KELOLAND.com Blogs

Well, wadda ya know..there’s going to be a bit of Indian Summer after all.

My old colleague, Gary Weckwerth recently commented on Facebook about the political correctness of using that term to describe a burst of Autumn warmth..but nobody’s ever accused me of being too politically correct anyway so I’ll take my lumps if some take offense.

I finally got the yard work done Thursday. Once again the lawn was buried in shin-deep leaves, ours and the neighbors. It’s just killer back-breaking work getting them all raked up and hauled away.

At least that’s what the guys from Peter’s Landscaping said when I was writing out their check. No sir…there may be a recession going on and the government may have frozen our social security payments..but I’m done dealing with that chore forever and will gladly cut expenses somewhere else if need be in order to pay Peter and his all-Russian crew to come over with their riding lawn vacuums and other power equipment that lets them complete the task without even breaking a sweat.

They did it in less than two hours.

Last year, it took Linda and me 2 days..not to mention enduring the embarrassment of making several trips through town to the drop-off site in my old Lincoln..crammed with up to 16 bags of leaves.

Please don’t tell me how the exercise would do me good.

It won’t do me good. In fact, such violent interruptions to my sedentary lifestyle could easily have my body reaching for the heart\off switch and the next thing you know, Linda would be picking out plots for a long dirt nap.

I’ve always had an aversion to manual labor..even before I joined the world of the fat and fluffy.

That’s not to say I haven’t done it. I have. One of my summer jobs in high school was as a block tender for Gross Construction. For those who don’t know what that is..let me enlighten.

You get up at sunrise to face a day in the hot sun hauling concrete blocks..one in each hand.. carrying them over to the skilled mason who would cement them in place. As the wall got taller, the lifts became higher and my arms grew wearier.

“Getting’ a little heavy for ya, there Doug,” Clarence Mast would say with a Pall Mall in his lips and a smile on his face.

“Hard work never hurt anyone,” he’d say.

“Oh no?” “Tell that to the widows of the 112 guys who croaked building Hoover Dam.”  

I thought it but didn’t say it.

To this day I’ve never seen anybody who is jogging or lifting or stair-stepping or any other form of strenuous activity that seems remotely happy while doing it. Red faced, wincing in pain, gasping..yes. Smiling..no.  

Of course it’s possible that I’m just lazy…okay “probable.”

But it’s something I can live with.

Coming home from a road trip and sorting through three weeks of mail is boring; or it was until I came across this little item from my doctor. 

 

Far be it from me to criticize the medical profession (Ha!) but I think there is a case to be made that there are too many tests and too much paperwork.  It’s the best laugh straight out of the bill pile in a long time.  

Why, of course, it was Sanford.  Do they call it the Sanford Smear, now?  I’m kind of looking forward to my visit, too, just out of curiosity.  I couldn’t resist calling the nurse who is, I’m sure, still laughing.  I also give them permission to forego my privacy rights on this one and pass it around the office.  

Definitely LOL!

Sioux Falls airport has embarked on a major redevelopment project. It includes a renovation of the terminal building, and improvements to the runway area. The project will make a great “first impression” on visitors who land in Sioux Falls for the first time.

Architect's rendering of renovations at Sioux Falls airport. (And a depiction of how many residents will use Sioux Falls airport if things don't change.)

To pay for the project, the airport authority intends to impose a $4.50 facility fee on airline tickets. That is certainly not a huge amount compared to the fees charged by other airports I have visited, especially when many (unlike Sioux Falls) have degraded to the condition of bus terminals. But as things are right now, I may never have to pay that fee – because prices set by the major airlines serving Sioux Falls have forced me to take my business to other airports.

Previously, I have written about the dramatic cost savings by driving to catch a flight in Omaha, because competition (mainly from Southwest) keeps air fares there very low.

Now, as I find myself needing to take a trip to Atlanta in January, I have realized that driving to ANY airport in the Midwest will result in better fares than those charged in Sioux Falls.

Here are the actual, lowest fares posted on the web for a round trip flight to Atlanta on Saturday, January 16, returning Wednesday, January 20. Flying on Saturday and Wednesday gives the airlines every benefit, because those are two of the cheapest days of the week on which to fly. Examining the numbers, I was not surprised that it is significantly more expensive to fly out of Sioux Falls than Omaha or Minneapolis. But I was amazed to find that it is much cheaper to fly to Atlanta on those dates by driving to airports in Sioux City, Fargo, or even Rapid City!

---Cheapest round trip fares (taxes and fees included) to Atlanta from six Midwest cities on Jan 16, 2010, returning Jan 20, 2010. Fares posted as of 10 AM on November 4, 2009:

                        Delta                            United             

FSD                566.91                         568.00

OMA               358.59                         346.90            

MSP                224.20                         245.40

SUX                459.80                         -

FAR                 360.40                         480.00

RAP                 320.40                         367.00

Out of curiosity, I checked the price by flying the route backwards, from Atlanta to Sioux Falls on those same dates. Delta charges $20 dollars less for that route. It seems like the only way to get affordable air fares out of Sioux Falls is by visiting one of the destinations Allegiant serves.

