My usual sedentary lifestyle has taken a turn toward the wild side this week; two days of fishing for walleye on the Missouri River and a non-stop weekend of playing drums and singing with Mogen’s Heroes first for an event at Willow Run and then headed for Aberdeen for Saturday and Sunday shows at the Arts Festival in Melgaard Park. I hear they have a stand that offers deep fried cheesecake this year. As good as that sounds, I’d trade it for cool temperatures and a bit of a breeze. Anyway, we’ll be playing shows at 11, 1 and 3 both days.

When last we briefly spoke, I was about to embark on my second day of fishing on the Missouri River. After only catching a couple small ones on Wednesday, my hopes weren’t all that high but right away, I started getting action. Several undersize ones at first but that’s okay I just enjoy the catch. But then..well, let the pictures do the talking.

Even when the fish were on break, it is so soothing to be out on the water.

Ft. Randall Dam in the background while my brother in law, Swede, gets ready to land another lunker.

Part of the deal is that Swede doesn’t mind cleaning the keepers. That’s his Lund boat in the background. And, yes, I have checked and no relation.

Day two..different story..Swede got to clean my 17 incher. Biggest of the day.

The girls fished with us Thursday. That’s Linda’s sister, Renee, in the orange. They had so much fun. I believe Linda is saying to me, “you’re not going to put this picture in the blog are you?” I probably said, “Of course not.”

I’ll bring the camera along to Aberdeen. If you’re of a mind to..stop by and check out Mogen’s Heroes making music. I’ll be the guy playing the drums and sweating profusely. Say hi and give me a bite of your funnel cake.

Oh, and a very happy Father’s Day to all you dads out there.

Thinking of mine for sure. Here’s a photo I found of dad holding me in 1946.

Here we are in Lake Andes, South Dakota about to depart the Circle H motel for another day on Lake Francis Case in search of the  wylie Walleye, which, save for a couple of “dinks” that found my line, have managed to skip the nite crawler lunch I offer on my hook..opting instead for the minnow my brother in law, Swede, presents on his. It’s a long time between bites and just three keepers in the boat; all caught by Swede. Today Linda and her sister, Renee will  join us on board after their day-long and unsuccessful attempt to divest the Ft. Randall Casino if its assets.

Sorry this is short. I brought the camera along and have taken several photos but in our haste to leave town, I forgot to bring along the cord for uploading the pictures on my laptop. I’ll post a few of those and continue with tales of our angling efforts when we get home tomorrow.

Whenever I’m out and about which is, admittedly, not all that often, people come up and reminisce about my time on Keloland News and invariably ask about what Steve Hemmingsen is up to these days. Well, I can report that Steve is alive and well in his adoptive hometown of Hendricks, Minnesota living with his black lab Cockle-bur in the lake house he built himself over thirty years ago. He’s since transformed the place from a summer cabin into a very comfortable year round home on one of the sweetest lots along the Hendricks shoreline. Since moving there full time, Steve has really gotten involved in the community especially all the unique things the locals do to keep their little town of around 800 alive and relevant. He’s been a real advocate for the successful effort to keep the high school from closing and merging with nearby Ivanhoe.  Ever the reporter,  Steve had been writing a column for the local newspaper and producing a program about Hendricks on the local cable TV access channel. Then he got the idea to write a Hendricks newsletter..distributing it by e-mail.  It’s filled with photos, current events and gossip along with a bit of Hemmingsen editorializing on issues he feels strongly about. His newsletter has gotten so popular among the folks in and around Hendricks, that his circulation is quickly approaching that of the Hendricks weekly newspaper.

Anyway, since it was such a lovely spring day, I decided to jump in the Camaro and head north to spend it with Steve and check out some of the people and places he writes about.

(Oops, wait a sec. Linda just brought me a Ball Jar filled with a lovely bouquet of fragrant lilacs snipped from the plants around our back deck. For some reason they haven’t flowered for a couple years but are more than making up for it this spring. Wow what a treat for the senses.  I’d take a picture but it’s the amazing aroma that I’d love to share but can’t.)

