An Evening in Minnesota

The rain had stopped. Earl and Gladys (Grandpa and Grandma) rounded us up after nightfall, provided each of us a tin can. There weren’t enough flashlights to go around, so we had to share those. The sky was still cloudy, blocking starlight and moonlight. In rural northwest Minnesota at night, with no light from the sky, it was dark. With a capital D.

 

Earl and Glady led the expedition to a mostly grassy area behind the cabin, surrounded by trees. The cabin was a modest structure just 50 feet from the shores of Lake Andrew. Indoor plumbing would have made it a bit less modest.

 

Mary-Beth was 13 in the summer of 1955. Linda was 8 and I turned 12 in July. When the flashlights were handed out, my sisters each got one but I didn’t. We were hunting nightcrawlers, as the big earthworms were colloquially known. As the name implies, they tend to come out of the ground at night and … well, crawl. Especially after a rain, E and G told us.

 

Hunched over, we use the flashlight to find those big worms, then grab with our grubby hands and drop them into the cans we carried. My sisters weren’t keen to share their flashlights with me, so my can didn’t fill as fast as theirs.

 

Once a beam of light fell on a nightcrawler, it couldn’t get back underground quickly enough, so picking them up was like shooting fish in a barrel, so to speak.

 

And speaking of fish, the whole reason for the expedition was to gather bait for the fish (bluegills, bullheads, bass, crappie, and others) that called Lake Andrew home. Fishing was a daily occupation/recreation for my grandparents, canceled only by inclement weather, and zero-cost bait was first-choice. They were frugal, either forced by cash flow or penny-pinching was ingrained during the “Great Depression,” which I found out later wasn’t all that great. 

 

Fishing had very few expenses attached. Gasoline for the outboard motor, that was about it. A 3-HP Evinrude motor didn’t burn a lot of gas, either. Maybe my grandparents bought fishing licenses, I don’t know. What I do know is that we never had to ask what’s for dinner – it was fried fish. Except for when it was smoked fish.

 

Earl cleaned the fish and Gladys fried them. Except for the ones that Earl smoked in his hand-built barrel over his hand-built fire. The process took hours, and the product was excuisite.

 

I knew nothing about biology when I was 12. Now I believe the reason nightcrawlers dig themselves out of the soil is that they are looking for love. When you think about it, down there in the dirt they never have opportunities to get it on. It’s all single-file in the dirt. So when the sun goes down, they go for a moonlight stroll, show off their slimy bodies, and hook up.

 

But we spoiled their little orgy party, grabbing them with our bare hands, rudely changing their life stories. They would later be pierced by a barbed hook and thrown in the water to attract fish. I imagine these worms hoped to be killed by fish jaws rather than drown. Worms have a healthy fear of death by drowning. I don’t know how I know that, but you can take it from me.

 

Nightcrawler death, though, would come later. For the moment, the big worms were in a tin can, slithering all over each other doing god knows what sort of erotic things.

 

Our little gang of worm hunters retreated to the cabin, used cold well water to rinse the dirt and worm juice from our hands, and settled in for the night.

 

Long Time Ago

I was assigned to Electronics Technician school in 1961 after Navy boot camp. The training was scheduled for 38 weeks, and each week covered some specific aspect of electronics – the state of the art in the early 1960s.

Somewhere in the middle of that training was a week on vacuum tubes, which were soon to be obsoleted by transistors. That week’s instructor was a Chief Petty Officer whose temperament was a bit hot at times. I would ask dumb questions and he would give terse answers. Once, a question from me caused him to throw the piece of chalk which lived in his right hand against the wall, pieces flying everywhere.

 

On Friday, I made the highest grade in the class on the vacuum tubes test. Chief Whatsisname was so pissed! 

 

I had to pass the weekly exam in order to advance to the next subject. Failing the exam meant re-taking the same subject next week, i.e. flunking. We called it getting your cherry broke. Mine never did get broken (insert your own joke here).

