When children return

Joe College Grad and girlfriend moved to Minneapolis. It was a saga getting them out of NYC--Joe College drove to New York, helped them pack, and drove them back to the Little Apple. They are looking for jobs and an apartment while they live upstairs with Joe High School, who had been looking forward to spreading out into the empty rooms and having the bathroom all to himself. My deadline for them is September 1, and it is fast approaching, with little movement on either the job or the apartment front.

They seem depressed, adrift, and without a well-thought-out plan. The skills required to get through the University of Chicago or teach first grade in the Bronx do not seem to translate to the real world. Joe's girl has never been outside New York. So this move represents many challenges for her. Let's hope the whole enterprise works.

Washington County, Maine

View of Lubec from West Quoddy Station

West Quoddy Lighthouse

Dennys River, Dennysville

OLGS and I (and an old school friend who joined us at the last minute), visited Washington County, Maine, the easternmost county in the United States. We went to eat lobster, soak up some of the amazing light, and see whether we wanted to buy or build a second home for our sunset years. Those are fast approaching....

The trip was a disaster as far at getting there was concerned, all thanks to Northwest Airlines. We missed the connection in Detroit because of weather, and couldn't even get to Bangor until 11:00 PM, so went to Portland instead and drove to Bangor. Coming home, we landed in Minneapolis 30 minutes early, and then sat on the runway for 40 minutes because lightning at the airport pulled all the jetway and ground crew workers inside. And they lost our luggage on the inbound leg of the trip.

Frustrating, but being delayed did give us a chance to eat at the Eagle's Nest in Brewer. There are large people eating large portions of food, all enjoying the nice view of the Penobscot River. We saw no eagles, but we did see some otters or muskrats swimming against the tide--if such animals actually venture into salt water. Dinner was really, really, good. The menu calls the lobster roll the "famous" lobster roll. It is deservedly famous.

We had lobster every day while in Maine. Interestingly, the best was in Brewer at the Eagle's Nest and on our way home, in Hallowell, Maine, near the state capital in Augusta. There we had some really good lobster stew. Both Bangor and Hallowell are interior cities, and not on the coast. And did I mention that we stayed in the Coast Guard station near the lighthouse?

Washington County is very poor, as it has been since the lumber industry moved west to Wisconsin and Minnesota. Half of the land and buildings are for sale. This makes it good for folks from away, like ourselves. They need our money; we need their lobster and their light and their access to the sea, which is all around them. And in the real estate agent's office, when we acknowledged we were from Minnesota, we received an outpouring of sadness for the victims of the bridge.

Minneapolis Disaster

From the Guardian

It's hard to write about. An interstate bridge less than two miles from my house, and one that I drive on at least weekly, collapsed during rush hour. An unknown (as of 8/2/07) number of people died; there are still cars at the bottom of the Mississippi River. Witnesses said it was like an earthquake--there was a vibration, a grinding noise, and the structure collapsed with no warning.

I don't personally know anyone who was on the bridge, was injured, or died. But I did talk with one colleague whose husband drove on the bridge an hour before it collapsed. She was shaken. Another co-worker sent out an email about a colleague of her husband's who is missing after the accident; if he has died, he leaves behind four children and a wife who is an East African immigrant. My immediate supervisor has a friend whose fiancee was critically injured; the boss left work at noon to go to the hospital to be with his friend.

Why do we have to have disasters like this for anyone to pay attention to the needs and safety of ordinary citizens driving from work, to a Twins game (they lost), or to the shops? It's a cliche, but we are apparently quite willing and able to spend billions in Iraq and elsewhere on imperialist adventures, but we cannot find the resources to repair bridges at a few million each. This is just nuts. And now we will spend lots of money to inspect interstate bridges throughout the country. This strikes me as a case of closing the barn door after the horse has gone.

Despite the posturing of our governor, it was heartwarming to hear the voices of Minnesotans, with their unmistakable accents, talking to the national media. They were earnest, sincere, and wanted to help. Why can't we do this all the time?

Elegy for a tom cat

Tom the cat died yesterday. The heat, his advanced age, and his off-the-charts hyperthyroidism got the better of him. His last few days were miserable. He now rests under a huge white impatiens plant in the flower bed where he spent most of his last summer days and nights, curled up on the wood chips in the shade.

He was a noble beast, huge in his prime, with a lion's big head and powerful shoulders. In his youth he was impetuous, taking on fights that always left him with wounds in his flanks, which some might see as evidence of cowardice, but that I saw as proof of his innate common sense. When he was outnumbered or outgunned, he ran.

He was never a great hunter, leaving that chore, as do his big cat cousins, to his sister. He guarded the perimeter of our house, fending off marauding visitors from across the street in endless stare-downs and with an inch-by-inch plan of attack that wore them down. At times he was more like a dog, wanting to be with people, following them around and begging for love. And he was more accepting than his sister when we took in a stray during a -30 degree spell one January. He was happy to ignore the interloper as long as the gravy train was still running in his direction. Until his last months, when his voice failed him, he had a loud croak that sounded like a cross between a Siamese and a crow. It was unmistakable.

