Miss Minnesota USA

Last week, I interviewed a young woman named
Erica Nego.

She is the reigning Miss Minnesota USA.

Over the weekend, her family and friends held a send-off party for her as she heads to Las Vegas this week to compete in the Miss USA pageant.

I've never made a habit of watching the national pageants. However, this year, I think I'll tune in.

It's not until April 19, but Ms. Nego made an impression on me.

She is smart, quick, well-read and articulate.

If you're interested, here's my article about her:

Reflections of a pageant pro

Dicky Coupling and Monkey Butt

Speaking of pictures from the auction of my grandfather's junk yard business ...

I found this one sent to me by my uncle, Michael Westhoff, who is a freelance photographer.

I remember when we found this can, buried beneath a heap o' junk. We giggled and giggled and giggled some more.

What in the world was Dickey Lubricant Compound for Dickey Coupling?

This picture reminded me straight away of another one shot by yet another freelance photographer, Mark Trockman, a man that I work with to cover assignments for a local newspaper.

The other week, while touring a newly-opened tool store in my neck of the woods, Mark snapped this picture of a product called Anti Monkey Butt with me in the background laughing.

You've got appreciate the wonders of modern marketing. Still though, I'm not really sure I know what Dicky Lubricant or Anti Monkey Butt do ...



Photos (c) Michael Westhoff and Mark Trockman

Please Pack my Box With ...

My grandfather owned a junk yard. He didn't like to call it that. To him, it was a "salvage operation."

To everyone else though, the words "junk yard" sufficed.

He passed away a year and a half go. As a result, his business was auctioned off. Most of it went to scrappers who came in and bought up the metal.

I was there, not buying, but taking pictures. Those pictures have been languishing on a memory card since then. I hadn't addressed them. The auction had been too sad.

But I dug them out the other day. Among them was this shot, a close up of a piece of paper that had been threaded through an old-fashioned typewriter. The typewriter was outside in a pile of scrap metal. The piece of paper had been there for who knows how long.

It reads:

Please pack my box with seven dozen lacquer jugs.

What? What kind of a sentence was that?

I promptly emailed it to my uncle, a man with a deep love for all things odd, who wrote back with an answer.

The sentence, according to him, should have read:

Pack my box with five dozen liquor jugs.

It's similar, he said, to:

The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog.

I was lost and confused. I had no idea what either one of these sentences meant. But now I know. Each one contains every letter of the alphabet.

Apparently, back in the day, typing teachers used to make their students practice their keyboarding skills by typing these sentences over and over.

Hmmm. I don't remember that. Have I just dated myself?

Smart Talking Fran Drescher

Good things happen.

This was the message Fran Drescher had to share last night when she came through Minneapolis as part of the Smart Talk lecture series.

Good things are always happening in our lives, even when we feel like we are bogged down with bad. Whether we recognize the opportunities as they appear depends -- of course -- on us. We choose whether to wallow or rise.

She illustrated her point drawing examples from her own life. For example, I didn't know that she struggled for years in Hollywood before finding her niche as "The Nanny" in her mid-thirties.

I also didn't know that throughout those lean Hollywood years, she founded and ran a crouton company. Croutons! Who knew?

And I vaguely remembered, some years past, that she'd been diagnosed with cancer. But I had no idea that it was uterine cancer. I had no idea she had a full hysterectomy.

I had no idea she'd started a nonprofit organization to educate women about gynecological cancers -- uterine and ovarian. It's called, like her book, Cancer Schmancer.

I had no idea she'd been spending time in Washington D.C. lobbying senators to pass a bill to support her work.

And I had no idea she'd been appointed Special Envoy for Women's Health Issues by the U.S. State Department and now travels the world speaking out about the importance of women's health.

She said, last night, that she fully believes she got famous so she could survive cancer so she could educate others.

Now that's a woman who has learned to find the silver lining.