I am not a penny-pincher trying to squeeze a nickel. I am not opposed to paying extra money to use Sioux Falls airport. But when the additional cost to “fly local” is in the hundreds of dollars, I object and vote by packing my baggage in my car – and taking my travel business elsewhere.

I fully intended to post this blog on Monday but had to delay because of a phone call I received.

It was from Digger calling to say some of the boys were gathering at the Brandon Golf Course for, what could be our last chance to play this season. So, at 12:30, four of us teed off into a stiff north wind that caused my eyes to water and nearly miss the ball. At least that’s the excuse I’m using. Still, it was great to be out in the sunshine sharing shivers and laughs with friends who love this goofy game as much as I.  In fact, we’re going to try it again on Friday if the weather forecast doesn’t slip into ooops, sorry, mode.

Sadly, the week-long visit by our granddaughter, Zoey, came to an end Friday as we packed up her little suitcase, together with lots of extra stuff acquired from spoiling grandparents, then drove her back home to Lincoln, Nebraska in time for her 8^th birthday party on Saturday followed by Halloween trick or treating.

Just a side note here: If you are an impatient person and easily frustrated, DO NOT..REPEAT..DO NOT travel south on Interstate 29. I was pulling out great tufts of hair as we encountered one construction zone after another. It took a full half hour to get through Sioux City where work has been going on since Eisenhower was president.  Huge chunks of interstate between Sioux City and Omaha are still ripped up. Expect two lane traffic through the winter months and well beyond. I-80 between Omaha and Lincoln remains a sea of orange cones and barrels with speed limits varying between 75 and 50 a dozen times over the 46 miles.

I know, I know, these projects take time but it seems odd that a road crew guy can have a full career working along that same stretch of highway.

Eventually, though, we made it to Cornhusker City and Zoey’s parents were as excited to see her as we were sad to give her back.

Zoey was excited too because Saturday, 12 little girls were coming over to help celebrate her birthday with a dress-up party.

Her dad and grandpas were the only men allowed at this little soiree and each of us had job assignments.

Zoey, the birthday girl, is lower right in the pink hat.

Upon arrival, every little girl received a colorful hat and boa then proceeded to various stations around the house where they would have make-up applied,and get their nails done.(Linda’s job)

Then it was on to the game room where I was in charge of music beginning with a rousing rendition of “Little Sally Walker” in which the kids form a circle with one girl in the middle who skips, sings and dances; “Little sally walker walking down the street, didn’t know what to do so she jumped in front of me, singing hey girl do your thing, do your thing, hey girl do your thing, now switch”.

And, switch they did until everyone had a turn.

I admit to feeling a bit silly..this big old guy dressed in a Nebraska Cornhuskers sweatshirt..singing “hey girl do your thing”..but that’s what grandpa’s with assigned tasks do. Next up I was in charge of the CD player for a game of musical chairs only instead of chairs, the girls passed a purse filled with prizes around a circle. The one holding the purse when the music stopped got to fish around inside and grab a gift.  Unfortunately, I proved to be a lousy deejay because I lost track of which girls had not received a prize; an error that was realized after receiving an icy stare from a pair of big blue eyes about to fill with tears because the mean old guy running the music had passed her by.

Well, I made up for it on the next round and everybody seemed to be happy when they left my station to the one next door where they were making bookmarks.

From there it was on to the photography station where each little girl had her picture taken with the guest of honor to take home. Then  to the bakery station where the kids decorated cupcakes that I had made the night before (Yes, I did!) and everyone sat at their assigned seats..sang Happy Birthday and dug in to the cakes and ice cream.

Daughter, Suzan, makes sure every guest has a candle to blow out. 
That's Zoey's other grandpa, Paul in the background. His job was to dry the girls' painted fingernails with a hair dryer.

 
As I sat in the background watching Zoey open her birthday presents..squealing with delight at each one..I got to thinking about how blessed we are..both as a family and a country that we might experience such privilege and joy. 

It made me realize that life is too short to waste on being aggravated over things like road construction.

But, rather than run the risk of losing that warm/fuzzy feeling, I decided to skip the interstate and take old highway 77 home.

Yahoo, Nebraska is real pretty this time of year.

 
Just a couple hours after the birthday party it was time to change into Zoey's Halloween costume.
She decided a year ago to dress up as "Puss 'n Boots." The look was made complete thanks to some make-up expertly applied by her daddy.

Today our economy is looking up because things aren’t falling as quickly.  Tomorrow, who knows?  If you want a good gauge of where our country has been, the top of the mountain, I suggest a visit to Dearborn, Michigan…Detroit. 

There are company towns, like Lead, South Dakota, used to be in the Homestake gold mining heyday.  The company owned the town, literally.  Then, there are company cities, and that would be Dearborn, the birthplace of the Ford Motor Company, the company that put America on wheels and in the air and put tractors in the fields.  I have to admit awe as I sought out the Henry Ford Museum, as I drive past mile after mile of Ford: Ford offices, Ford factories, Ford test facilities.  I had no grasp of how big this industry was…is, not even when Ford turned in a one billion dollar profit for the last three months.  No matter how far it has fallen, the American auto industry is still a huge presence.  Huge.  Titanic.  Overwhelming.   I’m told the GM and Chrysler complexes on the other side of town are equally overpowering. 

