Technological advance

       From the perspective of my advanced age I'm aware of so many persons in my past who I should have thanked but didn't.  Our farm, lying along  US Highway 81, was about equal distance between the towns of Sinai and Arlington. Following the pattern established by our grandparents Sinai was 'our town.' Arlington was larger and supported both a medical doctor and a dentist to whom we went.

      Dr. Jensen, DDS, could be severe. But he was responsible for doing me a huge favor, for which I never thanked him. My teeth grew in a with a severe overbite, in elementary school I was belittled with the slur of 'gopher teeth.'  Jensen convinced my parents to take me to the first orthodontist  practicing in S.D., Dr Mehrens, in Sioux Falls. Braces were a major financial commitment and the cost was exacerbated by the need to travel to Sioux Falls, 60 miles away, every three weeks for a check-up. A neighbor boy also had braces so our families took turns driving. Sorry to say I never thanked my parents, either.

    All this came to mind when at the dentist's office today. In two hours the dentist did a complete crown and also cleaned my teeth. While the crown was setting my teeth were cleaned and I came home with no need to return for six months. What will they think of next! 

Takk for alt

Al

PS In a book I'm read a teen age girl, stuck for a long buggy ride with a talkative adult felt like "there was a hole in her through which she all leaked out." This introvert has felt like that. 😁

                           There are advantages to hearing aids.

One...good one!

      In yesterday's post I requested thoughts/reactions Re: donate vs gift. There was only on response but that was a good one. NN wrote "...maybe a donation feels like duty or obligation and a gift is a present/ a surprise/ to give joy because you want to share."   NN put into words what I feel is the difference between 'give' and 'donate'. 

    In the same way I feel there is huge difference between 'gift' and 'contribution.' It goes to the intrinsic motivation that lies behind the action.  Yes, perhaps 'gift' and 'contribution' are not perfectly synonymous. Motivation matters and 'gift' strikes at motivation.

Takk for alt,

Al

There are voices which would have us believe that all regulation is bad.

Nit-picking?

           Perhaps I'm just a fuss-budget. Non-profits soliciting contributions or thanking for them almost always make reference to "donate" or "donation". Why do I find this less than optimum? For some reason I much prefer "give" or "gift" to "donate" or "donation."  

        This reaction on my part puzzles me. What difference does it make? I just know that if feels very different to me to consider giving rather than donating. Perhaps I'll ask a friend who is much better versed in linguistics than I. Comments from readers on this issue are more than welcome. What do you think?

Takk for alt,

Al

   Tokyo viewed from the Tokyo tower. The dark area in the distance is grounds of the Imperial Palace.

Delightful

 

     It's been a dleightful night and day with the granddaughters. Zero drama all happ vibes!

Takk for alt,

Al

                    You may know why this tickled me!

                                            I'm with Ruthie!

Exclusive!

     In the 13 months since I moved into the OFH there have been only two guests who have stayed overnight in my apartment. Both of those guests stayed the same night. Tonight they return for an encore. Perhaps if their ages were revealed you might guess their identities. The oldest is 13, to be 14, in April and the other is 11.How fortunate am I? 😀

Takk for alt,

Al

                                Looking up at the Tokyo Tower.

Perspective

     Such opposite reactions from different daughters! When I went to retrieve my mail today in the OFH a woman detached herself from a conversation with two others and introduced herself to me as Judy. She’d recently become aware of which apartment I occupy. Originally she planned to live in it and had special ordered a ceiling fan for the living room. When her daughter came to visit she said “Mom, you don’t want to live here next to 7^th street, it will be too noisy.” Judy then opted for another apartment on the other side of the building.

     When Lisa, Lars and I first came to visit the OFH (October 2021) there were two apartments left for rent. There was a smaller one, the view from which would face the new building being built across the street. The second one available was the one Judy had declined. When we entered this one Lisa took one look around and said “Dad, you should take this.” She was correct, I did, and I’m glad!

   Street noise? Yes, I hear traffic on 7^th street. Even with my hearing aids in the noise doesn’t bother me. There was another renter, David, who briefly occupied this unit before I. He left for a different place because this was “too noisy”. Their noise aversion was my gain.

