Posted on July 27, 2013
I try to visit my son who lives in Fargo, ND, at least once a year. From where I live in Benton Harbor,MI, it takes some planning, since multiple planes or trains are required to get from one place to the other.
That said, I’m spending this weekend doing my annual check-in not only with Kevin but also with the town he calls home. Many people’s impression of Fargo is based on a movie of the same name, but this does an injustice to the real thing. Downtown Fargo, in particular, is charming. Especially in summertime when the skies are almost royal blue, the vegetation is emerald green, and snow is a distant memory.
Today Kevin and I walked about five miles around town visiting cafes and eateries that had cropped up since my last visit. We had fancy coffee at Nichole’s; ate Mexican food from a street vendor, and had a mid-afternoon libation at the HoDo. The HoDo isn’t exactly new; it was here when I first visited ten years ago. But the block where it is situated has certainly changed. Empty buildings have been replaced by trendy condos with wrought iron balconies, and shuttered storefronts have turned into art galleries featuring local artists.
About the only things that haven’t changed are the Fargo Theater where, on the mezzanine, one can find a wooden sculpture of Marge Gunderson, the police chief of “Fargo” movie fame, and a multi-colored fiberglass bison that stands outside the Atomic coffee house. If you visit Fargo and only have time to study one of these attractions, opt for Marge. She’s a hoot.
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Posted on July 26, 2013
Perhaps I’ve written about this before; I’m not sure. But I’m not going to review almost 1500 blogs to check it out. I’m just going to forge ahead. Some things bear repeating.
My topic today is appointments. You know: hair salons, nail techs, massage dates, etc. In this day and age, every office calls me with a reminder that I have to be there tomorrow at such-and-such a time.
Now I’m an organized person, and I find these reminders not only unnecessary but also annoying and time consuming. When I make an appointment, I ledger it in my calendar and I keep it. It’s that simple.
But evidently the world doesn’t work that way anymore. I’ve learned through questioning receptionists that people renege on their pap smears, overlook their dental hygiene, and leave their filled prescriptions at the drug store for days. I guess this is why the reminders have become necessary.
The interesting thing is that my oncologist’s office never calls with a reminder. I’ve been seeing him for over three years. Since I had ovarian cancer in 2010, I’ve needed to check in regularly. I have.
But his staff never sends an email or makes a phone call. This makes me wonder: Does this doctor believe I, as a patient, have an obligation to keep track of my appointments? If so, I think it’s an admirable idea. Or, because it’s all about cancer, are the patients highly motivated to show up in the first place?
I must ask my doctor next time I see him.
See more 10 Minutes in category Changing Scene, Things to Ponder
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Posted on July 21, 2013
It’s Sunday, which means we buy The Herald Palladium and The Chicago Tribune for our evening reading. But what we’ve noticed of late is the paucity of news in both papers. Where once they were filled with various sections filled with columnists’ takes on events, today they are thin replicas of yesterday. I suspect it’s a sign of the Internet times. Or should I say the Internet Times?
I also suspect I belong to a dying breed of reader who likes to hold a newspaper in her hands. She likes to hold magazines and books too. It’s not that I don’t own a Kindle®; but I use it when I’m traveling and don’t want to lug several pounds of books with me. When I’m home I want to hold whatever work I’m reading, flipping pages and feeling the weight of it.
Other, younger readers seem to care less; and I’m not sure why. Perhaps their world is filled with images from a computer or a smart phone and they’ve never enjoyed holding real words in their hands. Knowing that the world is ever spinning forward, I’m sure the time is passed when they will.
It saddens me. Still, I’ll read the bone-thin version of The Herald Palladium and The Chicago Tribune tonight, holding the newsprint to the light, studying the headlines, and remembering what it was like when the printed page was special.
I imagine Gutenberg would be as dismayed as I am.
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Posted on July 20, 2013
Lately I’ve been pondering the difference between ‘strange’ and ‘unfamiliar’. In our hasty world, I suspect we label anything we’re not familiar with as strange when it probably isn’t so. The more likely assumption is that the person, place, thing, or idea simply hasn’t come across our radar before. We don’t know what to think, so we think it’s strange.
