Deep Thoughts

I don't do New Year's Resolutions.  They are hazardous to your mental health.  Just signing up for something you know will fail indicates irrational thinking and then when the predictable happens, you fall into depression over what you knew would happen from the get go.  And then next year you do it all over again.  There's a word for that kind of behavior.

Instead, I record "Deep Thoughts". You know Jack Handey-like, without the schmalzy music.

2021

Buy clothes that are too large. They offer freedom of movement and are cost saving in the long term

People tend to lose interest in their health in the winter & send regrets come spring

I’m convinced each gray hair preserves a memory.  Not sure where bald guys keep theirs. 

Agility. The test of whether you have lost it is when you attempt to get your leg in your underwear.

It’s easier to go through life with someone you love

Tell people what to think. Otherwise someone else will

The places you remember from your youth are no longer there

Days go slow but weeks go fast during a plague.

If you are good at procrastinating, you don't need to be good at anything else.

I refuse to join any organization that would have me as a member (borrowed from Mark Twain)

It's a lot easier to realize your zipper is down in the winter.

You can be fined for smoking inside and for drinking outside so you shouldn't do both at the same time.

Everyone has an expression they use overmuch in their speech. I hope yours is not “like” or “at the end of the day”.  If your phrase is “in truth”, I will run for cover.

Wash your feet before bed and wear clean underwear in case you're transported by ambulance (channeling my mother).

If you encounter a man in deep contemplation, chances are he's not thinking of anything.

Life is easier if you want what you have.

The top bit the toothpaste tube lasts 10 times that of the rest.

Idiocy is contagious.

I am told I look like my father.  Unfortunately no one said that when he was young and handsome. 

Do you ever look at the list of today's famous birthdays and wonder what rabbit hole you've been down?

A good walk cures boredom.

The best way out is through. (borrowed from Robert Frost)

Copyright © 

Dave Hoplin

Scandinavian Delicacies

In 2020, the Joy of Christmas is under pressure. It's unlikely we will experience the normal large family gatherings, the fabulous church services and music .. many of the traditions that make the season so special. People are hurting both mentally, physically and economically. Many have died or are in hospital.

My wife loves Christmas.  She's a giver, at times over the top but it gives her joy.  She loves the specialness of the season, the family love and closeness, the Christmas music (which starts about Halloween around here), the church services, the decorations that trigger a childhood nostalgia and the foods that make the mouth water with anticipation of that Christmas Eve dinner table. She loves to bake so the bounty overflows, much to the delight of friends and family. Trilbies, krumkake, flatbread, pies, fudge, brownies, almond bread, cookies ... and of course, *lefse.

Lefse is the one tradition that cannot be skipped in this household.  Lefse lights the Christmas spirit.

Here's a tutorial.

1. Block out 2 days on your calendar and a 3rd for cleanup.

2. Pick out good potatoes.  If you fail this step, you are doomed.  Russets are best. Others absorb too much water during the boil (see below). 10-20 lbs.

3. Buy a lefse grill.  The one we have is from Hoplin & Nelson circa 1970  $18.95. You'll have to outlay a bit more today.  And a lefse stick.

4. Peel and boil.

5. Rice. If you're up to it, twice. Find a volunteer with strong hands.

6. Mix riced potatoes with the flour, butter & cream.

7. Roll into balls. Refrigerate overnight

8. For each ball, roll and roll and roll on a lightly floured pastry cloth.

9. When it is rolled to exactly the right thickness, use the special lefse stick to flip it on the grill. (Remember to plug it in.)  Brush off excess flour. New unused paint brush works well - watch for loose bristles. Don't worry about the shape. It's not a beauty contest and it doesn't affect the taste.

10. At precisely the right time, flip and repeat for side two. Then add to the finished lefse to the stack forming on a clean towel.

10. When cooled, fold and package. Two to a package, three if you're feeling generous.

11.  Consume. Butter & white sugar (brown if you were not brought up right) and roll into a tube. Some people go sugarless - can't understand that.