I got as far as Dell Rapids before the sun disappeared and it started to drizzle. So I pulled over..put the top up..the heater on..and pressed forward. Upon arriving, Steve took me to “The Local” for lunch. It was pizza buffet day and the place was packed;  mostly with young guys from South Africa of all places who were hungry as hounds. (More about that ahead.)

Steve doesn’t play golf but, like so many others in Hendricks, he uses a golf cart to buzz around town. The popularity of Golf carts is no doubt due to the fact that one of the country’s largest golf cart distributors, Ness Brothers (NB) is headquartered in Hendricks.

For dessert, we popped in to Don’s Bakery next door to The Local. I ordered two delicious-looking apple fritters..then forgot them in Steve’s golf car.

Just down the street is another ambitious project; the restoration of the old Hendricks Creamery into a micro brewery. The owners hope to provide at least four different brews when the place is up and running.

The Hendricks school never really had a gymnastics program. Gary and Sherri Johnson didn’t think that was right so, on their own, built a gym on their farm and Hendricks now has some real up and coming gymnasts leaping and flipping and balancing their way into history.

Oh, all those South African guys at the Local work for this guy, Chad Olsen who started a small custom combining operation a few years ago and now is one of the largest operators in the country.

This is just a few of the 80 or so combines he runs..along with all of the trucks and support gear. He hires the South African guys because they’re hard workers, make double the money they would back home and tend to stay on the job the entire season

Another Hendricks business that’s undergone a recent renovation is Cedrics Bar and Fine Dining. Our final stop.

Funny, we hardly talked about TV at all except to agree just how lucky we both are to have shared a career together.

Okay, I get it.

Stop being such a gloomy gus, Lund.

Sheesch.

Not easy to do when it’s primarily the weather that’s got you down in the first place and , once again as I write this, it’s dark as dusk outside with claps of thunder in the distance. So now the month of June is following May’s lead and before you know it..well, enough already.

I’m actually nursing a very sunburned snout after trying to soak up a little too much of Sunday’s rare sunshine. Linda and I took a convertible drive over to the Strawbale Winery near Renner which is just the perfect spot to be on a beautiful day. Rather than just talk about it, here are a couple photos I took:

Strawbale’s big yard with a brand new storm proof timber-frame bandstand. Lots of chairs provided.

Strawbale founder, Don South, visits with customers inside the tasting room.

Susie South mixes up a beverage for Sangria Sunday.

Nothing like wine, my woman and a song to make a Sunday special.

I wouldn’t want to work for the Oklahoma Tourism office this year. The wonderful musical by Rogers and Hammerstein said plenty about  Oh, what beautiful mornings with a bright yellow haze on the meadow and corn as high as an elephant’s eye but nothing about being home to an alley where tornadoes regularly show up like a bunch of street thugs destroying anything and anyone in their path. Twice now, in the last couple weeks, areas in and around Oklahoma City have been hit by huge twisters  pulverizing people and property.   Friday, three noted mobile meteorologists with a reputation for getting up close and personal with tornadoes, got too close and perished.

(L to R) Carl Young, Tim Samaras, Paul Samaras. (CNN photo)

Tim Samaras, his son Paul and Carl Young were stars of the now defunct Discovery Channel series, “Storm Chasers” which followed teams of “scientists” as they ventured into the eye of the storm in weird looking vehicles laden with the latest electronic gadgetry designed for finding and tracking tornado-producing storm clouds. Then, they get as close as “safely” possible, take thrilling videos that will really awe TV audiences, maybe drop some scientific saucers in the cyclone’s path to be sucked up in the storm  to hopefully reveal all kids of previously unknown information, then get the hell out of there making sure to leave the cameras rolling and audio up high so as to record the profanity-laced bleeped reactions of the crew in retreat.  I’ve always been skeptical of the actual science these close encounters provide so I called my pal and longtime colleague, Jay Trobec..chief meteorologist for Keloland TV. He told me that of all the storm chasing celebrities, Tim Samaras, was the most dedicated to finding out what made storms tick. “Tim was one of the few chasers who would call the Storm Center when he was on the scene of tornadoes in our area giving us detailed on-the-ground information of the twister’s path so we could inform and warn our viewers. He was especially helpful when the F-5 wiped out Manchester. All of us weather guys would really like to cut down on the number of ‘false alarms’ during storms. Tim’s research has helped in that effort.  Ironically, Jay said, of all the people out there, Tim seemed the most concerned about safety and not putting himself or his crew in potentially fatal situations. Then for this to happen. It’s just sad.”

