Sunday Announcement: Today’s featured photo: the late, great Brave Bud Grant!

In memory

CHRIS, “formerly of Falcon Heights, now of beautiful White Bear Lake” writes: “I feel sad today about the passing of Bud Grant. It reminds me of this BB entry I made in 2019:

“Hunted high and low for this photo before the Vikings football season ended. You always find what you’re looking for in the last place you look.

“The young baseball player in the back row on the left is our very own Bud Grant. Before making his mark as a football coach, he was a star pitcher for the Osceola Braves baseball team from 1950 to 1953. Baseball was king in Osceola, Wisconsin in the late 1940s and early 1950s. A game playoff games often drew more than 2,000 fans. As a Vikings fan, I’m glad he didn’t stick to baseball.

“RIP, Bud.”

Department of Neat Things (Gods Division Paper Press)

Gregory J. of Dayton’s Bluff: “‘A paperweight is exactly what it says: it’s a weight that sits on paper, with the result that the paper stays put.’ Classic paperweights were clear glass spheroids with a flat bottom and various objects inside. Some were works of art and others were unpleasant tourist souvenirs.

“Paper precipitators became obsolete in the 1980s after the great paperless office revolution brought about by the advent of personal computers, computer networks and universally compatible data formats. I was joking. That was in an alternate universe. In this, computers were connected to printers, which generated even more paper. Forty years later, the paperless office is still in the works, but we’re getting there.

“What it really did was control the climate in the offices. Offices no longer had windows that opened, and there was no need for fans. The paper mostly stayed wherever it was placed on a desk.

“But are the paperweights gone? Of course not. The older ones have become collector’s items, and newer ones are still being produced and sold as decorative items. They come in all kinds of shapes and sizes. Pyramids are a popular design.

“I only own one official crib because I find that any heavy object, including a rock, works well if my papers get unruly. My prespa was made by, you guessed it, Brown & Bigelow, probably in the 50s or 60s, and it was ahead of its time. It’s a frosted glass stepped pyramid that measures 3 inches by 3 inches by 3 inches and comes with a classic B&B brass and green base. It’s the symbol of Neat Stuff.

An Egyptian pyramid shaped paperweight

“And just for fun, I put together an alternative base that includes color-changing LEDs that transform my paper stock into something that would fit perfectly on the set of some cheap 1960s sci-fi show. “

Four weights of paper in the shape of a pyramid that glow

The vision thing. . . Including: Know Yourself!

EOS: “Subject: The Icky Bug Test.

“I went into the house after shoveling and saw what I thought was one of these
multi-legged bugs (the ones that give me the chills) moving around in the corner of the entrance.

“I squealed on the kitchen floor in my snow boots and grabbed my glass and the plastic wrap that catches the bugs. As I positioned myself for the capture, it moved again and I shivered.

“I carefully lowered the glass over it, slipped the paper under the glass and caught it. (I’m a “catch and release” person.) I opened the kitchen door, stepped outside and knocked the glass over. Instead of an insect, I saw a small, fluffy, gray feather floating up into the snow.

“Silly me! But I passed the Icky Bug test with just a few shivers.

See the world. . . Leading up to: Life as We Know It

Nininger’s Astronomer: “This morning I sat down at my desk to perform a routine task: checking and responding to the multitude of emails that had piled up overnight. Indeed, there were about 200 or so that I deleted without even reading because they were of little importance. Some were from politicians who were basically looking for donations for their campaigns. Others offered to sell me snake oil or other useless gear.

“My peripheral vision suddenly noticed a rapid movement to the left. Outside, a squirrel scurried through the snow, chased across the crisp white blanket by another, slightly larger, but no faster. I leaned back in my comfortable chair, momentarily forgetting the task at hand.

“As I watched them sink into the snow and return in their pursuit, up the tree, back, and reappear at a lower level, up, down, and around again, I wondered at these creatures, a tiny part of God. handwork.

“How wonderfully suited are snow and ice crystals, which we so often complain are a nuisance to our daily activities. However, each of these fits with others, some creating patterns as if their temporal development on the roofs was intentional, rather than just following the thermal laws of physics.

“For some reason, my thoughts shifted to how wonderful nature itself is—how beautiful, how special we are a part of it. Without trying to debate the origins of this wonderful world, I still had to admit that we still have more to learn about it. This world, which houses our very life, could not do so if it were much younger. Indeed, it took more than five billion years for this world, including us, to become what it is. Solar systems younger than ours would not have had time to evolve in such a magnificent place. And we know it won’t stay that way forever. What a time to be alive, in this brief moment in the entire life of the universe.

