AUTUMN'S SAD STORY

                                               

It starts with just a few dead leaves, blowing lazily around in the middle of your otherwise green yard. The tree must be sick you reason, its still the middle of summer. You look up at the host tree and see the yellowing top and then you notice a few others and you know its not any disease but a summer that is fast running its course. The geese on the lake are all the same size now and that lovely auburn color the deer once had on, is fading into winters tan. That old buck that was in your yard last night eating acorns, now has shiny antlers and that ugly velvet moss that looked so crummy on his regal head has finally gone away.

Out in the countryside combines labor in the farm fields surrounded by clouds of dust and big round bales of hay lay scattered like tiny huts of grass on the Serengeti. It’s been three days now without a humming bird at your feeder and the apples on the trees by the garden are getting red. It seems like just yesterday they were blossoms, drooping like snowflakes in the soft spring breezes. You sit on the deck in that old porch swing and look out over the still lake in the autumn sun and you wish you could freeze this moment in time, before the last of your so-called innocence fades away. You remember the words of an old song that said, “Summers going fast, Nights getting colder. Children growing up and old friends growing older.”  But like sands through the hourglass the minutes tick softly away and there is little you can do to alter its course.

Soon the roads will once again be sprinkled with motor homes and trailers, captained by old white haired men with stern looking wives, both putting their faces towards the fading sun. Heading south like the birds of the air, to their winter grounds. Sadly like the birds of the air, not all will return. The lake grows quiet once more except for the sound of the guns during hunting season. The small town you live in goes into its survival mode and cafes that had full house’s and waiting lines in summer from tourists now have a few tired old men around three tables warming their hands around cups of coffee and trying to make the best of it.

 But for today, the old man sits quietly on the porch swing with his old sweat stained hat now off his head and in his lap, held tightly by his wrinkled sun burnt fingers and his thoughts turn to her who left him so suddenly. Two things have not changed, his love for her and his faith in his creator. Winters were more bearable then when they were together and even though most others went away for winter you always had each other. Then as if on cue another old song filters slowly through his mind.  “Since you went away the days grow long and soon I’ll hear old winters song. But I’ll miss you most of all my darling when autumn leaves began to fall.”

STATE FAIR

                                                          

I went to the State Fair last week, and I had a great day. The State Fair means many things to many people. It celebrates the end of another summer, and the opportunity to see the many fruits and vegetables, animals and poultry, which keep our larders full of food—something that gets lost in our world of fast food and supermarkets. I came from a rural community and the horses and cows, sheep and goats always bring me back to my roots. But more than that, it’s a time to just get together and socialize with other people, and to listen to their stories.  It’s a chance for those of us from “Up North” to see the other side of life.

I went to a stand to buy some popcorn and I was wearing a cap that says “Up North Minnesota. Crosslake.” The young man who waited on me, asked me, “Do you live up there?” and I said, “I do.” He said, “You must be very happy. I have visited there and I simply loved it.” On the bus, on the way home, I looked at the apartment buildings that line the freeways and the high rises where so many people live out their lives in front of television sets and computers. A place where most forms of entertainment cost money. Where you can hardly see the stars at night in the din of the city lights, and the songs of the birds and the chatter of the small animals are lost to the noise of cars and trucks. A place were the air is heavy with exhaust, and factory pollution, and summer’s sometimes-oppressive heat is absorbed by the asphalt jungle, and then fed back to you slowly, overnight. Yes—I do feel blessed to live up north.

I know if people from some of the urban areas read this, they would say, “it’s not that bad down here and we have amenities, too. One’s that you don’t have up north. We have the Twins and the Vikings and the Mall of America, and we don’t have to drive one hundred and fifty miles to see them.” My daughter and her family lived in Savage, and one day, her husband and I rode the light rail train to a Twins game. We got on at the second stop and the train was already full. At each stop after that, we grudgingly gave up what little space that was left as more people packed in until, if they opened the doors again, someone was going to pop out. My face was in the armpit of a tall man, with bad hygiene, hanging onto an overhead strap. All I could smell and hear was backs, boobs, sweat and crying kids. The trip took over an hour and the return trip home was the same song, second verse. I wouldn’t do that again, even if I were promised a seat in the Twins dugout next to Mauer. I could have come from Crosslake in almost the same amount of time. I have sat in traffic jams, down there, long enough to write this column. The faces of the people, in the cars around you, are expressionless. They can’t wait for Friday.

