New View Askew

  Is   Our National Tolerance of Annunciation Tragedies   Why You Don't Need an Assault Rifle Like many people, I’ve had some time to think about the Annunciation horror. (Not that I wanted to.) In the brief interim there have been several more school and mass shootings so one might ask, is there any point to talk about this sort of thing anymore? (Although apprently I can't help myself, here’s a link to a very brief excerpt of a post of mine from 2023.)  April 2023 Excerpt Seriously, I’m amazed that we still talk about this stuff at all. But we must.  Sadly, this national psychosis is nothing new for us (after all we are a notoriously violent people.) The first recorded school shooting in America was 1840 and then one every few years thereafter with one or two kids killed - until 1966 when Charles Whitman killed 18 people at the Univ. Of Texas. There were several more, of course, until the next big one, Columbine High School in 1999 where 16 people died. ...

 . . . To   Whatever Comes Next Sep 1 st , Last Day of Minnesota State Fair                                                                                                                                                                                                        Sept 2nd   Okay, a bit of an exaggeration but that’s what it seems like .     Note: I am not commenting on the horrific tragedy that occurred at Annunciation Church last month at this time. I sim...

. . . You've Got to Have Friends You had to be careful not to get your necktie stuck in the ball return   Ah, the Dog Days of summer. These hot (smoke-filled) days are a great time to ponder the mysteries of life. For instance,  “How come my spouse (and let’s face it, usually the wife) cranks up the thermostat to 76 on cold winter days but complains that’s too warm on hot summer days?” or  “Why is it that the more golf I play the worse I get?”    Never mind, those are imponderable. Easier perhaps, we could also ponder this: What in the wide world of sports has happened to us. What? Oh no, I don’t mean That, not the present sad state of affairs with our government. No, l et’s ponder this instead (sorry, more statistics): a 2024 survey found that only 27% of American men reported having six or more close friends, compared to 55% in 1990. Women, especially younger women, also have fewer close friends - although more than men. Experts call it the “friendship recessi...

  . . . or Not Bluto - "7 Years of college down the drain - might as well have joined the Peace Corps!" I am working very hard at writing about things that have nothing to do with our current gloomy civic life but as John Lennon sang, “. . . you know it ain’t easy.” And it ain’t! Anyway, thanks to a couple articles in the Strib I have managed once again to avoid the slippery slope to despondency (mostly) with what is hopefully a vaguely interesting post about education in America. Actually, higher education.  (And yes, MDL made me promise not to look up stupid words for simple things - Bor-ing!) In the movie “The Graduate” there is a scene at Benjamin Braddock’s (Dustin Hoffman) college graduation party where one of the guests offers Ben career advice with one word – “plastics.” In the movie this scene has a lot of different meanings besides career, one of which was a metaphorical description of modern (60’s) American life. You know, cheap, ticky tacky, consumer-driven. (Ap...

  Of   Dads ... and  Brief Shining Moments        Like Brigadoon*, this is our magical moment. Unlike that mythological place, however, we don't have to wait a hundred years for it to return, it occurs every year. T hat moment  is  now. This is the peak of summer, those few wonderful days between the (nominally) popular Fathers Day and the 4th of July. This is that point in time here when night is in full retreat, when all of nature's bounty is in bloom and all is right in this northern paradise: Flip flops, tank tops, and sun dresses are di rigueur.  Allow me to share a short, vaguely interesting back story. Everyone that knows me knows that for many years I have had a weird dislike for the summer solstice - and a love of its winter alter ego. So much so that I couldn't enjoy these marvelous days like I should. Somehow gloom rather than joy would start creeping in on little cat's feet just about now. I know, it seems irra...