He was a great cat who gave us 16 years of cat loyalty. In a species not known for this, at least among dog lovers, that's really something.

Sweet Sixteen

Remember the summer you were 16? I don't. Was that the summer I went to England by myself, or was it the summer before? Did I visit any of my out of town friends? Can't remember. And I suspect Joe High School won't either. What has he done this summer?

1. Been to swim practice twice.
2. Taken the classroom part of driver's ed.
3. Expanded his living space to two rooms, now that Luis has returned to Mexico.
4. Taken care of a couple of cats, plants, etc., for pay.
5. Lost his bike lock, rendering him immobile.
6. Gotten his ear pierced.
7. Bought the last Harry Potter at midnight on July 21st.

Looking at the list, it strikes me that he is probably typical, although maybe a bit more slothful than some. He is poised on the cusp of adulthood, but still reads Harry Potter. Of course, as soon as he's done, I'm going to read it, too. Just because I can't remember my youth doesn't mean I don't want to revisit it.

College Frenzy

It's started. Joe High School got his results from the AP tests he took this year--one in Chemistry, the other in US History. While we don't brag here at Domestic Tranquility, suffice it to say that he could use the scores for credit or exemption from prerequisites at Columbia or Princeton or Stanford. However, there's the little problem of his GPA in an inner city high school.

Pillsbury Hall, U of M

And an old friend is bringing his kid to check out a couple of local lights in the private college pantheon--Macalester and Carleton. Both good schools. But Joe, with a GPA barely scraping the top 15%, would probably not get in to either, despite the AP test results. These aren't the golden key they once were. But maybe lightening will strike. And it doesn't stop my bursting with pride at my baby's achievement.

Boomer blues

So much going on. Elderly dad not doing so well. Elderly mom coping, but exhausted. Young adult children need money, apparently supporting friends. Enabling sandwich generation parents wondering what to do. Anxiety producing times, but a story duplicated by the millions across the country as baby boomers finally come to grips with reality.

But what's truly amazing is the behavior of the two chief boomers, George and Dick. How can any sane person think that war with Iran would be a good thing, let alone something we could actually win? How does anyone accept with a straight face the juggling that is Dick's characterization of his position as VP not being part of the executive branch? How can one see George as anything more than a cardboard suit when he supports his master's maneuverings in public? And how can anyone see the commutation of ol' Scooter's sentence as anything more than payback for keeping mum?

And this was very, very clever. Scooter was not pardoned, and his conviction is being appealed. This means that he will not be able to testify before Congress for some time--maybe through 2008, because of the pending appeal. If everything goes correctly for George and Dick, the wheels of justice will grind exceeding slow. And the two chief boomers will leave their offices having avoided the reckoning that is surely theirs. It's enough to make one hope that Armageddon is real.

And it's clear from their actions and speach that Mutt and Jeff smoked a little too much wacky weed in those wonderful days gone by. We know that George indulged. We now have pretty clear evidence that Dick was a pothead too, leaving him with only a few brain cells to use to function as Veep. Too bad he didn't smoke more.

Minneapolis vigilantes and taggers

Don't think that all Minnesotans are nice. Exhibit A: Joe High School and about six of his friends, some on bikes and one in a car, parked bikes and car on East River Terrance and went to explore the abandoned box cars that sit on a railroad siding nearby. They left the bikes for a long time, moving on to other parts of the neighborhood. When they returned, the bikes were immobilized by padlocks through the gears. Both bikes and car had threatening notes suggesting that the kids were graffiti artists and gang members and that the note writer had pictures and license plate numbers. Joe is not a tagger--he can barely hold a pencil, let alone manipulate a spray can or fat marker. And there is nothing in the city ordinances that encourages individual citizens to act by targeting relatively innocent teens.

I was furious. Second precinct cops would not cut the locks, as the bike rack was on private property belong to St. Frances Cabrini church. Local neighborhood leaders shook their heads and reminded me that graffiti was a problem in that part of the neighborhood. The church administrator was unaware of any their neighbors taking matters into their own hands. The second precinct community liaison officer was not too surprised, partly because she knew about the neighborhood graffiti problem. But she did want to see the note, leading me to believe that maybe she had an idea. But I doubt it.

In addition to the inconvenience of Joe having his bike unavailable, this cost me work time and $20.00 for bolt cutters after our less sturdy ones broke. And then there are the threatening notes. Stay tuned. This ain't over.

And, lest you think that Minnesota is a totally blue state, remember the past. There's a history of vigilante action in this region that goes back to the beginning and continues to this day. That may be why no one seems especially surprised at or concerned with Joe's predicament.

Gratia Countryman and the Minneapolis Public Library

There was an op-ed piece in the Strib a few days ago by John Gonyou, singing the praises of Depression-era librarian Gratia Countryman. Gratia, the director of the Minneapolis Public Library (MPL) for many years, was unhampered by bureaucrats, unions, and, it seems, city government. She saw a need and she met it. The pull-back from Gratia's expansionist activities began as early as the 1950's, when MPL no longer provided deposit collections for public schools.

