You know, I truly do believe that we are blessed to live in a country with freedom. We are free to say what we want, free to move about as we please, we can sing and dance when the moment strikes us and don’t need to worry about being told it’s wrong. Our clothing is generally dictated by the weather, unless you’re a teenage boy in winter climates, and then rumor has it all bets are off, but that’s a different story.

But just because you can do things, doesn’t mean you should do things. I mean really, have a little pride, for God’s sake. I don’t need to see the crack of your butt pouring out of your jeans. Do you not realize that’s an image now burned into my brain that I can NEVER unsee? And when it’s 30 degrees out in Minnesota, should flip flops be your footwear of choice? I actually saw a woman in her late 30’s going into Target two weeks ago with them. Slushy snow in the parking lot, and she’s wearing flip flops. (Full disclosure, my first edit had the typo of ‘flip slops’ which was wrong but probably not inappropriate for the conditions. What can I say, I thought it was funny.) It’s a little like a certain nameless politician in the news of late…yes, you can say what you want, do what you want. That’s what freedom is about, and it might be popular. But it also defines you, and helps me formulate my opinion about you. And right now my opinion is that your judgement is seriously flawed and that maybe, just maybe you’re a bit of an idiot. No really.

I actually had an employee once who thought that she was owed a paycheck for showing up. Not for doing any real work of course,  but that we had an obligation to her, a contract if you will, to pay her for the sheer privilege of having her on payroll. She also saw no need to be productive throughout the day, or to spell words correctly in spite of the fact that she had gone beyond a college education. What she had going for her was an attitude of entitlement, and she thought the world owed her everything. The other day I saw an interesting article posted from the Today Show on January 25, 2016, about the Life Skills Every 18-Year Old Should Have. Number 6 was my favorite, learning that things won’t always go your way. I thought about that former employee, and wished she’d have known that.

I was out tonight running errands, and saw another example of “just because you can” in action. Is there a guideline somewhere that makes stop signs when leaving parking lots optional? Is it the same one for right turn on red? I don’t mean the right turn on red that’s allowed after coming to a complete stop. This was the just roll around the corner turn. I was driving in a fairly populated suburb tonight (mistake #1) around dinner time (mistake #2, and before I’d eaten, mistake #3) when some idjit comes flying out of a Dairy Queen parking lot onto the road. What, no coppie, no stoppie? For real?  Then less than a minute later, someone else decided they wanted to just move into the turn lane by cutting over the solid white line. Apparently those are optional now as well. What is the matter with people? Now the whole mess of cars behind him slams on their brakes because he’s brainless and impatient. Here’s a novel idea to try. If you miss your turn, go to the next one, turn around and COME BACK! I know, I know, I can hear my friend Kelly now: “there you go, using logic again.”. Did I mention I HATE traffic? Oh yeah, that was a few blogs ago…

My absolute favorite though is clothing. Tight, tight, tight clothing. You know the kind I’m talking about. Not the sexy, maybe a bit much but almost flattering kind. I’m taking about the “two animals fighting in a burlap sack” kind, the “public nudity isn’t legal so I have my privates legal covered – sort of” kind. The kind that you SHOULD be embarrassed to be wearing in public and WHY DIDN’T YOUR MAMA TEACH YOU BETTER THAN THAT? I know, there are all kinds of variations in taste, culture, ethnic etc. I ain’t talkin’ ’bout that, don’t go there. I’m referring to the getup on someone – usually a female but could be a guy too, I’ll be fair – that is so bad even at the nastiest bar in town, the skank won’t talk to them. The perfect example of just because you can does NOT mean you should, really means you shouldn’t, and please, I’m begging you, quit it. Blech.

Time for me to ponder my list of should and should nots, hopefully make some good choices today!

I have a twisted brain. It comes up with these weird, random thoughts a la Steven Wright, the comedian. If you don’t know who he is, go out to you tube, there is plenty of his stand up comedy work to pick from but he is the master of dry, deadpan humor. He’ll say something and you know it’s funny, but about 3 hours later you start laughing because you realize HOW funny it was.

