Adventures in rail-roading

I’ve pretty much worked out the logic behind converting my commute to a Park & Ride/LRT combo (see last week’s post). Unfortunately, I can’t get out of my parking contract until the end of July, even if average global temperatures jump 10 degrees. I decided, however, that before I jump through that flaming bureaucratic hoop I better make sure I’m committed.

Now I have a pretty good imagination, and I’m far from inexperienced when it comes to using public transportation on a regular basis. The fact is, however, that I haven’t used the bus for years. The possibility remains that there might be some noxious experiences on the LRT that I haven’t imagined or anticipated that might make the overall cost savings seem ultimately insignificant. Hence, I decided to take the LRT every day this week to further field test my new plan before giving notice of canceling my parking at the end of the month.

This morning: everything was fine and dandy. A beautiful, soft morning in June.

This evening: There were plenty of seats to choose from when I boarded at the Nicollet Mall stop. I chose one of the somewhat elevated seats and proceeded to dig out my newspaper from my briefcase. Two tattooed teenage girls got on and sat in the seats diagonally behind me. One had some music device that was playing hip-hop loudly enough to be heard by everyone in the car. I thought the current fashion in music devices was to wall yourself off in a socially autistic manner inside your iPod earbuds. This was definitely audible, however. Perhaps it was indeed an iPod, but cranked so loud it could be heard outside the ‘buds. She may have turned it up so she could hear it over the volume of the conversation she was having with her friend. It was not a comely conversation. Everyone else, however, seemed to be pretty much ignoring it, so I tried to create my urban shell around myself and do the same. I had a strong hunch these young ladies were on their way to the Mall of America which, unfortunately, was past my stop. As it turns out, my stop was indeed before theirs.

As I got out up to disembark it crossed my mind to say something mean to our would-be entertainers. Based on their grammar, their language, and the nature of what they were listening to, however, I decided their lives were already going to be hard enough without me piling on.

I can’t wait to see (or hear) what tomorrow’s commute bring.

Some things I just don’t understand

[Closed circuit to the Reverend Mother: this is one you’re not going to want to read.]

This is a pretty grim topic, but I saw a stunning story on CNN today about a man who beat a toddler to death as onlookers tried unsuccessfully to get him to stop; ultimately the man had to be shot and killed by police called to the scene. Further details from later reports indicated that it was a 27-year-old Turlock, California man who beat, kicked, shook, threw and stomped on his two-year-old son.

The first people who came upon the scene were an elderly couple in their 70s who couldn’t physically intervene though they tried to confront the man. Another man who drove by on the rural road was a 52-year-old volunteer fire fighter, who said he was pushed away by the father. Someone called the police and a helicopter happened to be already in the air in the vicinity and it landed in a cow pasture near the assault. Unfortunately the chopper landed on the wrong side of an electrified and barbed wire fence. A deputy who got out of the helicopter was able to get within 10 feet of the attacker and ordered the man to stop. When the man gave the deputy the finger and continued to kick the boy the deputy shot him in the forehead.

The story is certainly bizarre in terms of the savageness of the attack, but there are other unusual circumstances as well. The place where this occurred was on an a rural road, late on Saturday night. Police said it was unusual so many cars drove by the rather isolated spot, and I have to wonder how common it is to have a helo already up and in the area when the calls came in.

I think just reading this has to leave you shocked and outraged so I have to imagine that those on the scene had to be especially off-balance and sickened by what they were seeing. I want to be clear that I place no blame or criticism on anyone but the “father” in what happened, but I also can’t help but wonder what could possibly have kept me from rushing in and using whatever force I could muster to stop such an onslaught. Of course, most of us will never know how we’d react in a sudden and desperate situation unless we were suddenly dropped into it. I know I’ve been in my share of scrapes and physical confrontations in my life in which I’d gotten pretty angry, but nothing near as dire as this. I know I’d been in a crisis situation before and had kept my head, but never in circumstances so evil.

When it comes down to it, I can’t say what I would have done in this situation. I know what I would have liked to have done, however.

