A Labor of Love

This year marks the 50th anniversary of a hobby my dad started when he was 60 years old, so it seemed appropriate to engage in this labor of love now to honor his years of impeccable work.

This task was an easy one to procrastinate, but the time had come to just do it. I've transferred my father's daily weather observations from their old, musty, three-ring binders to acid-free plastic sleeves and a brand new binder, to preserve them for many more years to come. 

I was only five years old when Dad took up this new hobby, so I don't have a lot of answers as to what inspired him to start.

I do know that he somehow came into possession of a WCCO Radio Weather Almanac 1975, but whether he ordered it from a radio or television ad or if it was given to him as a Christmas gift are questions probably lost to history.

This was the almanac that started my dad's new hobby from age 60 to the end of his life.

Knowing my dad, he read the almanac, looked at the "Weather Record Form" at the back of the book and decided this would be something fun to do. He started recording daily weather observations on January 1, 1975, using the form in the almanac. 

The first month of a 248 month journey.

He eventually modified his recordings and made his own forms from tablet paper for the next 20+ years. 

Dad's weather records are now safely protected in new plastic sheets.

The transferring process was tedious, but worth it. 176 separate pages! The folder in the upper half of the picture are the original records. They were in pretty rough shape.

I have very fond childhood memories of my dad sitting up every New Year's Eve, figuring out the year end averages and interesting facts like "days below zero" and "total inches of snow," as he compiled his year-long information. All of it was done by hand: no computers, no spreadsheets, no calculators, no fancy graphics. Just an ink pen, paper, colored pencils and a brilliant mind.  

His last daily weather observation was August 31, 1996. As the months went by in 1996, his handwriting became visibly weaker as his body was slowly consumed by cancer. He noted next to August 31st, the number "7914." 

After some thought, I realized this indicated the 7,914th straight day he had recorded his weather observations. I think it is profound that he took the time to note that fact. I also found it sad and, honestly, courageous. He knew it was time. 

He passed away just six months later.

I am hoping this story has a happy ending. I have Dad's records from the years 1975-1981 and 1989-1996. But I am completely missing his records from 1982 to 1988. I am also missing all of his "year end" reports. I know for a fact these exist and I have no doubt they are tucked away in a three-ringed binder somewhere, but everywhere I've searched, I've come up empty handed. 

However, I will continue looking until the day I die. Like my father, I am persistent and committed. I will never give up the search!

My Effin' Life

 We are approaching the end of yet another year. As I get older, I become more thankful for another precious trip around the sun. I know time is temporary and we all need to enjoy every moment. So easy to say, so difficult to do. But I try.

I finished yet another book. My Effin' Life by Geddy Lee, one of the co-founders of the band Rush. Now, full disclosure here, I fell in love with Rush when I was 13 or 14 and I have followed them ever since. Their music was so influential on me that I named my only son after the band's drummer, Neil Peart. In my opinion, I believe Peart to be the greatest drummer of all time. And no, I'm not forgetting about the great Buddy Rich, Gene Krupa, Chick Webb, Louis Bellson... or even Jeff Porcaro and, of course, John Bonham. 

I recently was reading an argument about the greatest rock drummer of all time and, as usual, it came down to Neil Peart and John Bonham. Someone said Peart could do what Bonham could do, but it is doubtful Bonham could do what Peart did. That was pretty profound statement to me, and it sealed the deal.

Anway, back to My Effin' Life. The book was -- trying to find the right adjective -- delightful. It was written in a very casual manner, almost as if Geddy was writing an email or text to you. He takes you on an engaging journey from his earliest memories, and includes a somber chapter about his parents' nightmarish experience in concentration camps during the Holocaust. The book is full of highs and lows, joys and sadnesses. He's lived quite an effin' life. 

~

I was looking back on my posts this year. Ten posts in total, seven were since November 1st. Most of those entries were about books and music. What a surprise. My New Years resolution will be to blog more. After all, it is nice to see what happened during the year because my memory is frequently a blur.

We had our own private little Christmas on Saturday morning (23rd) before heading to my in-law's cabin on Pierz Lake. This was the first Christmas in my life where I was awoken during the night because of rain pelting the roof. The year 2023 was most definitely the Rainy and Foggy Christmas (just like the song, "then one foggy Christmas Eve"), as it poured rained from December 23 through Christmas Day and not a lick of snow on the ground. Speaking of, if that pummeling rain had been snow, we probably would not have gotten together for Christmas because the roads would not have been passable.

Lookin' out my backyard, 30 December 2023

I had taken in my rain gauge in October so it wouldn't freeze and break, so I can't say how much rain we actually got, but all that water had a chance to evaporate (thanks to "warm" temperatures) before anything had the chance to freeze. We would've been in major trouble if it had -- downed power lines, downed trees, not to mention sheer ice on roads and sidewalks. Yeah, it could've been bad. Luck was on our side this time. 