 

Sailors were issued 3 kinds of uniforms: Dress Blues, Dress Whites, and dungarees. In ET School we all wore dungarees. And a name badge. Instructors didn’t have to memorize student names, and they didn’t give 2 shits about first names – only last. My name badge probably said HYDE, GP (this was long before my name changed). The badge was part of my uniform.

 

Somewhere around Week 30 a few of us were sufficiently emboldened to personalize our name badges by drawing a red cherry prominently on the white badge. We all knew that unauthorized alteration of a Navy uniform was a punishable offense, but we did it and the powers that be (and there were many) let it slide. The cherry was a source of pride.

 

Some years later, I would step over the Navy’s behavior lines while thinking “What are they going to do – send me to Vietnam?” But that was later.

Common Sense

We have all heard someone say "Well that guy has no common sense."

OK, so what is common sense?

My mother, who has gone to meet her maker, and who would not ever be included in the Top Billion Wisest People list, had a saying, "[insert name here] doesn't have enough sense to come in out of the rain." 

I am not on that list either, but I long ago rejected my mother's definition and continued my search for a better one. Someone who did make the list suggested this definition:

Common Sense, defined: Practical and generally applicable problem solving skills derived from a broad base of real-world knowledge and critical thinking skills.

Adopting the definition above seems reasonable to me. Until and unless someone can show me a better one.

Not that it means anything, but sometimes I don't come in out of the rain.

Coincidence?

Michelangelo died in 1564. That same year, William Shakespeare was born.

What if Michelangelo was reincarnated as Shakespeare? That would make sense, given the creativity embodied in each of those dudes.

Or it could be coincidence. But I doubt it. History just doesn't work that way.

I should know - I have a high school diploma.

For One Minority, a Bias That's Just So Not Right

This is not my musing.

Breaking my custom, I present Bill O'Brian's editorial from the Washington Post, Aug 13, 2006:

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Thirty years ago today, a movement was born: Aug. 13 was declared International Left-Handers Day.

As a rights campaign for lefties -- surely America's only remaining uncoddled interest group -- it has been an anemic crusade at best. The date was selected because it was not yet a holiday and happened to be Friday the 13th in 1976. The organization that started the movement is defunct. For whatever reason, the 10 percent of us who are left-handed have not taken up the mantle. The 90 percent of you who are right-handed have remained cruelly oblivious to the plight of your oppressed brothers and sisters.

Rampant cultural biases have imbued us with the notion that left equals bad. The English word "sinister," for example, is derived from the Latin for "left-hand side." In French, gauche means left and, of course, awkward, clumsy and socially unrefined. Being out in left field is not good, and neither is having two left feet. Left-handedness has long been associated with Satanic influences and witchcraft. In the Bible, the blessed are always sitting at the right hand of God, never the left.

Then there are the practical biases, a regular source of inconvenience, frustration and, sometimes, peril to left-handers. Try opening a can of tuna with a manual can opener using your left hand -- your arms will be crossed, and you're likely to cut yourself on the lid. Try using a grapefruit knife with your left hand -- the blade's contour and serration will be backward until you adjust. Hold a measuring cup with your left hand -- the non-metric fractional amounts will be facing unhelpfully away from you.

Think: circular saws, drill presses, chain saws, surgical instruments, firearms and holsters. All designed primarily for righties.

Toilet paper dispensers are virtually always on the right, as are the handles on most water fountains. The important controls, including the stick shift, in most cars outside the British Isles, India and Japan can be reached easily only with the right hand. Computer keyboards are made for righties -- even though Bill Gates is  left-handed. Crossword puzzles are designed so that the clues are easily accessible to righties. Lefties have to lift their writing hand and reorient themselves each time they fill in an answer. Go to today's Magazine and try it for yourself. And they say The Washington Post is "left-leaning." I don't think so.

Classrooms can be truly exasperating for lefties, what with those arm-contorting, wrist-wrenching desks, three-ring binders and spiral notebooks built for right-handed writers. Sports equipment for a lefty -- especially a baseball catcher's mitt -- is often hard to find.

