Schmeckfest!

(I wrote this article originally for the Freeman Courier, and it appeared in the March 30, 2011 edition on p. 14)
Freeman, you may not know me, but I know you.
At least I feel like I know you. I’ve made 10 trips to visit your fine city since last November. You may have seen me visiting with the Courier staff, or out and about, visiting with your school superintendents, city officials or local business leaders. So coming to Freeman on Saturday, March 26, to enjoy the 53rd annual Schmeckfest for an 11th visit was a natural extension. Plus it helped relieve my natural curiosity of this festival I’ve heard so much about.
There was a hint of trouble in the air when we first parked about a half-block north of Pioneer Hall. We had skipped lunch to make sure we’d have room for the famous Schmeckfest meal. Our mistake. The smell was so tantalizing we almost skipped the demonstrations altogether and went straight for the meal, but no… A little self-discipline first!
We stepped into the auditorium and were greeted almost immediately by Vernon Hofer. Soon we met Judy Pullman Bittner, who explained what we would find and where, and then tracked down a program for us since we’d missed one at the entrance. On her recommendation, and after we’d checked out the pastries and the pfefferneusse demonstration (and had a sample), we took a seat to listen to Norman Hofer tell “From Plow Boys to Fly Boys – the Waltner Brothers’ Story.” Now neither my wife, Barbara, nor I knew any of the gentlemen Mr. Hofer talked about, but we were both interested in his captivating talk. Plus it gave us a reason to look for the airplane in Heritage Hall Museum.
Next came the main course – the meal. Both Barbara and I are mainly of German descent, but this was new territory for us. We kept reminding ourselves of the advice given to us by several people waiting in line – “Pace yourself.” We waited our turn in the hall, got in line when our number was called and then jumped to the head of the pack when two seats in the middle of a table were available.
What a model of efficiency. Hundreds of people seated and enjoying a family-style meal. Servers dressed in white, hovering over each table of hungry folks with the constant din of mealtime conversation. I was seated next to Dr. Dennis Ries to my left, and on my right, ironically, was another Schmeckfest first-timer and rural Hartford resident, Gary Meyer. So between sipping the green bean soup (loved the vegetables) and munching on the salad, gebratene kartofflen (fried potatoes), kase mit knopfle (cheese buttons), bratwurst and dampfleisch (stewed beef), I visited with my neighbors and Barb across the table. Barb and I agreed afterward that the meal was not so much about the food as it was the fellowship. I can’t remember when I’ve met a friendlier group of people. Every place that we went, every line we stood in and every place that we sat for even a minute we visited with folks from Freeman, Vermillion, Sioux Falls, Hurley and Marion.
It was impressive how many people indicated they come back to Freeman every year for Schmeckfest. After finishing our meal (the meats were my favorite), we toured Heritage Hall Museum – quite an impressive museum for a small town. The rope-making demonstration brought back memories for Barbara of her dad’s helping her brothers with a similar Boy Scout project. And I could’ve stopped and watch the basket-weaving demonstration for hours. Then we made a second trip through the auditorium, bought some pfefferneusse and rosettes, sat down with a cup of coffee and visited with Anita Neufeld and Becky Ebbesen. It seemed like there were no strangers in Freeman. I had high hopes of taking some of the rosettes home with us. They never made it off of the table (thanks to my voracious sweet tooth).
We were also surprised by so many familiar faces in attendance– people from my high school days (at Alexandria), from my work and Barb’s work in Sioux Falls. It was almost like old-home week. It also made me realize what we’d been missing so close to home all these years.
As we sat in the north bleachers of Pioneer Hall, we met Chris and Carol Eisenbeis, and struck up a conversation as we waited for the musical to begin. Like the meal, the musical did not disappoint. Tim and Jeremy Waltner had already warned me that the musical talent in Freeman was first-class. The strong, clear, beautiful voices certainly were every bit as sharp as what you would hear on Broadway. But Larry Schmidt’s and Steve Graber’s performances stole the show as the gangsters. With a little tap-dancing thrown in! The only thing a Broadway production would have over this was softer seats (I hope). Freeman’s got talent, and plenty of it.
We marveled on the road home to Hartford about the food, the musical, and the interesting people we’d met, and the thousands of hours that go into the planning, preparation and conduct of such an undertaking. And we were met with smiles, introductions and stories wherever we went. We made a lot of new friends.
And we decided this much as we drove home late that night. We’ll be back next year for #54.

