Time Marches On

With each passing year it seems that I'm getting further and further from moving at the speed of light. If I understand it right Einstein figured out that as your speed nears the speed of light time slows down (I realize it's really relative time that slows down and so on - but I'm trying to make a point here, not expound on relativity).

When I was a kid, my three month summer vacation seemed an eternity. The elapsed time between Thanksgiving and Christmas was, by my reckoning, about 40 years.

But things seem to be accelerating. I know that the time between this



and this



was about 19 years and 4 months. It felt like 19 months and 4 days.

It seems like only yesterday Barny and I were doing our annual Memorial Day bird count - checking up on the spring migration. And now we've already done the much less pleasurable fall migration - getting the kids to their college homes for the year. It did seem like time slowed down a bit for the Madison migration



which felt like it took days. Oddly, the Iowa City migratory experience was made easier by less "stuff" and a larger workforce.



It feels like the gear was barely dry from our spring boundary waters trip



when it was loaded again for the just concluded fall trip with Harry.



I guess the fact is that time flies like an arrow (but fruit flies like a banana).

Salmon Training Sir!!!!!!!!!!!!

For the past three weeks (and for the next two or three), Peter has been in Naknek, Alaska working at a salmon canning factory. Over that time the highlight of my day has often been the emails he has been sending along, describing the place, the people, the fish, the work, the experience.

Any parent (or at least this one) wants their child to expand their boundaries. To try new things. To experience adventure. To have a crappy job at least once (if only to provide the frame of reference for the jobs to come - which certainly will seem crappy some of the time). To boldly go where they have not gone before (even if lots of others have gone that way). Perhaps the sort of experience that in ages past was provided by a two year "hitch" in the military.



But in this day and age of unilateral "liberation" of Iraq and other related craziness, I can't imagine very many parents (at least not this one) who want their child to join the military. It occurs to me that Peter's summer canning salmon is providing him with most of the good things that I would hope for in such an experience. A very diverse group of co-workers to get along with. Adventure in a distant place. Long days of hard work. Self-reliance (with food and a bed provided). A paycheck.

All in all, I agree with Peter that it beats Famous Footwear. I wonder if I get a discount on canned salmon?

Listening

Most of us aren't very good listeners. I know I'm not. I've been trying, without a great deal of success, to improve my listening skills. I like to tell stories and engage in wordplay. As a result, when I listen at all I often listen with too much emphasis on finding the joke. That is such a big part of me that I probably won't change it dramatically. But I do think I can improve my listening skills.

Yesterday I was talking with a friend who I will call Charlie (that's because his name is Charlie). I asked him if his daughters were joining him at his cabin this weekend, to which he replied that they were both out of the country. This gave me the narrow opening I needed to launch into a discussion of - Peter's experiences in Alaska, where he is working at a salmon canning factory. I'd stood up to go before I realized I hadn't really listened, hadn't followed up on Charlie's comment about his daughters. It turns out one is working as a law clerk in Hong Kong, and the other, a middle to long distance runner, is running in a series of meets in Europe and from there heads to Rio to run in the Pan Am games. Of course this isn't nearly as interesting as Peter working in Alaska, but at least I followed up.

The thing that really got me thinking about listening was not conversations like my conversation with Charlie, it was discussions about politics and issues of the day with my Train Party friends. If there is any group in my life that should be able to engage in high-quality discussions on these sorts of topics, it's us. But even we really don't reason together toward a solution to problems very well. We don't listen and build on one another's thoughts as much as use one another's statements as a cue for simply restating "our" position. It's almost to the point where it is dangerous to say the word "ethanol" in that group if you don't have 20 minutes to rehash the same well-plowed ground (see, I can't even listen to myself - I go for the joke even on myself).

So, when next we are in a conversation, I hope this is what you will see.



But, more likely, it will be this:



But, hey, I'm trying. Some.

Fish and Whistle, Whistle and Fish

It's my opinion that there is little to compare with the joys of lazily fishing from a canoe in a lake in the Boundary Waters. Periods of quiet paddling in an incredibly scenic and peaceful place, interrupted by the explosion of a fish attacking whatever lure you have gently placed in the water. From previous trips together it was clear that Plasticville's esteemed mayor Crown Rudolf enjoys the same thing. We pledged to take a trip north this year to enjoy the woods and especially to test our fishing skills in such a lovely setting.


We took it upon ourselves to recruit another boat of outdoorsmen for our trip - the experienced and wily angler C. Walter Lack, and the relatively inexperienced Cherry Boy, J. Thomas Seymour. Even his name caused problems with the Minnesota fish licensing authorities. Perhaps they were reluctant to license the owner of the "Fighting Bullwhip" fishing rod. And what kind of a first name is "J."? Whatever the reason, it took all of my lawyering skills and $30 of Tom's money to enable Mr. Seymour to ply the waters of Minnesota. But on a Thursday a few weeks ago - off we went to the woods.