Is the label ‘strange’ counterproductive? Well, what if I tell you I saw a strange thing in downtown St. Joe today; would that already bias your understanding of what I saw? I think so.
Perhaps I should say it was strange to me or it was a new experience or simply that I saw something for the first time. Would you have a different opinion of what I was about to say?
Something to think about.
Posted on July 17, 2013
It’s been six days since my last blog. In that time, Earl and I visited Charlevoix and Beaver Island, the former a treasure and the latter an experience.
Earl had wanted to go to Beaver Island since a friend of his raved about it. Looking back, I should have asked what the raves were about; because this friend had teenaged children, loved various he-man toys, enjoyed the outdoors, and probably needed to get away from his small community to relax without anyone noticing if he had an extra beer.
Earl and I didn’t fit any of those categories, but we ventured forth.
Charlevoix is a lovely town where the drawbridge on the main street raises every half hour to accommodate boaters of all kinds. Once you catch on to this, you plan your sightseeing accordingly. The town is also well-situated as a point from which to take various day trips around northern Michigan. We would go back.
Beaver Island, on the other, is rustic. We don’t mind rustic as long as there is a lot to do. But when the best lodging has no telephone, no television, and no air conditioning and paved roads end once you leave the harbor, rustic is close to becoming primitive for our tastes.
Still, I have to concede that Beaver Island has a most interesting history, and it is that which we found intriguing. First occupied by indigenous peoples, it was once colonized by a branch of the Mormons whose leader was ultimately murdered by disgruntled members of his congregation. It also has a large Irish heritage due to the fact that an entire group of non-land owning tenants were expelled from their homes and forced to leave Ireland. They settled in Beaver Island. Four of their descendants graduated from the local K-12 school this past spring.
In winter, approximately 600 hearty souls stay after the boats stop running and the Lake Michigan chill sets in. I don’t know what they do for entertainment during those long days, but I salute them for their hearty constitutions. I’m glad I visited – it was a step back in time – and I’m glad to learn of the island’s history. But we’re crossing it off our bucket list.
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Posted on July 11, 2013
No, I’m not quitting my blog; but I am quitting writing about Delta after today’s blog.
Yesterday I snail mailed Mr. Edward Bastian, president of Delta, giving him a brief synopsis of my issues with his company. I’m sure he’s busy, so my letter was a modest six paragraphs on one page. It condensed two months’ worth of communications. If you’ve read my blogs, you know the story. If you haven’t then, you can catch up by going to the the search field on the left side of my website. Type in “Delta Airlines” and the various blogs should come up.
The bottom line is that Delta refuses to refund half of a ticket that was purchased in May. For a variety of reasons, I disputed the charge with my credit card company, which happens to be Chase. Long story short, Chase is giving me a $200 credit because Delta won’t.
I wanted Mr. Bastian to know that another giant in another industry paid what I believe his company should have paid. Chase seems to value me as a long term customer, while Delta does not. For the record, I’ve had a Chase credit card for the same number of years that I’ve been a Delta Skymiles member.
So, who would you rather deal with?
See more 10 Minutes in category Annoyances, Things to Ponder
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Posted on July 10, 2013
I’m not usually a pack rat. When you’ve moved as many times as I have (34), you learn what to keep and what to toss. I’m good at the tossing. Except . . .
I got this message a few days ago that said my recording capacity on my television was filled. My DVR, as it’s called, can’t hold another program unless I delete some that I’ve saved. So I set to work watching all the stored programs and making choices.
The most recently recorded program was “A Capital Fourth,” the annual live Fourth of July celebration from our nation’s capital. I watched it and hit delete. Didn’t need to see Barry Manilow in close-up again. Or Neil Diamond. Then I watched the 2013 Tony Awards, the annual homage to Broadway. Love that show. Watched it twice, hit delete.
