2015 Trek - Blog #9B - July - - Minneapolis Part II

   And … we’re back!
   The 2nd half of our Minnesota stay began Sunday, July 12, after our re-encampment in Prior Lake on the grounds of the Mystic Lake Casino.  After a quick set-up, we made our way east to Lakeville for the Alperts’ barbecue with a lot of old, OLD friends.  To give you an idea of how old, we’ve carbon-dated all these guys and here’s what we’ve come up with: Steve “Alps” Alpert, first met in 1955 during a kindergarten brawl in which he bit me; Dick “The Ax” Anderson, 1956 1st-grade classmate; Randy “RJ” Johnson, 1968 playground leader co-worker; John Ophaug, 1968 rival high school basketball opponent; and Jeff “Nellie” Nelson, the relative newcomer to the group, with whom I played softball during the late 70’s.  All the corresponding wives/girlfriends were there and were forced to listen to fables and tales of the guys’ that were up to 60 years old and had been told at least 60 times.  What a bunch of troopers our ladies are.
   

Here’s where the blog gets a bit sticky … uh, “stickier”?  That’s because the next morning, we got in Zippy and drove to Menomonie, Wisconsin, to the home of Diedre’s younger brother, Remy, and his wife, Lisa.  The plan was for the three of them to drive Remy’s car to Michigan for a family reunion where they would meet up with DK’s feisty, yet oh-so lovable 91-year old Aunt Jane (see June 2013 Blog) and other cousins while Zippy and I made our way back to Minnesota where I would spend the evening going to see “Jurassic World” without my science-fiction-averse wife.
   Due to this week-long division of Kaye and Stuart, the blog now moves to a new dimension, one of time and space.  No, you have not entered “The Twilight Zone.”  It’s really going to be more like “parallel blogs,” if you will: me from Minnesota and DK from Michigan (as written by me pretending to be her after deciphering her clever, yet cryptic e-mails).  And for the remainder of the Michigan blog, Diedre, Remy, and Lisa will cumulatively be referred to as “Dr. L”.
   Clever, huh?
 

 MI Blog, DK: So, “Dr. L” (see how I did that there?) stopped the first night on our way to Michigan to visit Remy and Lisa’s oldest daughter (Nicole) and son-in-law (Daniel) in Milwaukee. 
 But the not-so-cleverly-disguised-REAL-reason for our deviation in plans was the chance to see grand-daughters/grand-nieces Zoe (pronounced ZO-ee unlike Joe or Moe, not to mention doe, foe, hoe, Poe, roe, toe, and the ever-popular “woe) and Alexis (Alexx still claims she’s named after him although no one on my side will cop to even the remotest of con-nections and in fact call her Lexi). 

Dr. L was given the honor of picking the kids up at school.  I became an instant hit with my four and two-year old nieces when I gave them the gift of “hand-puppets.”  That night the “Bitchin’ Margs” margaritas prepared by me went down quite easily as evidenced by the next day’s reminiscences (or lack thereof) of the night before.

   Tuesday, July 14-MN blog, Alexx:  Now being a “single” oldster on his own, I did what any wild-and-crazy guy would now do with this unfamiliar freedom: I went for a walk around Lake Harriet in Uptown Minneapolis.  The iconic elf was still living in the base of the tree at Harriet, but since DK’s phone is the only camera we own, we’ll have to use the “elf-tree” photo from two years ago.  In fact, unless friends of mine I see have phone-cameras, there will be no pictures submitted by me this week for the MN Blog.  I did go to Walgreens, but they no longer have disposable FILM cameras, so that’s another thing I can add to my manual typewriter/VCR/rotary-telephone scrap heap.
    As is my style every year at this time, I sought out an appropriate viewing locale to watch the Major League Baseball All-Star Game being played in Cincinnati this year.  I put out a “baseball S.O.S.” e-mail and immediately got a response from longtime pal Ellen Joseph and her baseball-nut husband Dennis.  They kindly took care of my baseball-addled addiction by escorting me to “Whitey’s,” a great little bar in Northeast Minneapolis where they had, in fact, held their wedding rehearsal dinner not so long ago.  Ellen and I go back to 1968 and our positions of authority at St. Louis Park High School: her as head-cheerleader and me as captain of the basketball team.
   MI Blog, DK: Dr. L drove all day and got to Walloon Lake, Michigan, that night.  (YAWN!)
 

Diedre trying to help Alexx out with photos

 Wednesday, MN Blog, Alexx:  As any good non-cooking bachelor whose four major food groups are “junk, fast, frozen, and spoiled,” I made my way up to the casino and had their outrageously-priced “seafood buffet.”  From there, I drove out to “Tavern on France,” a swell little bar in Edina where I met up with Carleton College basketball buddy Dr. Steve “O.B.” Obaid.  OB is just three days older than me, so back in November of 1971 when we both turned 21, he, I, and roomie John Trucano headed down to Northfield’s Muni (Municipal liquor store, on-and-off-sale) where we would have our (my) first ever alcoholic drinks.  Remember that this was during basketball season and our coach was a notorious tea-totaler.
   Since our first drink was free, Trucano ordered us both the strongest drink the Muni served:  ”The Minnesota Stump-Puller.”  I’m not sure but I think it had about nine different kinds of liquor in it, plus parts of an old shoe.  And so from that day on, OB and I were known collectively as “The Minnesota Stump-Pullers.”  Coach Thurnblad never caught on.
   Back to 2015.  OB told me that a lot of people think he looks like Ted Koppell.  I said I didn’t see it, that I thought Koppell looks like Alfred E. Neuman.  OB laughed and then said that that morning, a patient told him, “You know who you look like?”
   “Ted Koppell?” OB resignedly replied.
   “No,” said the guy.  “Alfred E. Neuman.”
   