One of my favorite things that she said last night was:

"Nothing good comes from being cemented."

Her message: Things change. Tragedy happens. Rarely do our lives turn out as we planned. If we can't roll with the punches, we're going to have a hard time seeing good.

I Heart Tiger Balm

Too much time at the keyboard.

Tiger Balm is my new best friend.

Well, not exactly "new". I've been a fan since Hubby introduced me roughly six years ago.

It soothes my aching neck, my sore shoulders, all hunched up and over from typing, typing, typing.

This picture was taken at the Tiger Balm source: Thailand.

Tipping Points and 4-Hour Work Weeks

I'm a big reader. Usually, though, I like to loose myself in historical novels or travel memoirs.

My most recent past two reads, however, don't fit either of these categories.

They have, instead, given me lots to think about and set my brain to spinning.

I finished the Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell.

Then I promptly moved on to Four-Hour Work Week by Timothy Ferris.

Both are shelved in the "business" section of a bookstore, and while I see how each of them is indeed a "business" book, I'd also say that each is a "lifestyle" book. Each one offers a bold, daring, new way to approach the world.

Now, if only I could figure out how to spark a tipping point in my life that would allow me and hubby to live well without working ourselves to death.

And I also can't stop wondering what I am ... a connector? a maven? a salesman?

If you're read the Tipping Point, then you know of what I speak.

I'm definitely not the salesman, but perhaps I am a little bit of a maven?

Observation Deck of Foshay Tower

Of course we had to visit the Observation Deck at the top of the Foshay Tower.

As guests of the W Hotel Minneapolis, we had free entrance to the museum and lookout. Usually, it costs $8 to get up there.

The Observation Deck is above the word "Foshay" and traces a path all the way around the building.

It was bright and sunny, a perfect warm spring day.

According to all the literature back in the museum, you're supposed to be able to see for 30 miles on a clear day.

I don't know that we could see that far. We did, though, get a bird's eye view into the new baseball stadium that's going up at the edge of downtown.

And I did catch this full-length reflection of the Foshay Tower in the office building next door. This shot looks away from downtown Minneapolis.

Foshay Tower Turned W Hotel

To celebrate our anniversary, Hubby and I reserved a room at the new W Hotel in Minneapolis.

The hotel opened in the fall of 2008 and its location is quite remarkable: It's inside the historic Foshay Tower.

Construction on the Foshay Tower finished in August 1929, just a few weeks before the Roaring 20s came to a halt with the infamous stock market crash that sent the country into the Great Depression.

From 1929 until 1971, it was the tallest building in Minneapolis, a title it's long since lost several times over.

It's just 32 stories high, but it continues to stand out as its white limestone facade looks like the Washington Monument in Washington DC.

It was an office building. Now, though, it's a swanky, upscale, boutique hotel.

Great pains were taken to preserve the build's historic value. Those pains had to be taken as the building earned a spot on the National Historic Register back in 1977.

Throughout the building, old and new have been expertly mixed, like in the lobby where the original marble walls, tile floors and a restored plaster ceiling mingle with ulta-modern lighting.

Ah.....Romance

Love is in the air . . .

Today is my 5-year wedding anniversary. Hubby and I will be celebrating with a night on the town. Meanwhile, since love is the theme of the day, I wanted to share this picture.

It was taken by Mridula Dwivedi, one of my fellow GoNomad bloggers, who lives in India.

Last weekend, she took a trip to the Taj Mahal and captured this image. It is posted on her blog, Travel Tales From India. If you head there you can see a larger version of it.

Mridula complains on her blog that there were so many tourists in and around the Taj that she had a hard time getting any pictures of the famous structure without people in them.

This shot, though, is a winner. I find it touching and lovely and sweet, and incredibly appropriate that this couple in love is gazing out at the Taj Mahal.

Photo - (c) Mridula Dwivedi

Local Women Impress

I feel like I've been interviewing and writing about a lot of women lately.