I asked Jay whether the death of his friends in Oklahoma would make him think twice about sending our TV meteorologists out in the Keloland storm chasing vehicle, “Dorothy”

“I never ask our guys to go into really dangerous situations,” Jay said. “All we really want is to confirm what we’re seeing on Doppler radar so we can get the word out to viewers. There’s no need to drive into the storm’s path.”

The truth is, just about everybody…including me..is fascinated at seeing  close-up pictures of tornadoes. Some TV network operations, including CNN, will pay to acquire amateur video which, of course, has helped spawn a crop of dare devils willing to risk life and limb for a big thrill and a few bucks.

So, the question remains, does the “science” provided by storm chasers, actually save lives?

Mike Eilts, head of Weather Decision Technologies in Oklahoma, used to be a storm chaser but, as he recently told CNN,  lookie-loos have become more dangerous than funnel clouds.

“These days,” Eilts says, what I’m afraid of are car after car, parallel parked on highway shoulders, with droves of people stretching their arms into the air, trying to capture the ‘money shot.’

“I call it ‘tornado zoo.’ They think they can just drive up like it’s a lion on the other side of the cage. They take a picture or video of it, not thinking that the whole thing can expand in literally seconds, a new suction spot can come out, and you have no time to react to that kind of thing.”

Eilts does believe that the science gleaned from dedicated storm chasers has and continues to be helpful in predicting the personality of tornadoes.

I’m not so sure, though, if it matters all that much what goes on inside a tornado. Sure, the data is interesting but a twister will always be unpredictable with various degrees of ferociousness.

My REAL safety concern is the antiquated EAS warning system which automatically breaks into broadcasts, often when Jay is showing actual live radar and hi-tech images of the actual storm.  When time is critical, EAS supersedes everything with that annoying computer voice reciting dated information at such a snail’s pace that any twister could have done it’s worst and moved on before the warning is through.  I wrote about it last year. Sioux Falls Cable boss, Tom Simmons was one of those who commented and explained. You can call  up the blog by clicking here.

June is traditionally a bad month for tornadoes in Keloland..hopefully you’ll let the pros provide the coverage while you’re safely tucked away in your basement or bathtub with smartphone in hand.

Another dismal drippy dreary day as the month of May schlumps out the back door hopefully embarrassed at not having lived up to expectations once again.

Saturday’s skies showed promise so Linda and I put the Camaro’s top down, cranked up the heater and headed north to Volga to decorate my folks’ gravesite. While at the cemetery, the clouds rolled in blocking the sun revealing just how chilly it really was. When the wind came up, so did the car top and we headed toward the nearby Meadow Creek golf course bar for a beverage and to meet up with my brother and sister-in-law who’d been on similar duty in Toronto and Brandt. On what normally would be a banner day at the course, only a few hearty shivering souls were willing to tee off into the gale. Our cousin, Don and his wife Arlene, are about the only family we have left still living in Volga so we decided to barge in on them which was a lot of fun but, as is typical these days, much of the conversation centered around health issues we have and medications we’re on rather than parties, fast cars and the latest styles in swim suits.

