Dept. of Neat Stuff
The Best State Fair in Our State Division
Gregory J. of Dayton’s Bluff reports: “I attended my first Minnesota State Fair in 1958 and have been hooked ever since.
“At some point, I realized I wanted to be a participant and enter something to be exhibited at the Fair and possibly win a bona fide State Fair ribbon.
“It was a long journey. I finally got around to doing it in 2010.
“One major stumbling block was figuring out what to exhibit. It was fairly easy to eliminate such things as cows, pigs, chickens, giant vegetables, and anything that requires artistic ability, baking skills or handiwork of any kind. However, I do collect stuff — but there is no category for Neat Stuff as such. Creative Activities does have a postcard-collection category, and I also collect postcards, beginning with, you guessed it, Dayton’s Bluff postcards and others related to Saint Paul.
“So in 2010 I put together a postcard frame titled ‘A Century Ago in Dayton’s Bluff.’ Following all the rules, I assembled a frame containing 20 100-year-old postcards and added descriptions of what happened to the buildings pictured on them.
“It was nothing fancy. I delivered it at the proper time and place and waited to see if it would at least get displayed and maybe even win some sort of ribbon. To my amazement, I won a blue (First Premium) ribbon in my category and the overall purple (Sweepstakes) ribbon, plus a plaque from the Twin City Postcard Club.
“This was great, but also presented a dilemma. I had climbed my Mount Everest, so to speak, and figured I could never do that again. Spoiler alert: I was wrong. So besides a lack of incentive, life got very busy and that was the end of my quest for ribbons . . . at least for a while.
“In 2015 I finally decided to try again and entered a postcard frame titled ‘Mounds Park Sanitarium’ which was a hospital located near Mounds Park in Dayton’s Bluff.
“It won a blue ribbon.
“In 2016 my entry was titled ‘1938 St. Paul Winter Carnival Ice Palace.’ That Ice Palace was built in Dayton’s Bluff and is rarely remembered. Even its exact location is often misplaced.
“This postcard frame also won a blue ribbon.
“I was on a roll . . . but as we know, ‘pride goeth before the fall.’ In 2017 I slapped together a collection titled ‘Canoeing at Lake Phalen.’ It got displayed but didn’t win a ribbon.
“My 2018 entry, ‘St. Paul and the Mississippi River,’ fared slightly better and won a white (Second Premium) ribbon.
“It was time for a change in strategy, so in 2019 my entry was ‘Leather Postcards.’ Before the days of machine processing of mail, postcards were made out of a variety of materials, including real deerskin. Even though there were some St. Paul postcards included, there were other ones, too.
“It won a blue ribbon.
“Of course 2020 was the year without a State Fair or much of anything else, so in 2021 I put together two postcard frames. One was titled ‘The Dolls of Edna Knowles King.’ She was a local woman/socialite who collected dolls, thousands of dolls, in the 1930s. She wrote a book about them and, with her husband acting as photographer, published many postcards.
“This frame was awarded a blue ribbon and the Sweepstakes ribbon, plus a plaque, and was displayed on an easel in a special location. Lightning had struck twice.
“Edna Knowles King also built a dollhouse for many of her dolls, but it wasn’t something that sat on a tabletop. It was large enough for people to walk through, measuring 10 feet wide by 24 feet long by 6 feet high and weighing 3,000n pounds. The dollhouse was exhibited around the country and at our State Fair from 1947 through 1956. It became known as ‘The Lux Memory Doll House,’ which was the title of my second 2021 entry.
“It won a red (Second Premium) ribbon.
“Finally, in 2022, I put together a collection of postcards titled ‘City Souvenir Postcards,’ which were generic postcards that were customized for different cities — in this case, Saint Paul.
“It won a blue ribbon.
“So what about 2023? Stop into the Creative Activities building — and if all goes well, there might be a postcard frame titled ‘Whither Minnehaha Falls?’ that is surprisingly about St. Paul.”
They’re out there!
Carp Lips of Wyoming: “Subject: What Was He Thinking?
“Nothing, apparently, as his brain was not operating at the time!
“The man/child (20 years old?) was on a crotch rocket Tuesday, August 1, at 3:30 p.m. I was on 35W in Mounds View in the car-pool lane, going 7 mph above the speed limit (mea culpa). He came screaming up behind me (20 mph over the speed limit?) and beeped his horn at me because I had the nerve to drive in HIS lane. I’m not sure where he wanted me to go, as there was a double white line that I was not supposed to cross. He likewise decided not to cross it, but instead stupidly decided to go between me and the divider. Where’s the highway patrol when you need them? If you were trying to get a ticket . . . keep trying.