I lived down there for forty years because there was work for me there. I left a small town to seek my fortune and spent those forty years wishing I was back where I came from. As the naked man explained when caught by the husband, in his wife’s closet, and asked what he was doing there. “Everybody has to be somewhere.” I guess that is true of life itself. I no longer wonder why people live there because it’s for the same reasons I did. I know in their hearts they have the same dream I had. I know because I see them up here all summer long, and yes—they’re smiling.

IIT'S A WHOLE NEW BALL GAME IN THE KITCHEN

                        

The cuisine in our house has changed significantly since my wife passed away. I had done most of the cooking in our house for the last ten years but she had limits to what she would and would not eat. But now the gloves are off and my palate is being tickled once more. My stomach does revolt from time to time but there’s a pill for that and I bought three bottles full. I’m kind of like the drunk who knows tomorrow morning is not going to be good--- but just for tonight ----well who cares.

We used to have chili in our house, which I called bean soup and she called chili. There is no good way to spice up chili after the fact. It’s just not the same to put that old chili powder on it once its cooked. It must be cooked right to start with. If an apple a day keeps the doctor away just think what a couple of jalapeño peppers can do. Cut up and mixed in the chili, they are an almost magical ingredient. If your not sweating when you eat it--- its not done right. Davy Crockett owes them Mexicans an apology for chasing them away.

Corned beef sandwiches’ and pastrami sandwiches should be on any sub shops menu. I’ll share my recipe with you, just this once. Three slices of pastrami and three slices of corn beef on seven-grain bread. Yellow mustard and one spoonful of horseradish spread around on top of the meat. Three slices of Colby cheese and two slices of tomatoes and one thin slice of onion. Go easy on the onion because they can give you a bellyache. Bon appétit my friends.

I love hot-dishes and I think if some one opened an all you can eat hot dish, buffet café, they would have every silver head east of the Rockies eating there. I used to get a free lunch at work once in awhile at the community center when the Seniors had their monthly potluck dinner. A whole table full of hot-dishes. Like a kid in a candy store I was. Once you had your plate full you could throw that slice of hot apple pie on top of it and your saliva glands would be leaking like a tin roof on a shed, in the Bahamas, during hurricane season. Yum Yum.

My grandkids and even their parents to some extent have drifted far away from the world of real food. They subsist on artificial food wrapped in doughy bread or things that look like pizza crust and really would make better mud flaps than food wrap. Their kitchens at home are just used in emergencies, to like, cook a wiener, or warm up a pizza--- Jeez Louise, I’m even starting to talk like them. Their refrigerators have no food in them just bottles of water and the dog’s medicine and packets of left over condiments from places they frequent with drive through dining rooms. If you think driving and talking on a cell phone is risky, try eating a juicy whooper with your good clothes on, balancing a pack of fry’s on one knee, onion rings on the other knee, and a 32oz coke between your legs while trying to keep the dog in the back seat. I figure I’m at least three quarters home from beginning to the end, so I’m not going to get my underwear in a knot over this. But it’s food for thought. No pun intended.

GREAT EXSPECTATIONS

                                              

If there is one thing that is present in all of us it is the desire to have life as easy as we can and to enjoy life, and not have that many hardships or worries. Over the last fifty years we have made great strides in this country when it comes to employers giving their employees benefits beyond a paycheck. Paid health insurance, sick days, vacations, are a few that come to mind and they are needed. But people being what they are, the demand for more and better benefits keeps coming up. Paid leaves for childcare and extended sick leave are a couple up for discussion.  On- going benefits for retirees are another one. These are things that were not on the table years ago.

