All posts by Bob Keller

Merry Christmas

Or the felicitations of whatever way you choose to celebrate the Winter Solstice. The family, Lucia, her bf David, Quinn and Rebecca are curled up around the artificial fire, by the artificial Christmas tree watching a Nick and Nora’s Infinite Playlist, which is not a movie about a wise guy Greek detective, his equally smart ass wife and  their dog Asta, or about my great nephew and niece, who are also Greek, in part.

My daughters have grown up. They aren’t mean to each other anymore, there hasn’t been a single fight. In fact they seem to be goading each other into hysterical laughter most of the time. This is even considering we’ve been pretty much housebound because of the blizzard.

Everyone love there presents, the young folks made a snowman while I wrestled the snowblower through heavy snow. I threw a rib roast in the oven and it’s fragrance is starting to fill the house. I got a subscription to “Cook’s Illustrated” for Christmas and they had a rib roast recipe in the issue they gave me… but I didn’t follow it. It included Yorkshire pudding, which I just didn’t have the ambition to attempt.

Things are good here, hope they are for you too.

Lights on Broadway

smallersanfordposterThis morning I was down at the Plymouth Christian Youth Center in North Minneapolis. Carl Griffin their communications person gave me a tour of the campus and of the Capri Theater, which is owned by the center. The occasion for the tour was my picking up copies of the poster I designed for the upcoming Sanford Moore concert. They’re doing some amazing things on the Corner of Broadway and Logan. They’ve taken a former auto dealership and transformed it  into their offices and PYC Arts & Technology High School, a beautiful building where “at risk” kids are using the combination of art and technology to enhance their learning experience.

Students are learning about DNA by building sculptural representations of the Chromosome strands and studying math as it applies to music. Students are learning technical, as well as interpersonal skills by working as apprentices at the Capri, which they have also recently remodeled. They have multi-purposed the buildings, not only producing their own shows at the theater, but renting it for other musical and theatrical productions. The school building also provides a venue for after school activities and multiple youth programs. It’s a bright and inviting place, alive with natural light and vibrating with activity. I saw lots of happy faces on the kids. All in all it looks like a great environment for learning.

Part of the vision is to “bring up the lights on Broadway” and to “Lead the Capri Theater Renaissance” by making the theater a year around cultural destination that attracts visitors from all over the Twin Cities, showcasing North Side talent and revitalizing the neighborhood. Check out Sanford Moore next month and see the great things going on Broadway!

No refund policy.

angrybobA month or so ago, I kept getting calls on my cell from a certain unknown number. After several occurrences and no messages I decided to go to dexknows.com and do a reverse number search. By all appearances, that feature was being offered to me by Dex. But I soon found out that I had been forwarded to an Intelius page, which presented the special offer of $.99 for one search. I was a dope and didn’t read the fine print, or for that matter the second level subheads in red reverse. Nonetheless I plodded through and got my information, it was someone trying to sell me windows. They were offering a special deal that was about three times what I figure I could get it done for.

What I didn’t realize was the special deal was contingent on a free trial of Identity Protect. I also didn’t realize that they would automatically continue to bill me $19.95 monthly for this service. I would like to have my identity protected, but the fact that I’m writing this blog and I post on various social networking sites, it obviously isn’t a high priority for me. My concern about fraudulent activity involving my identity doesn’t rise to the level of $19.95 a month, for that price, I’ll take my chances. I have plenty of company in my dopiness, there are discussion boards going on this, well, scam. Continue reading No refund policy.

Small engine symantics

I finally got my snowblower started in time to use it on the second significant snow fall of the season. For the first one I was thinking lawnmower instead of snowblower when I primed the carburetor. The lawnmower requires about 30 pumps before it will start, that many pumps on the snowblower will fill the carb with gasoline to the point of it leaking out on the floor. Which is why I missed the first snowfall last year. I thought it was leaking gas and tore it apart in an effort to fix it myself rather than take it in to the friendly local hardware store. I never found anything to fix, but hadn’t gotten it put back together by the time it snowed. The other problem was related to my tenuous understanding of the workings of small engines. And the manual writers tenuous understanding of how to communicate clearly. I knew that when starting the engine you need to choke it. The manual said the choke was supposed to be “on” when starting cold. The choke switch itself doesn’t have an indicator that says “on” or “off” only a graphic consisting of a curve roughly parallel to the arch of the switch, thicker on one end and going down to a point on the other, and a little symbol that apparently represented an open carburetor butterfly. OK, that gives me a vague idea that counterclockwise means “closed” and clockwise means “open.” But does “closed” mean “on” or “off”? Since the knob is the choke control, wouldn’t you think that the thickening of the graphic would mean that you were turning the choke “more on”? I tried to bring back the memories of starting carbureted automobiles (remember them) on subzero days in my youth when I still messed with that kind of thing. Did I use the pencil to hold the butterfly open, or closed. I had a distinct image, in fact I could almost feel how cold I was, leaning over the fender of a ’69 Chevy, trying to fire it up somewhere in South Minneapolis, probably for a trip to the 400 Bar. But I couldn’t bring back the memory of exactly what it was I was trying to do. At a social gathering this weekend, I asked one of my friends who I figured was savvy about this stuff and we got confused as we discussed it, so we asked the two engineers at the table. They were able to straighten us out.