12.  Give some away.  It's really not Scandinavian nice to hoard all your lefse. 

This is a mediocre specimen.  I am only allowed to eat the less than perfect. But the misshapen taste just as good as the "good enough for company" pieces. 

Best wishes to you'all this holiday season.  Stay well.

Copyright © 2020 Dave Hoplin

* Lefse is a traditional soft Norwegian flatbread. It is made with potatoes, flour, butter, and milk or cream. It is cooked on a large, flat griddle. Special tools are used to prepare lefse, including long wooden turning sticks and special rolling pins with deep grooves.
 

Spectator

Royal fever returns. Season 4 of "The Crown" released on Netflix November 15th. The saga of the House of Windsor. Philip, Elizabeth, Charles, Margaret, Anne and Diana - but the character that most intrigued me in season 3 was Princess Alice.

Princess Alice of Battenberg was the mother of Prince Philip, mother-in-law of QE2.  She is quite a story.  She was diagnosed as congenitally deaf as a young child and learned to communicate by lip reading in multiple languages, becoming fluent in German.  She married Prince Andrew of Greece in 1903 at the age of 18.  They had 5 children, Philip the youngest, the only son.  During the Greek-Turkish war, 1919-1922 the family fled Greece, becoming royal refugees. Philip was sent to boarding school in England. Alice converted to Greek Orthodox and became deeply religious. In the late 1920's, she was diagnosed with schizophrenia and institutionalized, garnering interest from Sigmund Freud.  In the mid-30's, she left treatment and returned to Greece, volunteering with the Red Cross and soup kitchens and a life of poverty.  During the occupation of Greece by the Nazis, she hid a Jewish family friend and her daughter in her apartment.  When questioned by the Gestapo, she pretended she could not hear or understand. While Philip served in the British Navy during WWII, his four sisters were married to German men who fought for the Nazis. None of these sisters were invited to Philip & Elizabeth's wedding in 1947.

In 1949, Alice, taking the name Sister Alice-Elizabeth founded the Christian Sisterhood of Martha and Mary, an order of nuns caring for the sick in Greece.  In 1967, after a military coup in Greece, she moved to Buckingham Palace. She formed a special bond with her granddaughter Princess Anne.  She died in 1969 at the age of 84. She was interred in Jerusalem. 

She makes a fairly brief appearance in The Crown, but she makes a statement that caught me on the chin:

    "When I hit 70, I realized that I had become a spectator, no longer a participant."  

Ouch. 

A spectator!  In this age of vile name-calling, this one might be the most wounding. To be complacent and fiddle while the world crumbles certainly begs self examination.  

But what to do?  I fall back on my mother's words: "Bloom where you're planted." Regardless of your age, do what you can, as long as you can, where you are, to better the conditions for others.  You don't need to change the world, rather work on "your" world. That is sufficient.  Share a pie or hotdish with neighbors, volunteer, give money if you can, speak out against injustice, be kind.  Imagine if this were a universal ethic.

One of my favorite poems and inspiration is Lord Tennyson's Ulysses with this to the point section:

...

   Old age hath yet his honour and his toil;

    Death closes all: but something ere the end,

    Some work of noble note, may yet be done,

    Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.

    The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:

    The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep

    Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends,

    T'is not too late to seek a newer world.

...

Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'

We are not now that strength which in old days

Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;

One equal temper of heroic hearts,

Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

T'is not too late. T'is never too late.

Copyright © 2020 Dave Hoplin

Losing the Middle

You might be expecting an inspiring weight loss story, but no, in the time of pandemic that is but a pipe dream.  Rather this is another nostalgia piece, this time over shrinking middle class America.

Growing up in the small town of Lowry in the 50’s, I didn’t know any poor people. Oh, there were a few families that lived across the tracks that were “needy”, but poor - not in our town. 

Most people lived in single family homes but some families lived in apartments: Molander Apartments, Lowry Flats or other rental properties. Several Main Street businesses had apartments above the business level: McIver’s Store, Chan’s Tavern, Lowry Telephone and the Dahl House.

