Category Archives: Uncategorized

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Built To Not Last

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Lots of attention has been given to yesterday’s final game at the Metrodome, with the consensus that the highlights of its three decade life span were the Twins’ World Series victories in ’87 and ’91, and the Vikings loss in the NFL’s National League championship game in ’99.

Metrodome_Aerial_2006

All the recent references I’ve seen to the Metrodome’s cost (55 million dollars) have had to do with what a bargain that was, considering the history that happened there and the new stadium’s price tag of around one billion dollars.

I’m old enough to tell you that the many, many public discussions leading up to the building of the Metrodome did not often include the word “bargain”. Many people found it amazing that any community resources at all would be used to help pay for a sports palace. And “palace” is the right word – though the building is portrayed as being rather utilitarian in the modern press, at the time it was considered to be a remarkable advance. But there was strong opposition. And if anyone leading the effort to build the Metrodome had said that the thing would be used for only thirty years and then abandoned, it would have scotched the deal, I’m certain.

What I haven’t seen mentioned lately is how much of the Metrodome struggle was about strengthening downtown Minneapolis – returning excitement and activity to the city’s center at a time when everything seemed to be moving to the suburbs. Though literally none of the promised surrounding development materialized, to the extent the building kept downtown as a regional destination point, it was a success. But the sports arena longevity prize will have to go to some other structure. Williams Arena, perhaps?

What torn down building would you like to have back?

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Bart’s Christmas Letter

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Today’s post comes from Bart the Bear – the bear who found a cell phone in the woods.

H’lo Friends,

One of those tiny little mail trucks turned over in a stiff northwesterly wind the other day, and all the Christmas cards poured out. A few of them blew into the trees and I opened about twenty, all with chatty holiday letters inside. I didn’t know people did this!

Of course I like the idea so I decided to write one of my own.

Greetings Friends!

I hope this Christmas finds you fat and happy. I am both! I gained a bunch of pounds this fall storing up calories for the winter – just like last year and every year before it. It’s what we bears do, and I’m good at it.

Bart_Santahat

In the early part of 2013 I had a swell den in a low spot where a tree fell and a dry creek made a hollow that was out of the wind and very cozy for most of January and February. But when things started to melt, it got a bit damp and I had to get up early to scout around for more food. I was lucky because somebody up here put a whole bunch of money into buying up the last of the Twinkies and the Hostess cupcakes when it looked like they wouldn’t be manufactured anymore. And later when somebody else bought the equipment and flooded the stores with “new” Twinkies and Hostess Cupcakes they took their investment and dumped it in the woods. I guess they were disgusted with their unsuccessful attempt to corner a market that was coming back around again. Thirty five cases of factory-made pastry! I ate for a month.

As far as travels go, this year I went up north to where that big highway crosses in front of the lake. Then I went as far east as the river, over west to the place where the trees thin out, and down south to the place with the campgrounds where I’m not supposed to be. Tranquilizer dart territory.

I wanted to make it to London and Rome and Shanghai this year just like some of the people in those Christmas letters I found, but I’m only able to get as far as the place in online reservations where they ask you for a credit card number. Of course I find credit cards in the woods all the time. It’s surprising how careless people can be! But when the name on the card doesn’t match the address I make up, airlines kick me off their website. My dream is that someday I’ll be able to book a flight at least. Actually getting through security and getting on a plane would be a tougher problem. I’m big, I smell bad, I don’t have a legal ID and I don’t wear clothes – all things that would make those Homeland Security people suspicious. But at least I wouldn’t have to worry about taking off my shoes or my belt.

Throughout most of the spring and the summer my time was completely filled up scavenging for food, hanging out around a couple of trails I know, and posing for pictures taken by hikers who can’t seem hold the camera still. Half the time they take the shot, then drop the camera (or phone) and run. I’m guessing there wasn’t a single photo of me that didn’t come out blurry. Some days I think I know how Bigfoot feels.

Speaking of other animals, there was a female in the area last Spring and I got a pretty clear idea that she was ready to connect with somebody and produce some cubs, but we could never seem to get on the same page about that. Our paths crossed a couple of times but I didn’t get the sense that she was interested in me at all. Personally, I mean, as a bear.  Not a lot to talk about between us, and the woods are full of bears who are only interested in casual encounters.

Don’t get me wrong – I don’t have a problem with being alone. But if you’ve got a family to be with at Christmas time, you should be grateful even if you don’t like them all that much. Families aren’t there to make you happy, they’re there to make you aware of the world and your place in it, and to remind you of where you come from.