After bidding Don and Arlene adieu, the four of us had nostalgic thoughts of pizza dancing in our heads. It was a close vote between two favorite spots in downtown Brookings; Pizza King and George’s. George’s won out but for some odd reason on a Saturday night, it was closed so we paraded across the street to my choice. I’ve written here before about my affinity for Pizza King which has been around since my youth. I’ve always appreciated how it’s sliced into little greasy squares rather than huge wedges. It’s a good pie. Trouble is, the wait is excruciatingly long. Of course the four of us don’t have any trouble making conversation but after a while, a very long while, our voices are drowned out by growling stomachs. Pizza after aromatic pizza passed under our noses all heading to other destinations; the delivery vehicle or someone else’s table in the rather small dining area. My curse was being seated near the baking ovens with a clear view of the cooks and the customers. It appeared to me after forty minutes or so that we were being ignored or had been forgotten. Linda, who is a good person, could see I was about to lodge a complaint and pleaded for patience; that I keep my trap shut noting how busy the place was and how none of us will starve. I held my salivating tongue until people who arrived after us were already on their second set of napkins. That’s when I semi-politely inquired as to where we might be in the serving rotation. A few minutes later, the pies appeared and, as it turns out for the first time in my life, weren’t worth the wait. At least that was my conclusion which wasn’t necessarily shared by others in the booth. Perhaps it’s just that I’ve had a bad taste in my mouth lately about lots of things..not the least of which is the fact that my favorite month took a dive, my latest diet is a joke, my boulevard, along with thousands of others around town ,is ruined because branches the city promised to pick-up two weeks ago are still there and still suffocating and rotting the grass below.

Linda, who as I say, is a good person, is pleading with me to be patient.
“The job is enormous,” she says. “They must be doing the best they can. Our turn will come.” “Yeah right,” I say. “Give me some of that FEMA money and I’ll buy a pick-up and haul the damn things away myself.”  “ You know,” she says, “you should be counting your blessings instead of bellyaching about pizza,  branches and big bellies. Frustration can only lead to an early grave.”

She’s right, of course and I suppose changes must come soon if I expect to continue being a Memorial Day viewer rather than the viewee.  If only the sun would come out. But then, I suppose it’ll be too hot…ghaaaaaaaaaa.

UPDATE: No sooner had I posted this blog than I heard a roar outside and a big black truck with “Disaster Relief” painted on the side, drive down our street and in front of the house. See it DOES pay to complain.

UPDATE TWO: Complaining theory further validated: The sky has cleared, temperature 70 degrees and light breeze.  Wait..what’s that? Now it’s snowing! Nope, I’m wrong.. cottonwood fluff.

Just got back from a private showing of the hottest movie in the country, “Star Trek Into Darkness.” Well, practically private. I think there were about three others at the Tuesday 1pm matinee at Century theaters East.   I know it’s typical for me to pee and moan about the movies I see; too expensive, too blaringly loud, too peppered with pointless profanity, or too far away from the toilet but none of that this time. Let’s talk about this movie in particular and why I was kind of disappointed in how it played too fast and loose with reality. Wait a minute, Lund, you’re watching a film about science fiction where humans and aliens hop around the universe at warp speed armed with phasers  and photon torpedoes..and you’re questioning the “reality” of it all? Now, before you trekkies write me off as someone who just “doesn’t get it” let me explain that, while I’ve never attended a Star Trek convention and don’t have even one piece of Star Trek memorabilia, I have seen every TV show and theatrical production of the franchise since it began in 1966. I’ve bought in to every one of them..save the last two. Now don’t get excited I’m not going to spoil anything if you haven’t seen it or comment beyond what you’ve already noted in the trailers. My beef, I guess, is that when the late Gene Roddenberry created Star Trek his ideas about zipping around the galaxies in a star ship..encountering strange new worlds, always seemed believable to me. It’s just that technology hadn’t yet caught up with his wonderful imagination.   What Roddenberry didn’t do was allow his human characters to somehow become super human which is what’s happened in the latest films. Kirk, Spock and Scotty leaping from dizzying heights onto moving platforms  a hundred yards below without so much as a bruise much less ending up in a crumpled heap of broken bones. Speaking of Bones, Dr. McCoy’s character has been annoyingly dumbed down in this installment and there are so many inside references to past and popular Star Trek stories that it’s like the crew stops and breaks character long enough to wink at the audience.