Anyway, I was thinking of something the other day. What’s the point of decaf? I mean, we drink coffee for the caffeine…the pick-me-up…the waker-upper….the morning eye-opener. We drink it to start our day, and rev our engines, to get our brains a little something extra. It’s like adding STP to the fuel in your engine. It conditions it a bit, maybe smoooooths those rough edges out. But decaf? Seriously?

Low carb alcohol is another one. So each serving has fewer calories. Come on, who are we trying to kid? After the 3rd drink, whose brain still functions well enough to count calories? Have a 4th and you’re probably not even counting drinks either (but of course, you have a designated driver, a taxi or are at home. Duh.)

One of my all time favorites has to be the folks who go through at a fast food restaurant, and order something like this: “Hi, I’ll have a whopper, large fries and a diet coke.” You’ve just ordered a heart attack in a paper wrapper, and you’re worried about the extra 200 calories from the coke? Maybe it’s time to re-evaluate  priorities kids. Why is everyone so terrified of sugar? Even the schools are getting in on it now, banning soft drinks from K-12 campuses. Why? Because our kids are getting fat.

I have to wonder though, did anyone do a root cause analysis on this? I’m not saying we don’t consume too much sugar as a nation, we do. And cutting back isn’t a bad plan at all. But here’s the deal…the reason kids are getting fat isn’t sugar. It’s because they don’t eat enough dirt. 

I can just see a few of you out there, scratching your heads and being fairly certain I’ve lost what little mind I had left. The whispers of “what the…is she nuts?!!”  I have a theory, however, and I’ve seen more and more about this in the news lately. (Google “are kids too clean” if you don’t believe me.) With all of the technology at our fingertips, cool phones, Xboxes and PlayStations everywhere, kids learn to play games on computers at a young age, and then carry that mentality with them. They don’t go outside anymore. Most kids don’t have a clue what “Kick-the-Can”, “Starlight, Moonlight”, double dutch jump rope and my favorite “the Run Around the House Game” (we made that one up. No one outside of Union Terrace in Ivanhoe Woods knew what it was!) But the point is, so many kids hang inside, and play computer games. Then they go wash for dinner with that other problem, antibacterial soap.

Me, at about age 3 or 4?

We all need to be outside more, get our hands in dirt. Remember pulling a carrot out of the garden, wiping the dirt in the grass, then on your jeans before just eating it right there? Or taking an apple off the tree, polishing it on your pants before eating it? When was the last time you pulled a worm out of dirt? We’ve done ourselves a disservice by being so damn clean all the time. Our immune systems are horribly compromised and kids are sick all the time, with more allergies showing up, because we aren’t getting beneficial low levels of bacteria and other pathogens, which our systems can then work at developing a healthy immunity to. All that sitting around playing games means NO EXERCISE. There you go, root cause. Sugar, fat calories aren’t inherently bad. We need them for fuel and for healthy function of our bodies. Some in lower quantities than others, depending on health conditions, but overall, the key isn’t elimination, it’s moderation. And exercise. Best of all, there is this cool little side benefit to exercise I’m finding. The more I do it, the more I get to eat!  So if I do a several hour bike ride, or run a 5K, I don’t have to feel guilty about the celebratory pizza and coke.(Don’t get me wrong, I still do feel a little guilty, and maybe that’s not bad either, it keeps me in check.)

So, get off your backside, and go eat a little dirt.

The older I get the less fond I am of being frightened. I never liked scary movies all that much when I was younger, and time hasn’t mellowed me. I’m not like my niece who used to like to watch them with her girlfriends in high school and just closed her eyes at the really scary bits. My brain is just a little TOO good at filling in the blanks and I can imagine quite creatively, thank you very much. I don’t like haunted houses either. My neighbor loves them and each year has tried to convince me to go along with her to the one in our town for Halloween, but I just can’t do it.

