I just had the “telecaster through a vibrolux turned up to ten” in the words of John Hiatt, except it was a strat and a Princeton Reverb when L and two of her freinds came giggling through the door. I’m sure that something like, “ooooowwwhh, Mr. Keller rock out!” was uttered on the way through the garage.
Part of your job as a parent is to embarrass your children. I work very hard at it.

Goaltender Greg Stutz of Centennial got his third consecutive shut-out, Cougars mash Spuds 1-0.

Rebecca is going to some big dinner for a colleague in the ad biz. She’s asking me about what to wear. Like I have a fucking clue. The invite has references to the “heady days” of Twin Cities advertising and “munchies.” This got us remeniscing about the herbally boosted days gone by and Rebecca said, “These days they treat it like it was a business!” Maybe that’s why advertising these days seems to suck so hard.

I’m desperately looking for signs of Spring. Other than nasty, predictably unpredictable March weather. Lot’s of bird activity in the yard this morning, but no migratory species. Seems like I should have seen a robin by now. One sure sign of Spring is the Minnesota State High School Hockey Tournament. My alma mater, the Moorhead Spuds are in the finals tonight. They’re the underdogs, but I’m predicting a victory. They lost to their opponents during the regular season, but it was the second game of back to backs played on a trip down to the cities to play against the metro competition. From what I’ve seen of the flying potatoes, they’ve got an incredilbly potent offense and seem to play at a level of speed a cut above the rest of the teams I’ve seen, these kids can motor. If you’ve never seen Minnesota High School hockey, I think you’d be amazed at the level of play. We’re definitely a state of puck heads.

Lindsay Whalen has started practicing with the team and should be ready for the tournament.