Say What?

Like many people living in the Midwest, Christianity is in my DNA, or was. It was part of my core. I was raised in a Lutheran household, where we regularly attended church and Sunday school and, when I was old enough, weekly confirmation classes. There was never any talk among our family of questioning our faith, nor did we discuss religion that I can recall. What was there to discuss? If it was good enough for my parents, it was good enough for me, or something like that.  I've come to see my faith life as a winding journey. For most of my life, I was strong in my Christian faith, but then I began questioning the entire church apparatus that I'd been indoctrinated into, because there's a part of me that isn't content to embrace something I'm struggling to understand. This was maybe fifteen years ago. I still felt committed to the faith, but I recall some doubts creeping in—and I found myself open to new ideas.  My core belief centered around Jesus and the understan...

As much as I can, I avoid using my blog to recount the endless provocations and destructive actions Trump and his administration are taking. I would rather spend my time writing about what these offenses mean to me and holding up a mirror to those who support this madness, hoping to appeal to their better angels. If there is a goal with a post like this, it's to help people see another perspective and, hopefully, to cause them to think outside the lines conservative media and conservative politicians would like them to remain in, in steadfast loyalty to them and their narrative. I recall learning about propaganda in middle school. I was fascinated by the thought of so many people being lied to and not realizing it. I never imagined it could take root here in the United States. We're too smart for that, or so I thought. But I lacked imagination. I lacked the understanding of what billions of dollars fed into a media conglomerate could do as they invited people to come for the he...

I don't always ride for my physical health; I ride for my mental health as well. My bikes and my walks are my escapes from the world and its problems. They're what I use to help sort out my thoughts, just as writing in my blog does.  I remember the exact stretch of highway I was riding, just east of Lydia on a beautiful Sunday morning in October 2008, when I stopped being owned by the Republican Party for my pro-life vote. I took it back. I had been contemplating the presidential endorsement Colin Powell gave Obama on Meet the Press a couple of hours earlier. It was a powerful endorsement and one I couldn't ignore. I made a conscious decision in that moment to open my mind to switching my support.  Before that morning, I had always been a reliable vote for conservatives, primarily because of reasons centered around abortion. But they were using me. Putting the issue of abortion aside, it became clear to me that I could no longer support a political party that was heavily we...

I attended the official lighting ceremony for the Glowing Tree in Bloomington earlier this month. I was worried that the new version of the lighted oak wouldn't live up to years past, but it did. It's every bit as beautiful as it ever was, and likely even better. I spoke with one of the workers and one of the owners of the home where the tree resides. They said it took 40,000 lights and 160 man-hours to string the lights. I've included a video of the tree's lighting at the end of this post.  If you're in the Minneapolis metro area, you can find the tree less than a mile southwest of the Mall of America, just west of Cedar Ave. Here's a link . Our 17-year-old furnace began acting up when we turned it on last month. It was an ignition issue. The tech who came out to service it said the manufacturer no longer made parts for our Ruud furnace and that it would need to be replaced. Thankfully, the tech was able to get it working again, but cautioned us that it was a t...

Fifteen years ago, I set up a Facebook page called Glowing Tree in Bloomington , dedicated to a beautifully lit oak tree west of Cedar Ave and south of Old Shakopee Rd. The tree was lit each year from Thanksgiving through January 1st, but it went dark eleven years ago when it became more of an attraction than the owners were prepared for. I spoke with Bob Little then, the man who owned and maintained the tree. He said they were getting so many people driving through the neighborhood to get a closer look that it was becoming a nuisance for what used to be a quiet suburban street just southwest of the Mall of America. It was also a significant expense to maintain and operate, he said.  Who didn't love crossing the Cedar Ave bridge to look out across the marsh and take in the beauty of the tree shining brightly for all to see?  After the tree went dark, our holiday seasons seemed lacking in the years that followed, without the lighted tree that so many looked forward to seei...

In December 1974, my dad's job took him—and what remained of our family at home (two younger brothers and our two pups, Mopsy and Toto)—to Pottstown, PA. My father allowed me to stay behind and finish my senior year of high school. I was a troubled kid, so I'm not sure why he placed any amount of trust in me. I had been actively using a variety of recreational drugs up to just a few months before this point (primarily speed, LSD, mescalin, etc), but I had stopped all of that activity after a frightening trip on LSD one night where I prayed to God that if I survived, I would straighten up. And I did.  My parents allowing me to remain behind felt like they were ready to be done raising me. While I was grateful not to have to uproot my life and move with them, I quietly harbored resentment about it for years. It felt like they had given up on me. I recall them stopping by the apartment they had rented for my sister and me on their way out of town—one last goodbye. As my dad and mo...