  MI Blog, DK: -What a day!  I did my 3.3 mile walk/jog this morning.  Remy inspired me to try jogging instead of just walking, so the two of us jogged most of the three miles.  (Note that Remy quit going with the slower me after the 1st day).  I then did 100 squats.  (Alexx says, “And then she carried Aunt Jane’s barbells up to the attic before putting in a new transmission in the car.)  Dr. L’s cousins Doug and Christy Speirn-Smith (see 5/24/13 Boulder, CO, Blog) then joined us for a trip to Petosky where we rented bikes and rode 17 miles to Charlevoix.  (Alexx: What is this, a decathlon?)

Doug and Christy

Remy's pictures were better than DK's but he was here too!

   On the 17-mile return trip, my stomach started rumbling.  By mile three, I felt like throwing up.  At mile five, I began hallucinating that I was wearing ruby-red slippers while riding a lion toward a giant green city.  The next nine miles were pretty miserable.  In addition to my intestinal problems, my thighs were screaming at me for being overworked.  Fortunately, Remy and Lisa opined that my bike seat was too low.
   Thank goodness!
   Once my seat was adjusted I started to peddle more easily and my stomach felt better. By the time we finished, I was completely recovered.  We had a lovely evening with Aunt Jane.  Christy made a tasty dinner of flank steak, corn-on-the-cob, and rhubarb pie.
   Nummy!
   Thursday, MN Blog, Alexx:  Living by myself caused me to now really relive my 46 years in Minnesota.  I lined up dinner with longtime next door neighbors Ken Radde and Bonnie Call at a favorite St. Louis Park watering hole of ours, “The Lone Spur,” which still has one of the best happy hours of all time.  We were joined by “The Ax” and Alps.
   I first met Kenny in 1965 on the Park High basketball team.  Later he became my first roommate after college when I moved out of Mom and Dad’s house, and I was there when he began dating Bonnie in about 1976.  It’s now 39 years later, and they’re still dating.  Here’s hoping it all works out!
   After dinner, I thought I’d drive around St. Louis Park, the city of my youth.  I wasn’t sure when I’d get back there again.  Boy, talk about your old home week!  I drove by Eliot grade school where I first met Alps and The Ax; it’s now condos.
   I then stopped by the house in which I grew up, but for the first time since 1958, a family other than ours was residing in it.  I went to C&C Field where I played Little League baseball from 1961-63; thankfully it’s still a ballpark, now with more fields than ever.  And I went down to watch adult softball games at Aquila Park where I played my first softball game in 1968.  I later went on to play on city championship teams there as well as become the city’s athletic director which included running all the adult softball leagues at Aquila Park.  When I left the Parks and Recreation Department in 1978, they gave me home plate from Aquila Field #1 as a going-away present.  I still have it.
   Finally I went to a game at Carlson Park Babe Ruth Field where I last played 49 years ago on our state championship team.  It was eerie watching a game that night at a place that meant absolutely so much to me back in the summer of 1966.  Things are quite a bit different now: there were only three people in the stands (including me) where we used to always have 50-100 people at our games; nobody bothered to coach 1st or 3rd base, something totally unheard of in our era; and one team had just eight players so they took the field with only two outfielders.  The field looked more or less the same, just a bit bigger now, but nobody was talking it up in the infield, just a lot of silence there that night.  That’s something our coach Vern “Bulldog” Willey would never have let us get away with back in ’66.  It was just a whole lot different than when we used to play.  As it began to sprinkle, I headed to the car, cutting their attendance by 33%.
 

 MI Blog, DK:  Christy, Lisa, and I went shopping for dresses for the March wedding and rehearsal dinner of Remy and Lisa’s son Nate and his fiance Ali.  We did really well and had such fun.  Nate and Ali are such a great couple; Alexx and I get the added benefit of seeing them often as they live and work less than a half-hour away from us in Arizona.
    We then went kayaking at Boyne Falls River in the afternoon.  It was great fun albeit a bit treacherous at the onset. We had to navigate a number of fallen trees amidst a rapidly flowing current. In my usual manner, it was not long before I got hung up in one.  Remy rescued me from one tree branch and cousin Doug from another.  Remy had been quite proud that he chose to sit “upon” his kayak rather than “in” it, claiming it would be the more stable of the two.  Sure enough within the first minute of the trip, Remy managed to fall off his.  Amazingly, we eventually ended up back at the car about five miles away with as many people as when we started.
   At dinner that night, Christy and I put together a great spread of leftovers that I challenge any restaurant to match.  We finished the meal with Ben and Jerry's ice cream and our Firewood Bourbon from Montana.
   NOTHING can beat that!
   