I have no idea about that – if I have any relatives in these woods it’s a mystery to me. I argue with almost every bear I see – that’s my nature. But if I knew for sure that some of them shared my DNA, I’d really give them a piece of my mind.

That’s what family is for!

Your pal,
Bart

What are relatives for?

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Fire or Ice?

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Today’s post comes from Bathtub Safety Officer Rafferty.


At ease, civilians!

But when I say ‘at ease’ of course I mean you should remain extremely watchful. A healthy amount of trepidation is better for you than multivitamins, as we just discovered, though that’s mostly because everything is better for you than multivitamins.

And do not worry that you will ever run out of things to fear because there is always another catastrophe looming on the horizon.

Case in point: I have spent many hours worrying that a major asteroid will crash into our planet, causing an enormous explosion that will eject massive amounts of dirt and gas into the atmosphere, obliterating the sun and making life as we know it unsustainable.

But last week I discovered that maybe I should be looking down instead.

Yellowstone_caldera

New research suggests the supervolcano under Yellowstone National Park is much bigger than previously thought.. Now they’re saying it could be 55 miles across, which makes it big enough to cause an enormous explosion that will eject massive amounts of dirt and gas into the atmosphere, obliterating the sun and making life as we know it unsustainable.

Of course scientists say they are monitoring Yellowstone closely and there is no indication that it is in any way about to blow. Should changes occur that suggest an eruption is at hand, we would have time to prepare.

Somehow I’m not comforted.

And what if an asteroid crashed into the Yellowstone caldera? Wouldn’t that set it off immediately? This is the sort of thing that keeps me awake on long winter nights, which is, by the way, the season we’re in. It is a time of despair, which suits me just fine. I may be the only person who has seasonal affective disorder all year round. Stepping outside, I pause to wonder if the prevailing northwest wind will freeze us in our tracks before we can be incinerated by speeding rocks from above or molten rock from below.

It reminds me of my favorite poem about armaggeddon, Fire and Ice by Robert Frost.

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

Yours in Safety, B.S.O.R.

Bathtub Safety Officer Rafferty is at his usual life-of-the-party best here. He suggested this post should run on Christmas Day because it might give families a chance to talk about their Volcano Evasion Plan over dinner, but I hinted to him it was a bit of a downer and we might go with it a day or so early. He said the prospect of things happening before he expects them to is another scenario that keeps him up at night.

Fire or Ice – what’s your preference?

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Fido, Speak!

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Today’s post comes from the dealmaker and marketing genius Spin Williams, who is always in residence at The Meeting That Never Ends.

We’re always on the lookout for sparkling new ideas that have great potential but seem so ridiculous at first blush that most venture capital firms decline to get involved as a matter of image preservation – they simply don’t want to look silly.

No_more_woof

Well at the Meeting That Never Ends, we don’t have that problem. We know that the people who make BIG money must be willing to appear foolish sometimes – and maybe all the time. That’s why we love this Scandinavian dog communication project, called No More Woof.

Not only is it a creative and technologically feasible idea – it’s totally charming and completely fund-able. And if you don’t believe me, watch the video. It’s worth it just to hear the beguiling way those Swedes say the name of the product. If only my dog barked like that!

We think this product has great potential, especially since making the connection between your dog’s thought patterns as measured by the EEG and actual sentences using words and complete ideas is an act of translation that is wide open to artistic license, and what’s more, commercial influence!

For instance, we all know that when friends come to visit you at your home, Fido will greet them with excitement and his thought patterns would likely translate into something like “Do you have anything to eat?” and “I’d like to sniff your butt!”

But who could prove that he didn’t also want to say “Forty Per Cent off selected Lady’s Shoes this weekend at Famous Footwear” or “Degree™ antiperspirant and deodorant is engineered for superior long-lasting protection!”

It’s possible, especially if Famous Footwear and Degree Antiperspirant decide to sponsor some time on your dog’s Stream of Consciousness. After all, who could resist a product when it’s pitched by your best friend?

Mark my words – Ad Mutts will someday completely take the place of TV. Recognizing that obvious truth before everyone else does is the thing that separates great entrepreneurs like me from always penniless consumers like, well … you!

That’s a free glimpse of your future. Don’t say I didn’t tell you so!