Takk for alt,

Al

Weather forecast

     For days the weather forecasters have been predicting a significant winter storm. The announcements said there would be a modest snowfall, followed by a lull, and then a possible record breaking storm. The modest snowfall arrived last night and now, 3:00pm Thursday, it is snowing again. L said when she lived in Baltimore a prediction of snow would prompt a run on grocery stores that would leave shelves empty. The Minneapolis paper today had an entire article, complete with pictures and evaluations, of different models of snow shovels. Being forewarned should be helpful.

    My grandmother’s delay may have saved my grandfather’s life. In 1855 Grandpa, Lars Negstad, with his wife, Grandma, Sigrid (Graven) Negstad, and their one year-old boy, Albert, my father, traveled to Brookings County, Dakota Territory. They traveled by wagon pulled by oxen trailing a milk cow. In their new home they lived in a small shack and took over an unfinished homestead they’d purchased. Lacking a well, Grandpa would herd his cattle to a large slough north west of the shack for water. It was his custom to do this after the noon meal, which they called dinner.

   On January 11, 1888 dinner was delayed. Perhaps Grandma was spinning wool. She made all of Dad’s clothes until he was confirmed. It was that delay that may have saved Grandpa’s life. Before the meal was finished the “Children's Blizzard, (so called because so many school children died) (see article below) struck. Had Grandpa been out with his cattle he may not have survived.

    That blizzard gave impetus to improving weather forecasting. The forecasting on which we rely today.

Takk for alt,

Al

On this date, January 11, 1888, an unseasonably warm current of air moved out of the Caribbean and surged north into the American Great Plains. It was the first in a series of events – a perfect storm that would create a blizzard that would change the face of American history forever.

Early the following morning, a dark cloud appeared on the horizon. The air grew still for a long, eerie moment and then the sky began to roar and a wall of ice dust blasted the prairie. Every house, barn, fence row, wagon and living thing was instantly covered with shattered crystals, blinding, suffocating, smothering and burying anything exposed to the wind. The cold front raced across the open landscape, freezing everything in its path.

It swept across Montana first, and then buried North Dakota around the time that farmers were doing their early morning chores. South Dakota was frozen as children were finishing their morning recess at school and in Nebraska, school clocks were nearing the time for dismissal. In three minutes, temperatures in every region dropped more than 18 degrees. As night fell, the temperature kept dropping steadily, hour after hour, deluged by the cold from the northwest. The cold front brought snow, ice and subzero temperatures – and it also brought death.

By the morning of Friday, January 13, hundreds of people lay dead on the Dakota and Nebraska prairie, many of them children who had fled – or been sent home from – country schools at the same time the wind shifted and the sky was exploding.

It was a disaster created by bad luck and bad timing. The January blizzard – which has become known as the “Children’s Blizzard” or the “Schoolhouse Blizzard” – affected an entire region and its population. There was not a family among the farmers, settlers and town-dwellers on the prairie who was not personally affected by death caused by the storm, or who at least knew another family that was. It was a terrifying event and after it passed, the region was never the same again.

Not so smart.

     By now I should know better than to be smug. When L was at my place recently she helped me load the library app on my computer. She thought I was buying too many books at Half Price Books. With the app I went online, ordered a bunch of books, all on wait lists. The first one came in last week and I retrieved it from the local library. Very satisfied with myself.

    Yesterday, the library notified me that another book I’d reserved was in. Good, with the impending snow, I tripped off (via car) to pick it up. Perfect, I’ll have it to read as the snow descends. At the library I checked the code and pulled it from the shelf for checkout and my face fell. There was one letter difference in the title and a totally different author from what I intended to order. Uffda!

Intending to order Woman of Light, Kali Fajardo-Anstine, in fact I ordered, and received Women of Light, Walter Russell Bowie. Not even close! Well, then...I could be more careful.😞

Takk for alt,

Al

Memory?

    Perhaps I shouldn’t have written in yesterday’s blog that my memory is Okay. Acting on a recommendation I purchased Lief Enger’s 2001, book, Peace Like A River, at Half Price Books. Leif is a Minnesota author who was raised in Osakis and worked for MPR for twenty years. Reading it I was immediately engaged because it begins with a goose hunt in North Dakota. During my Mohall years I did much goose hunting. It was a national bestseller not long after its publication.