During our stay at Walloon Lake, Lisa took it upon herself to organize Aunt Jane’s refrigerator every day.  That’s just her style.  In fact, she re-organized so well that when we eventually did leave, Jane, in her best “Dorothy and the Scarecrow” imitation, said, “I’m going to miss you, Lisa, most of all … my refrigerator never looked so good.”
   
   Friday, July 17, MN Blog, Alexx- Today was day #85 of our RV trip; this year’s adventure was now officially ½ done.  Where the heck does the time go?
Pining away for my wife who was living it up 500 miles away in Michigan, I spent most of the day on the couch eating pistachios and watching “Gomer Pyle, USMC” re-runs.  Fortunately, RJ and Jacqueline rescued me that night as we attended a wonderful (and free) “Concert in the Park” with 60’s-70’s singer Michael Monroe.  That gave me the will to live for another day.

Beautiful Aunt Jane

  
 MI Blog, DK-The official Michigan branch of “Cousin-a-Mania” took place today and it surely was fun.  Cousins Marcia and Connie drove three hours to get here from Holland, MI.  Aunt Jane and Doug lined up a pontoon boat ride for all of us through the good graces of neighbor Pat.  The day was overcast, but the ride was still quite nice.  Everyone had a lovely time.

Remy and Lisa

Cousin Connie

All but DK gathered on the deck after the boat ride

 

Cousin Marcia

 Saturday, MN Blog, Alexx-John Ophaug and I were co-captains of the 1971-72 Carleton College basketball team.  After graduation and law school, John stayed in Northfield where he runs a very successful law firm.  He had recently let me know that our coach, Jack Thurnblad, now in his 90’s, wasn’t doing that well and that I should get down to Northfield to see Jack sooner rather than later.  So along with my mother who had known Jack when they were students at Carleton, we made the 40-mile drive south to see the old coach.
   Once in town, John and his wife Patsy took us over to Jack’s retirement home.  It was great to see Coach who was actually doing quite well.  We told stories, laughed a lot, reminisced, and I brought him up to date about many of his players from my years at Carleton.  It was a great chance to see a man who had meant a lot to me for so many years.
   From Northfield, Mom and I continued south another 30 miles to Owatonna, MN, the town in which my father grew up.  My Aunt Sally is my only relative still living there.  With her two daughters (my cousins), Lesley and Stacy, in town, they had decided to throw a cocktail party to celebrate Sally’s birthday.  It was such a nice time reconnecting with the family and the little town of Owatonna where I had visited at least twice a year for most of my Minnesota life.  As we did in Northfield, Mom and I drove around town for the memories.  We saw my grandparents’ two houses and all the other sites that meant so much to us for so long.  Mom enjoyed it all as much as I did.
 

 MI Blog, DK-Bidding farewell to Aunt Jane and the cousins and pledging to all get together again very soon, Dr. L got back on the road and made the long drive back to Menomonie.  Sad at leaving, I was excited that I would soon get to see Alexx and the kids.
   Okay, the parallel blogs now merge back into one on Sunday, July 19, my mom’s 88th birthday.  Since DK and I would be meeting up that afternoon in St. Paul, I drove to Wayzata to take Mom out for a birthday-breakfast.  We had a nice time.
   I had one very “senior” moment at Mom’s that morning.  I was taking some plates and kitchenware she wanted us to have down to Zippy.  Mom’s apartment is on the 4th floor and it was going to take me two trips.  So after I toted one load all the way down to my car in the parking garage, I then moved Zippy next to the elevator so that I wouldn’t have to carry the 2nd load as far.  And then, after picking up the 2nd load, I seniorly walked right past Zippy at the elevator and walked all the way down to the garage.  Only then did I remember that I had just moved the car up a level.
   As DK and I are often heard to say, “The old guy’s LOSING it!”
 

 DK had attended Remy’s service (he’s a minister) at his church in Menomonie.  Afterwards, she went out back of the church to their Memorial Walk and found the bench dedicated to Barty, her mom.  It’s a wonderfully serene atmosphere and gave her a nice opportunity to commune with nature and feel the great memories she has of Barty.
    From there, Remy and Lisa drove DK to The Happy Gnome restaurant in St. Paul where, surprisingly, the waiters were all quite tall.  I met them for lunch, and after giving them back their deposit, Remy and Lisa returned my wife to me.  AB1 was now, once again, whole.

 

 Our last week in Minnesota was a whirlwind of visits with even more friends and family.  On Monday night, my cousin Stacy brought her big, gentle “Sherman” over to our campground to join us for dinner.  And “yes,” just as DK had vowed, we ordered out for pizza.

  The next day, DK had another chance to see her buddy Jennifer as the two ladies met up to get their nails done.  As Jenn so often says, “Remember to never bite your nails … especially if you’re a carpenter.”
 
 We then drove out to Shakopee to have dinner at Butch and Yvonne Jenny’s summer house.  They’ve become great buddies of ours, but because of Arizona, not Minnesota.  They rent at Terravita, our AZ community, every winter, and that’s where we met them a few years back. Diedre and Yvonne are good hiking buddies and their daughter, Jamie, joins them when she visits.  Butch was a Minnesota softball umpire for years, so we’ve reconstructed our softball history and figured out that there were quite a few tournaments we both were involved in at the same time.
 

