New View Askew

Again I reach way back into the archives for this solstice story. It's one of my favorites because it was such a special year. In fact, there will be a well-earned ✋ for those knowledgeable folks who know what year this was written in. (Or for those grammar nazi's among you, the year in which it was written.) All the clues you need are there. /////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// The Song of the Goat "It is not often that you will hear a goat bleating for no apparent reason, and if you do, it most often signals that something is wrong. Act immediately!" Ancient Greek saying I think those old Greek guys were saying that some things are unmistakable in their meaning and in this case, the goat sees that danger is near. Perhaps our goat has been bleating for quite some time but we just didn’t recognize it. (Which in hindsight, given the last few years, was really true.) This year it is nece

Dedicated to my friends in FL, NV and AZ With special music by Lizzy Rain! After the interruption for that very important post about the end of the golf season I can get back to my more normal kvetching about something.  There is nothing new about us humans building in weird or obviously inhospitable places - some might even include MN in that category - because it has been a human habit throughout our fairly brief stint on this planet. It is also not news that we have a heck on impact on the environment wherever we go.    A couple letters to the editor back in October got me thinking about this.  (You've probably noted that I get a lot of ideas from fellow gadflies who write letters or opinions to the newspaper.) The letters  on 10/15  were regarding the aftermath of Hurricane Ian  and 1 0/16  on a   sad story relating to the disappearing butterflies.   R espectively, they made arguments pro and con about rebuilding in a hurricane zone and about human encroachment on habitat for f

Skip Raking, Go Golfing! I was well along in writing a new post that was a look at why humans tend to move to and live in places that are not really meant for humans. You know, places that are built in a swamp and regularly battered by hurricanes like, say, Ft Myers, FL. Or in a desert, for example, like Las Vegas or Phoenix. Included were thoughts on our selfish destruction of the environment for our fellow creatures like butterflies. But something much more serious and important has come up that I had to acknowledge and write about. The end of the golf season. I know what you’re thinking. “What?! Golf is more important and serious than hurricanes and deserts and stuff?” Sorry, that is a question only a Minnesota non-golfer could ask and the answer, of course, is yes.  Anyway. The season is winding down as it always must up here on the tundra. Oh, there will still be some days where you will see silly golfers out there in 40 degree weather in shorts and windbreaker pretending they

  . . . Not to Praise Them A recent letter to the editor in the Strib regarding the looming - and apparently, welcome - decline of the liberal arts education  (You know, the education most of us got when we went to colleges like the Harvard of the North, UMD!)  struck a chord with me.  It reminded me that I had been thinking about the passing of the good old BA and the Humanities some time ago. Allow me to meander to my point. I started college back when dinosaurs roamed the earth - 1966. Like most wide-eyed freshman, i.e. without a clue, I took all the required liberal arts undergrad courses while assiduously (a word I must have learned in one of those classes) avoiding math and science to the greatest extent possible. (Thankfully, one geology and one biology class filled the requirement.) I admit that when I took classes like World Lit, Intro to Art and Philosophy 101 I simply suffered through them as the price I had to pay to get to declare a major. No change in 56 yrs - still a

  Autumn in Minnesota Ah, autumn in Minnesota, the Dolos of seasons. (You know, Dolos, the Greek spirit of trickery and treachery?) What better name for a spirit that lulls us with a perfect September, a lovely October - then punches us in the face with November enroute to the pits of January, February and March! ( December gets a pass for now for good reason as you will see.)  Wait! I said I was going to write something positive this time and by God I’m going to if I have to lie my butt off.  So, there is much to love about the fall (as long as you have short term memory loss.)   First, think of these soft, cool mornings with bright comfortable days that slide into town in late August. Then as the days wear on the leaves turn to bright colors that make the mythical Joseph’s multi-colored coat look like an army surplus sweatshirt. Of course, the “official” end of summer is signaled by the annual junk food bacchanalia of the state fair. Where else can you see hordes of (full-figured)