It's Only Rock and Roll...

The city was electric. It was the annual "Taste of Sioux Falls" and although I was only visiting for 2 days, the feeling was palpable. Everywhere I went, from the gas station to the supermarket to the guy working behind the front desk at the hotel where I was staying; everyone wanted to know: Was I going to see Kansas play at the Taste of Sioux Falls?
I wasn't I told them, feigning disappointment. I was only in town to visit family I said, but had I known, I surely would have made room on my schedule for such a momentous occasion.

In South Dakota it mattered little that the band featured only 2 of it's original 7 members and neither one was the violin player who gave them their signature sound on such classics as "Dust in the wind" and "Point of no return." No, the fact that these paunchy, graying 50 somethings were setting up shop on the Menard's stage next to Bubba Tuckers BBQ was good enough for the mostly overweight masses who waited anxiously all year for the 3 days that signaled it was OK to go out and eat with reckless abandon. It was as if the Beatles themselves had reunited and were about to play the entire White Album all the way through and then take requests from sauce stained cards that had been handed out to the audience before the show. It was electric.

I understand it's all relative. I'm sure that someone from Chicago would find the goings on in Minneapolis, the city in which I live, to be lacking and a little "quaint" but I can't remember one person asking me if I was going to see Creedence Clearwater Revival featuring original member Bob Johnson on bass at The Taste of Minnesota. It just didn't garner all that much excitement.

A Walk

It seems like almost overnight the lily pads have bloomed on the lake. Trees and other plant life have exploded along the shoreline, nearly blocking out the view of the water in certain places. With the green leaves and foliage adding new scents all around the lake shore, summer has finally gained a foothold in the upper midwest. As I walk along the pathway, I take off my headphones and notice that the croaking of frogs has increased from a few weeks ago, again I welcome the sounds as a sign of summer's long awaited return. Rounding the corner, I see two familiar families; adult geese watch me intently as their rapidly growing young dig at the ground, eating whatever it is that they eat. I stop on the path about 10 feet away from the feeding geese and make eye contact with the biggest goose, as he seems to be the one in charge of granting me safe passage. I turn my back slightly towards the feeding families as I take my first tentative steps in their direction, watching as the other geese lead their brood a few feet in the other direction. The young never stop eating as they follow. Like every other time, I pass without incident, resuming my normal pace as I look back at them one more time. Ahead, a small wooden footbridge spans a trickle of a stream that flows to the lake. I stop for a minute and marvel at how clear the water is; I've often thought about dipping my bottle into the crystal clear waters but being in the city, I never do. I am covered in shadows now when I stand in the middle of the bridge, only a few weeks ago I was bathed in sunlight standing in the exact same spot. I watch as a big bumble bee zig zags his way through life. When I reach the northeast corner of the lake, I scan the waters close to shore, looking for a giant snapper who likes to hang out in the shallow waters along with his smaller cousins. It's good to see so many turtles. As I leave the path and head back onto the city streets, I put my headphones back on and continue on my way, thanking God for giving me a great day.

"Too much cheese!"

"Too much cheese." Thomas thought as he broke open the burrito that the waitress had just set before him.

As his anger turned to rage, he couldn't understand how the one request he made had been ignored. He was sure he told her light cheese. He was mistaken.

Thomas took his fork and plunged it into the melted mass. Lifting it to eye level, he watched the escaping steam disappear into nothingness as he thought about the slap in the face that had just been served to him on the proverbial silver platter. Thomas dropped his cheese filled fork onto the plate, and used both hands to push the burrito closed, trapping the intense heat inside. Thomas sat there motionless until the waitress appeared from the kitchen.

As she surveyed the almost empty dining room, the cute young woman noticed Thomas politely holding his index finger in the air. As she approached the table, she started to smile, "How is every.." is all she could get out before Thomas picked up the burrito and used his thumbs to push it open from behind. Watching curiously, the naive waitress would have surely turned her head away had she known what was about to happen. In a continuous motion, Thomas pushed the molten cheese to the surface of the burrito while reaching out and smashing the still piping hot weapon into the unsuspecting waitresses face.

Her initial scream was muffled by the melted mass that was now stuck to her. Instinctively, she reached up and tore at the super heated face-bomb, throwing it to the ground along with a good portion of skin that should have been on her lips, mouth and cheeks. "Too much cheese!" Thomas yelled at the top of his lungs as he stood up and watched the badly burned waitress stumble towards the kitchen and the ice kept there.

