Country Roads and AI (Actual Intelligence) – A Minnesota Thanksgiving

by Bob Sparrow

The Road

Minnesota between colors and snow

The narrow, winding road through the rolling hills had two lanes, one in each direction.  The darkening sky reached down to touch the expanse of furrowed fields, which were now brown and barren, but once were, and will be again, the verdant home to acres of corn.  But before that, and for several months to follow, it will be covered in a blanket of snow.  With apologies to Robert Frost, I noticed that in these parts, ‘no fences make good neighbors’, as there are no fences separating properties, whether it’s forty-acre farms or tract homes, no fences, except to keep the cows in.  And while there are no fences between properties like we’d see back home, there are lots of silos, something we don’t have a lot of in California. As I slowed down for a four-way stop, I noticed a middle-aged man, wearing a rust-colored, checkered flannel shirt and a worn Twins baseball cap, walking from his house, down his long, dirt driveway to his mailbox, which sat on a 4 x 4 post where the driveway met the road.  He had his collar turned up to a slight breeze and 13-degree temperature. Hickory, Maple and Oak trees stand bare with  dark branches stretching to the gray sky; only the pines and firs still hold their leaves, waiting for a dusting of snow to put them in their  holiday finary.  I spotted two deer carcasses lying in a ditch on the side of the road, reminding me to drive very carefully as it gets darker.   It had been quite a while since I had driven on a ‘real’ country road – it was at once calming and exhilarating.

The People

Linda, Starlet, Phyllis

I cannot remember the last time Linda and I were not home, hosting family for Thanksgiving, but then again, I can’t remember where I put my car keys this morning.  We typically would have the whole family to our house, which, for the last several years, has also included Linda’s sister, Starlet and husband, Donnie.  But for medical reasons they were unable to ‘snowbird’ from Minnesota to Arizona this winter, and thus were not able to drive over to California for Turkey Day.  So, we decided to take this opportunity to go back to Rochester, Minnesota not only to be with Starlet and Donnie for Thanksgiving, but also to be with Linda’s 97-year-old, sharp-as-can-be mother, Phyllis, who was able to break away from leading her retirement home attendees in their exercise program to join us!  We would also get a chance to see two of Starlet’s daughter’s family, oldest daughter, Denise and husband, Gene and their three kids Garrett, Lindsay and Will, and middle daughter, Debbie and husband, Paul and daughter, Anna and son, Matt; youngest daughter, Ella was unable to make it.

In case anyone has concerns about this ‘younger generation’, here’s a quick bio on Starlet’s grandkids with whom we were able to share the holiday:

Lindsay, Will, Denise, Gene (Garrett had already left for girlfriend’s house)

Grandkids from oldest daughter, Denise and husband Gene

Garrett – Graduated from U of Wisconsin, is now enrolled in a doctorate program at the University of Alabama, Huntsville, where he is studying Aerospace Engineering – it is rocket science!

Lindsay – Graduated from U of Iowa in Global Health & Physiology and is now working in the health field in Washington DC

Will – A junior at U of Wisconsin studying Electrical Engineering

 

Grandkids from middle daughter, Debbie and husband, Paul

Debbie, Anna, Matt, Starlet, Donnie, surrounding Phyllis

Matt – Graduated from St. John’s, MN in Mathematics, and is working for Edwards Jones Investment Company and living in Denver

Anna – Graduated with honors (3.96 GPA – What, she got a ‘B’?!!!) in Bio-Chemistry from Sacred Heart in Connecticut, was captain of the women’s hockey team and a candidate for NCAA female athlete of the year.  Now in a Physician’s Assistant program.

Ella – Studying Bio-Chemistry at St. Benedict’s in St Joseph, MN and will follow her mother in becoming a Doctor of Pharmacy

(Not in attendance) Grandkids from youngest daughter Melissa, who is an architect in Houston, and husband, Chris’ two daughters,

Sydney – graduated from U of Texas in Finance

Macy – currently a student at U of Arkansas – getting a teaching degree.

My brain hurt just putting that all together!  The whipped cream on top of this Thanksgiving Day punkin pie (home grown and made by Gene) is that they are all as ‘Minnesota Nice’ as they are smart – parents and kids alike.

Needless to say, we had a great, AND educational Thanksgiving; hope you did too!

 

THE MIGRATION OF THE SNOWBIRD

 

SnowbirdBy Suzanne Sparrow Watson

 

Well, it’s that time of year again – the annual migration of the snowbirds has begun.  “Snowbirds” for those unfamiliar with the term, refer to all the people from colder climes that come here in the winter just so they can call home to their friends and brag that they’re not having to shovel sunshine.  There are so many people here from the Midwest that someone once said that the definition of diversity in Phoenix is when someone from Chicago moves in right next door to someone from Minneapolis.

 

A quick trip to the grocery store this morning made clear that the snowbirds are on the wane.  I did not have to swerve coming out of my neighborhood in order to miss some “high flying” snowbird with his top down, talking on a cell phone, and smoking a stogie.

 

Nor did I have to endure people turning left, no, then right, no, then left again because they didn’t have GPS in their car and can’t figure out our complicated street system.  (I will say that having streets that dead end and then pick up again three miles down the road is a tad bit confusing)car transport

 

And best of all, I breezed into the parking lot, found a space up close and was able to complete my shopping without having to stand in a long line of people stocking up on gin, cocktail napkins and sunscreen.  Rest assured, the most beautiful sight we see this time of year are all the car transport trucks heading out of town.

 

The bad part about the migration is that most of my friends are snowbirds.  They return this time of year to the mountains or the Midwest, carry on with their lives at home and leave the rest of us here to sweat out the summer.  Just as they have their unique moniker, those of us who stay here are affectionately known as the “summer sluts”.  At least I think that’s a term of affection.

 

In any event, last week a friend asked me if I actually looked forward to everyone leaving for the season.  Since she was “migrating” back to Chicago the next day, I did what I thought was right. I lied.  I told her it was awful here in the summer.  And, of course, I do miss my friends.  But the truth is, it’s kind of nice once everyone clears out.  We can get into any restaurant we choose at 7 p.m. on a Saturday night.  We can arrive 10 minutes before the opening of a blockbuster movie and still get a great seat.  Oh sure, you can fry an egg on the pavement in mid-August but  that’s a small price to pay to be the first in line at the Nordstrom Annual Pre-Season sale.

 

But the best reason to enjoy the snowbird migration?  No more dinner invitations.  We control our schedule – from now until November we will not be on a social merry-go-round.  We will only go out when we feel like it.  We will not have to get dressed up.  We can sit on our sofa, wearing Bermudas and a tank top, and download movies from Netflix.  We can munch on junk food.  We can drink beer and vodka tonics to keep cool.

 

Come to think of it, maybe I am a summer slut. white trash