The Ford Museum isn’t just a collection of Fords.  Henry was an admirer of engineering.  Most of the exhibits, like the Kennedy presidential limo are the real deal.  Yes, that Kennedy limo, the one from Dallas.  I wonder what the CSI chicks with a QTip could find in that automobile. 

There’s the biggest steam locomotive I have ever seen, that I have ever stood next to, designed to haul big loads of coal over the Allegheny Mountains. 

 
The Allegheny locomotive and coal tender weigh 600 tons.  I weigh somewhat less.

There are airplanes, if not the real thing, precise replicas. 

And there are more cars, including what is possibly the most expensive car in history, a rare Hispano Suisa that the museum docents…retired Ford workers…fire up for parades from time to time. 
 

The Rosa Parks bus that lit a fire under the civil rights movement is here someplace.

Charles Kuralt’s last “On The Road” RV is here, a 1975 model powered by a Chrysler engine.  The odometer has to include some miles across KELOLAND; Crazy Horse and Korczak, a bill ball of baler twine in western Minnesota, probably even Sioux Falls. 

Word has it that the sculpture and the wordsmith spent a couple of convivial days before getting down to work on that story, and that for one moving shot of the monument-yet-to-be the photographer was pulled in a kids’ coaster wagon.  Don’t know if it’s true, but it makes good lore. 

I’m a museum breezer, I don’t spent a lot of time reading every word, every statistic, but I’m still in this one building for three hours.  I ponder the two hour tour of the famous River Rouge plant where they make F150 pickups, the most popular truck on the road.  I sit in my Chevy Silverado and ponder a trip through the legendary Greenfield Village, but I’ve had enough museum.  They will still be there for another trip by your Road Warrior; reason for another trip, another time.   The open road…peppered with toll booths...is calling.

You can hardly look into any corner of our arcane health care system without finding something that needs fixin.’  Money spent on kids’ castles…albeit donated…that could be better spent on cures, overpriced insurance and drugs and on and on. 

Here’s one more twig for this fire of reform that glows hopefully and then dims depending on the day and who is handing out the biggest campaign contributions; bribes.   This one isn’t even high on my personal list of things that needs doing, just one more twig. 

On the way home from my recent New England road trip, I stopped to visit an old friend who is battling cancer.  I mean “old” in the sense of life-long friend, not age.  Age has never been a factor with her.  She’s in home health care, which is a great program, but with a catch.  Isn’t there always a catch in our health system?

As I understand it, if you’re in health homecare you are, more or less, under medical house arrest.  If you’re seen outside your home, you could lose your home health care. 

The intent is clear.  There are people who would take advantage and flat out commit fraud, people who would use home health care as a cleaning service and party on.

This is hardly the case with my friend.  She is very sick, very, but that is not to say that she is immobile on good days.  She has been very active in her community, the same community in which she has lived and raised her children since I was a third grader…or was it fourth…the same house? 

Knowing her as I do, I would think a short field trip on a good day, a cup of coffee uptown instead of in bed, maybe a lunch with friends, would be therapeutic.  But, under the rules, as I understand them, such an event could leave her high and dry on the bad days; a real life Catch 22.  The solution seems simple since we’re so big on decisions being made by doctors and patients.  Couldn’t a doctor point out that the patient would have difficulty tending to her or himself fulltime, but could stand a little uplift, a bit of R and R, a furlough from time to time? 

Isn’t this an exact example of what the right wing nuts are worried about if the government gets deeper into our health care, the loss of individual freedom and judgment?  Yes, it is.  But I’m still willing to risk it and fix it as opposed to leaving the medical privateers in charge.  A privateer was a pirate who operated with a government license.  In the end, a lot of them still wound up on a gallows. 

Anyway, my friend an I still had a good visit, talking about the politics of medicine and education and the lunacy of life in general.  As gripes go, I doubt if this one is very high on either of our lists at the moment, just another good program that needs some tweaking. 

We all had good Week 7s in the sports department.  I went 11-2, Elsen went 10-3 and McCoy went 9-4.  Only five games separate the three of us and we're about halfway through with the season.

But, like all your favorite athletes, we're just taking it one week at a time, as well as one game at a time.

With that, here are our picks for Week 8.

I’m watching flocks of robins outside my window pane

Gobbling up sun dried berries and shivering  in the rain.

Their instinct says it’s time to leave as they fuel up for the trip

The branches swaying to and fro offering very little grip.

I love it when robins come each spring but hate it when they go

Their arrival means green grass and flowers, their departure foretells of snow

I wonder if they’re nervous about the arduous journey South

There’s an urgency about them as each berry finds each mouth.

The older birds will be out front, when to the skies they soar

Young ones wisely stay behind those who’ve been this way before.

I’d like to fly off with you, and leave all cares behind

To where it’s always summer, worms and berries easy finds.

But I’ll be right here waiting when you fly home once again

I’m the big guy in the window with a Kodak in his hand.