Gregory of the North: “With the recent discussions of class trips, I’ve been wanting to send you this recollection — but I hesitated, as it wasn’t so much a class trip as a mission trip.
“It was 1968, and those of us living and hanging out in Luther Hall on the University of Minnesota’s Twin Cities campus decided it would be a good thing for us to go to Chicago and learn about the Civil Rights movement. So arrangements were made, and buses contracted, and soon we were off to Chicago’s South Side.
Continue reading “Join this ‘stupid [but well-meaning!] white boy’ on a midnight tour of Chicago’s South Side . . .”
Now & Then
The Gram With a Thousand Rules writes: “I thought about going low-profile on this, but then I decided I would be remiss if I didn’t share this lesson I learned: If you wake up one morning and find that one of your hands isn’t working, don’t ignore it and think it will get better by itself.
“If it hangs there like a limp fish dangling from your wrist, don’t be an ostrich like I was and blame it on a pinched nerve. My brain told me it was more than that, but I clung to the belief that it could be a pinched nerve, and that if I went out and finished raking out the flower beds with my other hand, it would get better.
Continue reading “If your brain tells you something’s amiss, don’t bury it in the sand. Get thee to Urgent Care!”
Plus: In memoriam
DebK of Rosemount: (1) “My nephew Sam is about to graduate from his San Francisco public middle school. In what has apparently become a new rite of passage, the entire eighth-grade class will be treated, at (mostly) taxpayer expense, to a class trip which begins with jetting to Washington, D.C. After four days spent taking in the wonders of our nation’s capital, the entire bunch — kids and chaperones — will fly on to New York City for further educational and cultural improvement, there apparently being nothing of worth to experience in the Bay Area or elsewhere on the West Coast.
Continue reading “How eighth-grade “grads” are escorted into the Jet Set!”
The Permanent Fatherly/Sonly Record
The Astronomer of Nininger: “Subject: Old Guys Rule.
“Sometimes young guys try to show their fathers they can do things better. One occasion that backfired [Bulletin Board interjects: Pun intended?] was at a new shooting range that opened in the Twin Cities.
Continue reading “Old Guy meets son’s challenge: The eyes have it, still!”
Gee, our old La Salle ran . . . smoky!
Tim Torkildson: “Subject: Memories of the Drive-in Movie.
“As a child of the 1950s, as well as of deep-freeze winters in Minnesota, the coming of summer meant drive-in movies. I write this not as a piece of fond nostalgia, but as further proof of children’s second-class status back in those Bad Old Days.
Continue reading “For this young boy, a night at the Vali-Hi Drive-In left a lot to be desired!”
The Permanent Family Record
The Gram With a Thousand Rules writes: “The ice is out on Lake Minnetonka. That means the barge is out distributing the buoys to mark the channels that connect the 41 bays of Lake Minnetonka. I wonder if this draws as much attention from the lake dwellers today as it did to us when we lived in our little cottage during the mid-’50s.
Continue reading “The arrival of the Minnetonka barges was a banner day for every b(u)oy and girl!”
The Permanent Family Record
The Gram With a Thousand Rules: “On Easter afternoon in 1970, we took a posed photo of our two youngest kids looking like sweet little cherubs . . .
Continue reading “Did the kids’ competitions take a break on Easter? Not a chance!”