My first six years were in an apartment above the Dahl House. From the alley in the back, it could have been mistaken for a big city tenement.  But in my memory it was great. The stairs led straight to Hank Bosek's roof and in the winter the snow banked high allowing for "jumping off the roof". 

My mom worked as a nurse for Doc McIver my dad worked as an electrician for Hoplin & Nelson.  Most apartment dwellers were retired, single parents or families trying to save enough for a down payment on an $5000 home. Lowry State Bank was notoriously conservative in its lending practice having survived the depression without being forced into closure. My father was turned down by LSB as a poor risk- and 2 other banks as well - even though the the Hoplin family had operated a business in Lowry since 1916. Luckily, WWII vets had the option of appealing to the Veterans Administration for a loan, so in 1953 my father obtained a 3% loan for $8500  ($38/mo) to build a home on Drury Ave. 

So, in 1953 our family moved from Dahl House apartment, straddling the poverty line to 249 Drury Lane, lower middle class. Mom was no longer "working", rather managing a home, cooking 3 meals a day & 2 little kids. Also money management & paying the bills, unusual for the day.  My father worked 6 days a week from 7 AM to 6 PM, plus summer Saturday nights at the hardware store when the county came to town (see: Saturday Night). Sunday morning church & Sunday School. Summer Sunday afternoons at the Lowry Leghorns ballgame. And Sunday nights were generally devoted to working on next week work plan and bids for future electrical or plumbing work. (Not to mention, emergency calls at all hours - doctors had nothing on Glenn Hoplin).  Not exactly the Life of Riley.

From my POV, we were comfortable. There was always good food on the table - mom was a great cook - but the boiled ring baloney once a week was not my cup of tea - to mix a metaphor. I had my very own room. I'd get a new pair of Buster Brown's and a winter jacket from Bob's Clothes Shop in Alex every fall. And a pair of Red Ball Jets from McIver's Store for the summer and skates from Hoplin & Nelson for the winter.  Eating out was Sunday dinner at Esthers and a trip to the Starbuck DQ a couple times a month in the summer. That was about the extent of the luxuries. There was usually vanilla ice cream in the freezer tho. 

There were a couple Lowry swells who purchased a new car every 2 or 3 years but most people drove theirs to the ground. Our family did not own a car until 1960 and that was a hand-me-down '57 Buick from Uncle Dave. We made due with the work truck, packing the 4 of us into the seatbeltless cab. On the rare vacation or trip to Iowa or Minneapolis to see the sisters, Uncle Dave graciously made loan of his Buick. 

We did have a black & white TV pretty early, coupled with a tower antenna on the south side of the house. The nearest stations were 150 miles away in the Twin Cities so reception was sketchy at best.  I spent considerable time fiddling with the rotor to try to position the antenna so I could make out Roy Rogers in the snow. In the late 50's, Alexandria brought KCMT & Huntley-Brinkley to the area, assuring 1 clear channel.

This is a pretty typical story of small town USA in the 50's and I think a fair description of middle class life in rural America.  Hard working, optimistic families striving to secure home ownership and improved quality of life. 

This picture of course is no longer familiar.  The middle class doubled in numbers in the 50's but since the 80's has been dropping precipitously. A middle class existence now requires two wage earners with families one serious illness away from bankruptcy. (Covid of course changes this equation even more radically) Small towns are on the wane, losing their young people, their schools, churches and businesses. (Covid is accelerating this)

The wage and wealth gap is ripping a hole in the middle. The country is dividing between the very wealthy and the working poor. As the old saw goes .. "thems whats gots keeps."  

And a few data points.

The pay gap between CEO's and their workers is now roughly 270x, CEO's averaging ~$15 million/yr. Average USA wage is ~$52K but this is misleading because the very high earners jack the average up.  The median wage is $34K, which means 1/2 earn less than that. 34M people live below the poverty line. The top 1% reap 20% of the income and own 80% of the wealth.

Source: Census.gov 

Source: EPI.org

The minimum wage in 2020 is $7.25/hr.  For full-time (40 hrs/wk) employment, this yields $14,500/yr before deductions.