   What does reading it have to do with memory. While Joanne and I were living in Golden Valley, MN, we organized a neighborhood book club. Convening the club fell to me. The club choose a meeting date one year that fell shortly after my annual trip to Thailand. Being the convener I met with the group even though I’d only read part of the book. As I was reading Peace there was a scene about which I thought “I know this!” Upon reflection I remembered it was Peace that the book club read in my absence. Ah yes, memory... Now, having forgotten the ending, I read to the end.

Recommend it? Maybe, it’s a good story. My copy will go to the OFH Little Free Library on the front lawn. The librarians regularly ask for gift books.

Takk for alt,

Al

    Five persons are in conversation about their childhoods. It soon became clear that three of the five, of which I was one, had attended country school for eight years. This would not be hard to replicate in Sinai but in the ultra sophisticated OFH, perhaps a bit more surprising. It would be interesting to know how many of the OFH inmates have a country school background.

    Often I’ve remarked about my surprise at how fast I became old. Reflecting on the contrast between my life in the 1940s and now, makes me feel much older than my chronological age. Having not attended kindergarten, I’ve been known to remark that “it wasn’t invented yer.” Of course that’s not true, my peers who grew up in cities did attend. It took longer for kindergarten to reach rural areas. In fact my children only had six weeks of kindergarten in the early 70s. This was in a small town in ND, Mohall, named after the town’s founder Martin O. Hall, M.O.Hall, thus Mohall.

    At lunch today with much younger friends I remarked that for persons like me, who live without adult supervision, there are three abilities that are crucial. These three: eyesight, memory and mobility. However, residence in the OFH means that I’d be OK should any of these fail. Life in The Little House would be another matter.

Takk for alt,

Al

                 I'm modeling the suit which was tailor made while I was on Okinawa.

Life

    In those days when Joanne was in hospice care,she shared with some friends her worry about my future socialization. We were quite far apart on the extrovert-introvert scale. When she’d take instruments to determine extroversion and introversion she wouldn’t have a single item under introversion. While definitely an introvert, I’d have a few checks under extroversion. This difference led her to be concerned about my future,as she feared I’d become a social isolate.

    She needn’t have worried. The OFH is a good environment for both extroverts and introverts. When I want to mingle it’s easy and when I want to be alone all I need to do is go to my apartment. The apartment if very comfortable and perfect for a single person. The cleaning lady, who comes twice a month, complements me on how well I keep it. Dusting is just not my thing! I dusted once but it was fruitless because it all came back.

     The telephone is the other connection to people. Perhaps I do more calling than people call me but it is an important instrument to enable me to meet my people needs. No, I am not a social isolate, just and introvert who has found a good balance.

Takk for alt,

Al

        Students at Noble Academy: Yes, I miss volunteering there.

Meditation on footwear

    Sometimes things just drift out of use in ways that do not make persons conscious of their disappearance. This came to mind yesterday when I met a man leaving a store wearing five buckle overshoes. How long since you saw buckle overshoes? In my childhood days there were two, four, five and even an occasional six buckle overshoes. You remember “overshoes”? Some years ago I had ones with zippers, that slipped over my dress shoes. Have you recently thought about overshoes? Perhaps my rural readers may have seen buckle overshoes more recently than we city folk.

    A few years ago I had ankle surgery, called the Watson Procedure, which required a few weeks in a walking boot. This was in the spring when it was time to do a bit of field work. Fleet Farm sold me a pair of five buckle overshoes, size 16, one of which I slipped over my walking boot. Thus protected field work proceeded. Once the walking boot was no longer needed the size sixteen, five buckle overshoes went to Goodwill. Perhaps some giant of a man got some use from them. That was my last experience with buckle overshoes.

   A consultation with my rural readers is due to see if buckle overshoes are still common in the country. City folk seem to have gone to boots for winter walking. The fact that Fleet Farm was stilling stocking them is perhaps a clue.

Takk for alt,

Al

This school picture from 1948 shows the late Curtis Holm, on the viewers far left, wearing five buckle overshoes. He, being the coolest boy in school, was well shod. The late Melvin Risty is proudly showing his sled. His farm was sold after his death for over 7 million dollars. Five of these students are alive today. The teacher's car is parked beside the school. 

The presence of absence again.