Scenes from a weekend: how a MOBster celebrates Fathers Day

This was a very full weekend. It started off with my family getting to meet a new-to-us family member, my grandmother’s great-niece (not sure what the proper term is — 2nd, 3rd, 4th-cousin?), and fine young woman named DeShae who is spending the summer in Minneapolis with the Youth Works ministry. This has been a season for meeting extended family, as my wife’s cousin from New Mexico has two grown daughters currently in the Twin Cities as well who we’ve enjoyed having over to the house. We’re hoping we can have all these lovely young ladies over at the same time.

That will be a good-sized group but still small compared to the crowd that turned out for the first annual Father’s Day party hosted by Chief. Besides the opportunity to see many of our MOB friends it gave us the opportunity to give Kevin Ecker his birthday present. Somehow or another, Kevin had gotten the crazy idea that my wife had bought him a howitzer.

Admittedly, that would have been pretty cool, if a bit difficult to gift wrap. Instead my wife had picked up something that made her think of Kevin the moment she set eyes on it.

Unfortunately we couldn’t stay late at the party because we had to head up to to Brainerd Saturday evening in order to be on hand to conduct the chapel service during the opening weekend at the Parker Boy Scout Camp. Instead of staying at the camp we stayed at my brother-in-law’s nearby lake cabin. It’s quite cozy, but surrounded by hordes of hungry mosquitos. We grabbed our bags from the car and made a mad dash to get inside but a couple of dozen of the little blood-suckers made it in the door with us. It could have been a long night, but my daughters decided it was a suitable time to give me my Father’s Day gift: the bug bat I had said I wanted a little while back. It looks like a badminton racket, but in place of strings it has wires that you can electrify by pressing a button on the handle. What a fly or a mosquito (or perhaps a parakeet) and ZZZZZTT! — instant crispy critter. I, of course, got to try it out first and if you think my maniacal glee was a bit effusive you should have heard the Mall Diva and Tiger Lilly! “Hahlo, I am the Mall Diva, you bit my sister. Prepare to die!” I christened (actually, you shouldn’t get it wet) the newest addition to our arsenal as “Old Sparky”. This morning we again had to run the gauntlet to the car, during which many more skeeters tried to come along for the ride. The Diva was on the job, however!

The chapel service went great, though we were almost late due to having to take some unexpected detours. The Reverend Mother had planned to do a specific message for this morning, but with the news of the scout camp in Iowa getting hit by a tornado last week (killing four scouts), she decided on a different approach, including a special song by the Mall Diva. She once again was able to work the flash paper into her short message and it went over famously, as always. Afterwards two of the scouts even came up to us and, in unison, shouted “Best church ever!”

After that it was time to come home and complete the Father’s Day assignment given by the Mayor of the MOB, King Banaian, in his decree, that being to grill meat. Since we know King is a vegetarian, however, we (Ben, the Diva and I) felt we needed to prepare a special course in his honor:

Finally, it was good that we had so much to do throughout the weekend since it kept me from dwelling too long on the meaning of the holiday. It was the first Father’s Day for me without my father, and there were a a few tough moments throughout the weekend when things that happened would remind me of him. I expect this will be an ongoing experience in years to come. There was another first this year as well; I got my first Father’s Day card from prospective son-in-law Ben, something I also anticipate more of in the coming years!

Why we love the MOB and its great mayor

… AND LET IT BE FURTHER RESOLVED that all fathers who blog within the MOB will have their children type a blog message on Sunday, June 15 titled “Why We Love the MOB and its Great Mayor” (with spellchecking turned OFF);

This is the Mall Diva and Tiger Lilly.

We love the MOB!! Seriously, it rocks.

We love our Mayor!! Long live King Banaian and his decrees (scroll down the first link above).

We love our daddy!!! He’s the best daddy ever and the super-coolest blogger ever.

We also did our duty by grilling and eating a member of that sly and evil species: the ninja cow. Mmm-mmmmm!

So it was written, so it was done. Selah.

I Love Birthdays!

by the Mall Diva

…And not just my own. I like them because I can make cupcakes with impunity.

Now, I love to make cupcakes and try out new and different things, but the problem with making them (almost) weekly, is having a whole batch of them in my house. They stare at me, calling out my name and reminding me that if I don’t do my part to get them eaten within a couple of days, they’ll go bad, and that’s a shameful waste! So I’ll eat one every day, and maybe that’s okay for one week, but after a few weeks I start looking a little too good in my fat jeans.