 Wednesday was supposed to be two meals out with friends.  Both get-togethers were to be north of the cities.  We first drove to Maple Grove to have lunch with Diedre’s old “T.E.A. Group.”  Don’t worry.  It wasn’t a bunch of ladies sitting around sipping tea and munching on croissants resting on lace doilies.  “T.E.A.” actually stood for “target-equity-acting,” and was a group of actors Diedre helped organize who would get together weekly to help each other work on their acting, the better to aid them all in becoming “equity” (professional) actors.  Today’s T.E.A. Group consisted of DK, Jennifer, and hugely comedic actor and friend, Jack Melberg.  The continual laughs made it hard for us to finish lunch.
   

 From there, we were supposed to have gone on a little further to meet up with Rick and Eileen Nygaard, also RV’ers and a fellow 1968 St. Louis Park High School grad (Rick).  Unfortunately, Eileen called to say that Rick had been bitten by some aberrant Minnesota insect and had to go to urgent-care as he was quite swollen up.  With a free evening thus thrust (“thus thrust”? Really?) upon us, we headed back south to Eden Prairie near where we used to live.  We did our three-mile hike around the always scenic Staring Lake,
 then took time to visit the grave sites of Diedre’s parents, Fritz and Barty. 

From there, it was just a short drive to the site of the house (now just an empty wooded lot) where DK grew up.  We walked the one-acre lot and relived a lot of memories strictly based on location.  Diedre even took a few “imaginary” basketball shots at the tree where they used to hang their basketball hoop.
   We finished our rare free-lance evening with a movie (“Train-wreck”-DK loved it, I thought it was okay) and then had an easy dinner at one of our favorite restaurants, the simple yet always good “Lions Tap” where their burgers are, as DK likes to put it, “To DIE for!”
   The Minnesota days are getting down there.
   

Thursday was a big day for us on both sides of the Mississippi.  We made our way out to Plymouth to have lunch with Ann Gavin at her freshly refurbished home.  Ann is a long-time friend of DK’s who was a bridesmaid in our fabulous 1991 “Hawaiian-Minnesota” wedding at which we actually did serve “fancy Spam hors d’oeuvres.”
   We then had plans to see yet another baseball game that night, this time the “St. Paul Saints” minor league team, so we left Ann’s house early enough to avoid the horrendous Minneapolis rush hour traffic on our way to St. Paul.  
This, however, left us in the Minnesota state capital with quite a bit of time before the ball game, so we did something I’ve always wanted to do: take a self-guided walking tour of St. Paul’s famous “Summit Avenue,” the site of the city’s oldest and largest homes. 

 Architectural walks have gotten to be quite a “thing” with DK and me.  It always makes for a lovely way to pass sunny afternoons as well as get in the rest of our three-mile walks.  The highlight of today’s tour was seeing the “James J. Hill House,” also known as Minnesota’s “Downton Abbey.”  This 42-room mansion was built for Hill’s large family in 1891.  At the time, it was the largest private residence in the state.
   Leaving Zippy on Summit, we then made the two-mile walk to the ball park where we met up with longtime friends Cat Thompson and Greg Belknap.  The new Saints stadium right downtown was surrounded by quite the festive atmosphere as the place was going to be packed that night.
 

 We, in fact, initially hadn’t been able to secure tickets on-line, but Cat came through with four very good seats for the game.  A friend of hers, Julian Empson, gave us his four season-ticket seats just a few rows up from the first-base dugout.  I had heard of Julian years ago when I lived in Minnesota.  He was famous for leading the charge to “Save the Met,” that being Metropolitan Stadium where the Twins played games from their inception in 1961 till 1982 when the new and awful “Metrodome” was built in downtown Minneapolis.  The Met was one of those wonderful small, outdoor parks in the suburb of Bloomington that Julian’s group fought so hard to save.  He has since been the guy behind outdoor-baseball park tours, something we could have used about 30 stadiums ago.  This year he’s even set up a baseball tour of Cuba!
   OLE!

 The festive atmosphere around the ball park included “RAIL-gating” instead of “tailgating” as the park sits amidst an old railroad yard and is also located at the end of the newish St. Paul metro train line.  It was like one big carnival going on all over the place.
   We had so much fun that night.  It was St. Patrick’s Day at the ballpark, so all the players’ jerseys were re-stitched so that their names began with either an “O” or “Mc.”  The first-place Saints continued their winning ways with a 7-1 victory over the Lincoln Saltdogs.  Robert Coe pitched a complete game two-hitter.  A good time was had by all.
  To even things up ballpark-theatre-wise, the next night we made our way out to the wonderful little lakeside town of Excelsior for dinner and a show.  Our niece Becca joined us.  After dinner, we took a nice  walk down to the Lake Minnetonka waterfront.  We then headed over to “The Old Log Theatre,” the longest continuously-run theater in the country.  We were joined by theatre pals Jennifer and Mick Kirkeby as well as buddy RJ and fiancee Jacqueline Watson to see the musical, “Best Little Whorehouse in Texas.”
   Now, I have seen plays at The Old Log since the early 60’s, but this was the first musical I had ever seen there.  Don Stolz, a longtime family friend who had run and owned the theatre since before World War II, loved the hilarious English farces and had unknowingly passed that love on to me.  But Don, at age 96, finally sold the place two years ago.  He passed away last year, so this would be the first show there that I would ever see without him present.  DK and I were interested to see how the new owners were handling things.
   Well, the Old Log has definitely changed.  Although they did an okay job with the show, it was just too different for us, plus they had no mention of Don in the program or in the lobby area.  Sad to say, we won’t be going back.  Times change.
   

