Afternoon Commute

Last night after work I ran a few errands and spent a few minutes at the gym. I wanted to get home before dark so I could check on my chickens without a flashlight. I was trying to relax and get out of work mode. I have a million options on which route to take home. I can take the highway or the back roads. Every way home has advantages and disadvantages. I know the roads are busy. I know I will wait for something. I can wait for kids to get off a school bus. I can wait for a 120 box car train to roll by. I can avoid waiting for the train by taking another road but then I will wait for traffic. One obstacle I face every work day is the Rum River. I have to cross the Rum unless I go the long way and cross the Mississippi twice. Last night I idled in my car above the Rum River for many minutes. I doubt it was five minutes I was in one place on Bunker Lake Boulevard but it felt like five minutes.  My mind wandered. I glanced to my right. Exploring the western bank of the Rum River were Mr. and Mrs. Trumpeter Swan with their cygnet offspring. As they paddled upstream they clung close to shore and stuck their heads in the water here and there. The trio of beautiful white swans reminded me of angels. I wondered what they were talking about for surely they were communicating to each other. Maybe they were debating whether to stay in Minnesota for the winter or migrate south. Maybe they were trying to decide what to have for supper. Maybe the parents were giving the cygnet life lessons about the dangers of human beings. Traffic moved forward and so did I. I rolled ahead 20 feet and came to a stop again. I was still above the Rum River. Now I was above a backwater area of the  Rum that is part of a park in the city of Ramsey. I thought I saw three plastic bags in the backwater close to the cattails. Then I thought how strange it was that there were three very large plastic bags in the same spot.One of the plastic bags moved and a swan neck emerged. Then I realized here were three more Trumpeter swans having a snack. I was looking at the south end of three Trumpeters who were facing north with their heads under water.  Again it was a pair of adults with a cygnet. Wow. How lucky am I that I get to see six angelic Trumpeter swans! These are the largest birds in North America. I must have done something good today to deserve this sighting of six Trumpeter swans on this day on this bridge at this moment in time. Traffic moved ahead.  I drove home.  All thoughts of work had left my mind.

Most Annoying Things Said To Me Lately

• 1. You should have known that. (Well, forgive me for living, Geez Louise)
• 2. You already told me that. (So put me in a memory care unit asap).
• 3. I worry about you. (Worry about yourself for Pete's sake!)
• 4. Where is that idea coming from? (From me!  I am a genius!)
• 5. Why did s(he) say that? (Do I look like a mind reader?)
• 6. Don't say Polack in Poland (Sign me up for sensitivity training again).
• Everything in parentheses was filtered and not said aloud but now I am rethinking the third one.  Maybe the third one isn't annoying.  Maybe the third one is a sign that someone cares about me. Maybe I am an important person to someone close to me.

Happy Halloween!

One of my best friends left me a message on my work voice mail this morning.  I was not expecting to hear two inappropriate Halloween jokes and a riddle on my work voice mail at 7 o'clock in the morning. I was confused, then amused, and then I was laughing out loud.  I could not see clearly because my eyes were full of water. I told my office neighbor.  She texted half the joke to her mother in Longville, Minnesota.  Her mother came back with an even more inappropriate response than the one I had. So then we were both laughing so hard we couldn't talk. Now this terrible, inappropriate joke is going all around the senior citizens in Longville.  Next I called a family member and told her the inappropriate joke.  Now the same terrible joke is going around Roseville.  What a day I have had.  Unexpected pleasures keep coming at me when I least expect it.  I will give you the first part of the joke and you come up with your own answer.  Why don't witches have babies? Answer: _________________________________________.

One of These Eggs Is Not Like The Other!

What Defines A Bad Day?

This morning I went to the gym to lift weights before work.  I walked on the stair master for just a short while.  One other fella was on the stairs with me.  I didn't look closely but he was about 30.  He had headphones in his ears and was looking at a device.  At about 3 minutes before I was going to be done he loudly proclaimed "G__ Dammit!" He might not have known how loud he was because of the headphones but he sounded like a 7 year old boy about to have a meltdown. I don't know if anyone else heard him. I kept staring ahead.  I was trying to walk these stairs with good posture. A minutes later he repeats the cuss word with the same emotional upheaval and volume. I want to look at him but don't so I roll my eyes right and get a glimpse.  He's looking down into the phone. Why is he upset?  Is he looking at sports or politics or his bank account? Did he just get dumped?  Did his dog die? I go back to focusing on my posture.  I have about 7 seconds left on this machine and again he loudly wails, "G-- Dammit!" Ok, now it's funny.  I want to laugh out loud. I use my filter.  I finish my steps.  I'm breathing a little hard but I do not laugh as I dismount. I purse my lips tightly and feel sorry for this guy although I don't know why. I smile as I walk to the dressing room and I go to work where I want to tell this story to someone.  But I don't do that. At work the topic is the homeless man that has been hanging around our building and walking up and down the street.  His story is a sad one.  Here is a man who needs help and the authorities know he needs help and no help is given in a way he can accept. I have walked by him many times and said hello not knowing his difficulties.  I just admire his newsboy hat and his purposeful stride.  We all have bad days.  Our feelings about our bad days are valid. For me it helps me feel better to hear about someone else who has it worse.