“The (crotch) rocket scientist then quickly moved in front of me and then tapped his brakes. Boy! You really showed me. I’ll certainly remember to move over whenever I see you again on the road. It does, obviously, belong to you. But if you were trying to become a hood ornament . . . keep trying.
“Einstein then remembered that he had to exit the freeway, and quickly zoomed two lanes over and barely made the exit ramp. Hope you got to your important obligation on time.
“One last comment. They say that people who ride motorcycles like you are called Organ Donors. If that was your objective . . . keep trying. We’ll be rooting for you!”
In memoriam
Or: A little song, a little dance, a little seltzer down your pants!
The Gram With a Thousand Rules reports: ‘We had a delayed Celebration of Life for my husband last month, and it was everything he would have wanted it to be. The hall was filled with more than 100 relatives who had traveled from all parts of this globe, a hearty dinner and laughter. So much laughter. Three of our children took turns at the microphone giving him a ‘roast,’ and he would have laughed louder than anyone there. This was no time for tears.
“He had died once already, in 1990, and then there were tears. It was eight long minutes before he was brought back to life just before his 62nd birthday — and after many heart operations, he lived on to the ripe old age of 94 years, 5 months and 13 days. We couldn’t have asked for more.”
Our pets, ourselves
SIS writes: “In 1933, Mother and Dad took a trip to the Chicago World’s Fair. My younger brother and sister and I stayed with an aunt. Mother and Dad promised us special presents if we were good while they were away.
“We were good — and true to their word, Mother and Dad returned with three little boxes.
“My father handed the first box to me, the eldest. When I held the box, I could feel something bouncing around inside. Whatever was in that box was alive.
“Dad nodded, and we ripped off the lids. There in my box on a bed of cotton batting was a little green turtle.
“The turtles looked identical, but there was no danger of a mix-up. Each turtle shell sported one of our names in red painted letters.
We put our turtles on the floor.
“’Be gentle with them,’ advised Mother. ‘Look after them as you do your other pets.’
“The other pets were three rambunctious kittens, hovering now in the shadow, staring at this trio of odd-looking strangers invading their domain.
“’Take them to the sunroom,’ Mother continued, ‘and close the door until the cats get used to them.’
“Our cats were Squeaky, Tarzan, and Lady Clare. Squeaky was a black-and-white kitten with a high-pitched meow and a consuming curiosity. Tarzan was a gray-striped tabby who loved to swing on curtains and wrestle with his brother. In contrast to her roughhousing brothers, Lady Clare was an elegant all-black female. She ruled the household.
“We went to school nearby and so were able to come home for lunch and play with the turtles every day — to the cats’ chagrin.
“Sometimes at noon, my brother would take his hockey stick, the turtles, and Squeaky and Tarzan down to the basement to practice shooting a tennis ball into a laundry basket.
“The cats loved hockey practice. Together, they chased the ball around the washing machine, laundry tubs, jacket heater, and into the laundry basket while the turtles looked on, mystified.
“One noon hour, my brother left the basement and forgot to return the turtles to the sunroom. They were alone in the basement . . . with the cats.
“Mother went down later to find each little turtle safely tucked inside its shell as the cats batted and poked at them — playing their own game of hockey.
“We were all more careful after that, but one day the turtles disappeared from the sunroom. I always suspected that Lady Clare, her dominance challenged, had somehow managed to open the sunroom door and nudge the turtles out into the garden.
“Who can say?”
Badvertising
Including: Not exactly what (if anything) they had in mind
Today’s trio of nominations come from Snackmeisterin of Altoona, Wisconsin: “(1) A Miller beer commercial that airs WAY too frequently during baseball games: ‘Corner booths [people sitting in a bar], sticky floors [dancing], catching breaks [playing pool] and second winds [more dancing] — you never forget the way some things taste. Tastes like Miller time.’ I’m not much of a beer drinker, especially if it tastes like a sticky bar floor!
“(2) U.S. Cellular uses an oldie-but-goodie song, ‘Slip Away’ by Clarence Carter, in their ads promoting family time. If the marketing department had listened to the entire song, they might realize it’s about a man asking a woman to ‘slip away . . . [to] meet . . . somewhere where we both are not known’ and is definitely NOT a family-oriented song!
“(3) The one that makes me lunge for the remote because of being just too frequent and annoying is ‘Liberty, Liberty, Liberty — Liberty.’ ARRGGGHHH!”
Then & Now
Or: The Permanent Grandmotherly/Grandsonly Record
DeAnne Cherry of Woodbury: “Subject: Our Hometown Hero.
“What a fun night last Saturday, when we celebrated Joe Mauer’s induction into the Twins Hall of Fame. It is wonderful to have a hometown hero to remember. Joe has been a person who has brought greatness to our Twins baseball games. I have attended many of his games over the years.