Think about it.

Copyright © 2020 Dave Hoplin

This I Believe

A few years ago, NPR had a weekly series titled "This I Believe". People of all walks of life, famous, little known or unknown would submit an essay on a subject meaningful to them and if chosen, they would read their essay on the air. The original "This I Believe" aired on CBS from 1951 - 1955, hosted by Edward R. Murrow. The idea was revived by NPR and continues on PRI. Check it out https://thisibelieve.org/   I'm sure you will find something inspiring.

I have no expectation of appearing on the radio, but here's my essay.

This I Believe.

I believe a healthy democracy requires a separation of powers where all three branches of government have equal power and act as checks and balances on the others. The Legislative branch should create laws, exercise the power of the purse and confirm political appointees and exercise oversight of the Executive branch. The Executive branch shall administer laws assuring they are faithfully executed, act as commander in chief of the armed forces, conduct foreign policy, propose legislative initiatives. The Judicial branch shall interpret laws, settle disputes, rule on the constitutionality of laws. The judiciary should be non-political.

I believe that voting is both a right granted by the constitution and a sacred duty for all eligible voters.  I believe voting should be simple, fair and accessible to all. I believe attempts to suppress the vote is criminal. 

I believe that affordable, quality health care is a right and should not depend on income or locale.

I believe the US needs allies. I believe we should work diligently to build partnerships around the world, especially with countries on our borders, Europe, Israel and Japan. I believe we have surrendered our moral and political leadership in the world.

I believe that climate change is an existential threat to the planet. It is a global problem and must be met by coordinated global action. I believe we are failing and the time for action is short.  

I believe that environmental protection is a fundamental component of the health and welfare of a society. I believe it is a responsibility of all of us but governments have a special responsibility to preserve our natural wonders, protect water & air quality, combat deforestation, punish polluters.

I believe that science leads to progress.

I believe in the separation of church and state. I believe we all have the right to worship as we choose without interference from government.

I believe that peaceful protest is a fundamental right granted by the constitution.  I believe that looting and burning is a crime and should be punished.

I believe in individual liberty coupled with individual responsibility. I believe liberty means you are free to make your own decisions as long as the rights of others are considered. I believe responsibility requires empathy and compassion for those less well off than yourselves. 

I believe it is possible to disagree and still be respectful of the opinions of others. 

I believe that embracing false conspiracy theories causes great damage to civil society.

I believe the USA must work to recover our long held standing as a beacon of freedom to the world, the shining light on the hill and again '... and lift our lamp beside the golden door'. 

Copyright © 2020 Dave Hoplin

Nicknames

Growing up in the small town of Lowry in the 50's was a pretty insulated environment. But you had to learn to get along with people.  A civil society.  As kids, we bonded through mutual interests and by 'following the leader'. Tubba was that leader  Now "Tubba" seems like a derogatory, bully-like nickname, but for us it was a term of affection. Everyone liked Tubba. And, point of fact, we all had nicknames. Nowadays, nicknames seem to have gone out of style. For us, it was a bonding thing.

In the 50's and before, nicknames were more common in society in general, particularly among sports figures. Baseball, the national game at the time, in particular was awash in colorful handles. Babe, of course. And Shoeless Joe made famous by Field of Dreams;  The Barber whose shaving implement was a fastball under the chin; Three-Finger,  whose mangled hand made for nasty pitches; Rapid Robert with his hundred mph fastball; Yogi, master of the malaprop; The Splendid Splinter; Say Hey Kid; Hammerin' Hank; Joltin' Joe; Duke; Killer; Big Train; Big Poison; Little Poison; Pee Wee; Scooter; Charlie Hustle; Mudcat; Catfish; Dizzy; Preacher; Satchel; Puck ... you get the idea. (bragging rights to the first to identify all these players :-)

I was "Hoppy", a rather dull moniker derived from my surname. However, I identified with Hopalong Cassidy, the black hat hero, so I didn't object too much. Hi-yo Topper. Others in the "gang" had more interesting alter egos.  