Your farsighted friend, Spin

Spin may have a point here, though it’s a horrifying one. But corporations would likely demand some kind of advertising override feature so Fido isn’t yammering on about getting low insurance rates through Geico while he’s shredding your new down pillows and chewing up your iPhone.

And although the name of the product is charming, what if it turns out that the word your dog is REALLY thinking of happens to be … “Woof”?

Given the power of speech, what would your pet talk about?

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Illegal Use of Hands

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Today’s post comes from Congressman Loomis Beechly, representing all water surface area in the state of Minnesota.

Beechly Ice shark copy

Greetings Constituents,

I am alarmed to see the tussle that has emerged from President Obama’s brief handshake with Cuban strongman Raul Castro. How our president could be so careless is beyond a mystery to me. I have been in politics for a relatively short while but I learned early on that it is very bad policy to shake hands with people.

That’s why I don’t do it! Not only is it unsanitary, it’s bad politics.

Those of you who have met me at campaign rallies know that I’m a back slapper. I will enthusiastically slap the back of anyone who is willing to stand near me, but I won’t hug you or leave my arm lying across your shoulders and I won’t shake hands because I could pick up germs or worse, political cooties!

Here’s the honest truth – when I’m introduced to people, I have no idea who they are or what they have done. Or what they WILL do. Unfortunately, a photograph of me with any person found later to have committed a heinous act could spell the end of my political career. And if that happens, we ALL lose!

So in self defense, I will slap you on your back. Why? Because in the moment it feels chummy, but in photographs it looks like I could be pushing you away. If it turns out later that you abuse kittens or run a meth lab, that’s the spin I’ll put on our encounter. I say this to be completely transparent and honest with you. While some constituents have complained about this habit of mine, most who have heard the explanation come to understand it is simply good common sense.

And it works both ways – as protection for you, too! I don’t have to tell you Congress is highly unpopular right now. And you never know what I’ll do! But I think we can all agree, I’m probably smarter than the president! On this issue, anyway.

So look for me in the district this winter. I won’t make you take your gloves off to greet me – it’s far too cold for that. We’ll just share a mutual pounding between the shoulder blades. It’s just one of the many ways I continue to look out for your interests, and mine.

Your Congressman,
Loomis Beechly

I told Congressman Beechly there’s another good reason not to shake hands at 9th district political events – so many of the participants have just had their fingers in a cup of worms! Of course whenever I think of handshakes, this song comes to mind!

Are you a glad hander or a back slapper?

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Ask Dr. Babooner

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We are ALL Dr. Babooner
We are ALL Dr. Babooner

Dear Dr. Babooner,

I was traveling over the Thanksgiving holiday and found myself in the San Francisco airport suffering from an undue amount of stress because I had just been told by an unsympathetic gate agent that my baggage was headed to Cincinnati while I was returning home to Minnesota.

I have spent all my life suppressing feelings of rage and I was in the process of quashing these latest destructive urges as well when all of a sudden I found myself on the edge of a hysterical screaming fit. It was as if every bit of frustration I had  experienced for any reason at any time was going to come pouring out of me in the form of an extremely dramatic tantrum.

Just then, a volunteer approached with a dog that was wearing a “Pet Me” vest. I fell to my knees and hugged the animal as the savior that he was while his handler explained that several dogs had been dispatched throughout the airport as a stress-relief measure.

She explained that this particular dog, whose name was ‘Toby’, was exceptionally good-natured. “Toby has never done anything inappropriate,” she said. “He is a model canine citizen.”  She noted that Toby had already pulled several distressed travelers back from the brink of madness that very day.

As I petted Toby I felt years of built-up rage leave my body – not just the anger that had erupted over my lost baggage but anger tied to the emotional baggage I had started collecting the day I was born. I was elated to sense these poisonous feelings were leaving my body, but at the same time I noticed that Toby’s eyes got wide and his muscles tensed up.  The more I embraced him, the more relaxed I became and the more agitated he seemed.   

I told the volunteer how very grateful I was for the relief Toby had provided. As I watched them walk down the concourse, I watched Toby’s gait stiffen a bit, and when they were right in front of a crowded TCBY I was horrified to see Toby pause, glance over his shoulder at me, wink, and poop.

Now I’m concerned that I have poisoned Toby with my years of accumulated stress and may have turned him from a “model canine citizen” into a very naughty dog.

I’d like to find Toby again and take back some of my offloaded negativity so he can live a happy life. But I don’t know what sort of human-canine interaction would allow stress to flow the other way. Do you?

