I grew up in a small small town in Minnesota that was basically run by nuns and farmers. Life in my hometown was a place where doors were left unlocked, games were played in backyards not on computers or tvs, people waved when they passed by, the American Flag was honored and a crucifix was not a political statement but one of faith. But, like all things life and times changed.
The world became a different place and the commonly held values and beliefs that I was raised with seemed to become more uncommon as time progressed. This is not a negative statement on progress. I think amazing things have happened over the past 20 years that are magical. Read the rest of this entry »
“The Country” means a hundred different things to a hundred different people. To me, it has always meant freedom.
There’s something about the lack of people and the open space that gives you an opportunity to stretch out and have an adventure. As a teenager that meant the ability to get into trouble without having someone on your back. Blow something up. Build a potato gun and shoot it at cars that whizzed by on Hwy 36. Build a tree house in the woods and use it as a base of operations for pine cone battles, runs to the bootlegger, or a place to stash our Playboy or OUI Magazines (which we pronounced as “O-U-I”, having no idea that it was French).
The country meant that in the summer you said goodbye to your mom at 7am and you got home when the streetlights came on. What you did in the intervening 13 hours was between you, your little brother, and whatever gang of boys you were running with that day. You were 12-years-old. You solved your own problems. You made your own fun. Read the rest of this entry »
In a small town, you have to watch your driving while learning. I crossed the street and someone thought it was too close. As I was putting the key in the door, the phone was ringing, my dad was on it saying “What did you do?”