This week was my little cousin Weston’s 17th birthday, and today is Princess Flickerfeather’s 19th birthday. Yay! Happy birthday!! So I made a batch of lemon curd filled vanilla cupcakes with cream cheese frosting to send to our youth group on Wednesday night, because I knew they would be celebrating. Unfortunately, I couldn’t go. I think they were well received; the birthday boy said “they were way good”. Yay, me!!!

This recipe was my best effort yet! The cupcakes did what they were supposed to, and were aesthetically pleasing.

To fill these cupcakes, I cut a cone out of their center after they were cool, filled them, cut the top off the little cone, and put the top back on the cupcake.

No curd.

Yes curd!

I didn’t actually have one of these cupcakes. Instead I ate cupcake guts drizzled with lemon curd and topped with frosting. Mmmmmm!!!!!

The finished product

Oh Daddy

Here’s a flashback for Fathers’ Day: back when the Mall Diva was 2-3 years old her mom worked second shift and the little diva and I spent a lot of afternoons and evenings together, often watching Duck Tales and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. One of our most favorite things, however, was to watch the Adrian Belew “Oh Daddy” video, which featured Belew’s own 11-year-old daughter, Audie, singing and dancing. I’m betting Mall Diva can still sing every word of that song.



Belew is a fabulous musician who has played on some of my favorite songs from Frank Zappa, The Talking Heads and Peter Gabriel. There’s no song, however, that will stir my emotions as much as “Oh Daddy.”



I…I feel like a better person

I am loathe to fall prey to the hand-wringing and borderline (even self-fulfilling) panic surrounding gas prices. My main vehicle, a ’98 pickup, doesn’t get the greatest gas mileage but it is paid for so, on an operating cost basis, it’s fairly economical. It’s certainly not worth plunking $300-$400 a month down on a new car payment in order to save $150 in gas. Furthermore, while I’m as concerned about the environment as much as the next guy (if the next guy is Hamilton Lux), the thought of doing anything remotely “green” just for the sake of being “green” makes me, well, green.

Still, when our monthly fuel bill starts to approach my first mortgage it does make me rub my neck a little. I know there are those who love the idea of high gas prices because they misanthropically hope this will force behavior change on the mindless driving public (just as it mindlessly forces a change in the cost of groceries and quality of life for those least able to afford the lesson), so I purposefully stay cheerful when filling up my truck just to annoy those folks. I wouldn’t mind being cheerful a little less often, though.

Like most folks, I’ve not been too inclined to trade the convenience of having my vehicle at the ready to fit my schedule and whatever immediate needs might come up in order to live my life on the bus company’s schedule. This is especially true since a bus commute from where I live requires at least one transfer and twice the commuting time. I swear, I think Frodo and Samwise Gamgee had a more direct route to Mt. Doom than me trying to get to downtown Minneapolis by bus. Given the hours I’m already working that’s just not an attractive option; there’s more to being “cost efficient” than just price.

I can, however, drive from my southeastern suburb to the light rail (LRT) Park & Ride at Fort Snelling and take the train downtown to within four blocks of my office. I decided to conduct a little experiment by doing just that and comparing how many fewer miles I drove and how much longer it took to get to work, then calculating the difference in cost between my monthly parking bill and a Metropass (unlimited ride). I could have done this on a lovely summer (what passes for summer anyway) day, but why not get a taste of the elements as well? Therefore, I set off yesterday in the pouring rain for the Park & Ride (I brought an umbrella).

Total time to get to the lot: 15 minutes; distance 8 miles (compared to a 12-14 mile drive to downtown Minneapolis, depending on the route I take). The Park & Ride, however, may more accurately be described as a “Park & Walk” as I had about a quarter of a mile jaunt to the depot from my vehicle. I got to the station as a train was pulling up, but the credit card reader on the ticket machine wasn’t working. By the time I’d made a couple of attempts and finally resorted to sliding a fiver into the machine and getting my change (oh, so that’s what they’re doing with all those Sacajawea $1 coins) the train had pulled out. I waited 8 minutes for the next one and it took another 22 minutes to get to my stop downtown. From there I walked the four blocks to my office. Portal-to-portal, it took just under an hour. Driving to work in rush hour takes 40-45 minutes unless there’s bad weather or a traffic accident. The LRT also runs every 7 – 10 minutes during the “rush” hours (roughly 6 – 9 a.m. and 3 – 7 p.m.) so there’s not too much of a time penalty for “missing” a ride.