Sincerely,
Dogwrecker

I told D.W. I”m not aware of any way you can recover stress from a dog once petting that dog has removed it from you.   Canines are notorious for being possessive, so don’t even try.  As for the ‘evidence’ that  Toby’s emotional equilibrium was upset by D.W.’s rage transfer, a little bit of awkwardly placed poop is a small thing in the universe of potential dog mischief.  For me, the real question raised by this story is this:  How do you teach a dog to wink?

But that’s just one opinion.  What do YOU think, Dr. Babooner?  

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The Way The Wind Blows

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Today’s post comes from 9th District Congressman Loomis Beechly, representing all the water surface area in the State of Minnesota.

Pandering to Paddlers.
Pandering to Paddlers.

Greetings, Constituents!

The first I want you to know about me is that I’m on your side – and that’s true no matter which side your side might be. I will always support the closely held opinions of We The People. And when I’m talking directly to you, I support the notions of You The Person.

Some hyper-critical pundits complain that this makes me inconsistent on the issues. Like that’s a bad thing. If I’m hard to pin down it’s because I’m consistently in favor of you, and you’re only human. But I want you to know you can rely on me anyway.

That’s why I’m not so sure we should celebrate the birthday today of famed opinion pollster George Gallup. Gallup was a decent enough fellow, I suppose, who thought prevailing public attitudes should be taken seriously in a democracy.

That’s good, I guess. But Gallup wanted to do scientific surveys to tabulate the opinions of large groups of people all at once, and I just want to deal with the notions of the person I’m talking to at the moment. That’s the way politics should be conducted, in my opinion – face to face. Whatever ridiculous thing you say, I’ll agree for as long as we’re together, no matter how pudding-headed it is.

When I go on to the next person, well, that’s a different matter.

So all this data telling us what vast numbers of people believe at any particular time is useless to me. Pollsters claim to be neutral, and nothing frustrates me more than neutrality, unless it’s fairness! The sad truth is, people’s responses can be guided by the way questions are asked, and outcomes can be determined by the selection of answers they’re allowed to give. You may think otherwise but we’re not standing next to each other right now, so I can afford to not pay any attention at all to what you think.

If I had my way, all public opinion polling would be illegal.

And so would fact-checking.

Your Congressman,
Loomis Beechly

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Coma Bear

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Today’s post comes from Bart, the bear who found a smartphone in the woods.

Bart Blackberry2

Yo, Bart here.

It’s getting colder and pretty soon it’ll be time to hibernate. Can’t wait. Turning the lights out and going dormant for a while is a great feeling – something certain people should do. I look at a lot of social media on my phone so I know what I’m talking about.

Facebook for example. Lots of stuff going on there. Blah blah blah all the time – there’s no end to it. Makes me think good thoughts about being comatose.

So while I’m waiting to fall asleep I follow the news. Pretty cool that the people at Snapchat turned down a 3 billion dollar offer from Facebook. Rumor is they might be able to get 4 billion from somebody in China for a company run by a handful of people that doesn’t make a profit. And the main thing Snapchat does it that it gives people a way to take pictures that are guaranteed not to last very long. They disappear after a few seconds so the photographers won’t be embarrassed later.

Three billion dollars for a money-losing company that produces things that are designed not to last.

I got me thinking (I have a lot of time to think now that Bear Season is over), and I came up with an even newer form of temporary social media that also doesn’t make money – it’s called “ComaChat”. If you sign up for “ComaChat”, you can send detailed personal messages to someone who is in a coma (me). I will not really see it, and will then immediately forget that it came in and that I didn’t even look at it. It’s a totally safe way to say something so private you don’t really want anyone to know, but you have to say it anyway.

No statement or confession is wrong on ComaChat. You’ll feel better for having gotten it off your chest, and there are no consequences. Unless what you have to say is “I left our fully stocked meat freezer unlocked in a clearing in the woods, and here are the coordinates.”

There might be some fall out from that one. Or should I say “pig out”?

Your pal,
Bart

Can you keep a secret?

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Ask Dr. Babooner

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Dear Dr. Babooner,

I am appalled … APPALLED! … that more stores are making the decision to open on Thanksgiving Day.

dr_babooner

The sad fact is – a covetous frenzy has already swallowed the formerly peaceful time between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Now now comes this terrible news that the disease has spread into Thanksgiving Day – the last major holiday we had that offered any shred of solemnity or respite from commercialism. Thanksgiving is a family day and it’s supposed to be spent WITH family, not in the company of depressed store clerks who were forced to leave THEIR families so they could put in a few hours earning the miserable pittance their chain-store masters pay them. What a travesty!