This is a Train Party group, so it goes without saying that a contest was established. Actually, three contests. A team contest, with the winning team being the twosome with the most credited inches of fish - based on a scientific, complex and sometimes changing formula. A second contest utilizing the same formula was established to determine the MOST VALUABLE FISHERMAN AND GREATEST FISHERMAN IN THE UPPER MIDWEST. And finally a more subjective contest - the contest to boat the "Most Impressive Fish, All Things Considered." This is the contest which Harry and I have on our fall trips - so I felt duty bound to make every effort to score well in this event.

Our plan to fish in East Pike - in the area where Wein's grandfather, the venerable Doc Johnson, built his cabin decades ago - was thwarted by a large fire. So we diverted to the very west end of the park to Trout Lake. That allowed us to spend a night enjoying the hospitality of my friends the Remicks on Black Duck Island.


And then it was off to Trout Lake - a large lake and one of the few in the BWCA on which motors are allowed. That wasn't a plus - but it worked out fine. Oddly, on Friday when we put in boats with motors were everywhere. But the frequency of hearing motors decreased throughout the rest of the trip. I don't think that was due to any alcoholic haze. Perhaps the changing weather. Who knows.

The highlights of the first day's fishing was the lovely six pound Lake Trout conjured from the waters by Tom "the Snake Charmer" Seymour (so named because of his amazing ability to entice small to medium sized northern's to his lures). Mr. Green added a nice though somewhat smaller laker to the larder, and dinner was secured.


Sunday dawned with snow falling gently - a first for me in the Boundary Waters. I think the variability of the weather is illustrated pretty well by this photo:


When your sandals are snowy, you know the weather is changing. And on Sunday my fishing luck changed in a big way when I hooked a very large northern. Tom Seymour and I had quite a time getting the fish in the boat - but it was really fun to try to land a 40" fish. Unlike the smaller fish I've caught in the past, there was no way to get this one in the boat until she was tired out. So, oddly enough, once in the boat there was little of the thrashing around that I associate with northerns.

After this photo and a couple of others, the northern was returned to the water. I hope that by now she is the proud mother of another brood of fish. Wein followed up my northern with a nice bass, an even nicer walleye and we had the makings of yet another fish dinner. Curt's skills as a fillet master were a wonder to me - and his cooking skills were almost as developed.

When all was said and done, Wein was officially named the MOST VALUABLE FISHERMAN AND GREATEST FISHERMAN IN THE UPPER MIDWEST. There was a small amount of grousing about the fact that his paddle remained a bit on the dry side while he fished. But my man fished for the cycle, catching all four species of fish. The Snake Charmer came in second, closely followed by Curt (who rallied at the end after a pitiful start as his experience and skill began to show). I brought up the rear - too far behind for Wein to carry us to the team championship. But I did win the "Most Impressive Fish, All Things Considered" contest.

Of course everyone was a winner. The fact that you are able to go to a great place with great friends is a victory in itself. Some of life's best moments - a most impressive trip, all things considered.

Washington!

Kate, Madeline and I are exploring the state of Washington. Seattle to start with the gracious hosting of our friends Fred and Mary.



Then north to the Skagit Valley to explore the tulip fields. Perhaps a little different, but all of us actually were pleased with the yellow tulip.






And to do a photo shoot with Kate. We wanted a background which matched her jacket.



We've made our way to the Olympic Penninsula, exploring Port Townsend and the Dungeness Spit - both on a glorious sunny day which is never a given in this part of the world. Here's the view from my seat as we were eating lunch.



The spit is a 5 mile long stretch of sand extending into the Strait of Juan de Fuca (a name we have enjoyed butchering)



The tide was coming in.



And now we are going out to the west coast and Kalaloch Lodge. "Off the grid", as Wein would put it.

COU's and Changes

We have a practice in our family to spot COU's, and on our return from Portland last Saturday night we may have found the Center of the Universe. For us a COU is a person or group who seem to believe that they have found the center of the universe and they are in fact it. Our baggage was slow in arriving as we returned from Portland and everyone was understandably interested in getting their bags and being on their way. There was a 60ish woman who had positioned herself directly below the conveyor which would bring the bags, ensuring that she would be be the first to have the opportunity to inspect the bags as they arrived. On this busy night, bags for more than one flight were arriving at the same carousel.