I haven’t  seen a movie in 3D since Avatar and, am still not sold on it. I’m not sure that having space junk appear to fly right over my head is enough to justify the extra cost or the murkiness of images on screen due to the special dark glasses you must wear for the desired effect.

*********************************************************************************

I was pleased that photographer, Paul Horsted, became a Facebook  friend of mine this week. I’ve long admired his talents..especially when he seeks out a location in the Black Hills where a picture was taken a century ago. He then shoots a new image and displays the two side by side revealing how much..or how little..the landscape has changed in the last one hundred years or so. He’s published several books that illustrate his technique.

Horsted was able to locate the exact spot where George Armstrong Custer posed with a bear he’d shot while exploring the Black Hills in 1874.

Check out his website. It is..as Spock would say, “fascinating.”  http://www.dakotaphoto.com/#/11

I thought of Paul today as I took a look out our French door to see green grass and lilacs in bloom..a far cry from a few short weeks ago when it sounded like the world was crashing down on us.

I was so proud of my Keloland colleagues who produced this week’s Keloland 60^th Anniversary Special. (Still available to see at Keloland.com) It was a terrific program and demonstrates that the TV station’s legacy is in good and caring hands. May Keloland and the talented crew who make our starship keep functioning on all thrusters, “Live long and prosper.”

It’s been interesting, this week, to see the cherry tree outside my window fill up with buds and birds, keeping a stiff upper limb pretending that last month’s devastating ice storm never happened. I made a rather feeble attempt to trim back some of the surviving branches to help it regain a sense of symmetry but, I’m afraid, it looks like a bad haircut that’s just going to have to grow out on its own. After a week that has gone from shivering cold to sweltering heat in a matter of hours, the dandelions have finally decided it was safe to come out and have been pushing their little yellow heads up from the dirt. They’re either really tough buggers this year or the weed killer I bought last summer has lost considerable potency because one spray ain’t cuttin’ it.

I’ve really been clomping down nostalgia lane lately as Keloland Television approaches its 60^th anniversary May 19^th.

My first shot at anchor in 1975 with Jim Burt, Steve Hemmingsen and Dave Dedrick.

I’ve done a couple interviews with Angela Kennecke recalling memories of my 32 years working there. I’ve always felt a bit guilty using that term because being part of Keloland TV has never been what I think of as “work.”  When I sacked oat hulls at Cotton Elevator in Volga or picked rocks on my Uncle Johnny’s farm; that was work. For the most part, employment at Keloland was more of a joy than a job.

Anyway, the Keloland News and Production departments have really been busy digging through the archives rounding up fascinating images; photos, films and video tapes..some of  which you’ve been seeing recently during newscasts and on Keloland.com. It all comes together for an ambitious hour-long special on Monday May 20^th at 6:30 pm.

In 8 years of doing the Lund at Large blog, I’ve shared a lot of personal memories posting, at one time or another, most every picture and plaque I have from my career in TV.

So, some of these included below have been here before but am sharing again for those who may not have seen them, don’t mind seeing them again or simply enjoy watching the physical deterioration of an anchorman through the ages.

Steve, Me and Burt aboard the Kelo plane heading to Huron and the State Fair

Once in Huron, we’d stroll around the fairgrounds handing out Keloland program schedules.

Sometime later, I had the bright idea to cut down on the walking and autograph the sun visors Kelo was giving away outside our mobile home on the fairgrounds. A  gesture of vanity, I suppose, but people stood in long lines for them. We eventually got a table and chairs so we could sit down as we signed. Both Steve and I wish we could slip into those pants again.

Every once in a while, one of those Keloland visors shows up..like this one at a rummage sale for a quarter.

What an honor to be associated with this bunch of guys for so long.

And, what a treat it is to STILL be part of the Keloland team as the Voice of Keloland. Here’s a quick look at what my current duties entail.

I usually go in a couple times a week for a recording session and have the chance to greet folks in the newsroom, like producers, Anna Peters and Andy Graning (both seated) Along with Ben Dunsmoor and Perry Groten checking over the rundown.

