Our times
Wayne Nelson of Forest Lake writes: “I don’t know if you could/would publish this or not, but I will send it to you anyway.”
BULLETIN BOARD SAYS: Yah, sure, yew betcha we could/would publish it!
THE LATEST AIR SERVICE IN MINNESOTA:
Then & Later
The Gram With a Thousand Rules: “The year was 1952. Local phone numbers had only two digits, and the operator connected you to your party. Television was beginning to make an impact on theater attendance, but our local theater offered three movie selections each week and was still doing a pretty good business.
“Among my clutter of saved treasures, I found this movie schedule from Mound Theatre.
“I see that in a couple of those god-awful movies, the actors were a future brother-in-law of a future Democratic president and a future Republican president of the United States. I remember thinking Peter Lawford was handsome, but Ronald Reagan seemed like an old guy to me. It would have been inconceivable to think that a movie star would ever end up being a president.
“I was earning a whopping $35 a week writing commercials for a small Minneapolis radio station, so I could easily afford the 15-cent bus fare, the 25-cent movie ticket, a small box of Milk Duds and a nickel cup of coffee in the bus depot before boarding the Greyhound for the three-mile ride back home.
“My sister and I didn’t go to EVERY movie shown on this schedule, but if neither of us had a date or something better to do, we would hop on that bus and ‘go to the movies.’ It didn’t matter if the movies were usually unmitigated drivel; we paid our quarter, ate our Milk Duds and made Hollywood happy.”
Why I Write
The Doryman of Prescott, Wisconsin: “Subject: Why I (need to) write.
“In my college freshman English class, we were required to keep a daily journal for the quarter. We turned it in every Friday and got it back, with a grade, on Monday.
“I was not used to getting many A’s in those days, but, to my surprise, I provoked quite a few from that professor.
“When I arrived early the day of final exams, he and another of my teachers teased me about what a goofball I was. I’ve never forgotten what Professor Bisbee said to my other antagonist in parting: ‘Well, he can write.’ That glib, short sentence of encouragement 54 years ago was a proclamation of sorely needed worthiness. It launched my lasting refuge — the happy place where I reunite with memories, glorify opinions and display my honest self in hopes that you will like me.”
The bumper crop
Red’s Offspring, north of St. Paul: “The bumper sticker on the car in the parking lot of the nursing home in New Brighton left no room for doubt:
“MEAN PEOPLE
“‘SUCK'”
See (and smell, and hear) world
Al B of Hartland writes: “I cranked open a window of the house and inhaled the joy of the day.
“Chorus frogs called, sounding like thumbnails being run down the teeth of a comb. Chickadees made their chick-a-dee-dee calls. Research has found that the number of dee-dee-dees that a chickadee gives is an indication of its level of concern in response to a perceived threat. A few dees, and the bird is not overly concerned. A longer string of dees is an alarm for other species that a predator is near.
“The day was as soft as sunshine when an eastern phoebe returned to my yard during the first week of April. As it perched on a tree branch, ready to hawk insects, it wagged its tail.
“As the phoebe demonstrated the amazing art of flycatching, robins, down-to-earth birds, looked for worms. They may look like they are listening, but they are watching for worms. It wasn’t just the early birds who were hunting. The late birds searched for food, too.
“A kestrel perched on a utility wire near the road. Kestrels eat mostly large insects, but eat a lot of mice and voles, too. American kestrel populations in the U.S. have dropped by nearly half over the last 45 years.
“In ‘White Room’ by Cream, the lyrics say: ‘In the white room with black curtains near the station. Black roof country, no gold pavements, tired starlings. Silver horses ran down moonbeams in your dark eyes. Dawn light smiles on you leaving, my contentment.’ Starlings flew in and mounted an attack upon the suet. The suet disappeared quickly under the assault of the beaks of starlings, starlings far more ravenous than tired.
“If you want to see the world, look out a window.”
See world
Photography Division (responsorial)
In Monday’s Bulletin Board, Mounds View Swede didn’t know what sort of tree produced these beautiful blossoms:
We presently heard from Mrs. Patches of St. Paul: “Subject: What kind of flowering tree?
“I thought the pretty blossoms might be dogwood, so I looked it up on . . . Google! Yes, dogwood. And an interesting legend about why the red spots are on the petals. https://www.gotquestions.org/legend-dogwood.html“:
“Question: ‘What is the legend of the dogwood tree? Was the cross Jesus was crucified on made of dogwood?’
“Answer: The Bible does not tell us what type of wood the cross Jesus was crucified on was made of. Roman history does not go into specifics as to how the crosses were made or what type of wood was used. There is a legend that the cross was made of dogwood. This is unlikely considering the typical size of a dogwood tree. The legend of the dogwood tree, author unknown, is as follows:
“In Jesus’ time, the dogwood grew
“To a stately size and a lovely hue.
” ‘Twas strong and firm, its branches interwoven.
“For the cross of Christ its timbers were chosen.
“Seeing the distress at this use of their wood
“Christ made a promise which still holds good:
” ‘Never again shall the dogwood grow
” ‘Large enough to be used so.
” ‘Slender and twisted, it shall be
” ‘With blossoms like the cross for all to see.
” ‘As blood stains the petals marked in brown,
” ‘The blossom’s center wears a thorny crown.
” ‘All who see it will remember Me
” ‘Crucified on a cross from the dogwood tree.
” ‘Cherished and protected, this tree shall be
” ‘A reminder to all of My agony.’
“Again, this is just a legend. It is a nice poem, but there is no biblical basis to it.”
Niche? Sheesh!
Poet X of PDX: “Subject: Stop doing that correctly!
“I’m so accustomed to hearing people mispronounce ‘niche’ (to rhyme with ‘itch’) that it is bothersome to hear an often-played commercial during Mariners games in which the voice-over says it correctly (‘neesh’).
“Stop doing that!”
The Permanent Family Record
Hudson Grandmama reports: “The traditional Easter egg hunt for our family has worked pretty much the same way for well over 40 years. The little Hunters are gathered someplace where they can’t see the Hiders scurrying around the yard dropping candy and eggs.
“When we have Easter dinner at my sister’s house in Andover, the Hunters gather in the garage with their baskets and eagerly wait for the garage door to go up — the signal that the Hiders have finished and the hunt can begin.
“Our four grandsons, ages 11 to 17, have now all graduated from Hunters to Hiders. Yesterday I was helping them open bags of candy when one of them said: ‘Let’s not hide any of this. Let’s just make a big pile in front of the garage door.’ Keeping it simple? Saving some time? We all had a good laugh, and then out they went to keep the family tradition alive for another year.”
Band Name of the Day: Atomic City
Website of the Day: Harmon Killebrew’s appearances on “Home Run Derby”
Bulletin Board 