I don’t know what it is, but the adrenaline rush just does nothing for me. If I need that, I’ll go bungee jumping or sky diving (never done either of those things either, by the way!) I’m perfectly fine being mellow and relaxed. Maybe it’s because I scare too easily.

Frequent scene in our house: Me, walking around, minding my own business, perhaps it’s evening, the house is darkish. I walk out of a room and BAM. Husband is  RIGHT THERE, arriving in stealth mode and scaring me to death. After he’s stopped laughing, he helps me up off the floor. It’s a scene we’ve repeated so often that he’s finally learning to make noise as he approaches.  Why would anyone voluntarily go through that? I don’t get it. (insert big shudder here.)

So now we come to the holiday that is dedicated to the pursuit of scaring, and ghoulies and goblins. Of fear and fright, of superstition and ghosts, witches and warlocks. I’m pretty sure that Karma is going to get me really good one of these days, because while I hate being scared, I get a perverse pleasure in watching someone else jump. It’s really funny. Go to You Tube and look up DTWS Season 19 Halloween Scares if you don’t believe me, or check this link: Scaring Remini.  Kudos to Leah Remini for not using some of the words she could have, and to Tom Bergeron for proving he is still the best host on live TV when he quipped “there were 7 words she could have used but didn’t”, which I’m pretty sure is a reference to George Carlin’s “7 dirty words you can’t say on television”.  But if anyone does that to me, I’m pretty sure I’ll use at least one of those 7 words, on television or not!

Last year we decided to add a skeleton to the decorations, and picked up a pirate costume for him, because doesn’t everyone have a pirate skeleton in their closet? As you can see, at least one member of the household felt quite unafraid…

Next year the plan is to add a little creativity and motors, and try to get him moving, maybe spook the kiddies a little. Not a lot, I don’t want to terrify them, but a little. We’ll have the COOL house. I can hear it now.

“Hey, did you go to that house on the other street with the sweet pirate? ” “No, which one?” “Oh, man, you have to go. It’s standing on a ship’s deck, moving back and forth, they have fog, and a black light, and scary music, and cobwebs, it’s awesome!” (What words do kids use now? Righteous? Wicked? I’m old, I don’t know.)  I just know we want to have our fantastic pirate out there, moving around like he’s steering a ship, and with a little luck maybe, just maybe, I’ll figure out a way to have an occasional spider, or black cat or something, lunge out. But only at the teenagers, because if you’re that old and still trick or treating, then evil me says you probably should expect the unexpected. Look at the bright side: it’s still a lot nicer than a friend I had who goes all out for Halloween. He spends weeks decorating his house and yard with tombstones and small fencing to make it look like a graveyard, lit up bones, lighted eyes in the trees, dripping blood candles. He even has a flaming pumpkin each year, which he does by soaking a roll of toilet paper in lamp oil for about a week before Halloween, then after he carves the pumpkin he puts the roll in the pumpkin and lights it on fire. He tells me it’s fantastic. I’ve never seen it, and husband refuses to allow me to do one here. I don’t understand why not, particularly when said husband is a certified firebug, but that’s another story.

One year my friend got the whole set up done, lights lit up, then dressed up and wrapped himself in a black cloak with a hood that covered him completely, and added long black gloves. He sat slumped in a chair next to their sidewalk looking like he was a stuffed dummy, and as kids walked up to the house, he randomly reached out and grabbed and arm. Scared the crap out of them, probably made at least one or two cry.

I won’t go that far. But I sure would have laughed if I’d have seen it.

“One of these things is not like the others,
One of these things just doesn’t belong,
Can you tell which thing is not like the others
By the time I finish my song?”
(Joe Raposo/Jon Stone credit)
Have you ever noticed how some things go together so well, that it’s hard to imagine one without the other? What if Abbott didn’t have Costello, or if Teller tried to take his act on the road without Penn? Apart, they don’t work at all, but together, their synchronicity is perfect.