As he headed towards the exit, screams could be heard coming from inside the kitchen. Cooks, fellow waitresses, even the bus boy gasped in horror when the girl with the burnt face fell on the floor in front of them. As the enraged posse set out to capture the man that turned the waitress from a lady into a monster, Thomas was blending safely into the crowded street outside the restaurant.

"Too much cheese." Thomas thought as he began whistling a happy tune while walking down the sunny sidewalk.

"Too much cheese."

The Rope

The old hemp rope swung quietly from the top of the sturdy tar coated pole.

Time and the seasons had caused most of it’s strands to rot, leaving it practically useless.

A knot tied long ago seemed to grow out of a rusty metal eyelet that had been screwed into the pole by a quiet man who took his life in the summer of ‘29.

It’s home high up on that pole was once a place of honor when it still had a job to do.

Except for a rare car hopelessly lost, that old hemp rope led a solitary existence on the side of that dusty road for the better part of a century.

Echoes of drum beats from 4th of July parades resonated in the smallest fibers of that old rope.

The smoke of a barbeque.

The laughter of a sack race.

Like everything else, like you and me, that old hemp rope had it’s time.

Did the man who broke the silence even look up before he started pulling on the rope attached to his chainsaw?

Would he have made the connection?

Gordy and the Grinder.

It gave Gordy goose bumps to watch the gray grinding machine growl as it grabbed whatever was given to it. He placed a gold star sticker against the grain of the grand granite counter top on which the gray grinder sat. Gordy got giddy when he got up enough gusto to get close to the gray grinder, Gosh!" Gordy grinned, as he gave it green gum drops which disappeared inside the grinder. Wanting to make the day even greater, Gordy sought more glamorous gifts to give the gadget. Sadly there was a ghastly glitch. Gordy got greedy. It was a trait all Grisbys shared and little Gordy Grisby got it too. Gordy got hungry and green gum drops are good when gas in your gut gets to growling. Gordy grabbed for a gum drop but the gray grinder grabbed Gordy instead. "Good God!" Gordy gasped as his hand got ground up on the gears along with those green gum drops he got from his grandpas garage on the corner of Gladstone and Gateway in the city of Gibbstown. When they got to him, green gunk was gushing from the grinder; a combination of gum drops and ground up Gordy. There is a lesson to be learned from Gordy's tale; parents keep an eye on your curious kids around things that could do them harm.

The Art of Toast

I reached in the bag and grabbed two pieces of bread from the middle of the loaf while a series of first class yawns worked their way out of my system. As I turned around and dropped the bread into the toaster I thought to myself that I probably should have washed my hands. "Oh well, it's too late now." I said out loud to no one. Besides, the toasting would kill any germs that I might have gotten on the bread I told myself, not knowing if it was true or not. I pressed down on the lever and the bread dropped out of sight, almost.

I was annoyed as I stared at the top quarter-inch of bread that remained safely above the toasting zone. I asked myself why I let that bother me; I have been using the same toaster for 6 years so it's not like it's a big surprise when that top portion mocks me in cool comfort. Still, it bothered me but I would soon exact my revenge by dropping those smug slices of bread head-first straight into hell.

A smile of satisfaction broke across my face as I heard the tell-tale crackling that signaled bread turning to toast. I was lost in the hypnotic glow of the orange toasting filaments when I felt my cat gently rub up against my leg. When I looked down, she was already moving on to bigger things.

I looked back at the toaster and knew it was crunch time. You see, in my early twenties I learned that the darkness dial on every single toaster ever made wasn't really hooked up to anything. It was put there as a sick joke by toaster engineers beginning in 1907. If you can get a retired toaster man to talk, he'll tell you the same thing but you might have to loosen him up with alcohol and a promise not to tell anybody. So to rely on the darkness dial is pure suicide, only a fool would chance it and I ain't no fool. Instinctively sensing that I was approaching the point of no-toast return, I reached over and raised the lever, ending the process before any real damage could occur.

As I threw the hot toast onto a plate, I paused for a second to admire the perfect golden brown earth tones that now covered the fragile slices. "Look what I've accomplished and I haven't even been up for 5 minutes." I thought proudly.

It was going to be a great day.