I have no plans to see in the new year. Staying home and watching football on the tube sounds magical. The coming week and month will be full of activity and I will try to document it here as a record for myself (I get motivated to document after reading a good memoir). It will be February before I know it... and I believe this is a leap year, so we get a bonus day to 2024.

Oh, What a Night!

 You may have noticed my posts are running few and far between again; part of this is because I don't have a ton of time to sit and write something I feel is worth reading; secondly, my life is actually pretty damn boring. We really don't do much.

But this past week, we finally did something...

We had a great time in Fargo this past Wednesday. I bought tickets for Jersey Boys way back in November 2021 and we waited through five long months of winter for this show. I figured going to an award-winning musical gave us something to look forward to--a little reward for making it through another crappy Minnesota winter.

Timing, as they say, is everything...

Sure enough, one of the biggest blizzards North Dakota has seen in years plowed through the state this week, suddenly putting our chances of seeing this production in major jeopardy. 

Well, this time we got lucky (mark it down because it doesn't happen often) and the snow kept to the west by about 50 miles. I got email confirmation on Tuesday that the show was on!

The show...

I suppose just about everyone knows the story of Jersey Boys: it tells the tale of The Four Seasons (Frankie Valli, Tommy DeVito, Nick Massi and Bob Gaudio); their rise to the top of the music world, their inevitable downfall (and rise to the top again!). When I was a kid I remember listening to the Four Seasons ("Sherry," "Big Girls Don't Cry," "Walk Like a Man") marvelling at their harmonies and loving the songs. About 30 years ago I bought their double CD greatest hits compilation and played it constantly. To be fair, I am biased. I love this group.

But back to Fargo...

We had a great pre-show dinner at Lucky's 13 (superb Bloody Mary's--a bit sweeter than how I make them, but delicious nonetheless). Then we were off to the Fargodome, which had been modified for Broadway into the Gate City Bank Theatre (I have to credit my daughter, Ava, for taking most of the following pictures; I rely on my memory to recall the experience, which I suppose is a bit old fashioned).

A goofy "vacation photo op." Fargo did not disappoint; it was as cold and windy as ever. Spring definitely was not in the air.

It was difficult to judge exactly how many theatergoers were in attendance; the Gate City Bank Theatre has a capacity of 3,500, so my best guess was close to 2,500. I am also guessing that quite a few folks simply could not make it to the show because of the heavy snow and high winds pummeling the rest of the state. Not only that, the interstate from Dickinson to Jamestown was closed. Travel was literally impossible.

Our seats were fantastic: main floor, six rows from the stage... and my daughter (who loves live theater) proceeded to complain because it was too crowded (life with a teenager... argh!). Luckily, once the house lights dimmed she forgot about it.

The show started about fifteen minutes late, but it was worth the wait. The musical itself was absolutely stellar. The four principle actors--all from Broadway--were flawless in their performances (honestly, the entire cast was terrific). And yes, they sang live (yes, I watched closely) and the backing band performed live (yes, I watched closely). I didn't hear a single clam the entire night. 

But one thing I wasn't expecting was the colorful vocabulary, even though we were warned about it before the show started; the language was even described as a "special effect," which made me chuckle: 

We were warned.

"Authentic, profane, Jersey vocabulary" is right. I could hear the pearl clutchers gasp toward the beginning of the show when Frankie's girlfriend berated him for taking a stage name "Vally." 

You can't end your name with a 'Y', Frankie. A 'Y' doesn't know what the fuck it wants. 'Am I a consonant? Am I a vowel? What the fuck am I?' You need to end your name with an 'I'. V-a-l-l-i. That says, 'I'm Frankie Valli. With an 'I'. If you don't like it, you can go fuck yourself." 

And the colorful language just kept a-coming. But I found it actually added to the story, rather than detract. It made the performances more authentic. After all, the real members of the Four Seasons were not exactly choirboys; most of them did jail time (more than once) and they all had ties with shady characters whose names also ended in vowels, if you know what I mean.

A very simple stage design. But with a show this good, an elaborate set wasn't needed. The band performed underneath the catwalk, hidden before the show by the black screens.

I was also pleasantly surprised that the musical didn't focus solely on Frankie Valli. Each member of the group got a fair shake in the spotlight, especially Bob Gaudio. 

Gaudio was the group's main songwriter and I believe his name is often shamefully overlooked on the list of great songwriters of the 20th century. The man was a hit making machine, and Jersey Boys does well to give him his due. (My son told me he was going to look up more music by him. I told him that was an excellent idea!)

In fact, during his final monologue, Gaudio's character says, "I like to look back on it all and think that none of this could have been possible . . . without me." That line got the biggest response of the evening; applause, shouts, hollers, whistles, the whole shebang.

After 2 1/2 hours, the show concluded with yet another huge hit, "Who Loves You" (the whole show was hit after hit after hit... to Bob Gaudio's credit!) and a well-deserved standing ovation. 

And yes, my crab apple daughter had a huge smile on her face. 😁