It’s not just people that can have those combinations that are so habitually linked in our minds. There are foods (pizza and beer, chips and dip, burgers and fries, you get the idea), or seasons (summer and mosquitos, winter and hot chocolate), or even just life (movies and popcorn.) They feel like they are all part of the natural order of things. (and if you want an odd but interesting read, go find a copy of “The Order of Things”. You’ll be amazed at what you didn’t know. For instance, if you grew up going to church you might have heard there is a hierarchy to the angels…there are cherubim and seraphim. I couldn’t tell you which are where in the order, but I know there is one. But did you know that there are 4 noble truths in the teaching of Buddha? Or that there are 5 categories of computer language? Who knew…

Newton’s Third Law says “for every reaction there is an equal and opposite reaction” (science lesson for today, kiddies), and since we have order, we must have disorder as well. Look around you’ll see it. On our recent road trip vacation to the Black Hills of South Dakota, we stopped in Worthington, MN for dinner. Sitting along I-90 in in the Southwestern corner of Minnesota, 12,000 people call it home. And yet, Tesla seems to think it’s a great place to put several of it’s vehicle charging stations. I’m pretty sure no one owns a Tesla  in Worthington, but perhaps they are thinking about it from a “fly-over” concept…you need something out in the middle of nowhere. Oh wait, that’s not Worthington. The middle of nowhere would be about 4 or 5 hours to the West on I-90. There is nothing there. NOTHING. Except jelly rolls of hay, the occasional herd of cattle, and sometimes a few trees, half of which are dead. Good thing we are such wonderful conversationalists. “Honey?” “Yep”. “Um, I forgot what I was going to say, sorry”. “OK, tell me later”.

I’m happy to say we survived that road trip, marriage intact. We still like each other after a week of togetherness in the car. We’ve been alone on vacations before, when we’ve gone camping in the Boundary Water Canoe Area Wilderness. If you’re not familiar with it, it’s located in the northeaster part of Minnesota, and is almost a million acres of unspoiled wilderness. You can only access it by canoe and feet. Whatever you need you carry in on your back, and I’ve somehow allowed him to convince me to go up there four times. Because he’s done it so many times, I just rely on him to navigate us through the lakes, and make sure we get camp set up, have firewood, and have dinner. On this trip, the roles were reversed, and he relied on me, and our trusty navigation system (which mostly worked, although Mark Fields at Lincoln Motor Company has some explaining to do about why he let them remove the option of directly entering GPS coordinates with the latest ‘upgrade’, but I digress). The sights were indeed, interesting.

South Dakota, on the other hand, is more than 49 million acres. Along I-90 it’s lots of ranch land: dry, brown, ranch land. Scattered clumps of trees here and there, broken up by dead limbs, and accented by the occasional heard of cattle. About halfway across the state you get a brief respite as you cross the Missouri River, then back to kind of boring. Closer to the west it perks up with glimpses of the badlands from the highway, and then, finally, you’re there. The home of the 4 faces, the land of “Dances With Wolves” and Black Hills Gold. The place where Cary Grant fell in love with Eva Marie Saint in North by Northwest and climbed around Mt Rushmore (not really, the Park Service is funny about that stuff you know!) and where a little boy plugged his ears in the cafeteria before Cary Grant fired his gun (really! Watch the movie again.) If you’ve never been to western South Dakota, take the time. We had so much fun in our 5 days there, and are already talking about another trip. Besides time at Mt. Rushmore, we hiked up to Harney Peak, drove Needles highway in both daylight and darkness (I don’t advise that!), spent a day in Spearfish Canyon and stopped at Roughlock Falls and the Dances With Wolves film site, and so many other things. I have to say Harney Peak is one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done. You start climbing at about 6000 feet of elevation, go to 6500 feet or so, then down to 6200-6300, then up-up-up to 7200. It’s not a nice, soft, sandy trail either. It’s boulders, tree roots, rocks. It’s HARD.