My big brother mentor

I don't think my brother Roger ever knew how much I looked up to him -- how much I respected him, admired him, enjoyed talking with him. Roger would've been 60 years old this coming May 4, but he left us way too early last May when he was found on the floor of his Mitchell home.
Roger was my mentor. And he was a character. I never realized how much so until his fellow workers at D&E Music and Vending talked about his work life in the days following his death. It was easy to tell how much they also admired and liked him. And how badly they too would miss him.
Rog had so many qualities I would love to emulate. Like Dad, he loved working with wood. If Roger is known for one thing, besides his total devotion in looking after Mom in her widowed years, it was his beautiful, ornate clocks. Rog built several of those beauties -- his first one we still display now in our home but will eventually go to his Goddaughter, Melissa. What incredibly intricate work, what infinite patience, to craft such beautiful clocks. And why didn't I get any of that talent? I have neither the patience nor the talent to hammer two boards together. Ugh.
I think Rog was truly an angel. I know he was in Mom's eyes. For so many years after Dad passed away Roger would come down on Tuesday nights as well as Saturday afternoons and Sundays, and visit with Mom, take her to medical appointments, eat meals with her, look after her well-being and her finances. We left so much of those responsibilities to Rog and he handled them flawlessly. We had nothing to worry about because Rog had our backs.
It became the kids' and my routine to visit Mom and Rog on Saturday afternoons. That usually meant kicking back in Mom's apartment with the Twins game on the radio. We'd visit about the week's activities. I'd get caught up on the week's Daily Republics, maybe watch some TV and before we left there'd be a bowl of ice cream. It was always fun, but I particularly looked forward to our visits when Roger was there.
And anything about electronics or computers meant I was on the phone to Rog. Another quality I loved was despite my calls and probably constant little-brother aggravations, I never once -- never even once -- in all the years remember Rog ever losing his patience, or treating me like I was a pesty little brother. I don't think I even remember him ever raising his voice. He always had time to talk, patiently answering my questions or offering advice. And he knew so much.
And now that he's gone he's left us mementos of his life. But nothing, and I mean nothing, can replace a great brother, mentor, adviser, role model and friend. I'd give anything to have Rog around to call, to reminisce with, to ask questions of, to emulate, to kick around the Twins' chances of winning their division again.
Be ready for us, Rog. I can't wait to talk with you again about the upcoming season.

Seen any good movies lately?

I've never been much of a movie buff. If Netflix, Redbox or Blockbuster had to rely on my business, they'd be waiting in line for a government bailout. I may be the only person alive who hasn't seen "Star Wars" start to finish. Not "Return of the Jedi" either, nor any of the others that followed. I can't tell you much about Luke Skywalker, Obi Wan-Kanobi, R2D2, C3PO, Darth Vader, Yoda, Jar Jar Binks or Jabba the hut. Even though I used to watch the "Star Trek" TV series, I never made it to a Trek movie either. William Shatner is still "Captain Kirk" in my book. And I've never been a big fan of "Batman," "Spiderman," or any of the other superheroes who have landed their own movies. And "Gone With the Wind?" I've yet to see that. Frankly Scarlett, I don't give a darn.
But this past Christmas Melissa gave us a trial subscription to Netflix, and so we've joined the movie generation. It spurred me to buy a Wii (which totally surprised Barbara) so we could stream our movies. And now that my studies are nearly over, we've had more time to watch movies. Some have been good, some not so good. But a movie spent cuddling with my wife on the sofa is never a bad investment of time.
I can remember very few movies from childhood. One of the few that stand out is "The Sound of Music," which I saw in Sioux Falls with Mom. We must've gone there shopping as I recall our going to the State Theater to see it. There are some other dim memories of movies like "Old Yeller." But then Rog and I -- in our teen years -- would head to Mitchell when the newest vampire flick came out starring Bela Lugosi as Dracula. We were up for a good scare back then. Nowadays? Not so much.
For me it's very hard to invest time in a TV movie or show, but there are some movies over the years that, no matter how often I've seen them (and some of them I've seen 20 or more times) I will stop what I'm doing, sit down and watch them again. But then again there are other movies I've liked but don't care to see more than once. What makes a movie our favorite? Great acting? The plot? Location? Favorite actors?
Some of my faves are epics, like "Ben Hur" with Charlton Heston. The story and biblical time period are fascinating, the music compelling, and the chariot race a classic. A particularly memorable scene is Ben Hur's attempt to give water to Jesus on the path to crucifixion -- an emotional story charged and revered by millions of Christians. Ben Hur has my vote for the greatest movie ever. What gets your vote?
Another favorite is "The Birds" by Alfred Hitchcock. Can't say I'm a big Alfred Hitchcock fan, but the mystery of this movie and the horror gripped me, and I still enjoy watching it to this day, particularly the eerie ending. "Jurassic Park" is another favorite of the same thriller type. But probably my favorite thriller movie of all is "Jaws." When it came out in 1975 it scared the bejeebers out of us in theater when the man's head popped through the hole in his boat; he was missing one eye. And a favorite line was by Roy Scheider after seeing the shark up close: "You're gonna need a bigger boat."
One movie often mentioned as a favorite by movie-goers is "The Shawshank Redemption." I've never been able to explain why I like this movie, but the story of an unjustly-jailed man who befriends a convict and eventually digs his way to freedom and a new life is another gripping tale. And I love Morgan Freeman's quote to "Get busy livin' or get busy dyin'."
And then, some of my favorite movies are just plain dumb. Yeah, "Dumb and Dumber" is on top of that list. "Napolean Dynamite" is too, along with "Men in Black" and "The Blues Brothers." I rarely buy a movie DVD and so when I do it's usually one I will watch over and over. And I have all of these in my DVD collection. The same goes for "A League of Their Own," with another favorite quote from Tom Hanks: "You're crying? There's no crying in baseball."
You may not expect "Pee Wee's Big Adventure" to make the list, but I think Pee Wee's eccentricities and the special effects made this an addition to my DVD library. I would play and replay Large Marge's expression for the kids (and for me). Remember that one?
Probably the only movie I've ever seen more than once in theater is "Saving Private Ryan." It is a gripping tale and a good -- if extremely graphic -- story of the horrors and the price of war. And it makes you think.
There are so many more movies I could mention. I still can't explain what makes a movie a favorite -- story line, or special effects, or great acting. Maybe it's simply laughing or crying -- sharing an emotion -- with friends or family. Or maybe it's just cuddling up with someone you love.

