On a Chilled Iowa Night

The midnight sky was normally inky-black, but the iridescent glow of a perfectly circular white orb cast a brilliant glow across the landscape. The fog that was rolling in across my grandfathers eastern fields lit up as if comprised of neon gas let loose from a thousand beer signs from a hundred taverns and allowed to float free of the cigarette smoke and cheap liquor that swirled about the wooden floors and pool table legs and starched blue jeans and well-worn leather boots.

The Green Line

Seldom am I given the opportunity to ride the colorful public transportation system that snakes throughout Chicago's city and metropolitan neighborhoods. So when I was invited to a birthday celebration taking place at Jake Melnick's Corner Tap in the heart of downtown, I leapt at the chance to ride the rails into the city.

The Creek - Reminiscence and Discovery

As a frigid north wind battered the edges of our winter coats, Annie and I carefully chose our footing across the clods of frozen dirt and stalks of forgotten corn silage in the field that lay south of my opa's rural farmhouse. The sun shone brightly on the snow, eluding to warmth that was nowhere to be found. Reaching the bottom of the hill, we followed the edge of the field, past the derelict barn that had been neglected and in decay since I was a child, and on to the creek that lay below. Drawing closer to the trickling water in its frozen bed, Annie and I noticed that we were not the only ones looking to navigate the water at this crossing. several tracks of forked prints revealed the recent presence of turkeys in the fresh snow. The cloven prints of a deer could be seen a little further on. Raccoon prints abounded, their articulate fingers making soft indentations around the running water. A little further on, a marking that I first thought to be a coyote revealed itself to likely be a bobcat, as the prints looked more feline than canine. Annie and I paused a moment, taking in all the traffic that had evidently commuted through this crossing since the snow had fallen the night before. The scene must have been breathtaking.

Thoughts on the Role of Ritual in our Lives

A few weeks ago, in the frosty haze of a brisk Southeast Iowa Sunday morning, I awoke from one of the most solid slumbers that I'd enjoyed in a long time. I donned my best blue jeans and, with my wife and my grandmother in tow, cruised down the sleepy, two-lane highway bound for Sunday mass.

Observations from 20 Years of Iowa Life - A Different Take on the Same State

University of Iowa Professor Stephen Bloom wrote an article for the Atlantic online last week that has scores of Iowa natives up in arms. The professors inflammatory words about the state that boasts the first Republican primary in a matter of weeks have created quite the cacophony among bloggers, facebookers, and Iowans of all make, model, and color.

Passion for Coffee - Fuel for the Soul

As of seven o'clock this morning I had already notched two hours of productive morning under my belt. As I stepped out into the waning darkness, the crisp air that accompanies the first snow of the year slapped my freshly shaven face like a forgotten lover in an old Cary Grant film. I drove to work in the chill of a sluggish car heater, surrounded by commuters who looked similarly drowsy and equally frozen.

When Life Throws You a 16-wheeler...

Nine years ago on this day, I experienced a series of traumatic events that would forever change the way I approach life and metal detectors.

Many of you know this as "the bear attack".

Others may know it as the Chicago knife-fight.

Others still know of an incident with a shark. Or an alligator. Or a deranged hobo.

Some of you may have even heard a story about a car accident. Believe what you will, there is probably some truth in whatever story you've heard.

Whatever the tale, please know that I am grateful for all the love, support, & fruit baskets that everyone has offered over the last 9 years.

In my mind, a renaissance man faced with adversity should take it on the chin, learn from the experience, and have fun with what the world hands you.

So sometime today, raise a glass of whiskey in honor of my bionic limbs, eventual arthritis, & the hours of entertainment that this trauma has provided. As a wise man once said,

"When life throws you a 16-wheeler, make lemonade."

Hotter than Blazes

My car thermometer read ninety three degrees as I turned the key in the ignition this afternoon. The thick air in the vehicle was swirled with hot jet-streams that pushed stale atmosphere through the anxious vents.

Summer has arrived in the Midwest.

I don't like to complain about the weather. As a native Iowan, I see it as a badge of honor to weather the atmospheric bi-polarity of our region.

But as an Iowan, I also have an inherent tendency to discuss the weather with people I meet. My wife hates it. I guess it comes from my agrarian heritage, where weather patterns affect your livelihood.

So when I stopped by the Downtown Grocery for a mid-afternoon refreshment today, made small talk with the polite Middle Eastern man who held the door for me.

The gentleman works at the store, and I've chatted with him many times as I stop in to grab a candy bar or Arnold Palmer Tallboy. As he followed me into the dingy convenience store, I joked,

Cool and Refreshing

"You open doors for your customers now too? Should I tip for that?"

"Oh no! I was just finishing my cigarette."

I wiped my brow and, in iconic Iowan fashion, retorted,

"It's almost hot enough to give up that habit, I'd say."

He just smiled and said,

"This is nothing! Try smoking in one hundred twenty degrees!"

Upon further inquiry, I learned that this gentleman was born in Dubai.

"The winters in Dubai are as the spring here - sixty, seventy degrees. Two, three, four o'clock, you cannot even leave your house. It is too hot!"

So to all those who are swooning at this unseasonably warm weather, take it from a man who has become thick skinned toward these Iowa summers.

In a way, my Downtown Grocery acquaintance has assimilated well to the rough Iowa approach to atmosphere. Shrug off the extreme weather, as it is always more intolerable somewhere else.

Just don't talk to him about the snow and ice. I'm afraid he may not be so tolerant in January.