    Grief triggers, those things, sounds, smells, events, that ignite the presence of absence and throw one back into a spasm of grief are a reality of life in the land of grief. There are widows at church, whose husbands died more recently than Joanne. When I’ve shared my experience, that with time there are fewer triggers and often they are less powerful, it has brought them comfort.

   Tonight, with S’s 11^th birthday, it qas one of those moments. Joanne loved birthdays, something I had to learn in my life with her. Realizing the loss of Grandma to her granddaughters and all Joanne misses in their growing makes me very sad. Yes, that is a persistent trigger, and always brings the presence of absence to the fore.

Takk for alt,

Al

             Joanne and Sella, eleven years ago.

    The weather app on my phone records that we received 1.3” of rain yesterday. Welcome to Seattle. Varying by the temperature when it fell that would have been a significant snowfall. Our 50+ inches of snow has shrunk with both warmer temperatures and the rainfall. Navigating icy patches on sidewalks can be tricky. Perhaps denizens of the OFH should just stay inside and many do. Personally I’m not quite ready for that. I retain a farmer’s interest in weather. What does a weatherman do in Hawaii?

Takk for alt,

Al

                       Anyone recognize this?

Well then...

    In an email response to a line is yesterday's post a reader asked "Why you do think football is morally bankrupt."  Consideration was given to posting my email response to that question, but for now have chosen not to do so. If other readers are interested I could forward my statement or, perhaps even post it here.

    Having finished Marilyn Robinson's Lila, I'd say it's top tier. Likely many of you read it long ago so I'll not elaborate more.

Takk for alt,

Al

       Trygve, the wonder dog, loves the view through the sliding glass door of the OFH.

TV

    The first TV appeared at out house on the farm in 1954. By then I was half finished with high school. Somehow TV never caught on with me. The Little House only has rabbit ears antenna which gets only a couple of public stations. It hasn’t been turned one since the last presidential campaign debate. Cable TV comes with the rental package at the OFH.

   TV here (OFH) is used mostly for watching basketball. Because football is morally bankrupt it’s not used for that. Basketball is watched on mute because the announcers are more annoying than helpful. They imagine that their role is judging not announcing. When they are occasionally un-muted they are never elucidating about that which I wonder.

    The OFH is very quiet, with the exception of a peripatetic woman upstairs who has  lead feet. The drumming on my ceiling makes Kaia think someone is knocking on my door. Walking down the OFH hall in the evening TVs can be heard as I pass resident’s doors. Perhaps that would also be true of my apartment if the sound were enabled on my TV. Except……….

    Except that my VA hearing aids came with a device, when connected to the TV, allows the sound to be directed to my aids. The only down side is that with this device connected the mute button on the remote is disabled. Of course the aids can be turned off.

   Last night, with the Super Bowl sucking most of the air from TV, I connected the TV to aids device. Public TV provided a good antidote to football. Perhaps I’ll see if I can learn to watch TV. This would only last until I return to The Little House.

Takk for alt,

Al

Stephanie Herseth-Sandlin, Agustana University President with Paul Rasmussen, Augie rep., Roy & Dorothy Satre and the current occupant, at the OFH.

Furthermore....

 “A good one to one relationship means I am open with you about whatever I think ,feel, and want to do or have done, and I do not worry about your reaction to that openness.  I do not let concern about your reaction keep me  from doing  something, nor do I think . “ You must accept me before  I can do this.”  Equally,  I can hear your openness about these things and do not have the need to condemn or judge you or agree with you . Agreement is not the goal.”  Ronald Richardson  Polarization  and the Healthier Church

   This quotation was the core of yesterday’s blog. This is a valuable insight into open communications in relationship. However, it is not an excuse for saying everything that might be on one’s mind. It cautions against with holding honesty to protect one’s self. It does not legitimize brutality in speech that demeans or threatens another. It simply says that honest communication risks the vulnerability of the speaker. It also reminds that in relationship non-judgmental listening to the other is as important as declaring one’s own thinking, thought and feelings.

Takk for alt,

Al

                       Pictured with the Thai students on my last trip to Thailand, 2020.

Think on this!

    A friend, who was attending an advanced church mediation event last week shared this quote from the event.