Each benefit your employer has to finance has to be paid for somewhere, somehow. Bottom line is they have to make a profit at the end of the year, or there is no sense being in business. At the same time they need to be competitive with others in the same business, or they will be simply priced out of business. Either way the employee will suffer along with them if they go down. It can become a parasitic action on the part of the employee to demand too much. Ask your employer sometime what it really costs to have you there. You might be surprised. There are a lot of things you may have never thought about. Think about big bonuses being paid in companies that don’t make a profit. It’s happening right now as we speak.

This recession has caused many employers to rethink their benefit packages. Look at the automakers. Things that were a long time coming, may shortly be going, or are already gone, and may be a long time coming back--if at all. So we are having a little reality check. Employees and their employers’ walk a two way street and they need to help each other stay financially viable. It’s not a contest. Are there greedy employers who take advantage of their people? I’m sure there are a few. But I bet it’s the exception, and not the norm, and I doubt if they are that way, they could find or keep good employees for long.

I worked for a government entity for most of my career. The benefits I had late in my career bordered on ridiculous. More vacation than I could use. Sick days you could take by just calling in and saying you were sick. No proof needed. No incentive not to use them, except the fact you already had more vacation then you could use. Paid health insurance for retires until sixty- five. Many people were able to retire at fifty-five so that was an expensive benefit. At one time we got Columbus Day off for one of our many holidays. No time clocks to punch and very lax accountability. I must tell you most of that has changed where I worked, and despite that existing back then most of the employees were good hard working people, but they didn’t have to be if they didn’t want to be. Lets just say they had a conscience. If—and maybe I should say when this country goes down someday, greed and corruption will be the two biggest contributing factors.

WHO'S GOT YOUR BACK

                                                 

I had a friend ask me the other day how I was doing since my wife’s passing. I sometimes pause for a second when someone asks me that, because I never really know how to answer them. Simply put-- I never know how I’m feeling on any given day. Sometimes things are going fine and then the next minute a subtle reminder comes your way and you hit the pause button to see how you are going to react this time. They told me after her passing to stay busy and not get bogged down with your grief and for the most part that is good advice-- if you can do it. So stay busy I did-- and still do-- but there comes a time each evening when you go to bed and there is not much you can do there to stay busy. It’s a time when you are alone, just you and your thoughts.

I imagine all couples have there own peculiar sleeping habits. I’ve not done much research on the topic because it seems to be a bit personal and not something people want to talk about in any depth. Bedtime for her and I was a time when we talked the most. Maybe it was because there were no kids to interrupt us or phone calls to answer. It was just the two of us, often tired and sometimes just wanting to go to sleep, but if there were things that needed talking out-- that was the time and the place. Once the light went out, however we always found each other in the darkness because she liked to snuggle. She would push herself up against my back, reach for my hand and that’s the way we would spend the night. I used to kid her that she wanted to hold my hand only because, then she knew for sure where it was. She radiated warmth like a little heater and in the winter it was welcome, and in the summer not so much, but the quiet reassurance that she was there still made it all worthwhile--- for you see—she had my back. Figuratively and physically.

“Have your back” was a phrase I first heard when I was actively fighting fires on the fire department. We had a buddy system whenever we were searching burning buildings. You went in together and you came out together and there were no exceptions. Often you would be in complete darkness, looking for a victim or an elusive fire that you had to find, before it found you. As the nozzle man, you had in your hand the means to protect yourself but the man behind you, who had your back, could only hope you didn’t take both of you into the wrong place. Always though there was this quiet reassurance from your buddy behind you, with his hand on your hip. He would try to stay as close to you as he possibly could. You never knew for sure what the outcome would be, but you always knew one thing-- he had your back.

Sometimes at night in my half empty bed, I feel like the child who sleeps down the hall from their parents. They make excuses like “I’m thirsty” or “read me a story”. I say “excuses” because what they really want is just to be near you. You have their back and they know it. Years ago gentleman Jim Reeves sang an old country song that I never forgot and it says it so well for me. “I climb the stairs up to my room but no one meets me in my gloom. The silence tells me you are gone. Just call me lonesome from now on.”