Family Values

'Nuff said.

Luke John Helder is from my mom’s hometown.

And I’ll bet one of my cousins knows him.

Pine Island, Minnesota is about 60 miles southwest of the Twin Cities on US 52, a farming community which I suppose is on its way to becoming a suburb of Rochester. My mom and her four siblings all grew up there; my dad his brothers lived in Oronoco, the “town” next door, and went to school in PI. My grandmother, an uncle, and his family still live there. Pine Island holds an annual Cheese Festival, but hasn’t had a movie theatre in my lifetime. A brother of Walter Mondale was living there during the Carter administration, and the previous most-famous resident was Ralph Samuelson, the inventor of waterskiing. Everyone knows everyone in Pine Island. Helder’s 21. He was probably in either Jamie or Kelly’s graduating class. Mom’s going down there this weekend. I asked her to get the scoop.



Who are the people in your neighborhood?

Everyone knows some people who've had their 15 minutes, but do I know anyone who's crossed my path and then went bad, on a national level? The homecoming queen from the class before mine was sent to prison on drug charges and had her mandatory sentence commuted (rightfully so, IMO). I think that's about it.

a few notes on baseball

I dont have a whole lot to say about baseball, as what little strike-sourness I still carry has been compounded by the contraction and corporate-welfare nonsense going on now. But:



1. The Twins are 13-1 at home. At home. That being the reviled building with the Baggie. Best home record in baseball, in the very building which may lead to the team's extinction.



2. Memorable games Matt Bruce mentioned going to landmark or otherwise milestone games. I don't retain much about what went on at the games I've attended, but I'd have to say the biggest baseball games I've been to were:

4. Red Sox clinch at home against Chicago, 1990

3. Twins clinch a tie for a division share at home vs. the then-formidable KC, 1987

2-1. 1987 ALCS, games 1-2. Still have the original Homer Hanky somewhere.



3. I hate both Chicago teams. The only Chicago sports team I've taken a liking to are the Fire, though I haven't yet been to a Chicago Rush game. But I really dislike both baseball teams, Cubs more so than Sox. I think this stems from growing up, when WGN on cable aired Soap reruns, but they were inevitably pre-empted for losses amongst the ivy, called by a drunken lech. Sox annoy me mostly because of the obnoxious homerism of their announcers. I dislike the Cubs mostly because of their "fans," or should I say the people who pack Wrigley to drink and socialize. It's a bar with live entertainment masquerading as a ballpark. But the asses are in the seats, so they'll be around next season, so matter how sucky they continue to be. And the Wrigely Mystique is beyond me. Give me the grit and scum of Fenway, any day.

Go see Spider-Man.

That's all. Go see it. Now!

My friend Jeff from high school is staying with us for a while as the advance team, finding work and a place before his wife wraps up her commitments and joins him out here permanently. He, Kirsti, and I went out for pizza Tuesday night at Lou Malnati’s, one of the few Chicago-style pizza places I really like. The walls are festooned with an impressive collection of sports memorabilia, including a pretty cool section of scoreboard from the old Chicago Zephyrs. We were seated right under the photo and jersey of Bradley U.-era Kirby Puckett. A skinny little Kirby. Hardly the same little fireplug that the two Minnesotans remember from our youth. The expression on the young Puckett’s face, though, was priceless -- He had that “You gonna eat that?” look. Somewhat disconcerting while dining.

free stuff

The other week I got my premiums from my February contribution to WLUW’s pledge drive. Chalk one up for the college kids, as Kirsti’s subscription to TIME still has not kicked in from giving to NPR’s pledge drive nearly 8 months ago. I got three CDs, which are:



Manic Street Preachers, “This Is My Truth Tell Me Yours” -- Manic Street Preachers were supposed to be this rather firey punkish band, fueled by troubled lyricist/guitarist Richey James Edwards. In 1995 Edwards disappeared, an apparent suicide. TIMTTMY was their first full album since then. And I’m unimpressed. It’s very mainstream alt-rock, bordering at times on arena rock. So maybe I needed to experience the James era to really get the whole MSP thing. I asked this of a friend who’s way into them, and he concurred:



You are correct sir. While I still enjoy much of This Is My Truth (and it

certainly doesn't "suck" you bastard), it's definitely not characteristic

of their work as a whole. The band themselves even disowned it in retrospect,

calling much of it "a mistake." My favorite of theirs, and my fave album

all-time, is their third record--also their last w/Richey--The Holy Bible.

But be ready for a harrowing experience. The lyrics are absolutely brutal

and the music follows suit. It's the sound of a band going to war.

Definitely not easy listening. I love all their records though as I'm just

a bit partial. The first one is great--one of the most ambitious debuts

ever. Also, try 'Everything Must Go', the first album after Richey's

disappearance is extremely cathartic. Fuck, do yourself a favor and get

'em all!!



Okay, that goes on the list, but low. Somewhere after the new Wilco and Paul Westerberg CDs, Vols. 3-4 of Fantoma's Educational Archive DVDs, and the Buffy Season 2 DVDs.





John Lee Hooker - The Best of Friends

This is a 1998 compilation of collaborations from throughout the 1990s between the famous blues legend and his better-known acolytes: Eric Clapton, Carlos Santana, Van Morrison, Bonnie Raitt, and several others. With a roster like that it can’t not be good, especially an excellent “I Cover the Waterfront” with Booker T. Jones on organ -- but there’s something about much of it that smacks of “bunch of white guys straining to maintain blues cred” that just gnaws at me.



Henry Rollins - A Rollins in the Wry

I like this one best of the three. I imagine the former Black Flag/current Rollins Band frontman would prefer to think of this as spoken-word, but it’s essentially standup comedy, including riffs on dating and observational humor at Rite-Aid.



So 1-for-3 isn’t horrible. Better than a silly tote bag, and the premiums weren’t the point of the pledge anyway.

The big fear about the US reforming health care is that a Canadian model will mean we'll be waiting around forever for treatment. But considering I spent three hours waiting around to get 10-minute X-rays today for my followup arm visit, I say: O Canada!



And why, you may ask, didn't I speak up sooner? I did, at the 2-hour mark, but the point is, I shouldn't have had to at all. But anyway, I have x-rays that look just like the other ones, and a pain-free arm to boot, so we'll see what happens tomorrow.



So, interesting reading in the Radiology room today: the only magazines other than Radiology Today or whatever were some newsletters. One was Pallet,, the newsletter of the International Air Cargo Association of Chicago; some gun-rights newsletter by a group that was not the NRA; something by the National Taxpayers Association, and a partial letter from Jerry Falwell asking his sheep to work against a gay-rights bill. All very strange, considering last time I was there, there were a couple of Utne Readers.