• We had "Utta" (derivation unknown) who lived in the Molander Apartments above the International Harvester dealership and regularly fired his 22 at the water tower a block away from his bedroom window. 
• Big Time was a load, especially on the ice rink. I know of no one brave enough to try to take the puck away from him when he got up a head of steam.
• Dubshay is Bohemian for Tak, so that seems like a pretty nice honorific.
• Mucka (derivation unknown).  What the heck is a mucka?  Muck is not a nice place to find yourself.
• Engie, another derivation from a surname. Not everyone is creative.
• King - a mystery.
• Tonto - The Lone Ranger sidekick, but we had no Lone Ranger.  go figure
• Butch - perhaps the most common nickname of the day.  Leland the Barber's specialty.
• Bumpy earned his nickname.
• Bubby. No clue although he was Bumpy's brother and Bubby & Bumpy has a nice ring to it.
• Speed was Tubba's brother. Slightly different frames.  I remember playing touch football on the skating rink and Tubba was running back a kickoff straight up the middle.  As Speed was closing in, Tubba faked a pitchout and Speed bit, tearing off to the supposed receiver.  Tubba motored on and Speed circled around from 20 yards back and caught him about the 30 yard line.  Nice move tho.

I'm sure I've missed a few. Lowry oldtimers - help me out.

You've probably noticed there are no females in the list. Rare, except for a shortening of the given name:  Dort, Maggie, Abby, ... I thought that with all the Mabels, Esthers, Leonas, Hilmas, Agnes, Clarices and Gertrudes in town, you'd think they would have welcomed a clever handle. 

Nicknames for men on the other hand were common, perhaps a legacy of WWII. 

• Captain: Anzio vet
• Happy: And he truly was. 
• Fluke: A rare lucky happenstance so someone must have liked him.  
• Spook: Just take a long look into those eyes. 
• Slim: Don't tell me we didn't understand irony. 
• Wimpy: From the cartoon character I'm guessing.  
• Goose: I could guess but I'll defer. 
• And an assortment of Buds', Andy's, Hank's, Punky's.

I realize I am suffering from stage 3 nostalgia but those were the days my friend.

Copyright © 2020 Dave Hoplin

COVID-19

Covid-19 is not the same as influenza. We are now (20Oct2020) at 40 million cases and over 1 million deaths worldwide from this pandemic and cases are spiking as we enter the fall "flu" season. The death rate from Covid is about 3%.  Influenza death rate is about .1%.  They are not the same.  We have flu vaccines. We do not have a Covid vaccine. What ticks me off are the frequent comments like "it's only old people dying" - which targets me by the way - and is also false. It's as if the right to life has an expiration date.  Yes, the vast majority of those dying are over 65, however if you're young "you have nothing to fear" is wrong, especially because you may potentially infect your parents and grandparents or other vulnerable "old people". And your death risk is higher that the flu.  If you have any empathy for your fellow man, you will do everything you can to prevent yourself from passing along this virus.  In short, wear a mask, wash your hands, keep to social distancing.

Remember, many cases are asymptomatic. You don't really know if you are a carrier.  Carriers can infect others. Yes, your risk of infection varies by zip code but everyone is vulnerable. The disease is highly infectious. Densely populated urban areas are riskier but on the other hand, take a look at North Dakota numbers.

And, regardless of your age, you really don't want to get this disease.  Not because it might kill you, although it might, but because of what long-term effects it might have on you. 

It is pretty easy to accept that those that surviving a hospital stay for Covid are likely to sustain lung or heart damage. An elephant on your chest. I can't get enough air. I feel like I'm 100. A respirator keeping you alive.

The virus attacks blood vessels and the associated organ is at risk of long term damage. In addition to lung damage, liver damage, brain damage, myocarditis (inflammation of the heart muscle) is the most common "leftover" from Covid.  It is triggered by the over-aggressive immune response to the disease. It can produce arrhythmia (irregular heart rhythms), AFib symptoms,  and reduce the ability of the heart to pump. These symptoms can occur weeks or months after recovery from Covid.  A German study showed that 78% of recovered patients had indications of myocarditis.  Only half of those resolve without a chronic condition. Another study found CV19 in the heart muscle of 7% patients whose death was attributed to lung failure.  We are likely to see an increase death rate due to heart failure in the future.