The Boys of Summer

It's almost that time of year when I can say 'so long' to the treadmill and get outside to run in the fresh air and sunshine. I love spring. It's my favorite time of year -- by far. The days are getting longer and warmer, the snow is melting, the lawn reappearing. It's too early to worry about cutting grass, and too early for dandelions to be popping up.
My brother Roger loved spring. I don't remember that he was a major sports fan until the last several years when he became a loyal Twins follower. Rog would write to Pat and I about how the Twins were doing this spring... what their chances were... who was hitting or pitching well. He became a bigger fan than I was, turning on Mom's transistor radio and bringing me up-to-date on the score when the kids and I would make our usual Saturday afternoon excursion to Grandma's. And then later, when we would visit Mom at Brady Home, chances are a baseball game would be on TV, and not that Mom was a sports fan, but Rog enjoyed it. I don't recall if he ever saw a Twins game in person, although he may have seen other major league games when he was younger. I always marveled that Rog -- who never showed much interest in sports before -- became such a Twins fan in his 50s. It was our way of connecting and we stayed close, as we did with Pat too, who shared our love for sports.
I became hooked on baseball and the Twins when Dad took me on a Farmers Union bus tour to the Twin Cities when I was about 10. It was larger than life for a kid from a small South Dakota town to visit the big city. And that first glimpse of Metropolitan Stadium was awesome! Watching the Twins beat the Detroit Tigers at old Metropolitan Stadium was a surreal experience for a starry-eyed sports-crazy kid like me. I got to see my heroes -- Earl Battey, Tony Oliva, Harmon Killebrew, Don Mincher and the rest of the Twins gang. I don't remember the year, but the fact that Dad -- who was not a sports fan -- did this for me was something I never forgot. I remember that Nick Wenande and Mike went along too. It was great fun sharing the experience with a friend of mine. Since then I've seen a dozen or more major league games at the Metrodome, the Kingdome in Seattle, Kaufman Stadium (formerly Royals Stadium) in Kansas City, and US Cellular Field in Chicago. They've all been great experiences, but there's nothing like your first major league game. Mom even embroidered "Twins" on a green spring jacket of mine. Oh yeah, I was a fan.
The start of spring training still brings a smile to my face, as it did this year when my old Army Reserve friend, Max Myers, called from Ft. Myer s, FL where he was attending a Twins-Red Sox grapefruit league game. My bobblehead collection now is my unofficial "Twins Hall of Fame." Not necessarily all the Twins of great note, but many whom I idolized, including the late Earl Battey (who was always my favorite because, like him, I was a catcher); Tony Oliva (who, like me, threw right-handed and batted left), and had a sweet swing at the plate; Harmon Killebrew, who these days would never make it but back then was all power; Rod Carew, the Twins' batting leader; Tom Kelly (who managed the Twins to both of their World Series titles); Justin Morneau and Joe Mauer (the present day M&M twins); the late Kirby Puckett (probably the most popular Twin of all time); and now Bert Blyleven, the newest Twin recently elected to the Hall of Fame. Since then I've also added Pete Rose, admittedly never a Twin but whom we met in a sports shop in Caesar's Palace in Las Vegas during our vacation in January 2009. For the mere price of purchasing his bobblehead, Major League Baseball's all-time hits leader autographed it and posed for pictures too. There's no rhyme or reason or sound justification for a grown man collecting bobbleheads. Just a link to a childhood and a reminder of heroes, past and present, and a game that still draws us to the ball park.