Chief photographer, Kevin Kjergaard on his way to shoot another award winner story.

My boss, Paul Farmer sets up to record my voice. Tapes..even discs are things of the past. It’s all digital now.

“Keloland News, brought to you by Grand Falls Casino.”

At home, I have loads of reminders about my long association with Keloland Television on the walls of our basement and my man cave.

Just a few photos and items from my basement shrine.

Among my proud possessions is the glass circle from Captain 11′s original time converter and,below, a lovely sentiment from Angela given when I retired.

One day, Linda surprised me with a collection of awards and special memorabilia arranged on the wall of my man cave. What a wonderful little wifey she is.

It’s as cliche as can be but it really does seem like yesterday when it was me spending the better part of a year assembling photographs, films and interviews after being assigned to produce  Keloland TV’s 25th anniversary special. It wound up running two hours during prime time in May of 1978.  And now..look here..we’re still around and taking part in the 60th!  The “60 Years In Keloland” hour long special can be seen Monday evening, May 20th at 5:30 pm Central time.  Don’t you dare miss it.

First of all, HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY to all of you who qualify. The upcoming holiday got me to thinking about a couple of classy broads who played a significant role in my TV career and who’ve recently celebrated significant birthdays. I know some of you might think the term “ classy broads”  may not be very complimentary but I use it with the greatest amount of respect and, if you know either of them, you’d agree the description fits.

First, Sylvia Henkin has chalked up another year (her 92^nd) with no noticeable changes physically.. to her energy level..or commitment to projects and causes that extend well into the future and for which, she fully expects to be around.  

Sylvia and yours truly at her 90th birthday party.

She’s always been a tireless promoter of Sioux Falls ever since moving here from Sheldon, Iowa in 1944 and marrying KSOO Radio owner, Mort Henkin. Before long she was on the airwaves hosting programs like “Party Line” which was filled with information and events of interest to the listening audience. Sylvia, like WNAX’s Wynn Speece, (The Neighbor Lady, another classy broad) was unique throughout the region in that they provided a welcome women’s voice on the radio that housewives in town and on the farm really appreciated. When Mort added KSOO television to the fold in the early sixties, Sylvia became an even bigger celebrity as she and Ray Loftesness  brought Party Line to TV.  I was lucky enough to get my first television job at KSOO and, when Lofty left, some lunatic in charge decided to pair me up with Sylvia. I was as green as Kermit The Frog’s backside, but  was welcomed to the set with open arms, literally. That has always been Sylvia’s style and, thanks to her kindness and mentoring manner, I learned how to relax on the air and just go with the flow.

My mom, God rest her soul, had put together a scrapbook of my life which she gave me shortly before she passed away in 1995. Among the special things inside was this picture; the only one I have showing Sylvia and me on the set of Party Line in 1972.

Also on that image is another grand lady who meant so much to my early career in broadcasting; Gena Hartig.

I’d known of Gena after years of watching her on Keloland Television doing commercials for kitchen appliances and other products as well as hosting shows of special interest to women viewers. When I joined Keloland TV in 1974, Gena and her husband Leo Hartig co-anchored the Noon show.

 When Leo was on assignment one day, I was tapped to be his replacement. I got to be nervous all over again. But, like Sylvia two years earlier, Gena put me instantly at east and even called me “Sweety.” 

Leo and Gena Harting taking a quick lunch break while working at the Keloland Gold Rush in 1961.

After Leo died a few years ago, Gena..a wonderful singer and musician..moved to Omaha to be closer to her sons, Geoffrey, Michael and Tom who’ve carried on their parent’s show business tradition; working in video/audio and music production. Tom is a world class jazz saxophonist with loads of credits including “Mannheim Steam Roller”

I haven’t seen Gena for several years now, but we keep in touch. She now lives in a retirement home but tells me it’s pretty boring; too many old people, she says. She also keeps asking if I’m still married..heh, heh.