Breakfast of Champions

I used to read Kurt Vonnegut, Jr., back in the day, back in the 1970's. I didn't remember which books but I remember I liked his writing enough to read more.  I read quite a few of his books.  So I saw this one, Breakfast of Champions, on the library shelf and picked it up expecting I would like it as much as an old fashioned dinner of comfort food.  I was wrong. I did not like this book. In fact I was shocked and appalled by this book. I read it on CD and actually turned it back into the library because I was disgusted and confused. I accidentally left one CD in my car and the library called me back. I had to go back into the library and talk to the librarian. I explained what happened. She said she understood.  She said she could not read that book herself unless it was on CD. The fact that she said she could not read that book made me want to read that book.  If a librarian can hardly stand it, I felt the need to read this book. So I finished it. The fact that Stanley Tucci read it to me helped quite a bit. I could picture Stanley reading with his dark glasses and bald head. What else helped me finish it was to relax and quit trying to make sense of the story because there is no sense to be made. The plot?  What plot? Relax and read between the lines. Vonnegut talks about race in a way I never heard before (or maybe I did hear it before but I can't remember anymore). The writer makes snarky remarks about Nelson Rockefeller Jr. and if I just substituted the name of our current president in that sentence it was funny as all get out. This book was published in 1973.  The problems in our nation remain the same in 2017 as 1973. The names of the politicians have changed.  We have more Honda's on the road and fewer Oldsmobile Toronado's but other than that, life in the US of A remains basically unchanged. I would not recommend you read this book unless you like to be shocked, provoked, disgusted, confused, amazed, and disillusioned. At the end of the book there is an interview with the actual Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. himself. I hear his voice talking about his work and he is laughing so hard he can hardly talk. He said he just wanted to free his mind of clutter when he wrote this book. That statement explains everything.

The Truth?

The employee club at work had another contest. This committee (that I am not on) rolls out another morale boosting effort about every month or two. Some ideas are raffles to raise money for the employee club. They will raffle off tickets to the state fair for example. I do not buy raffle tickets. Gambling is one sin I avoid, mostly because I hate to lose money. This contest was more fun than a raffle.  This contest was about honesty. Each employee was invited to write three things about themselves. Two of the three statements were self-truths and one of the three statements was supposed to be a lie/factoid/fakenews/untruth. When I got my paper inviting me to write three things about myself I had just gotten back from a bus tour of the prairie and I was in a prairie state of mind.  I spent 30 seconds on my entry. Do you want to know what I wrote? I will tell you. 
1. My new nickname is Orange Sioux
2. My new nickname is So Sue Me
3. My new nickname is Sioux Quartzite because it implies that I rock
Today the head of the employee club asked me which one was a lie.  This committee chair is one of the best pranksters I have ever met in my life. He is smooth with his pranks. He never confesses. He remains silent if someone doesn't get the prank. He has pulled some epic pranks over the past 25 years. He is so expert at pulling pranks that I get nervous every time I do the annual inservice on maltreatment of vulnerable adults because I am afraid he's going to pull another one and there I will be, standing in front of the group, speechless and helpless like a deer in the headlights and not knowing if I should laugh or cry.
"Which one is a lie?" he asks me.
"I am not going to tell you," I answer honestly.
"I am the head of the committee. I can't win this contest."
"Oh, okay," I say warily, "I am sorry. I should have seen I was supposed to check which one was a lie. I spent 30 seconds on it because I was in a mood."
I look over the list that I wrote and turned in. All of them are lies. Geez Louise.
I tell him a lie, "Number 2 is a lie."
When I go into the break room at work an hour later all the entries are posted on a white board. I allow myself to read only one of the 15 or so entries in this true or false contest. I can't read them all at once because they are so funny it would be like eating an entire box of bon bons. I read one. I leave snickering quietly so as not to disturb the people who are reading the newspaper and catching a respite from their challenging work.
Do you want to hear some examples?
1. I do not believe in reincarnation. In my previous life as a hamster I did not believe in reincarnation. (Wow. Mind blowing entry from a 60+ year old man)
2. I have been to 3 Lady Gaga concerts. (This is from the committee chair. I know he has been to at least one because he has an unusual child and he is a great father. But he is tricky so this could be the lie because he has been to 4 concerts; not 3)
3. I once had my tongue pierced (and she really doesn't come across as a tongue piercer but tongue piercers are hard to spot these days. Next time I see her I will ask her to stick it out at me so I can examine her tongue for scars)
4. I once went to culinary school and traveled to France on a school trip. (this one I thought was true. This guy's father works there too. I casually ask the father at lunch where he is sitting with his son if the son ever traveled to Paris. The father says yes without hesitation. The son is irate at his father and even more upset with me. The son accuses me of cheating. I admit I did cheat. Sonofagun that was funny.