It’s now Saturday, July 25, our last full day in Minnesota.  We packed up camp in the morning and then stopped by the casino’s gala “Ribfest” to see what they had to offer.  RJ and Jacqueline stopped by for one last visit.  We wouldn’t be seeing them again till their wedding in the fall.
   

That night we would be returning to Jake O’Connor’s restaurant in Excelsior with my mom, brother, and sister-in-law.  We had been there the night before with Becca and had a terrible dining experience.  It had been one of our favorite places, but that night they failed on so many levels, plus the hostess didn’t really seem to care.  On our bill, I left a note stating our dissatisfaction with the experience.  If you know me at all, you’re aware that that’s not something I do often, if ever.
   Somehow, the manager got wind of what happened and contacted DK by using our reservation info.  He convinced us to come back, vowing things would be different if we gave them another chance.
   And they were.
   After a nice greeting, he surprised us with cash to pay for last night’s dinner.  He then made sure the service was impeccable.  To top it all off, he even comped ALL the liquor for the five of us ($100+ value).  Suffice it to say, Jake O’Connors is back on our good side.  I wish more enterprises did business that way.
   We said our good-byes to the family, then staggered back to the RV camp.  I was so exhausted I collapsed into bed with our two boys, Charlie and Casey.  For me, that was “goodbye to Minnesota” …
   … and then “Hello” to Iowa.
   See you in the cornfields!

2015 Trek - Blog #9A - July1 - - Minneapolis Part I

MINNEAPOLIS: Blog #9-a, Apple Valley
   

    Now we’re coming into Minnesota, a state that is widely noted for two seasons:
     “Winter” and “road under construction.”
        Okay, old joke there.
        We will be in the Minneapolis area for the next 25 days.  It’ll be the longest amount of time we’ll have spent in any city during our three years on the road.  It’s so long, in fact, that we will exceed the amount of time (two weeks) that our erstwhile campground allows us to reserve.  We will, in fact, have to divide our time here into two halves: during the first 12 days we will camp in a county park in Apple Valley, a site we’ve used satisfactorily twice before, and then the final 13 days will see us moving to Prior Lake where we’ll park AB1 at … a casino!
     That ought to be interesting.
     And since if I write a 25-day blog, the “Guinness Book of World Records” people will be knocking on our door to verify “world’s longest blog” (you know how I can go on), so we will divide our Minnesota blogs into two parts, sort of a “prequel-sequel” thing.
     Fair enough?
        On Wednesday, the first day of July 1, we made our way south toward the Twin Cities of Minneapolis-St. Paul (“Twin” cities being a term that always tends to piss Minneapolitans off).  Now, during our travels all the way across the country and back again, I almost always pay for AB1’s gas by cash.  And the gas stations inevitably make me come inside and pay the clerk before I’m allowed to start pumping.
        But NOT SO in the land of “Minnesota Nice”!  When we were just outside of Perham, MN, I offered the girl our usual $200 for a fill-up.  She stared at me like I was from Mars.
     “Uh, no sir, you have to pump your gas first.  Then you pay us.”
     “So … you trust me?” I asked.
     “Well … certainly.  We’re not savages here.”
     And that’s my home state!
  Since this was a Wednesday, “Monday Rules” did not apply.  That meant that after landing at the Lebanon Hills Campground in Apple Valley, we hurriedly set up, then raced off to a nearby city park to meet up with our longtime St. Louis Park pal, Randy “R.J.” Johnson and his gang of seniors.  We then spent a marvelous night at a free oldies-concert-in-the-park headlined by “The White Sidewalls,” a group we’ve been listening to since we were teen-agers.  We have all listened to them for, like, forever.  And even now well into his 70’s, their lead singer can still hit the high notes and boom the low ones.  It was a great night to kick off our Minnesota home stand.

     Besides seeing family and friends, one of the main reasons we were in the Twin Cities was for me to take part in the National Senior Games as a part of my Arizona “Rox” senior softball team.  Loyal blogophiles may remember us from two years ago in Cleveland when we captured the gold medal in the “Men’s 60-and-Over” division.
     Well, we’re baa-ack …
     … only this time as “65-and-Over” codgers.  The main differences between the two divisions are that we now use five infielders instead of four, and electric wheelchairs are allowed on the field.
       Since I hadn’t swung a bat since mid-April, I was thankful that RJ, a resident of Apple Valley, had gotten some of his guys together to take batting practice.  No sense going into the Senior Games looking like a complete fool.