Although it would be wonderful to operate public libraries, and MPL in particular, in the spirit of Gratia, John Gonyou's piece is one more bit of romantic thinking about the state of public libraries in 2007. To put it bluntly, librarians missed the boat at least a decade ago, resisting the free, uncontrolled, and unevaluated information provided by the Internet. Because we abdicated management of the information explosion to the technies, the opportunity passed us by. At MPL, we insisted on purchasing obscure print business directories of foreign countries, such as Argentina, that were never used, perpetuating the just-in-case mentality that pervaded collecting at MPL. This is one example of the kind of thinking that contributed to the downfall of a great institution that was stuck in the past.

While being able to point to the existence of a comprehensive business collection, or the activities of an activist librarian like Gratia Countryman, is wonderful, it doesn't pay the bills. The librarians at Minneapolis Public Library committed the great sin of many public servants--we thought we knew better. We didn't.

Cat food, or there's something wrong with this picture

Judy the cat has made a remarkable comeback. It may be that she's getting her meds on a regular basis. But I think it's the shrimp. OLGS buys her the cheap frozen shrimp, chops it up, and squirts a dose of medicine on top. She laps it up. But think about it. Thousands of teenage girls in Bangladesh or similar spots labor over these tidbits. They never dream that the the little luxuries they're preparing will become the lifeblood of an elderly black cat in flyover land.

Minneapolis Public Library merger

The Governor

Let's see if I understand this correctly: RT Ryback, Minnapple's photogenic mayor, has been pushing the merger between Hennepin County Library and the Minneapolis Public Library systems, not because it will lead to an improvement in service for the citizens of Minneapolis, but because it will get the entire issue of MPL off his back. RT has demonstrated, in a variety of areas, that pushing the problem onto someone else is preferable to dealing with it. The current merger talks are just another bit of proof.

The Mayor

Anyway, the merger will cost $4 million. Does RT step up to the plate, offering any material support for the merger that he has been pushing? Nope. The gov., Mr. I-Might-be-Vice President-Some-Day Pawlenty, vetoed this, apparently because it gave no tax breaks to any of his friends in big business. So it's back to the drawing board, with RT put in the spotlight anyway. He only likes that spotlight when he turns it on himself. But let's give the guy credit. He has put himself in a good position to be the savior of the deal, the mayor on the white horse. And if he can pull this off, more power to him. This could be a legacy building effort, and RT would do well to pay attention and make this happen.

Post-Secondary Options in Minneapolis

Joe High School did not get into the University of Minnesota as a 10th grader, an admission that is theoretically possible. The U noted that neither his GPA or class rank fit the profile of admitted high school students. Things have changed. Joe College Grad, who was admitted to the U as junior eight years ago, had similar stats. The difference is that far more kids now apply to this high school program, known as PSEO (or some variation on this acronym, which stands for Post Secondary Education Option). And I bet they apply in larger numbers at least in part because public schools just don't have what they need. In the era of Pawlenty and his gang of tax-hating Republicans, the public schools in this state are shameful for a place that touts itself as an education state.

Anyway, that's why Joe wanted to go to the U--he wants to take AP Physics, which is no longer offered at Minneapolis South. He'll have to come up with a Plan B. Blaming his failure to get into the U entirely on Pawlenty is probably a bit unfair, but is entirely fair to blame the gov for the increasingly limited selection of course options at Minneapolis South.

Al Gore: Quixotic?

Heard Al on the radio tonight. He was pushing his new book, The Assault on Reason. Al may be stiff and wooden, but he is still a breath of fresh air. He spoke in complete sentences, making every word count. He skillfully danced around the interviewer's suggestion that he was calling Current Occupant a liar. And he used words like quixotic.

Although CO probably doesn't know the meaning of that word, and wouldn't use it if he did, it could apply to him if he actually had any whimsy about him. But he doesn't. We are locked in a trial by fire and sand organized by ideologues who are unable to say why we are getting blown up in the desert. They have dug us a hole so deep that no one can figure out how to climb out. That is not quixotic. That's stupid.

Wolfie

Unbelievable! One of the main promoters of the disaster in Iraq, Paul Wolfowitz, has been brought down (finally) by penny-ante corruption. The fact that in some countries he might be considered a war criminal is unimportant. But cronyism--now that's serious.

And the pronouncements by Current Occupant on the matter reinforce my impression that loyalty to one's friends is the most important value, even if those friends are venial, arrogant, and corrupt. Heckuva job.

Boston and points west

Another trip, this time to Boston to visit the old folks. My frequent flyer miles on NWA are getting up there. And, speaking of NWA, Terminal E at Logan, into which Northwest flies, is almost complete. It's only been 15 years.

Signs of the times: on the Massachusetts Turnpike, there are notices every quarter mile announcing the forthcoming toll booths, with an exhortation to provide correct change. However, the signs neglect to tell you the amount of the toll. Am I missing something? Or is this yet another example of "If you have to ask, you don't belong here?"