Mother Nature's destructive side

It's hard to know what to say when natural disasters occur. What do you think when you see the devastation in Japan? In New Zealand? In Haiti? In New Orleans? It is such a helpless feeling to watch the awesome, destructive power of nature. The Japan death toll is now estimated at 10,000. Many of the missing will never be found. The destruction so widespread and pervasive that it will take decades to repair, and even then will never again be the same -- the terrain and infrastructure forever changed.

If you haven't seen this video, it will shock you. The videographer captures the scene of water rushing down the street, sweeping away -- first of all -- vehicles and small objects in its path, and then the current growing stronger and deeper, eventually moving buildings from their foundations. http://gizmodo.com/#!5781566/this-is-the-scariest-first+person-video-of-the-japan-tsunami-yet

More than 1.4 million without water since the earthquake struck. More than 1.9 million without electricity. Entire towns and villages wiped out of existence. And now the worries of a nuclear meltdown, eerily reminiscent of the Chernobyl power plant meltdown of April 26, 1986 -- almost 25 years ago. Global Post suggests that you make a monetary contribution to a reputable aid group to help the Japanese people recover from this tragedy. Check out that story at this link: http://www.globalpost.com/dispatch/news/regions/asia-pacific/japan/110311/japan-tsunami-donations-aid.

One of my goals as a weekly journalist years ago was to photograph two things up close: a bald eagle and a tornado. I never got to do either one, although I have on occasion seen bald eagles in this area, and have photographed some ugly storm clouds, but no true tornadoes. But I remember coming home from Mitchell to Canistota on the night of May 30, 1998 -- the night that an F4 tornado swept through Spencer and killed six residents, leaving the town in shambles.

What was eerie was that I passed just south of Spencer on Hwy. 38 within an hour or two of the tornado that night. I remember watching the tornado warnings on television and their showing a tornado moving in the direction of Canistota, where I lived at that time. The kids and I hunkered down in the cellar of the house I was renting at that time. We were lucky that night. Spencer's residents were not.

I can't help but remember that event every time I drive past Spencer on Hwy. 38 and see much of the town was rebuilt a bit closer to Hwy. 38 than it was before. It continues to work to recover, but a very small town sustaining such a huge loss can never fully recover when homes, businesses and lives are destroyed. But Spencer's residents are resilient. They have a true sense of what the Japanese people are going through. We can throw up our hands and say "Where do we start?" or we can ask "What can I do to help?"