When bags began to arrive (though not actually from our flight) the COU began removing any of the rectangular "wheel and handle" type bags to determine if they were hers. Green, brown, black, blue - it made no difference (though she apparently knew that her bag was not red, or any other bright color - for those she would leave alone). She would take each bag off, look at it for a while, and then cavalierly dump it back on the carousel as if it was not of any use to humanity. It was clear that in her view the carousel was merely a device put there by the airport commission to convey bags away from her (since it would be difficult and inconvenient to just pile the bags that weren't hers next to her). Finally, after 40 or so inspections she kept a blue bag for a couple of minutes, and we decided the show was over. Wrong. She decided that the blue bag wasn't hers after all and flipped in halfway onto the carousel - leaving it to others to either get out of the way or improve the placement of the bag (which, in the land of Minnesota nice was a process that several people had already begun). An amazing display.

One of the things that I loved about Oregon was our time at the ocean. We were overlooking the ocean at our hotel/apartment.



I suppose we all know that change is a constant in life (at least on some level). At the ocean the process happens about every 6 hours. High tide, low tide, high tide, low tide. The footprints you made in the morning are gone as the tide rolls in. You can explore the rock that you were watching waves crash over a few hours before. The greenery and flower that somehow wash up on shore will probably be washed out again at the next high tide.



It's really an amazing process, and one I always find very thought provoking to be around. When we returned home I noticed that a flowering crabapple tree Kate and I dug the hole for and planted at our old house, one that had grown to probably 30 feet tall and which I enjoy passing every day when I walk the dog, had been radically trimmed back. I was a little saddened by the haircut - but my time at the ocean really helped me to put this change in perspective. Still, I do hope that not all of the "footprints" I've made in my life will be washed away by the next high tide.

A Little Bit of Everything

The three of us have seen a little bit of everything here in the Portland area.

Waterfalls.





I think I saw an "ent" in these woods.



There, see it?



Mount Hood was visible if you got on the east side of it.



And a Haystack at the ocean.



Dunes.



And the view from our room.






Nice.

Hello from Portland

Peter, Kate and I have made our way to Portland. A flight on Saturday night that left at 9:30, combined with daylight savings kicking in made for a slow start on our first day. But we had a really good day kicking around the city. If normal form holds, I'll post a few photos as the trip proceeds. I was struck yesterday by a couple of walls.



Well, not literally. But here's another older one that I liked a lot.



We had been in Nikeville for less than 24 hours and Peter (or "Huck" as I was calling him when he was sporting the look below) had bought 2 pairs, while Kate had only purchased one pair. So far I have held firm. More as the trip progresses.

A Lovely Blizzard

And I'm For ?

This past couple of months is one time of year when I spend a fair amount of time watching sports. Football bowl games, basketball games. Mostly fairly forgettable (other than the Boise State / Oklahoma football classic). But it's something I more or less enjoy. Other than bowl games, I rarely watch a football game unless a team I have a rooting interest in is playing. But I will watch NCAA basketball even if I don't know much about either team. Scouting for my various bets I will have with friends on the upcoming NCAA basketball tourney. The odd thing is, before I've watched for five minutes I am usually rooting for one team or the other.

On New Year's Eve I had a conversation with my friend Amy on the general subject of who to root for in a given sporting event. She has a fairly clear set of football rooting rules which I would paraphrase, perhaps inaccurately, as "always root for Iowa State and Nebraska, and always root against Colorado, Texas, Notre Dame and all Florida teams. " Our conversation got me thinking about what rules I apply to sports cheering. The anti-Florida, anti-Notre Dame rules are tempting, but I just can't make them into rules.

For me it's a mishmash of factors. If there are players on a team that I really like, I will overlook the institution. In last year's NCAA basketball tourney I really liked the way Joachim Noah played for Florida and their general style of play, enough so that I became a fan in spite of a general negativity about the institution and no fondness for the coach.

But generally coaches matter. I like Iowa football because I like the coach. I dislike Iowa basketball for the same reason. And I'm a graduate of the Iowa law school. I have always rooted against Arizona and Syracuse basketball because Lute Olson and Jim Boeheim seemed like sanctimonious whiners to me. But over time my dislike of those teams has weakened.

At some level, institutions matter too. I almost always root for Cal, because I really like Berkeley. I root for Wisconsin because I like the institution (and Madeline goes there). More in basketball because I like the coach and they have a Minnesota kid starting at guard.

I suppose conferences matter too. I tend to root for the Big Ten. Against the ACC and the SEC.

So I decided to become analytical about it, creating a support formula to enable me to make this decision in advance:

Support Rating = .4532(Player Rating) + .314 (Coach Rating) + .17 (Institution Rating) + .1234 (Conference Rating)

I apply this simple formula to each team and determine which team has the higher Support Rating. Then I call Kate, ask her which team has the best uniforms, and root for that team.