How about mileage? Four miles one way isn’t much of a savings in distance, but that equals 8 miles a day. Since my truck gets 16 miles per gallon, that’s a gallon of gas every two days, or 2.5 gallons in a typical work week. At $4 gallon, that’s $10!

As for other costs, I pay just under $80 a month to park downtown, but this will be going up an as yet undetermined amount at the end of the year when my employer stops subsidizing the cost. I can get a Metropass through my employer for $39. So, that’s about a $40 a month savings for “infrastructure”, plus $10 a week on gas. The net result is that for an extra 30 minutes a day in total transit time I could save $80 a month. I know, I could donate it to the Sierra Club, or to the schools – they never seem to have enough money! (NOT!). Yeah, I know the LRT is heavily subsidized by the State, so the fares are not a true reflection of the actual cost to operate it, but since my tax dollars are already going to support the choo-choo, perhaps I can feel as if I’m getting a little of my money back.

Other trade-offs: not as much opportunity to listen to my favorite radio programs, but more time to read; being perceived as an enviro-weenie when I’m really a rank capitalist; having to admit that money can change my behavior, but also having more money available to buy things that will increase my carbon footprint. Decisions, decisions! I suppose I should also look at the modest exercise benefit of having to walk a little farther in my daily routine vs. the “character-building” experience of getting to walk that extra distance in the potentially arctic temperatures the other 11 months of the year thanks to our “warming” environment.

I don’t know, I think I’m coming down on the side of saying “All aboard” and keeping more money in my pocket. Just don’t tell my kids (that I’ve got more money in my pocket)!

A real “man’s lady”

You may have heard a guy being described as a real “man’s man”, but a regular and insightful contributor — wise in the ways of manliness — to the weekly Manivals is actually a woman. Hayden Tompkins at Persistent Illusion lays things out in a direct and refreshing manner. As to why she spends so much time on this particular topic, well, I think I’ll let her explain it:

People wonder why, as a woman, I am so dedicated to topics of ‘manliness’ and being a man.

Chances are if you aren’t a man, then your life partner is a man. Whether you want to be a better man – a more inspired husband, an involved father, a successful businessman – or be with a better man, you are probably aware that there is a lack in this country of material on what it means to be a man.

As being a 50’s era breadwinner and head of household is no longer what it means to be a man, so too is retreating from responsibilities and letting the woman of your life handle everything. Being a man today means strength coupled with flexibility; self-knowledge, without ‘forcing’ this self on others or sacrificing it for the sake of your partnership; and fully experiencing life with an open heart, authentically, without cutting your beloved out.

Support of the ‘menaissance’ is critical in creating the breathing room needed for men to take chances and transform their lives and their relationships.

And with better men come better women and with better women come better men and with better men come better women and with better women…

Amen.

Motels, salesmen and alcohol don’t mix

An AmericInn in Moorhead, MN ended up unexpectedly hosting a “convention” of cleaning products salesmen who thought, perhaps, that they were rock stars. From the St. Paul Pioneer Press:

Moorhead motel boots 40 salesmen for ‘very, very rude behavior’
Associated Press

MOORHEAD, Minn. — About 40 traveling salespeople were thrown out of a Moorhead motel for “very, very rude behavior,” a motel manager said.

The salespeople, mostly in their mid-20s, were peddling cleaning supplies, but they sure left a mess behind, said Derek Crockett, front desk manager at the AmericInn Lodge & Suites.

Crockett’s staff started getting complaints about the guests less than two hours after they checked in Monday night. The guests were drinking, partying and smoking in nonsmoking rooms, he said.

When staff told them to leave, they “just started getting a little irate” and made threatening comments to housekeepers and security staff, he said.

Police were called but just went there to keep the peace and made no arrests, Deputy Chief Bob Larson said.

Crockett said the guests also punched holes in the walls, ripped a toilet paper holder off the wall and pulled out a couple of window screens. The rooms were still closed off Tuesday so the staff could assess the damage, he said. The guests will be charged for the rooms and the damage, he said

“It’s going to be over $1,000,” Crockett said.

It kind of reminds me of a true story my grandfather wrote involving a couple of salesmen, the Hotel Madison in Madison, WI, too much alcohol and a strong-willed goose. Not for the squeamish.