Charlie Sheen, Lindsay Lohan & Lady Gaga

My Facebook post on Thursday read, "I'm waiting for my daily 'Charlie Sheen fix.' Come on Charlie. Do something." A day without some news of Charlie Sheen's latest bizarre behavior may lie ahead of us, but for now Charlie just keeps turning up in the news like a bad penny. Today it's about a Thursday night police raid at his house that turned up a few rounds of ammunition. Big deal. As an aside the report noted that Charlie has permits for 47 guns... Yeah, 47 guns... But don't worry. They're all registered to Charlie. Perfectly legal. Nothing to worry about there.
Eccentric showbiz personalities and imploding celebrities are nothing new. The old saying that "any publicity is good publicity" must have some merit though. After all, his Monday tweet for a "winning" social media intern drew 95,333 clicks WITHIN THE FIRST HOUR, visits from 181 countries and ultimately 74,040 submitted applications. And, according to at least one source, Charlie was the fastest to ever reach one million Twitter followers -- just 25 hours after being launched on Feb. 28.
Seeing Charlie this week waving a machete on top of a building and sipping simulated "tiger blood" only confirmed the distance in my mind between the Hollywood crowd and the working class.
There are other eccentricities too numerous to mention. Michael Jackson, Brittney Spear's shaved head, Lindsay Lohan behaving badly (yet again), Christina Aguilera's recent mishaps, Alec Baldwin's and Mel Gibson's rants... the list goes on and on. Of course it's not limited to Hollywood celebrities. The athletic world is populated with meltdowns, including Tonya Harding, Mike Tyson and O.J. Simpson. What's got into these people?
Eccentric behavior has become so common it hardly gets more than a ho-hum anymore, unless a law has been broken in the process. But it's sure brought ink and air time to these people, like it or not. What is our fascination with their problems?
The latest pop phenom is Lady Gaga, born Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta. I had heard of Lady Gaga but never had been subjected to her music or videos until we studied her rise to stardom during my Women in Media class. When I polled my kids about her, they agreed they liked her music but thought her behavior a bit odd. I agreed her music was kind of catchy, but her videos were, to me, bizarre. She made Madonna -- who pushed the envelope back in the '80s -- look like a prude. Lady Gaga's crowning moments were a featured segment on "60 Minutes" and her grand entrance in an egg at this year's Academy Awards. I never actually got to see her come out of the egg. Viewers were simply told that that was Lady Gaga in there.
I used to think Elton John was the eccentric one. Roger disliked his music, except for "Crocodile Rock." And "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" got under Barb's skin. I loved Elton John's music, but thought Crocodile Rock was not one of his better songs. His "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" album was one of my favorites. It got a lot of play during my freshman year at SDSU. Rog would kid me no end (and probably disown me as a brother) if he knew my I Tunes collection includes 181 Elton John songs. Michael Jackson accounts for 17 songs, and the Jackson 5 (which starred Michael) adds another 10. By contrast, I have one song by Christina Aguilera, and none by either Brittney Spears or Lady Gaga.
And I've never watched one episode of "Two and a Half Men." I have no plans to either.

The 40 days of Lent

Today is Ash Wednesday. For us Catholics, you know what that means. No snacking today for us grownups. And fish... the only time of the year you'll find me ordering a fish sandwich at McD's or Burger King, or thinking "Red Lobster" instead of the Outback, Buffalo Wild Wings or Foley's. I often wondered how fair it was when I was back in school and we had fish on Fridays during Lent. Did the other kids resent us? It's still the only time of year you'll find me buying Mrs. Paul's fish sticks or batter-fried fish fillets. Dad would've loved it though. A pan full of fresh-caught bullheads... Ugh. Pancakes, toasted cheese sandwiches, tuna 'n' noodles and cheese pizza became my Friday faves.
I don't think any time of year was longer than the 40 days of Lent. Suddenly, candy, chocolate, cookies or ice cream or some other everyday joy was off-limits and never had it looked so good as when I couldn't have it. At least the Sundays during Lent were kind of a "mini-Easter" with those self-forbidden items allowed for one day a week.
Lent meant saying the Rosary every night after supper. We grabbed our rosaries and found a chair in the living room to kneel at as Dad led the rosary. Of course there were Stations of the Cross weekly, and the special Holy Week services. The priest would cover the statues in church the week before Easter, only to reveal them once again on Easter morning. Having served as an altar boy for several years, the smell of the incense used during the services always takes me back to those days.
Lent lost some of its sacrifice for me though as it usually coincided with my semi-annual diet to lose weight before we were required to weigh in in the Army Reserve. It was like "killing two birds with one stone" -- kind of a second sendoff to a period of self-denial. Now that I'm retired from the Army though, that second edge is gone.
I'll always remember though how Dad enjoyed eating fish. I just wish more of that would have rubbed off on me.
Dave

Beginning at the beginning

Okay, this is my first blog posting. It is a sign of the times and the result of several life changes, not to mention a very healthy dose of technology. Who knew 30 years ago that technology would take us here? First came the microwave and VCR, then fax machines, PDAs, computers, cell phones, iPods, digital cameras, etc., etc., etc. Now social media keep us "connected" like never before. Not one to ride the technological band wagon too early, I got on Facebook about 1 1/2 years ago, and even hooked up with Twitter for a short time until I determined hardly anyone I knew was on there. But that's a story for another blog.
What really whetted my appetite for writing again was beginning the online journalism master's degree course at South Dakota State University in the fall of 2009. I left the profession of journalism in 1997 when I sold the Alexandria Herald and Emery Enterprise newspapers and began working for my Army Reserve unit. When I started the masters program I realized how much I missed working in my chosen profession. It has been a great course, and the best part is learning from the other students in our online classes. Most are from this area although they range from Rapid City to Georgia.
I am going to commit to writing on this blog at least twice a week. My family will say I'm a very private person, but now having lost of my parents I know it would be a disservice not to share thoughts, memories and passions with those close to me. Much of my family's history went with my parents and if we kids didn't record it the chances of doing so are lessened as uncles and aunts reach the end of their lives too. So thanks for checking this out. I hope it's worth your time as well as mine.

Dave