Having said that, I have to admit that I’d really love to get out of the house as soon as the meal is done.

I always spend the several days preceding T-Day as well as early Thanksgiving morning working like a woman possessed to get everything ready for the feast. I plan the meal, I cook the meal and I serve the meal. When it’s time to do the dishes, my (male, mostly) relatives sit back in the living room and groan and grouse like they’ve done something difficult by merely eating, while I and a few other females are left to clean up.

Getting an early jump on Christmas shopping and scoring some amazing deals is just the excuse I need to leave those slugs with the dirty dishes. And I have to admit it – going to the mall is a form of relaxation for me.

Dr. Babooner, I hate it that Christmas has invaded Thanksgiving. Would it be wrong to shop anyway?

Conflictedly,
Buyer’s Remorse in Advance.

I told BRIA that since she does all the necessary work to get the Thanksgiving meal on the table, she does not need an “excuse” to skip doing the dishes. The decision by several major retailers to open for business on Thanksgiving Day has put her in a terrible position. I told Bria she Must Not Shop on Thanksgiving Day, no matter how alluring the deals. But if a bargain materializes that is too good to pass up, she can send one of the groaning lugs from her living room with a fistful of cash. The chances are good that he hates shopping, and his loutish presence at the bargain bin mosh pit may cause the corporate gun-jumpers to reconsider their strategy.

And as an alternative, he might volunteer to clean up instead!

But that’s just one opinion. What do YOU think, Dr. Babooner?

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Messed-Up Mascots

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Today’s post comes from perennial sophomore Bubby Spamden at Wendell Wilkie High School.

Hey Mr. C.,

I think it’s really cool that 700 people marched to the Metrodome the other night to protest the name of the National Football League team from Washington, D.C. The Vikings must have been kind of disappointed to see such a big crowd coming, only to find out they weren’t actually interested in tickets.

Me and my buddies have promised never to use the name of that Washington team again! We’re going to call them “The Washington Awkwards” from now on, ’cause that’s how it feels when we see their logo and all their uncomfortable-looking merchandise and stuff.

I hope they pick a new mascot soon.

WendellWillkie_edited-1

It makes me think of the ordeal we went through at Wendell Wilkie High School with our team name, which was “The Contenders”, because Wilkie was the Republican nominee for president against Franklin Delano Roosevelt in 1940 and he almost won (NOT).

A lot of students don’t like “The Contenders” as a team name because it just sounds, you know, mediocre. I mean, there’s this feeling of trying your best, but kind of falling short. So the Young Republicans Club got on this kick to change the name to “The Nominees”, because that’s the contest that he actually won – in the Republican Party.

But then the Tea Party Republican Club found out that Wilkie was actually a Democrat before he was a Republican and became an emissary for FDR after losing to him, and wrote a book called “One World” and they felt so disappointed they started to push to change the name of the school to Ayn Rand High with a team called “The Objectivists.”

Just when that idea started to get some traction, the Students Hating All Military Madness In Every Sense (SHAMMIES) found out about Wilkie’s “One World” book and started to agitate for keeping Wilkie’s name on the school and calling the team “The Peacemakers.” But that idea got crushed pretty fast by the administration because (people say) Coach Gittum let them know he’d have nothing to do with it.

Then the Irony Club had to get into the act. They thought our team should be called “The Losers” because that’s what Wendell Wilkie is known for, after all. There were almost enough votes to get a resolution on that through the student council, but at the last minute a splinter group thought “The Failures” would be even more ironic, and they couldn’t keep their coalition together.

Finally a group of moderates in the Honorable Compromise Club pushed to change our team name to “The Statesmen,” which caught on with a lot of people as a less-bad option than all the other ones that were being discussed, and it passed the student council on a narrow, but statesman-like, vote.

But when it got to the Board of Education they threw out the whole idea because it would cost way too much to change all the school signage and letterhead and buy new athletic jerseys and stuff. So we’re still The Wilkie Contenders. Contenders who fell short of our goal! But they complimented us on our process and they hoped we learned something about democracy, which of course we did!

It sure burns up a lot of energy!

Your Pal,
Bubby

What was your Big Cause in High School?