     We were joined for dinner and a campfire that night at the park by Mick and Jennifer Kirkeby, longtime show folk friends of ours from the area.  You’ll surely remember their daughter, Laura, who appeared in our San Francisco blog six weeks ago.  Jenn is an accomplished comedienne and a fellow playwright.  Diedre and I, through our company “Darknight Productions,” even produced one her plays at the Peoria Center for the Arts in Arizona.  Titled “Midlife Madness,” and it proved to be a very funny hit for us.
     Once again Diedre tried her hand at a cookout.  Now our girl is a whiz at formal or casual dinners, but the catch for her is, they have to be INSIDE.  For the 2nd cookout in a row, the moving of plates, food, and tableware from inside to out and then inside again, the dealing with the insects and the weather, well, let’s just say Diedre issued a new edict for future guests at the RV park:
     NO MORE COOKING AT THE CAMP … WE’LL ORDER PIZZA!
     And that’s that!
     The next day Diedre and I journeyed out to the bucolic little town of Wayzata (why-ZET-uh) for lunch with my mom.  After 56 years in the home she and my dad had built, the home where I grew up, Mom has moved on to the loveliest of retirement homes on the shores of Lake Minnetonka, THE lake in the Twin Cities area.  She seems to be doing quite well.
     After a lovely lunch at the Muni across the street (I don’t want to say Mom has been hitting the bars hard, but when we walked into the Muni, everybody in the place hollered, “JEAN!” a greeting much like Norm got whenever he came into “Cheers”), we walked this picturesque little town on the shores of the big lake.  We soon came upon one of those historic markers/plaques that usually tells something about somebody or something of which you know nothing.  However, this one really hit home with me. 

It was a plaque dedicated to the 1959 Wayzata High School basketball team and their coach, Jack Thurnblad.
     Jack had been a teammate of my father’s on the Carleton College basketball team after World War II.  Also, Jack’s future wife and my mom had been friends in suburban Chicago during their high school years.  So my brother and I, even though we lived in Wayzata’s rival town of St. Louis Park, were raised as Wayzata fans.
     The ’59 Wayzata team had a dream season that is the Minnesota version of “Hoosiers.”  Wayzata had lost 24 straight games before Jack became their coach, but under his tutelage, they improved each year so that by 1959, they finished in 3rd place in the Lake Conference, the toughest basketball league in the state.
     Now in Minnesota back then, there were 486 teams statewide, but only one team would be named “state champion.”  It was an incredibly long-shot for anyone to think the local boys could even make it to the tournament, but the kids had faith and were gearing up as state tournament time came near.
The “Trojans” played great, well, BEYOND great!  They swept all the way to the district finals where they upset the regular season Lake Conference champion St. Louis Park Orioles, a team I would be playing for seven years later, 57-50.  But I cheered the loudest of anyone for the Trojans.  They Wayzata did more of the impossible: they defeated the hugely favored powerhouse Minneapolis South team 51-47 in the region finals.  To everyone’s utter amazement, Wayzata had now earned their first trip ever to the eight-team Minnesota State Tournament.
     Just getting to state was a huge deal.  The kids played at the University of Minnesota’s massive Williams Arena, attendance 18,501, but the games were ALWAYS sold out.  The state tourney would get the entire front page of the Minneapolis newspaper’s sports section for all three days of the tourney.  All the games were televised.  To take the title, a team had to win three games in three days, no time off for injuries or rest.  It was going to be no easy feat, especially for a regular-season, 3rd place team.
     In the afternoon quarter-finals on Thursday, Wayzata edged Mankato 57-51, then came back the next night to crush the defending state champion (and the town where I was born) Austin Packers 55-31.  That put “us” into the state championship game against Carlton from up by Duluth.
     Fans had to get in line at 4 a.m. that day to get tickets that went on sale at 9 a.m.  They were sold out within the hour.  But somehow, Jack didn’t forget my brother and me as he held out two tickets for us.  Sure enough, my brother Mark (10) and I (8) would be seeing in person our first state championship game.
     And it was so worth it.
     Wayzata got on a roll and never stopped, beating Carlton 55-41 for the state title.  The impossible dream had come to life.  On the way back to Wayzata, there was a 1,000 car parade waiting for the team at the city limits to escort the victors into town.  Over 2,000 fans squeezed their way into the Wayzata High School gym where Jack was awarded the key to the city.  It was a memory I would never forget.
     And then, 11 short years later, there I was in Northfield, MN, playing basketball for Jack Thurnblad and Carleton College.
     Ah, the memories.
     All right, moving on.
   

 From Wayzata, DK and I drove to uptown-Minneapolis to meet up with our wonderful niece Becca.  Because of work, she recently moved to this area a scant mile away from the townhouse in which I lived during the 80’s.  We first went around Lake of the Isles where Becca and I posed in front of my all-time favorite house (the same one as seen in our 2013 blog).  As I recall, when I bought my first 35 mm camera in 1980, the initial picture I took with it was of this same house.
     