Gena just turned 90 herself  but, like Sylvia, doesn’t look or act her age..thank goodness. The Omaha World Herald recently featured a fascinating article about Gena’s remarkable life which included a whole lot more than being one of the first women on television in Sioux Falls, South Dakota.

If you’d like to read the story just CLICK HERE.

On their 90th birthday, Gena and her twin sister sat down to the piano to entertain the guests with a classy classical. Want to see and hear it? Okay. CLICK HERE.

Let’s see..I was going to write some other stuff but it will have to wait until Tuesday. As you may have heard, Keloland TV is celebrating its 60^th anniversary which will culminate with an hour long special May 20^th.  In my next few blogs leading up to the special, I’ll be sharing some personal memories and images from my years with Keloland; “First with the best in the upper Midwest.”

Believe me, I’m as sick and tired of showing you pictures of my back yard as you are seeing them but, since you’ve followed our sad saga thus far I figured you should see the final (at least I hope it’s the final) insult. Sometime during the night I was awakened by the familiar ticking sound of ice pellets hitting the roof followed by a a crunching crash out back.

Hip hip hurray for the month of May

Just when you thought the old maple tree had been stripped of all her vulnerable branches by the last storm, another large one couldn’t stand the strain and lost its grip in the darkness narrowly missing the same powerline that got snapped two weeks ago. It will now, I suppose, end up in a humiliating mountain of mulch rather than fulfilling its noble calling of providing oxygen for the atmosphere, a roost for robins and sparrows and squirrels, beautifying the neighborhood and rendering a bit of shade from the hot summer sun for the old couple who dwell below.

It’s May Day. In my youth, I remember giving and receiving little packages of goodies delivered to and by special friends. It was my first experience with the power of passion..especially if the Anundson or Eggebratten girls came to our door with a tray of May baskets.

I don’t think they do May baskets much anymore do they?

A lot of other images come to mind when pondering past May firsts; the aroma of freshly turned dirt for the garden; the sight of tulips reaching  up from their subterranean slumber  and riding into the blue sky aboard a single green stem; the sound of lawn mowers roaring to life and the curses of men whose machines refused to respond to dozens of tiring tugs on the starter rope.

I also have vivid memories of watching the annual May Day show of Russian military might on TV. Miles of missiles and synchronized Soviet soldiers passing in review before stern-faced old fat guys in medal-laden uniforms. I always figured it was only a matter of time before one of those ICBM’s would be launched..intentionally or accidentally..at us and that would be that.

Before Hell decided to freeze over, Linda and I along with our friends Denny and Joan, took advantage of our faux spring a few days ago to have a picnic in the park. Our park of choice is the Perry Nature Area just east of Sioux Falls. In fact, the area used to “be” the community of East Sioux Falls. It’s a lovely spot where families who worked the Sioux Quartzite quarries in the early 20^th century used to live. The only remnants of their existence, though, are a few cement foundations and flowers; all varieties of flowers, planted in backyard gardens by women in bonnets nearly a century ago that still pop up every spring. The poor trees that give Perry Nature Area it’s charm also took a beating from the ice storm but the mighty Bur Oak, believed to be the oldest in South Dakota, still stands straight and tall; too tough to be intimidated by a little ice.  The four of us were all smiles as we sat at our usual table under the park shelter; commenting on what a joy it was to finally have seemingly awakened from our long winter nightmare. We offered up toast after toast with our glasses full of wine. We don’t bring cold chicken and potato salad to these picnics; it’s wine and cheese and warm biscuits and butter. It was while opening our second bottle of Pinot Noir that we began to wonder if Perry Nature Area was among the parks to ban booze. The thought was a bit unnerving but not enough to pack up and leave. I had a plan in mind if the park manager would have pulled up in his pick-up to give us a talking to. “We’re having a church service,” I’d say. “You’ve come just in time for communion and a prayer of thanksgiving for this beautiful day.”  He’d retreat in shame, of course. “Ha, ha ha..we sure fooled him,” I’d say while popping the cork on the last Merlot. “I sure hope God has a sense of humor,” Joanie said while looking up at the blue sky and sunshine.