“I sat down for a bit to think wildly about the world, tossing random thoughts into an almost chaotic place. I found myself back in Colorado, climbing mountains to see what the world looks like on the other side of them. You know, there are 19 of them in Colorado higher than Pike’s Peak. At the top, you can see the world differently than at the base of this incredibly compelling historic mountain. It almost attracts someone like a magnet to an iron body. Then, as I watched the fruitful plains stretch on forever, I sat back, comforted in the knowledge that we were indeed part of this whole/part/whole relationship. And as TS Eliot said: “We shall never cease to explore, and the end of all our explorations shall be to arrive where we began, and to know the place for the first time.”

See the world

Another close encounter with nature, reported by AL B of Hartland: “I shouldn’t have been surprised when a fox squirrel fell from the roof of the house onto a window feeder held in place by suction cups. The result, as expected: the squirrel and the feeder both crashed to the ground, creating a blizzard of fleeing songbirds. Well played, squirrel.

“I should have anticipated the event as the forecast called for high winds, rising temperatures and a decrease in squirrels.”

Keeping your ears open

Email from DONALD: “Subject: That must have been scary!

“A pundit on a cable news show made this comment: ‘It made every hair on my body stand on end.’

“And you thought the hair on the back of your neck was bad.”

Till death do us part. . . Or: The great comebacks

CHERIE D of Inver Grove Heights: “My husband, Jim, has a dry wit and likes to tease me.

“The other day I was hoping to see my mother, who lives about an hour away. While watching the weather forecast the night before, Jim and I overheard the weatherman talking about when the snow would come the next day. I said to Jim, “Well, it looks like I can get to mom in the morning, but then I wouldn’t be able to get back because of the heavy snow.”

“My dear husband’s answer to this? He said, “Well, I’m going to miss you.”

The joy of juxtaposition

BILL OF THE RIVER LAKE: “Subject: What are the odds?

“One of the answers in Friday’s “Wheel of Fortune” was “CROSSING THE EQUATOR”.

“Then, while reading the current issue of The Catholic Spirit, a publication by the Archdiocese of St. Paul and Minneapolis, I noticed on page 2 a picture of Father John Erickson, pastor of Transfiguration Parish in Oakdale, which spanned the equator in Uganda. He was visiting a fellow priest there.

“Just a coincidence? May be . . .”

where we live . . Bad publicity division

Today’s nomination comes from FRIENDLY BOB of Fridley: “Subject: Finally, truth in advertising.

“I saw a sign along Highway 7 on the way to Montevideo. I don’t remember where it was, but I almost missed it completely when I looked over and saw the familiar likeness of Kris Lindahl on it. It read, “Welcome to the Land of 10,000 Billboards.”

BULLETIN BOARD SAYS: “Family” is such a kind way to put it.

Fellow travelers

From KATHY S. of St. Paul: “Subject: Roundabout Ireland.

“Roundabouts have become so common here that we might forget how recently they appeared on our roads. In 1995 I flew to Dublin, arriving in the afternoon and planning to drive to County Galway. When I picked up my rental car and asked for directions to the main westbound highway, the directions included a roundabout, an overpass, and what sounded like a “jewel bay” – none of which I understood because I hadn’t encountered not even roundabouts. back then. I was so hung up on the words he used that I didn’t hear any of the instructions and immediately got lost.

“Various wonderfully patient people explained roundabouts, flyovers (hereafter referred to as overpasses or bridges) and doubled (i.e., split) highways and gave directions. But I still spent at least an hour looking for the main road. Finally, when I asked for directions at a gas station, a kind man put me in touch with a stranger who was headed that way. The second man had me follow him, then went out of his way to take me to the highway so he could point to her. I am forever grateful.

“Of course, this all lasted an hour or two, and now I found myself driving west on the left hand side of a main road in Ireland with evening gathering. Staying in the correct lane proved to be easy enough to do with heavy traffic and large trucks coming directly into my path in the other lane. It was good practice driving on the left.

“Eventually I stopped at a hotel in County Westmeath and asked for a room – with a bathroom if possible. The innkeeper said the room I booked only had a “char” which confused me. She exclaimed, “You sure have them in America!” It turned out to be a shower, which was fine. When I visited the British Isles with a cheap tour group in 1980, single rooms rarely had their own bathrooms – which was a problem because I like to decompress in baths. So any bath of mine was great.

“The next day I arrived in County Galway, where my genealogical relatives trained me in roundabouts and all. When I got back to Dublin, I drove easily to my destination. But until my next trip in 2016, Ireland’s roundabouts twinned. Many of them required me to go straight from one roundabout to another – thus increasing the likelihood of making a fool of myself. If I ever go back to Ireland I’m unlikely to drive there as the car companies don’t rent to the over 70s or charge a huge fee for them. But I’m glad I’ve been able to drive without an accident on my other trips – and that the Irish have been so patient with me.”

BAND NAME OF THE DAY: Falling Squirrels

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