Finally, "herd immunity", the latest proposed solution to Covid.  Herd immunity is the concept that if enough people contract the virus, there will not be enough uninfected to transmit to and the virus will become harmless. This first of all assumes you will have immunity once you have contracted the virus. Perhaps.  In the US, to have effective herd immunity, roughly 200 million people would need to get the disease. The current US death rate is about 3%, but be optimistic, assume that as the herd gets sick the death rate falls to 1% - purely hypothetical by the way.  Do the math 200,000,000 x .01 = 2,000,000.  Mass murder.

Copyright © 2020 Dave Hoplin

Read more

https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/covid-19-can-wreck-your-heart-even-if-you-havent-had-any-symptoms/

https://ourworldindata.org/mortality-risk-covid

Nordeast Revisited

By popular demand (3 people), I offer up another in my sporadic Twin Cities History series. This edition takes another look at Minneapolis Northeast, affectionately known as "Nordeast". If you are familiar with this unique area of Minneapolis, you probably know Mayslack's, Karmarczuk's Deli, Nye's Piano Bar, St. Constatine's pierogi dinners, the Grain Belt Brewery sign ... If you are not familiar with the territory, I would encourage you to first read my initial post on Nordeast to get the flavor.     https://ussbb62.blogspot.com/2015/11/minneapolis-nordeast.html

What I offer in this post is a survey of some lesser known and quirkier places I have discovered on my bicycle wanderings. 

One peculiarity of Nordeast is its streets.  The north-south streets near the river are Main, 2nd, 3rd ... up to 6th, but then you enter the "Presidential Zone".  From west to east you find in order: Washington St, Adams St, Jefferson St, Madison St, Monroe St, Quincy St (to avoid a 2nd Adams St.) and so on, all the way to Coolidge.  The city fathers felt that since the area was home to so many immigrants, this street naming scheme would teach American History.  However, I doubt there are 1 in 1000 Americans who could tell you who was president after Fillmore, so I'm skeptical of the premise.

Fletcher's Ice Cream - 1509 Marshall Ave NE

Tucked back in a nook on Marshall St above Broadway - blink you'll miss it - sits a culinary delight. Home-made ice cream to die for.

Firefighter's Hall & Museum - 664 22nd Ave NE

The permanent display includes an 1865 operating   hand   pumper, an 1894 Waterous steam fire engine,   a 1919   American   LaFrance Ladder Truck from Mankato and a   1932 FWD pumper built by the Minneapolis Fire   Department shop.

Northwestern Casket - 681 17th Ave NE

Founded in 1882.  Wholesale caskets.  Now you can order online. Moved to New Hope in 2006. Today the building is home to a group of creative artists and renamed Casket Arts Building.

Psycho Susie's - 1900 Marshall Ave NE

Tiki is a state of mind. And great pizza.

13th & Monroe - 4 churches on 1 block

A Guinness World Record. Emanuel Lutheran was built in 1899 in Gothic Revival style. In 1904 Elim Baptist built its new structure next door, followed by St. Peter’s Lutheran in 1905 and Immanuel Lutheran in 1911. (Even with 3 Lutheran churches on one block, there are still more Catholic churches in Nordeast)

Railroad yards

I do love the railroad.

Thomas Edison High School - 700 22nd Ave NE

Opened in 1922, Thomas Edison High School is the only public high school in Nordeast. Famous graduates include Lynn Lundin, Joe Dziedzik, Clayton Tonnemaker.

Betty Danger's Country Club - 2501 Marshall Ave NE

Tex-Mex and the Ferris Wheel is all you need to know.