“Of course He does,” I replied, “What do you think He’d do..make it snow in May?”

GOING..

 GOING..

GONE…..SORT OF..

  The trillions of twigs that remain still need to be raked up and hauled away. I was just about to call the guy back to finish the job (which he couldn’t do then because of snow on the ground) but I better wait BECAUSE IT’S SNOWING AGAIN!  

Like a January blizzard, it’s coming down sideways riding along on 30 mile an hour gusts of wind. High today and tomorrow..mid 30’s. Normal high this time of year; low 60’s.  I don’t ever recall a winter so determined to overstay its welcome. I had high hopes Easter weekend when it was nice enough for a family outing at the Falls. Jackets replaced parkas. The sun felt warm on the face, cardinals were holding concerts in the trees and golf courses were opening. Then, winter gave us one of those slow-motion Rocky Balboa punches to the face, You know..so hard that the sweat goes flying and your jaw becomes distorted.  That was just the early rounds; we’ve been getting pummeled ever since. Some have thrown in the towel and got the hell out of town seeking warmth and sanity in places far south from here with Spanish names. Good for you. We’re all jealous but please stop posting pictures of your feet resting upon soft white sands pointing toward the warm emerald waters of some distant ocean. We’re not in the mood. We are cranky and, even though the extended forecast again shows gradually warming temperatures this week, we  have heard those ducks fart in the water before. Optimistic forecasts from well meaning meteorologists  get trumped by some big low pressure system that forms up in Canada and descends with a fury to us unsuspecting souls across the border. We have become calloused and tend to believe that forecasters may actually be intentionally flinging folly  in order to keep us from knowing the truth; that another savage storm is heading our way..knowing that such news will send many, ravaged with cabin fever, off the deep end charging into the streets screaming and scaring the children.   Poor Linda is almost beyond consoling. Her normally affable attitude and Pollyanna personality has descended into a state of frustration and disappointment. Like many of you, she’s been so anxious to be outside; to get her hands in the dirt planting flowers and enjoying a nice glass of wine on our deck. It also can’t be easy for her to be stuck in perpetuial close proximity with me all the time when normally I’d be out of the house and her hair playing golf a couple days a week by now.

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I’m glad they got the 2^nd Boston bombing suspect ..and they got him alive.. but I’m still not clear on the circumstances surrounding his capture inside a covered boat in some guy’s backyard. Police say they opened fire after hearing a shot come from the boat. Luckily, I guess, the suspect survived and was pulled out an hour later and sent to the hospital for treatment of two wounds; one to the leg (believed to have been from the shootout the night before) and another to the mouth and throat.

Dzhokhar Tsarnaey being taken into custody.

It’s that throat wound, which we’re not hearing much about, that has led some..including me..to wonder if the shot from the boat, which led to the volley by police, was actually Tsarnaey lifting the cover up and firing at his pursuers or a botched attempt to commit suicide.  Don’t get me wrong, law enforcement officers..thousands of them..deserve credit for bringing these two evil brothers down but do they deserve praise for taking Dzhokhar alive..or were they just lucky that none of their bullets, which, according to its owner, left his boat looking like Swiss cheese, found their mark?  Does it matter? Yeah, I think it does; full disclosure and all that.

Well, it’s stopped snowing for now. Better check and see if I have enough gas for the snowblower..not just for today but this weekend when it’s supposed to hit 70.

P.S. Here’s an interesting and timely tidbit from the Keloland memory banks:  Keloland founder, Joe L. Floyd was good friends with Wisconsin Senator, Gaylord Nelson. In 1969 the two of them were in Florida together when Nelson mentioned his deep concerns about environmental issues facing America. Nelson said he wanted to organize some major event to call attention to the worsening condition. He had the idea but was stuck for a catchy title. That’s when Joe Floyd said, “Why don’t you just call it Earth Day?” And that’s what Nelson did..promoting it from his Senate office before the concept caught on nationally. Now, as the late great Paul Harvey used to say, you know the rest of the story.