to be with my eagle photos.