Beltrami Park / Maple Hill Cemetery

Established in 1857, Beltrami Park was originally Maple Hill Cemetery. It's early internees were Civil War casualties. By the 1890's it held over 5000 graves.  It fell into severe disrepair and roughly 1300 graves were moved.  But, today beneath the bocce ball courts, lie roughly 3700 forgotten souls.  A few grave markers and a commemorative plaque to the Minnesota Grand Army dead remain atop the hill overlooking Broadway.

Boom Island

Named for the booms that separated logs that were floated to the island in the Mississippi just above St Anthony Falls, where sawmills cut the logs into lumber.  In 1893 on a hot, windy August day, the greatest fire ever seen in Minneapolis started on Nicollet Island and quickly jumped to Boom Island where 22 acres of lumber was stacked, some piles 40' high.  It all went. Happily, the newly built steel & brick Grain Belt Brewery just to the south and the beer stored in caves along the river survived the flames.  Only 1 died, that of a heart attack, but 23 blocks of Nordeast were gone.  Boom Island became a Minneapolis park in 1982. It is one of the nicest and unfortunately under-utilized parks in the system.

Lowry Dairy Queen 701 Lowry Ave NE

When I was a kid growing up in Lowry, it was a great day when we took a trip to the Dairy Queen.  It meant a 7 mile drive to either Glenwood or (usually) Starbuck and a Dilly Bar reward.  I so wished my little town had one.  Who knew? There was one all the time. (That's me in the reflection bemoaning opening changed to 12:00 PM)

Til next time.  Stay well.

Copyright © 2020 Dave Hoplin

Diversions

   

So now it is this

Sitting in my silent den

Writing bad Haiku

"These are the times that try ones souls" - Thomas Paine.  It's hard not to obsess these days. So I seek diversions from the isolation and the 24 hour news cycle.  Writing Haiku?  Try it. It's pretty easy to compose one  (see above) - 5 syllables, 7 syllables, 5 syllables - but it's not so easy to compose something good.

And there's only so much time that one can spend on genealogy research before your family tires you.

However, one saving grace that never gets tiring for me is my bicycle.  It gives me the opportunity to get outside and both exercise and explore. I love to prowl around the Twin Cities looking for interesting sites, in particular, sites with historical significance.  Here are some places I found interesting.

1.  White Castle #8.  In 1936, White Castle brought fast food to the Twin Cities.  Home of the 5¢ "Slider".  #8 was originally on Washington Ave. It now sits on Lyndale just south of Lake St.  It no longer serves tiny beef? patties on tiny buns, but will soon be the headquarters of the Minnesota Music Archive Project.

2. Christ Lutheran Church, 34th Ave So.  This was the last completed design by internationally famous architect Eliel Saaranen. Built in 1949, it is the first example of a contemporary + ecclesiastical. It incorporates honey colored brick and Mankato stone in its chime tower.















3. Washburn Water Tower.  Built in 1932, one of 3 stone water towers in the Minneapolis, the Washburn Tower sits in Tangletown off 50th St. in South Minneapolis and holds nearly a million and half gallons of water. The story goes that its architect, Harry Wild Jones, while clearing brush was attacked by an eagle with an 8' wingspan. Hence, the eagles adorning the top of the tower. In addition, there are eight 18' "Guardians of Health", one beneath each eagle, to prevent any bad tasting or smelling water from entering the tower.

4.  John Nordstrom Store. Built in 1883, is one of the few surviving wood front 'Mom & Pop' stores in the Twin Cities. John & Tilla Nordstrom were Swedish immigrants and operated the small grocery store through the 1930's.  It remained a commercial store until the '60s.

5.  Lustron Homes.  Lustron (luster on steel) sold pre-fab, all steel homes after WWII, marketed to returning G.I.'s.  There were indeed all-steel with a baked enamel exterior and offered in a few pastel colors. (Note: this is the same exterior as the White Castles - see above). There are several along the east side of Nicollet south of 50th st. The 1000 sq ft home components were shipped by rail to their destination and assembled like legos. Walls, cabinets, vanities are all steel. You hang pictures with magnets. The dropping of federal home subsidies and shipping and construction expense, doomed the company.