So, to left-handers across this great nation, I say: Don't be left out. Your fate is in your (left) hands. Assert your rights. Stop adapting to the hardships foisted upon you!

To the right-handed majority, I say: Feel our pain. Recognize that your handism can be ugly. We lefties are not asking for a handout, just for some respect and a helping hand.

In the meantime, let us take a moment to celebrate a select few men and women, who -- according to news accounts, published biographies and lists compiled by researchers -- are generally believed to be left-handed.

· Musicians Eminem, 50 Cent, Kurt Cobain, Paul McCartney, Wynton Marsalis, Paul Simon (yes, he plays guitar right-handed) and Jimi Hendrix (who, from age 12, played re-strung right-handed guitars upside down).

· Actors and entertainers Oprah Winfrey, Jay Leno, Jon Stewart, Whoopi Goldberg, Ben Stiller, Jerry Seinfeld, Matt Groening (and Bart Simpson), Diane Keaton, Julia Roberts, Robert De Niro, Keanu Reeves, Sarah Jessica Parker, Lisa Kudrow, Angelina Jolie, Robert Redford, Goldie Hawn, Morgan Freeman, Nicole Kidman, Tom Cruise, and, especially, W.C. Fields, who said, "If the left side of your brain controls the right side of your body, and the right side of your brain controls the left side of your body, then left-handed people must be the only ones in their right minds."

· Artists and innovators Henry Ford, Ben Franklin, Isaac Newton, M.C. Escher, Michelangelo, Raphael and Leonardo da Vinci.

· Queen Victoria, Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother, Queen Elizabeth II, Prince Charles, Prince William and the United Kingdom as a whole for being so automotively correct.

· Presidents James Garfield, Herbert Hoover, Harry Truman, Gerald Ford, Ronald Reagan, George H.W. Bush and Bill Clinton. With a particular nod to Bush, Clinton and Ross Perot, who made the 1992 election campaign all lefty, all the time.

Of course we lefties must acknowledge that some of our own have been seriously bad actors, including the lefty of all leftists, Fidel Castro, who, like me, was born on Aug. 13, International Left-Handers Day.

We may detest the iron-fisted manner in which Castro has maintained dictatorial control over the Cuban people since 1959. But, as a fellow left-hander, I'm willing to say: Happy 80th birthday, comrade. Long live the (anatomical) left.

What If...

Joe Biden took office at the age of 78. He did the math. He’d be 82 at the end of his first term, 86 at the end of his second. He decided that winning a 2^nd term at 82 would be a long shot, and he set his sights on being the best president he could be – for one term. But he knew that a public recognition of his being a one-term president came with risks, so he kept that to himself. He acted as though he would run for another term, and planned an exit from the race late in the game. Joe continued to be a confident world leader, but he faltered spectacularly in the election campaign.

On purpose. He allowed his party to push him, kicking and screaming, aside. He ushered in a younger, harder-to-beat candidate.

 

Too far-fetched? Maybe. But maybe not. We have to acknowledge Joe Biden’s long history of political strategy. If that was Joe’s plan from the get-go in 2021, it was executed brilliantly.

Extremism

Our subdivision has one way in, one way out. Out is Des Peres Road, and you can go left or right, but left is most common. Construction has started on a new roundabout to the left, so I was prepared to use caution going that way. Caution meaning extra diligence, going a bit slower, looking around more, things like that.

 

USE EXTRA CAUTION blared the sign. I could see right away that caution was not good enough – EXTRA CAUTION was going to be required.

 

I was mentally and physically prepared to use caution, but EXTRA CAUTION caught me inadequately prepared.

 

Make a U-turn and get geared up for EXTRA CAUTION, I thought.

 

I’ve arrived back home safely, and locked all the doors and windows. Shades pulled, lights off, cell phone on Silent. Looking. Listening. So far, no threats have presented themselves. 

 

If this cocoon I’m in lasts another few hours, it will be dark outside and I’ll go back out using EXTRA CAUTION. At least that’s the current plan. I’ll become an extremist.