Good fortune comes in all shapes and sizes, and sometimes travels in a little Mazda pickup. Where it’s headed after a few months is anyone’s guess.
The Border Brothers & One of the Best Stories Ever
“What the fuck, man!”
The other redhead leaned in to look closely at what I held gingerly between my thumb and forefinger.
“I been lookin’ for one of those my whole life!” he exclaimed.
“No, I’m serious!” he said, actually getting upset now. “My whole fuckin’ life.”
He paused, took another good look, then started counting with his forefinger. “One…two…three…four. Ah, man!” He took a step back.
“An’ you’re seriously tellin’ me you’ve never even looked for one before?”
“Never,” I assured him. His face was boiling.
“Beginner’s luck?” I said sheepishly, shrugging my shoulders. “I am part Irish.”
He harrumphed, stepped forward again, took another look.
“Fuckin’ A!” he exclaimed. Then, “Well…” –slapped me on the back – “my whole goddamned life … I guess…. Guess I’ll just hafta keep lookin’.” He backed up, bent down and started looking through the patch of clover again.
Continue reading “Colorado Rocky Mountain Luck”
Does it qualify as “living” when all you do is run to your car, into the front doors of your destination, back to your car and, finally, into your house, no pauses or sidetracks?
Cold enough for ya?
Yeah, it’s been cold up this way the last coupla days.
So cold that 0° sounds – and feels – downright balmy.
I mean, it’s so cold you can throw a cup of water into the air and it’ll turn into a cloud of crystals immediately. As one media type pointed out a couple of days ago, nearly every TV news outlet in the state will demonstrate that little maneuver while we’re in the midst of this freakin’ cold vortex thingy. Too ugly out to go out and find real news.
Let’s just say it’s “triple-dog dare ya” cold. Think Flick in “A Christmas Story.” Come to think of it, we might have just stumbled upon a new phrase for expressing how cold the weather is – “We’re Flicked!”
Continue reading “Ridin’ the Vortex ‘Til the Wheels Fall Off”
UND hockey has a rich tradition of excellence; nine national championships speak loudly to it. Maybe it’s time to support that excellence by vocalizing support for the team that’s on the ice, in the classroom and at the alumni center.
But There’s Sadness at Engelstad Arena
I’ve always been a fan of University of North Dakota (UND) hockey. My father was in school there when I was born, and my folks used to take me to games all the time. Through the years, I’ve been happy when the teams have had success.
There’s been lots of it. According to the National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA), “North Dakota is one of two teams with eight national championships. The Fighting Hawks have won a national championship in all but two decades since its birth.”
But if you’re familiar with UND hockey, you understand how those two sentences describe a sadness that’s hard to miss in the Ralph Engelstad Arena.
NCAA. Fighting Hawks.
Continue reading “UND’s Hockey Team is on the Ice”
This one’s for you, Brah…
In the fall of 2016 my daughter played volleyball for Fargo South. As often happens among road warriors who follow their kids all over state to watch them play, I became friends with another parent.
Dave’s a great guy, always friendly and quick to smile. We sat next to each other for home stands, took turns driving to out-of-town matches and ate way too many Subway sandwiches together.
Continue reading “With Team Parents, It’s Hit or Miss”
This was pretty cool –
Yesterday, I read this story by Marcus Hayes, a reporter/columnist at The Inquirer, Daily News and philly.com in Philadelphia: “Carson Wentz oushines Dak Prescott as Eagles Destry Cowboys.”
The story contained this…
This was pretty cool –
Yesterday, I read this story by Marcus Hayes, a reporter/columnist at The Inquirer, Daily News and philly.com in Philadelphia: Carson Wentz outshines Dak Prescott as Eagles destroy Cowboys.
The story contained this –
Continue reading “New Life for “The Dakota Kid””
A few days ago while on my midday walk with the dogs, when I was on the 1700 block of 15th Street South, I saw what looked like an albino robin.
Can’t be, I thought to myself. I took a double take and watched the bird and several robins fly down from the branch he was on toward the driveway of a nearby house. Must be a white dove, I said out loud. Even if that were the case, it would have been pretty unusual in this area. I’ve never seen an all-white dove in the Dakotas or Minnesota; they’re all grey.
Continue reading “Me, Mark & the White Robin”