6.  Tilsenbilt Homes.  The Tilsenbilt neighborhood in south Mpls  (5th Ave & 40th St.) consists of 28 modest homes built between 1954-1957. It was the first interracial private development in the Twin Cities. "Red-lining" and neighborhood covenants were common in cities throughout the North and Minneapolis was one of the worst. " ... out of over 9,500 single-family homes and duplexes built in Minneapolis between 1946 and 1952, fewer than 20 were sold to African-American buyers". These covenants were abolished in 1953 by the state legislature.

7. Adath Jethurun Synagogue.  "Hear O Israel: The Lord Our Savior is One" inscribed above the Corinthian columns. Built in 1927 at 34th & Dupont, Adath Jehurun was the first Orthodox Synagogue in Minneapolis. The congregation grew, led by Rabbi Albert I. Gordon who fiercely opposed the anti-Semitic hate groups prominent in Minneapolis during that period. In 1993, the synagogue was acquired by the First Universalist Church.




I could do a hundred Twin City historical posts. 

Stay well.

Copyright © 2020 Dave Hoplin

Memories

I'm getting up there in years and I am beginning to wonder when I will become "old".  At 65? I sailed past that and reject that as out of hand.  I really don't think "old" has much to do with "age". As old as you feel? Then I am anywhere in a 40 year range depending on the day.

I think you might cross the threshold into old age when you start spending more time remembering the past than dreaming of the future - and when your dreaming is on behalf of someone you cherish who is younger. Memories become precious.

Memories. A smell or a scent can often bring back a vivid memory. [nerd-alert] "This is thought to be because brain's olfactory bulbs occupy a small area is of amygdala, the same place emotions and memories are processed. All other senses first travel to a brain region called the thalamus, which acts like a switchboard, relaying information about the things we see, hear or feel to the rest of the brain. Scents bypass the thalamus and reach the amygdala and the hippocampus in a "synapse or two." [/nerd-alert]  

So it's not surprising that aroma of baked bread triggers memories of Grandma's kitchen or Old Spice your first boyfriend.  

In the midst of this stay-at-home time I started a "cleaning out".  It didn't last long. I almost immediately discovered a cache of old photos, and that derailed me.  I love old photos, especially those of people I know or knew or those who lived before me and impacted my life. They tell a story. They inspire memories, sorrows, joys, regrets.

Sadness and regret.  This is my mother and her grandson. It's a beautiful fall day. The smell of burning leaves is in air. The Gophers vs. Iowa is on the transistor radio. Grandma is joyous in the company of her grandson, convincing him she could not complete this job without his help.  She once told me, " David. You don't deserve such good kids."  That sentence sticks with me and stirs an uncomfortable multitude of memories. She absolutely adored her grandchildren. Then she died. The kids were 5 and 3. Life can be so unfair.






Anxiety.  A young man is about to go to war. His final home leave before departing for the Pacific. He is anxious but he knows he must remain upbeat and cheerful so as not to cause his family undo stress. But they worry. His beloved uncle shares a story. Christmas is especially difficult. The future is uncertain.
 









Pride and worry. Your kids/grandkids. You love them dearly and worry for their futures.  But you are there while letting go, trusting that they will continue to be the people they have shown themselves to be.

Simpler times. Kids with numerous siblings and a boatload of cousins. The joy of play the joy of work. Opportunities to explore hay lofts, a creek offering countless hours of fun.  Caring for farm animals and learning about life.  The joy of being useful - carrying milk buckets, picking eggs, lifting hay bales, driving well before reaching the age of licensing. And oblivious to danger - moving parts, silos, horses & bulls, running water.





Exuberance. Not living up to expectations - in a good way. The spontaneous joy of making a snow angel or riding a snowmobile at age 85.   Be yourself. Everyone else is taken.











Family. Sadly these gatherings are often at funerals or an occasionally wedding. It's quite amazing how different we are - but they are always there for you. 










Responsibility. When you are a child of a greatest generation parent, you feel a responsibility to live up to their high ideals and sense of duty.  In the end, it is how you lived your life.















Copyright © 2020 Dave Hoplin