“A good one to one relationship means I am open with you about whatever I think ,feel, and want to do or have done, and I do not worry about your reaction to that openness.  I do not let concern about your reaction keep me  from doing  something, nor do I think . “ You must accept me before  I can do this.”  Equally,  I can hear your openness about these things and do not have the need to condemn or judge you or agree with you . Agreement is not the goal.”  Ronald Richardson  Polarization  and the Healthier ChurchThat 

    That first sentence really jumped out at me. “A good one to one relationship means I am open with you about whatever I think ,feel, and want to do or have done, and I do not worry about your reaction to that openness.” Wow! How many times have I, and do I, hold back for fear of another person’s reaction? Why do I worry so much about another person’s reaction? How freeing it would be to not be constrained by fear of an other's reaction.

   This is one of those insights that will take some rumination. Am I the only one who does this self-censoring? Of course not. Here’s hoping for some response to this post.

Takk for alt,

Al

My romance with Joanne began on a trip to Holden Village in 1963 with this young adult group from First Lutheran, Sioux Falls.

Joanne's legacy, redux

    Jim Schade told me. The place and time of this conversation escapes me but it was a few years ago. Jim had worked for Lutheran Planned Giving of South Dakota, now Lutheran Planned Generosity. He said “Lutheran Planned Giving has raised twenty-three million dollars for Lutheran Institutions in South Dakota. As you know, Joanne was the founder of that organization.”

    She convened a meeting of Lutheran leaders when she was president of LSSSD. Out of that gathering came Lutheran Planned Giving, aka, Generosity. Included in the initial group were representatives of the Synod, Augustana College, now University, Lutheran Outdoors and others. Lutheran Planned Generosity is housed at Augustana University. Curious about how much has been given now, I went to their website but the amount is not disclosed.

Joanne certainly did good work. Rest in peace good and faithful servant.

Takk for alt,

Al

            Joanne's last meal at the table, Easter Sunday and her birthday, April 1, 2018.

Joanne's legacy

    Today Augustana University President, Stephanie Herseth-Sandlin, accompanied by local Augie representative, Paul Rasmuson, stopped by the OFH for breakfast. When Joanne was president of Lutheran Social Services, SD., Herseth-Sandlin was South Dakota’s Representative in Congress. They became friends, working together on several issues. One of the vice presidents at Augie is Pam Hohman, who was Sioux Falls Superintendent of schools while Joanne was at LSSSD.

     LSSSD resettled several of the Lost Boys of Sudan. (See the articles below.) Not surprisingly this was a controversial issue in Sioux Falls. Joanne found the support of Hohman as Superintendent of Schools very helpful. Hohman and Joanne became good friends.

    Breakfasting with Herseth-Sandlin I requested that she greet Hohman from me, after relaying how Joanne and Hohman had worked together to accommodate the Lost Boys. Herseth-Sandlin reported that some of the Boys settled permanently in Sioux Falls, have families and are well integrated into the community. In fact one of Boys’ son is on Augie’s basketball team.

    The good Joanne did continues on.👍

“The Lost Boys of Sudan refers to a group of over 20,000 boys of the Nuer and Dinka ethnic groups who were displaced or orphaned during the Second Sudanese Civil War. Two million were killed and others were severely affected by the conflict”. Wikipedia

“Motivated by the loss of their parents and their need to find food and safety from the conflict, an estimated 20,000 boys from rural southern Sudan fled to bordering Ethiopia and Kenya.[11] Much of the travel took place by foot in large groups with the boys traveling in single file lines.[12] The journey from South Sudan to the nearest refugee camp could be up to thousands of miles. Travel ranged from a span of weeks to two or more years. Often, the children traveled with no possessions besides the clothes on their backs.[13] The Boys often depended on the charity of villages they passed for food, necessities, and treatment of the sick. However, most of their travel was in isolated regions with very little infrastructure. Groups of Boys were often organized and led by the oldest boy in the group, who could be a young adult or sometimes as young as ten or twelve years old.” Internet

Takk for alt,

Al

Sikorsky H-34, helicoper we'd ride from the aircraft carrier to land. It beat nets and landing crafts as a form of transportation. It 2 pilots, crew chief and could carry 18 Marines.