Official 2006 Holiday Card

Happy Holidays! Joyful Solstice! Merry Christmas! Happy Hannukah! Best Wishes! Joyeux Noël! Feliz Navidad! Kung His Hsin Nien bing Chu Shen Tan! Glædelig Jul (I've borrowed some new greetings from my friend Richard's emails - for all I know he got them from a grocery sack. I hope they actually mean good wishes)! Gajan Kristnaskon! Hyvaa Joulua! Buorrit Juovllat! Gledileg Jol! Nodlaig Mhaith Chugnat! Buone Feste Natalizie! Natale Hilare et Annum Faustum! Pozdrevlyayu s Prazdnikom Rozhdestva is Novim Godom! God Jul and (Och) Ett Gott Nytt! År Ruumsaid Juulup! Season's Greetings! Peace!



2006 has been a great year for our family. Along the way we've made a number of discoveries that we thought we would share in this Second Annual Official Holiday Blog-Card.

At a lovely summer wedding we discovered that Peter and Kate are a couple of dancing fools. Disco fever has never died out completely in Kate. The prevailing comment at the wedding was that Peter must be adopted, because no child of Stan's could possibly display that much poetry of motion on a dance floor.



Kate and Madeline discovered that $24 no longer buys the island of Manhattan as they travelled to New York City for Madeline's spring break from the UW. They loved the theater, the museums, the people watching and the time together.

In April, Peter, Kate and Stan discovered the wonders of Zion National Park and the American Southwest. We spent the better part of a week hiking Zion's various trails. Peter was the only one of us to complete Angel's Landing, but all three of us had a wonderful and thought provoking time exploring this marvelous country. We also stopped in Las Vegas on Peter's 18th birthday on our way back. There were no stories that particularly need to stay in Vegas, but we did enjoy the Blue Man Group. It was great fun to spend a week together.

After reading a paper she wrote on her educational philosophy, Stan and Kate discovered that Madeline has a thoughtful and refined philosophy of education which will no doubt prove highly valuable to her when she embarks on her teaching career. Unfortunately, her professor was initially less impressed. Madeline discovered that even Professors of Education can be arbitrary and capricious on a bad day. Another valuable lesson - especially since everything turned out fine.

Peter has discovered the joys of college, and an academic environment that involves less busy work and more interesting learning. The University of Iowa seems to suit him very well, both socially and academically. In a perfect world, it would be nice to have both Madeline and Peter about 2 hours away. Instead it's over a four hour trip to Iowa City or Madison. But the world is smaller than it was when we were in college. With cell phones and iChat, Kate and Stan can feel more connected than we otherwise would. And Stan has discovered that providing requested help on papers and other projects is so much more enjoyable than the daily "is your homework done?" hectoring.

At Thanksgiving we rediscovered that 24 pounds of turkey is more than enough for a family of four. Yes there were leftovers. It was great to have both kids home for the Thanksgiving holiday. Madeline, Kate and Stan even attempted the dreaded Friday After Thanksgiving 6 a.m. shopping extravaganza. Please remind Stan that he discovered that he never again wants to experience the joy of this tribute to consumerism again.

One of the year's least pleasant discoveries occurred on a trip to the cottage in late August. We discovered mold in the master bedroom. Fortunately, it hadn't spread to the rest of the cabin. The room has now been gutted, setting up a major renovation project for Stan in 2007. A new metal roof has been placed on the cabin, the sauna and the screen house, ensuring that the roof problems won't reoccur.


As empty nesters, Kate and Stan were told they would have more free time, less responsibility. We have discovered that Greta takes more attention than Peter ever did (which we should have already known). Greta has yet to meet a door she doesn't want to be on the other side of. As a 10 year old dog, Greta is part puppy and part old woman. Still, she does have personality.






Even if life isn't filled with idle moments, the transition to the empty nest has a few benefits. Stan has less trouble finding the remote controls (or at least has no one but himself to blame if he can't locate them). And perhaps the house stays a bit better organized. Kate and Stan have taken up yoga in their spare time. It's fun, but not easy. Our "tree poses" are more reminiscent of the jack pines at the cabin teetering in the wind than a giant oak tree, that's for sure.




By Stan's count, we have "discovered" about 93 times this year that Kate is a great chef. It is a joy to be on the receiving end of Kate's creative approach to food. In an effort to keep the tonnage down, Stan has continued to bike to work year round. Stop and visit any time. You can count on pleasant company and great food.

It can hardly be called a discovery, but 2006 has reaffirmed what we've known for a very long time -

that family . . .





and friends. . .



are the most important thing. Have a great holiday and a wonderful 2007. There's always room at 2134 Carroll. Stop and see us!

Love,

Peter, Stan, Madeline, & Kate