The walk went on … and on … and on.  We showed Becca the marvelous old houses of Mount Curve, the oldest and biggest homes of early Minneapolis that overlooked the new city.  From there, we walked to The Lowry restaurant for what has to be one of all-time best meals ever (of course, that would be a “restaurant-meal,” I’m reminded).  Maybe it was the Bataan Death March of a hike we had been on (total distance slogged: 7.2 miles), but I just raved about my dinner: Szechuan beef tenderloin, pierogies with horseradish, and French fried onions.  It is now on our Minnesota “to do” list for whenever we’re back in town.
     Okay, it’s now Saturday, the Fourth of July.  We put out our usual red, white and blue décor early, then retreated to bed where with my capable helpers, Moe, Larry, and Curly, we planned out the day.

     We had been invited to a potluck party on Maple Lake about 35 miles outside of town.  The hosts were Gary and Julie, friends of my brother Mark and his wife Linda.  Along with my mom, the five of us made the lovely drive out to the lake on this most idyllic day.  Julie and I immediately knew we had much in common as she had once been the owner of “The Rib Tickler,” a local comedy club.  She’s a very funny lady.
     The animals kind of took over that day.  Their colorful bird, “Bingo,” settled in for much of the afternoon perched on Diedre Kaye’s shoulder.  And then as we were leaving for a pontoon boat ride, sister-in-law Linda saved Gary’s dog who had somehow gotten himself trapped on the boat launch.  With the dog back on the boat, the day went on and everyone had a great time.
    

 We ended another great 4th with fireworks in Apple Valley near our camp-ground.  Our buddy RJ, as Apple Valley’s Park and Recreation Director Emeritus, had lined up seats for us in the executive sky box (a few camper chairs with yellow “Do Not Cross” police tape surrounding them).  We were so close, I swear the fireworks were coming straight upon us.
  

 The good times just kept coming.  On Sunday, my Carleton College roommate John Trucano and his Carleton lady friend, Maria Henly, hosted an open house for us at Maria’s charmingly refurbished apartment complex.  The “charm” mainly comes from the fact that in earlier years, the place had been an actual grain elevator. 

  Guests at the party included fellow Carleton classmates John Ophaug and Bob Meller; Cat Thompson and husband Greg Belknap, friends since the 80’s; niece Becca; and from Minnesota softball lore, Dick and Jane Mumbleau.  Dick and I took the opportunity to flash our rings a’ la “Green Lantern” as we’re both members of the Minnesota Softball Hall of Fame.
   

 I mentioned earlier that Diedre and I were in town partly for me to play in “The National Senior Ganes Over-65 Softball Tournament.”  The games were starting on Wednesday, so on Monday, July 6, RJ and I drove to the Minneapolis Convention Center to register for the Senior Games.  We learned that Minneapolis-St. Paul and their surrounding environs would be hosting 9,955 athletes from all over the country.  There would be 19 sports contested at 18 venues.  These games started in 1987 with 2,500 athletes, so you can see how big they’ve become.
     That evening was DK’s and my 24th anniversary, so we decided to celebrate it at the top-rated restaurant in Eagan, “The Blue Stone.”  And as we have done for every anniversary since our wedding, we wore the same clothes we wore on our wedding day (laundered annually, of course).  Ever the fashion plate, DK wore Fizbo (her “Fit-Bit”) with her wedding dress because, as you know, every step counts.  RJ and fiancee Jacqueline had flowers delivered to us before dinner.  The restaurant festively covered our table with varied and colorful glass baubles. 

 And for dessert, we were joined by Michigan pals Jim and Carol Erickson, coincidentally also covered with varied and colorful glass baubles.
     What’s up with that?
        To end the night on yet another high note, we were greeted at AB1’s door by the kids.  Charlie and Samantha were at the top step singing to us nicely.  But Casey, the problem child, had become “Yarn Cat” as he’s always looking for new places from which to surprise us.  As usual, he did not fail.
    In order to get in prime softball game shape, and since I hadn’t swung a bat in competition in two-and-a-half months, I had the Rox come to Apple Valley where RJ had lined up a field and a team to give us a good practice game.  And then to make it a doubly nice evening, RJ hosted a delicious cookout at the athletic facilities’ picnic site.  I think we were now ready to play some tournament ball.
       

The softball National Senior Games were scheduled to be a three-day event.  Everyone would play two games on Wednesday strictly for seeding purposes.  Then the elimination part of the tourney would begin on Thursday and run through Friday.  You were not out of the elimination tournament until you lost two games.  So, we got right to it.
     In the seeding games, we started out hot by pasting a good Chicago team 24-9.  It was an especially good game for me as Diedre had driven the extra miles out to Wayzata to pick up my mom and bring her to the game.  Mom hadn’t seen me play softball in almost 40 years, so I was a bit nervous about not embarrassing myself.  But the Rox were on their game, I got solid base-hits my first two times batting in front of Mom, and the game was over quickly.
     Then, with Mom now on her way back to Wayzata, the pressure ebbed.  Unfortunately, so did the Rox.  We got pounded by the host Minneapolis team 20-8.  That put us in the middle of the seedings for the rest of the tourney.
     To try to get back into the right frame of mind, Diedre and I watched “Star Wars Episode 3: The Revenge of the Sith” where Darth Vader gets his ass kicked.  As you’ll recall, we’re watching one “Star Wars” movie a month for six months so we’ll be ready for the new SW film that comes out December 18.
     Nerds, ho!
   