“When my grandson Skylar Van Guilder was 7 years old, I brought him to his first Twins games. See picture below:
“My grandson is 19 years old now, and he is my Baseball Buddy. We attend many games each year together, and the best one was Saturday night. Not only was it Joe Mauer Day, but also the Twins played a great game and won 12-1. What a wonderful night to remember.
“Thanks, Joe, and thanks, Twins.”
Joy of Juxtaposition
Plus: The kindness of strangers
Stinky Bananalips of Empire reports: “Subject: Stranger danger sweet corn.
“First, a little background: We had to put our dog to sleep this past April. My husband, Pinky, is going to get a new dog this fall; he just hasn’t yet.
“On Sunday, Pinky and I finally set up our hammock-swing-chair things under the deck and were trying them out (5 out of 5 stars, we recommend). Then he starts to tell me a story about the walk he had just come home from:
“‘I took the dog route . . .’ — I thought: Uh-oh, going to be a sad story — ‘. . . and was thinking about different random things. One being we haven’t had sweet corn in a long time. I gotta pick some up. When a couple minutes later, a car pulls up. “Dude, hey dude! When’s the last time you had really good sweet corn?” “I don’t know. It’s been awhile.” “I got some here if you want it.” Starts reaching in a paper bag. “Where’s it from?” “My farm over here. It’s the best sweet corn.” Hands over three ears of corn. “Thanks!” “You’ll be back!” and the guy drove away.’
“We called our daughter in Nebraska. She said it sounded like Stranger Danger.
“After dinner, I texted her that the stranger danger sweet corn was pretty good.
She replied: ‘You say that now. Give me 48 hours, and then I’ll believe ya.’
“It hasn’t quite been 24 hours yet, but we’re feeling fine so far.”
Dept. of Neat Stuff (responsorial)
Realtor Doug, “formerly of Roseville and now residing in Fort Myers”: “Subject: Opera glasses.
“Not to undermine your opera-glass stories, but these are the authentic opera glasses!”
The Permanent Historical Record
Kathy S. of St. Paul: “Subject: Connections.
“As members of the Greatest Generation pass away, their stories must now be preserved by younger generations, such as their children. One of my cousins was recently interviewed about her childhood — partly spent growing up near the Oak Ridge, Tennessee, site of the Manhattan Project during World War II.
“My parents were college students during much of the war, though Dad left college early, to work on nerve gas at the University of Chicago. He once met a fellow student at a party there. After the war, he discovered that that student had disappeared to join the Manhattan Project.
“Which would be the closest connection my parents had to Robert Oppenheimer and atom bombs, except that Dad ended up drafted into the Navy after he finished college. In 1946 he was scheduled to go out on a ship to watch the detonation of atomic bomb(s) in the Bikini Atoll. Luckily for him — and his descendants — Americans demanded that their family members be sent back from the war. So Dad came home to find a job and father more Baby Boomers in Minnesota. Yay!”
The gifts that keep on giving
The Doryman of Prescott, Wisconsin: “Subject: The gift that keeps on giving.
“I just finished a quickie back scratch this morning. A woodworker friend gifted me the back scratcher 40 years ago. (He’d made it from scratch.) Long gone, he’d be proud to know it hangs on a doorknob in our den and has been used at least weekly since 1983.
“Granny Min got me started on back scratches as a 3-year-old when I visited her and Grandpa on the Iowa farm. In those days, I insisted on wearing socks to bed. TMI, you think? Well, you had to be there . . . and here.”
Then & Now
Auntie PJ of Inver Grove Heights: “Every year when the first week of August rolls around, I start to reminisce about an event on August 4, 1967, that brought thousands of young teen girls, myself included, to the St. Paul Auditorium. The Monkees concert!
“The Monkees started out as actors hired to play a band on a TV show called, of course, ‘The Monkees.’ But as their popularity grew, the group of four actors — Davy Jones, Micky Dolenz, Peter Tork and Mike Nesmith — already musicians and/or singers on their own, became a solid rock band and had many hit records. Hence, a concert tour.
“The day of the concert, we learned the group was staying at the Capp Towers Hotel (now gone), and my dad drove me and my friends there so we could stand outside and scream each time the group came to the windows and waved at us. Exciting!
“At one point, limos started driving up to the hotel door to take tour personnel to the auditorium. We figured we’d better start walking over to the venue and get into our seats in the fifth row.
“I remember what I was wearing: a tan pant outfit. (Funny, since I have no clue what I wore to the Beatles concert two years earlier. I should call Paul McCartney and ask him if he remembers!)
“The concert was groovy, as we said then. The group played all their hit songs, and Davy Jones, my fave, sang beautiful love songs . . . and I swear he was looking directly at me.