Streets

    Temps in the 40s makes the streets sloppy. West 7^th Street, which is also MN State Highway 5, runs past the OFH. It’s in tough shape. Deep potholes regularly appear. Apparently it’s slated for a complete upgrade which will make getting to the OFH interesting. Some of the potholes appear to be over a foot deep. At the bottom of these holes there are bricks. The asphalt was laid over the bricks which would explain why, even apart from the pot holes, the street is very rough.

   Before the OFH was built there was a corner with five streets entering. Montreal and West 7^th ran through and Lexington Parkway entered. When the Wedum Foundation bought the property to build the OFH, Lexington Parkway was rerouted, through the OFH property. Now it joins West 7^th, a block east of Montreal. Road construction lies in the future, but it is very needed.

Takk for alt,

Al

PS Michelene asked what happened when I went in the water after the landing craft hit a sand bar.(see last nights post.) My pack was tight enough to shed the water for the brief plunge in the water. My clothes, though salty, dried in the south Califonia sun. As soon as I could I totally dismantled my rifle, cleaned it and oiled it so it wouldn't rust. 

In a tent in Japan, sitting on my air matress and sleeping bag writing home, which I did every week. My mother saved the letters and I have them. My rifle hangs behind me, as does my mess kit, the seabag was in lieu of a suitcase.

A good book

      There’s a Half Price Bookstore near the OFH. Friday I entered, headed for the Patchett shelf to have a look see. Several copies of her books were there but all had been previously read. It’s a bit daunting to be confronted with so many books but wanting to bring home something engaging.

    Eventually, at the Marilyn Robinson shelf. a copy of Lila said “take me home.” Having read Gilead and several of her other books why not Lila? Could it be that it waited until there was leisure to enjoy this gem? Take for example this snippet: Lila thinks “People living the way she does could go crazy. She began to wonder if that had already happened to her. She thought, If I’m crazy, I may well do what I feel like doing. No point being crazy if you have to worry all the time about what people are thinking anyway.” P. 27

  Read on!

Takk for alt,

Al

Having come down the nets,loaded up and headed for shore. Once I was at the front of the landing craft which would run up on the beach, drop the front ramp and the Marines would run ashore. The craft hit something solid, the ramp dropped and I ran into water over my head, rifle pack and all. The craft was stuck on a sand bar not the beach. Soaked in salt water was the beginng of a two week field exercise.

Another book

   A few days ago needing something to read I ventured down to the library of the OFH. On a shelf in the fiction section I found This Tender Land, William Kent Krueger, copyright 2019. He certainly tells a good story. It’s the odyssey of four escapees from a Minnesota Indian boarding school in 1932. The book jacket compares it to “Where the Crawdads Sing.” While it strains credulity at times it’s yet very good reading.

   Took a little detour from reading to help with a bit of plumbing. For once my plumbing effort turned out well. Usually it ends “it still leaks!”

Takk for alt,

Al

               Man (men) overboard! Those packs were heavy!

Modern times...

 The span from a one room country school house to today sometimes boggles my mind. Today’s plan was to go to lunch with a 13 and a 10 year old. It was a bit surprising that they hadn’t settled on a restaurant before I joined them but they had had a mild disagreement. 13 asked me where I’d suggest. “Fat Lorenzo’s” was my suggestion. 10 said, “I don’t eat pizza” which is what we’d usually ordered there. Now ‘dairy free’ pizza wasn’t an option for 10. 13 responded by retrieving a smart phone. In a moment 13 had the menu of Fat’s and suggested to 10, “how about a meatball sandwich?” 10 agreed and so it was off to Fat’s for a delightful lunch.

   When I was 13 I didn’t have a smart phone. The comic book character, Dick Tracy, had a wrist phone but no one else did. Ah yes, a far journey from the one room school and life in the 40s!

Takk for alt,

Al

(George) "Washington served two terms and then stepped down in 1797, despite many calls for him to continue in office. He believed that it was crucial to set the precedent for a peaceful transition, and he longed for a quiet retirement at Mount Vernon, his Virginia plantation. He composed his 32-page farewell address with the help of Treasury Secretary Alexander Hamilton. In his speech, he urged the nation to think of itself as a unified body. He said that partisanship “serves always to distract the public councils and enfeeble the public administration. It agitates the community with ill-founded jealousies and false alarms, kindles the animosity of one part against another, foments occasionally riot and insurrection. It opens the door to foreign influence and corruption, which find a facilitated access to the government itself through the channels of party passion.”  Writer's Almanac    Al says "Well said George."