 The next day was more of the same for the softball senior boys: we romped in the first game, defeating Wisconsin 20-4 before slumping again in a 15-4 loss to Florida.  This meant that tomorrow, Friday, the last day of the tourney, we would have to win five games to take the title, but one loss and we would be out.
     Five games?!
     In one day?!
     For seniors?!
     Who’s in charge here?!
     It had been a little like “old-home week” for me in Eagan as I kept running into Minnesota softball players I knew and had played against in my 20’s and 30’s.  One of my habits since joining senior ball in Arizona has been that whenever I see some players I know before a game, I always walk up to them and say, “Oh, is there an ‘Over-70’ age bracket tourney today?” knowing full well the guys are in their 50’s or early 60’s.  It always gets a laugh.  So in Eagan at the tourney this day, I run into Lou Hastert and Don Carruth, Minnesota all-state players in their day.  After the usual greetings, I smugly said, “Hey, is there an ‘Over-80’ tournament today?”
     No response.
     Then Don pensively said, “Well, I am 79.”
     Guess I better retire that joke.  We’re all getting up there.
     On Friday, the Rox battled well.  Wins over Springfield, IL (15-11); Wisconsin again (2-1 .. yes, that’s right, two to one); and Florida in a revenge game (16-15) put us into the gold medal game against the Minnesota team that had beaten us two days ago.  We would have to beat them twice while they only needed one win to take it all.
     Final score: well-rested Minnesota-9, exhausted Rox-1.
     We did get silver medals.
   
  There was some good news that night for one of the Rox: Jacqueline, RJ’s fiancee from England, arrived at the Minneapolis airport during Friday’s games.  She had endured an unbelievably bad year’s battle with red-tape and government regulations.  I think they somehow thought she was one of the new waves of “grandmother terrorists” trying to infiltrate the country with crocheted-bombs .  But thank God she’s here now; these two wonderful people are now on their way to well-deserved and happy future lives with each other.

     One other bit of news, a little sad for me, was that I decided to hang up the tournament softball glove and spikes.  Oh, I’ll still play in the pick-up games we have in Fountain Hills, AZ, every Thursday morning, but not the weekend tournament games that take up so much of our Arizona winters (Arizona winters?  Is that really “a thing”?).  Beyond some personal issues, I wasn’t really happy playing the “65+” game that puts an extra (5th) infielder right in the middle of the infield in the exact spot where I’ve been hitting the ball for the last 45 years.  So ending it in Minnesota would be the bookend to my softball tournament career that started in Burnsville, Minnesota, in June of 1969.  Plus, it gives DK and me more flexibility and less of a scheduled timeline when planning our RV jaunts around the country.  So, my next time back on the ball field will be Thursday, October 22, 9 a.m.
     Walt and Alan, are you guys up for lunch afterwards?
     On Saturday, we again made our way out to Lake Minne-tonka in Wayzata where Carleton College friends George and Marilyn Mileusnic were hosting a “going away” party for my college roommate, Jim Schroer, and his lady friend Mary.  Now empty nesters, Jim and Mary have put their Lake Minnetonka house on the market and are moving to Fort Lauderdale, Florida, for the usual “Minnesota’s too cold” reasons.  Fortunately for us, we’ll now have a place to stay in Fort Lauderdale on November 6, the night before DK and I leave on my 65th birthday “Panama Canal Cruise of a Lifetime.”
N.B.: If any of you out in the blogosphere want to join us, well all I can say is, “The more, the merrier.”
     On a lovely night at the beautiful Mileusnic lake place, Carleton College and photographs ruled the day.  We first had to have a picture of wayward Jim with all of us there who had slept in the same room as him over the years; that included John Trucano (another of our Carleton roommates), Mary (current roommate and yet another English lady friend of a buddy of mine), and me.
   

 Then, more inclusively, we took one of all the Carleton College graduates there (St. Olaf “students” beware!).  That included the aforementioned John, Maria, and Jim as well as George, Jay Kernan, Dave Beck, and me.  Good fun, drink, and lots of laughs drove the rest of the night.
     That oh-so fun party ends this half of the Minnesota blog.  On Sunday, DK and I were up early to make the change of campgrounds from Apple Valley to Prior Lake, about a 12-mile move.  The new campground was actually a part of the Native American “Mystic Lake Casino (MLC),” a massive complex complete with Vegas style casinos, a nice golf course, an ice arena, a full fitness facility, and an RV park surrounding a very nice small lake.  Once there, however, Diedre and I saw it in a different way:
     MLC is like a Disneyland for smokers.
     Yes, not having to conform to many of the laws of the great state of Minnesota, MLC treats smokers like regular people, not the outcasts and pariahs they have become in regular civilization.  Of course, this was going to be a bit of a trick for my wife whose secret identity is “Asthma Girl.”  Who knows how this will all play out when she is out patrolling the streets fighting RV crime.  To find out more of DK’s fate, be with us next time for Blog-9b, Minnesota, entitled, “The Rooster Crowed at Midnight.”
     Till then …