“Many years later, I met a new friend named Deb. Son of a gun, she was also at that concert — and in the second row. Wow! She, too, remembers what she was wearing: a blue outfit and Yardley blue nail polish. Deb and I have had many fun conversations about that evening, though she swears Davy was singing directly to her – imagine that!
“Sadly, three members of the group — Davy Jones, Peter Tork (who attended Carleton College in Northfield for a while) and Mike Nesmith — have all passed, leaving only one Monkee still with us, Micky Dolenz. Still, thank you to all four of you for making August 4, 1967, one of the best evenings ever!”
The sign on the road to the cemetery said “Dead End”
Bill of the river lake reports: “We’ve been traveling on our annual RV vacation, taking several Interstate freeways down to Nashville. Some of the roads are very uncomfortable to drive on, especially portions of I-39 between Rockford and Bloomington/Normal, Illinois, and lengths of I-90 by the Wisconsin Dells.
“These multiple bumps are magnified when pulling an RV. Shake, rattle & roll.
“It seems that sometimes when the highway-maintenance crews do a repair across the freeway, they create ‘speed bumps’ rather than smooth surfaces.
“On I-39 in Illinois we noticed a single sign saying in bold letters: BUMP. How ironic.
“Now, think of the state money allocated if they placed a BUMP sign by each ‘speed bump.’”
BULLETIN BOARD SAYS: Illinois has problems enough with its pension obligations.
Keeping your eyes open
Plus: A joke for today
Dennis from Eagan: “Subject: Pearly Gates look heavenly at night.
“The city of St. Peter’s iconic Pearly Gates (at the Minnesota River bridge near highways 169 & 99) are easier to find after sunset when it’s lit up.
“A joke about Paradise’s entry that I heard once was about a local pastor and a bus driver dying on the same day. The priest was told to sit in the waiting room while his good-work records were verified. Suddenly, the driver was then wheeled through the gates on a hospital gurney, as if he were going to emergency surgery. The pastor asked St. Peter why the driver got into heaven before a lifetime priest would. St. Peter replied: ‘When you preached, the congregation slept . . . and when he drove, the passengers PRAYED!'”
See world
Another close encounter of the natural kind, reported by Wayne Nelson of Forest Lake: “I was taking a few pictures of a flowered plant in our back yard using a 400-mm lens when a little visitor stopped by for a short visit and then departed just as quick as it had come.”
Then & Now
LeoJEOSP writes: “Subject: My Uncle Edward!
“In 1960, when I was 5, my family was visiting my great-grandmother. I asked her about the old radio in front of us. Radios came in many sizes, but the Zenith Cabinet radio was a piece of furniture, made in 1946. It had AM and a record player built in — a very buggy record player made for playing 78-rpm discs.
“I now own this 1946 Zenith. The record player was thrown out and replaced with a CD player.
“On my 50th birthday, Uncle Edward and I were in front of the radio. He said he remembered how Aunt Mary Jean taught my dad how to dance while listening to a similar giant radio. He even remembered one of the songs: ‘Paper Doll,’ by the Mills Brothers. I think of them, back in the 1940s, and get a warm and fuzzy attack of the goosebumps.
“I remember telling Uncle Edward that it took a minute to warm up the tubes. He very kindly told me that he grew up with that type of radio. I felt like Captain Obvious, but Edward said: ‘Just enjoy the memories.'”
In memoriam
Plus: The darnedest (or “darndest”) things
Peppermint Patty of Mankato: “How quickly time marches on. It’s going on nine years now since Handsome Farmer Husband died. I am remembering the short time that we shared together. (I know, I know, I posted this several years ago — but I feel the strong need to share it again.) In the very last scene, in the very last episode of ‘Newhart,’ Bob and his wife (played by Suzanne Pleshette) from his previous show, ‘The Bob Newhart Show,’ awaken in the morning, in bed, and Bob states: ‘I had the craziest dream.’ That moment encapsulates our short but sweet time together.
[BULLETIN BOARD INTERJECTS: Warning! Cute kid story ahead!]
“I am a longtime ‘survivor’ of the profession now known as a Guest Teacher (previously labeled as a Substitute Teacher). I must share this one situation that I recently experienced with a student. I was sitting by a fourth-grader, assisting with an assignment, when I started to remove my sweater. As I removed my arm from one of the sleeves, the student, looking at my arm, stated: ‘Are you a grandma?!’ Need I say more? It appeared that my upper arm had spoken for me.
“As Art Linkletter used to say: ‘Kids say the darndest things.'”
BULLETIN BOARD SAYS: Indeed, he did. And that, unaccountably, is how he spelled it.
Band Name of the Day: The Hockey Cats
Website of the Day:
Bulletin Board 