You have to admit that it takes a man who’s very confident in his manhood to admit to such ignorance of small engine repair, something that seems like it comes attached to the Y chromosome. And maybe it does. When I was a kid, I spent all kinds of time in small boats with outboard motors. My dad could spend ten minutes in a pen of 20 cattle and tell you what their average live to dressed yield would be within a half percent, but probably didn’t know the difference between a carburetor and an alternator, so he was not a small engine mentor. But we always owned or rented boats and I always was able to keep them running. I guess it must be a use it or lose it kind of deal.

In case you’re wondering I have the lowest cylinder index of any male I know.

Drama Queen

I quit my job at Caribou. Yes Caribou. Since I don’t work there anymore, I’m not concerned about problems with identifying which coffee conglomerate I was employed by. I didn’t really like it that much, I’ve written before about how the level of multi-tasking is beyond this old guy. And that I had difficulty remembering where the buttons on the cash register were, that there didn’t seem to be any system to the way they are laid out All that standing was also getting hard on my knees and the rest of my body. The whole experience was stressing me out. I think the next person that tells me how much fun it must be to work in a coffee shop is going to get punched in the nose.
But the decisive moment came Wednesday night. The supervisor on the shift was, like all the shift supervisors, a twenty something woman. I’d worked with her before and come to the conclusion that she was kind of a slave driver, but I had no idea how nasty she could really be. Continue reading Drama Queen

I’ve been working on the railroad

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This summer we went to the Railroad Museum in Wisconsin Dells. I took a pile of shots of rusted out trains and old railroad stuff, planning to do some photopaintings from them. Here’s the first. View on black

Breast Cancer Screening

If you are looking for a concise and thoughtful take on the new mammogram guidelines, my friend Susan writes about it in her blog. I find the guidelines to be a strange risk-benefit calculation. Although I must admit that I’ve consistently declined prostate cancer screening.

Thanksgiving

What I’m thankful for:

My family. My wonderful creative daughters who have fled the nest and seem to be thriving and the young men they’re in relationships with, who are also creative and decent guys. My wife who is so many great things, beautiful and tolerant to name a couple. I’m thankful that I found someone to put up with me for these thirty some years.

My family’s health. And mine. I’m thankful that I’ve had Crohn’s for almost 40 years and my intestines are still intact. I’m thankful that after a nasty infection and five surgeries on my leg, I’m alive, have two legs that sort of bend and I can walk. And I’m thankful for the meds that my brain chemicals properly balanced and a safe distance from the brink.

I’m thankful for this country and the freedom and prosperity it’s provided. And to the men and women in the military who put everything on the line to defend it.

I’m thankful for the sound that my Strat makes with the switch at four, the tone turned all the way up, the reverb at 7 and the tone knobs at 10 on the Princeton Reverb amp, when I dig into the strings with the pick and just brush them with my thumb as it goes by. I’m thankful for my Carbon Acoustic guitar, which stays in tune and puts up with my neglect and still sounds great.

I’m thankful for Mac OS and Adobe.

I’m thankful for RH Donnely going into Chapter 11 and making my decision to leave so much easier.

I could go on and on.

Dead Flowers

deadflowerOne of the options I’ve been pursuing is to become a rock star. Well you never know until you try, right? Seriously, I’ve been putting in some major wood shedding (hep-cat musician speak for “practice”) and have been seeing some gradual improvement in my playing. I’ve been a closet guitar player for forty years, noodling away in private, rarely playing with anyone else, never really learning any songs, just improvising away on the blues and lately some old time country and rockabilly things. I’m not particularly talented as a musician, but I’m determined. And I have a really bad case of stage fright. I’ve attended open jams and when I get called out to solo, it’s deer in the headlights time. My fingers turn to stone, I can’t remember the key we’re in, or where to start. I’ve sat there, sweating for four measures of an eight measure break. I can practice a piece for hours, play it fairly well in private, but if I have one person watching me I just can’t pull it off.

Lately I’ve been getting together to make music with a young woman who I met at a neighbor’s house last summer. Continue reading Dead Flowers

Call Me Mr. Fitness

It seems October and November decided to switch places in the seasonal order this year. Did the sun ever come out in October? It seemed like it was consistently dreary and rainy for the whole month. It even snowed a bit. And now on November 17th, I’m looking out my window at an azure sky and the cemetery bathed in beautiful thin late afternoon light. I guess as Minnesotans we take what we can get.

As I’ve mentioned before, I’m trying to justify my post Dex existence in every possible way. One way is to be a fitness mentor to my spouse. Not that I can give her any tips on staying fit, having me for a personal trainer would be like having Foster Brooks for an AA sponsor. Continue reading Call Me Mr. Fitness