Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Meeting:

You are always in a bad mood.

I tried being in a good mood once.

What happened?

It put me in a bad mood.

Driving by the Bruces

I have two wonderful neighbors — both named Bruce — who live across the road from each other. Whenever I pass their driveways, thoughts occur to me, such as: life goes by so quickly that it’s a wonder anyone has time to grow old.

The news from Hartland

Technicolored Sardines, a tropical fish store, opens.

Judge sentences chronic jaywalker to serve jail time online.

Square dancing club presents the war of the whirls.

Chicago

I flew to Chicago for work without once flapping my arms.

I used my see-through suitcase. If I can’t see it, I know I’ve forgotten it.

I folded into a small seat. I became a human origami. I wondered if those in first class were headed to the same place. The plane was packed.

I can go anywhere as long as I remember where I’m from.

The yellow rows of taxis outside the airport have become rainbow-colored.

Parking in Chicago was terrible. It was like finding a noodle in haystack. It took me forever to locate a parking place. I was happy I didn’t have a car. Car owners shoveled their parked cars free of snow. When they moved the cars, it’s a tradition to place lawn furniture, tables, chairs, or laundry baskets in the parking space to hold the spot. This practice of marking a claimed spot is called “dibs.”

Chicago reminded me what horns are for. There was incessant honking and beeping at drivers who were either too cautious or too daring.

I dined with friends at the original Lou Malnati’s pizzeria in Lincolnwood. The iconic restaurant served me Chicago-style deep-dish pizza. I felt at home. On the wall next to my table was a framed Minnesota Twin uniform signed by Harmon Killebrew.

When shaving cream attacks

The rooster had not yet crowed. It was well before 5 a.m. I was trying to shave in front of a hotel mirror that was far too short for me to see my face if I stood upright. I had to stoop over. I pushed the top of a pressurized can of shaving cream. Half the lather shot out. I know what you’re thinking. How old was that shaving cream? I don’t know for sure, but the ‘80s made some great shaving cream. Its age wasn’t the problem. The problem was trying to get the unused lather back into the can.

Pushing the pumpkin down the court

The girls basketball game between the Waterville Buccaneers and the New Richland–Hartland-Ellendale-Geneva Panthers was at Minnesota State University, Mankato. The public address announcer tried to turn the local team into the New Hartland–Richland–Ellendale-Geneva Buccaneers, an idea that would find no support. The Waterville fans presented a gigantic head of their head coach. It wasn’t his real head. It was a cardboard replica much larger than his real noggin. I liked basketball better when a player called for a foul, raised his or her hand. I don’t know when that stopped. The Panthers emerged victorious and when I walked outside after the game, something odd happened. No, I wasn’t abducted by space aliens and subjected to painful probes. What happened was that as I walked to the car, I noticed that I couldn’t see my breath. It was too warm. It was a nice night.

The Hartland Herald

If I had a good neighbor award to give, I’d give it to my neighbors. They epitomize the term “good neighbors” in many ways and they keep my drive cleared of snow. There are few more beautiful winter sights in Minnesota than a plowed road. I’m never sure which neighbor is doing the task as they wear winter disguises.

Did you know?

The U.S. urban population surpassed the rural in the 1920 Census.

Only 17 percent of Americans currently contribute to an IRA.

Nature notes

“Why don’t I ever see dead squirrels? Is there a squirrel graveyard?” I often see dead squirrels on the roads. Sick or injured squirrels likely crawl to secluded spots to die. Squirrels are easily consumed or dragged away by scavengers.