Last part of the Sylvan Lake Trail up to Harney Peak, South Dakota.

The guides say plan 2-4 hrs to make it to the top, we did itin 2.5. If you do it, wear hiking boots, and take way more water than you think you need, plus snacks, some toilet paper and a baggie just in case nature calls, as there are no toilets. At the top is a stone fire tower built in 1939 by the CCC, and it looks over 4 states. The view is breath taking, stunning and absolutely worth it. I was so overwhelmed, I could not have done this 2 years ago and am so grateful for the ability to have come this far.

View from the top of Harney Peak, South Dakota. Elevation 7206 ft.

But you know what they say, what goes up, must come down…and thank goodness the walk down was better than up. We even met a father son team from Duluth, and strangely enough the son asked me what I did for a living because he said “I would have guessed you’re a nurse”. When I asked him where that came from, he said that it was from how I’d been talking to his (elderly) father in a nurturing way. Turns out son and I used to work at the same care center in south Minneapolis back in the mid 1980s, and knew some of the same people. What an odd world!

Now if only we could have teleported back home again and not driven across South Dakota a second time. Oh well, maybe by our next trip. I hear quantum physics is making great strides.

Oh the stories I can tell…and will! Coming soon, tales of our adventures through the Black Hills of South Dakota. I just had to share this teaser trailer though, have you ever see a buffalo up close and personal? Twenty feet from your vehicle, in the wild, up close and personal? They are MASSIVE. Ginormous. Like ‘holy crap’ huge. So Mike kept one foot on the gas, ready to peal out in case it turn and moved toward us while I peeked out the top of the car with the camera.

Hope your adventures are just as grand!

I recently attended the “White Coat Ceremony” for my niece as she started her first year of medical school. If you’ve never heard of it, don’t feel bad, neither had I and I’m a nurse by background. It’s the formal ceremony that kicks off freshman year for med students. It was started about 20 years ago, and is now done at 95% of medical schools in the country. They have speakers who attempt to be both humorous and inspirational, followed by the parade of incoming students who cross a stage as their names are announced, to don a white coat, shake hands with instructors, then accept a reflex hammer and stethoscope (both of which were kindly donated by local businesses), before exiting stage left to the applause of family and friends.

I did notice something during this ritual, this rite of passage. There was an interesting selection of attire with these young women (some younger than others). There were some wearing very short, tight skirts, some in business professional dresses or skirts and some in business or business casual pants. The footwear varied as well, from sturdy but supportive Doc Martens, to flats, and stilettos. Wait, what? Mini skirts and stilettos at a formal ceremony for medical school? Granted, you can’t, and perhaps shouldn’t, judge the book by it’s cover, but at the same time, get real. These are the students that are the going to be the doctors that take care of you and I.

I had this immediate mental picture of a lovely young woman with long, straight hair flatironed to perfection, walking into a room just after her instructor and student colleagues, wobbling on 4″ stilettos, each step announcing her arrival and subsequent departure through the click of those heels on the tile floors. She misses the first few things the instructor says because she has to take such small steps in those heels, and is always trying to play catch up. At the end of the day she can’t figure out why her whole day is a blur and just runs on and on and on….none of it makes sense, not one patient stands out. Ah, but you see, it’s ok, because she looked cute in those shoes…they made her legs look awesome.

Frankly, when I’m laying on a cart in an emergency room at 2 a.m. clutching my chest, wondering if I’m going to die, that’s what I’m thinking too…”her legs look awesome”….um, not so much.

Maybe the shoes are a predictor of who will actually make it through year 1 of medical school, and I can use that to tell my niece, “don’t worry about 25% of your female classmates, they wore stupid shoes to the white coat ceremony, they’ll never make it. You wore flats, sweetheart, you’ll be fine!”

Oh well, they’ll always have a reflex hammer and stethoscope.