      College graduation day with my favorite faculty member.

Life events

    The Berlin crisis of 1961 activated my brother’s National Guard unit. Ironically he’d recently transferred from the Brookings, SD, unit to one in Clear Lake, SD. The transfer was to change to a different day for the weekly training. The Brookings unit wasn’t activated while the Clear Lake unit was sent to Colorado for several months. At least it made him eligible for VA benefits.

   When the Cuban Missile Crisis erupted in the autumn of 1962, it made me nervous for a personal reason. My enlistment in the Marines was for six years, three of which were on active duty. While I was discharged from active duty in June 1962, my military commitment on inactive duty stretched until 1965.

   The Cuban Crisis occurred in my first semester back in college. Based on my brother’s experience of activation I thought “Here I go again.” Fortunately that crisis ended so quickly that troupes were not mobilized and I finished my military obligation with no further duty.

   Besides the value of a college degree, Joanne and I also met on the campus. Two great gifts, the greater of which was Joanne. 😄

Takk for alt,

Al

My family gathered on my college graduation day, June 20, 1962. Joanne and I were married six days later, Front row: Aunt Inga, my Mother, Mary Richard's wife, Jonetta David's wife, Joanne. Back row my Dad, Richard and David. I took the picture.

Well then...

    At first if offended me. When Tom & Becky were arranging to leave their beautiful south Minneapolis home to move to an old folk’s home in Wayzata they quoted a resident of that home “In my condo building I had a friend or two, here I have many.” It felt that they were casting aspirations on my living arrangement, ensconced as I was in my downtown condo.

    It turns out that they were correct. There is one couple with whom I’m friends in the old condo building. Here I have multiple friends and this evening I will socialize with two different groups. Included in one of those groups is Becky’s cousin. 😀  What’s not to like about the OFH?

Takk for alt,

Al

      Sunrise viewed from the OFC this morning.

    Still thinking about the article re: George Friedman referenced is yesterday’s blog. Friedman claims 80 year institutional cycles in American history. The first began with the Revolution, the second the Civil War and the third World War II, which is now just coming to the end. “And what’s today’s aging industry? Friedman delivered another surprise. It’s technology, he said, from smartphones to PCs to the internet to social media. ‘At a certain point, a technology reaches the point of exhaustion, where it has achieved extraordinary things and now has become a commodity. That’s the situation that we are in here’ he said.”

   Perhaps he’s correct. Witness the thousands of layoffs in the tech industry. His book is The Storm Before the Calm.

Takk for alt,

Al

Just after posting this, I opened the Washington Post to this headline: Lackluster Apple, Amazon and Alphabet earnings reports show Big Tech’s golden age is fading

 Sitting on my rack, Navy parlance for a bed, aboard ship. 1961

                 Joanne and Al in conversation.😁

Aha!

     Perhaps I could be considered a ‘news junkie.’ Daily reading includes the Minneapolis Star-tribune, the Washington Post and the Huffington Post. These are all online. That brings up a ‘too late smart’ episode. The Little House is about 20 miles from Madison, SD, a town of about 5,000 population. A couple of years ago I searched many locations in Madison for a print copy of the Minneapolis paper to no avail. DUH..eventually it dawned on me to subscribe online. In addition to these online subscriptions I also get the Economist, print edition.

    Reading today’s Minneapolis paper gave me one of those “aha” moments. Evan Ramstad is a new, regular columnist in the business section. Ramstad writes “George Friedman, a Texas based business consultant….His 2009 book “The Next 100 Years” has turned out to be remarkably prescient—and has stayed in print as a result.

     In his most recent book ‘The Storm Before the Calm’ Friedman writes about rage. “One thing he predicted in the more recent book has already become true: Rage has surged in the country the last few years. He sees that as ‘a useful American tool’ and sign of a broader renewal. ‘We constantly reinvent ourselves, and that reinvention enrages people,’ Friedman said.”

     That seems like an ‘aha’ insight helping to explain the angst of our time. He also predicts that before long countries with be competing for immigrants to supplement falling birth rates. Meanwhile thousands languish at our borders seeking entrance to the U.S.

Takk for alt,

Al

         Helicopter parked on the deck of our ship, the USS Princton.