Through the list I went. Deleted that old-time movie “Give My Regards to Broadway” with Jimmy Cagney. It didn’t really hold up under today’s standards. Deleted a documentary about Woody Guthrie on his one hundredth birthday anniversary. It wasn’t what I’d hoped. Deleted Johnny Cash and Dolly Parton and Carol Burnett.
Kept Celtic Thunder’s two annual shows. I love that music. And kept twenty episodes of “The Closer,” one of my all-time favorite TV programs. I suspect, however, that as time passes “The Closer” will succumb to the delete button too. Probably not Celtic Thunder.
So now I have plenty of space to record new programs. But what this taught me is that programs with music are what I like best. I’ll keep this in mind as I begin to fill my DVR again.
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Posted on July 9, 2013
While we’re on the subject, let me recall other jigsaw puzzles Earl and I have done. Once we did all the fish in Lake Michigan. This was relatively easy because each fish had its name under its profile. Another time we did the shipwrecks of Lake Michigan. That was a little more intense, since all sunken ships seem to look the same, while all fish do not.
Then there was the time we did the globe puzzle. Yes, the pieces were rounded, and the finished product ressembled a globe with Africa, South America, etc. where we assume they are. On the back of each puzzle piece was a number. So you could do the puzzle on the front side, struggling to attach Antarctica to various hostile seas. Or you could do the puzzle by the numbers, where the South Pole was #1 and the numbers emanated from there. Guess what we did.
Once when Earl’s family celebrated Christmas in Jamaica we did a three-dimensional puzzle. I can’t begin to explain it these many years later, but suffice to say we finished it because we had many people working on it. Wait, maybe we finished it because Earl’s daughter is a whiz at puzzles and she was the major impetus for this challenge.
We’ve also ordered custom puzzles for family and friends that show the exact location of their homes on a map. We gave one to Earl’s daughter a few years back; if I remember correctly, she finished it overnight.
There’s something seductive about jigsaw puzzles regardless of the number of pieces. Maybe it’s you vs. little bits of cardboard. Maybe it’s you vs. the desire for mindless entertainment. Or maybe it’s you vs. the need for structure and organization. No matter, next time you’re in the neighborhood, come help with the current occupant of our dining table. We always welcome it.
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Posted on July 6, 2013
Earl and I are forging ahead with our 1,000 piece puzzle. In the first week, which ended yesterday, we completed the border and have various segments of the interior assembled. Some of them even hook together.
We’re still enjoying the puzzle, and the person who gifted us was pleased when she saw we were actually working on it. Missions accomplished.
We don’t work like fiends; rather, as the mood strikes we sit at the dining table and work on our masterpiece. Usually we end up putting in half a dozen pieces and then moving on. We’re not on a time schedule either. It will be finished when it’s finished. Then we’re going to invite the friend who gave it to us to come and view the completed picture.
Once she’s admired it, we’ll crunch it up and smoosh it all to pieces. It will be just like it was when we opened it. We’ll return the pieces to their original box, making sure none land on the carpet, and hand it back so she can try it. She will laugh and probably get it done in half the time that we took.
Next Christmas, we’ll likely receive another puzzle.
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Posted on July 5, 2013
Earl and I are planning to visit Beaver Island this month. In preparation, I’ve studied where it is (Two hours off the coast of Charlevoix), how to get there (Ferry), where to stay (Beaver Island Lodge), and what to do. I was helped with this last category by a friend who’d been there more than once.
“The bakery is next to the grocery store,” she said over coffee a couple days ago. “It has excellent cinnamon rolls.” Since this friend and I occasionally share a sour cream donut with our coffee, I took her comment at face value.
She also cited the old light house, the forest preserve, the local museum, and the library with its gardens as “must see” material. I didn’t check, but I suspect most of these sites could be found in a Fodor’s.
But here’s a tip that stands on its own. “The best place to buy a hat,” she said, “is on the main drag across from the hardware store and down a little on the beach side.”
I’m not sure what kind of hat my friend is referring to; believe me, we already own a couple dozen hats from various trips we taken. But the very fact that there is a “best” place to buy a hat on Beaver Island has me curious. How much do you want to bet I come home with one?
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