Last week I interviewed a young woman named Kat Cummin who is a senior at Notre Dame University.

She designed these funky, cube-shaped spice jars for college credit and ended up earning second place in a housewares design competition.

My article about her can be read here:

Providence Grad Spices Things Up

I also got to interview the newest director of the massive Hennepin County Library System, which is the county the city of Minneapolis and its heavily populated western suburbs are in.

Her name is Lois Thompson and despite the fact that she had just accepted a huge job promotion, she was funny and open and engaging to talk with.

My article about her can be read here:

Hennepin County Picks Homegrown Talent To Lead Libraries

A while back I visited the Midtown Global Market in Minneapolis. It's a huge space where small business owners, many of them immigrants, have leased booth space and are operating in a big, indoor, open-air sort of market.

I was there to interview women business owners. My story about them came out this month, too. It can be read here:

Mercado Mentality

Another local woman I recently met and wrote about was Nancy Donahue. She founded a nonprofit called Birthday Buddies.

It's like Toys for Tots, but for birthdays. She collects donated toys and gives them to needy kids to help them celebrate their birthdays.

A portion of that story can be seen here:

Birthday Bashes

Toying with Northern Tools

The life of a freelance writer isn't always exciting.

I spend a lot of time on the phone, even more time online and entire chunks of time hammering away on a keyboard. All of this translates into a lot of alone time.

When I get the chance to get out of the house, I generally jump at it.

Last week, on assignment for a local paper, I packed up my yellow tablet and headed to a tool store. It had just opened for business and I was to write a "business feature" on it.

Now, I'm not really a tool sort of gal. I usually defer any tool-required activities to my hubby. But I had a good time at the newest Northern Tool + Equipment store.

Not only was I given a tour of the store by an enthusiastic merchandising man, I also got to hang out with Mark Trockman, a freelance photographer.

I've worked with Mark on many, many assignments for this particular paper. While I generally think of myself as someone who works alone, it's always fun to arrive on site for an interview and find Mark there.

When he starts climbing on things and setting up shots, I like the fact that I recognize what he's doing and that none of it surprises me. It makes me realize that I don't always work alone.

My "tool story" came out today. Should you be interested, you can find it here:

Minnetonka Store Lets You Try Before You Buy

Photo (c) Mark Trockman

Barrio Tequila Bar in Minneapolis

What's a night of live music without drinks and dinner before hand?

The other night, before checking in to see the Afro-Cuban All Stars, we hit Barrio.

Barrio is a great tequila bar squeezed into a thin, tall spot on the city's main pedestrian thoroughfare.

The walls are red, the guacamole is yummy and the drinks are tequila filled.

Not even 24 hours after hanging out there, I was trying to figure out when I could go back.

Afro Cuban All Stars in Minneapolis

Usually, Sunday nights are slow, calm and restful. Not so last night.

I hit the town and went to see the Afro-Cuban All Stars at Orchestra Hall in downtown Minneapolis.

Think Buena Vista Social Club. In fact, the Afro-Cuban All Stars is the band that the Buena Vista Social Club movie and subsequent albums are based on and around.

They put on a great show with lots of energy, plenty of dancing and pulsating rhythms.

There was also a healthy dose of impressive instrumental displays by trumpet players, a pianist, and a bongo drummer, lots of maraca shaking going on and a big mamacita wearing a dress layered in fringe who wasn't afraid to shake it on stage.

What a fun way to pass a Sunday night!

Business Galore

What was I thinking? Maybe I wasn't.

I've been doing so much freelancing work lately that I'd nearly run out of business cards. I was down to only three! Yikes! Not good.

I hurried to order more and was obviously lured by the tiny price differential between 500 and 1000 cards.

I went for the larger number and the box arrived today.

Gee Whiz! Look at all these business cards!

I'd better get busy!

Of Grasshoppers and Geography

Big surprise: The other day, I was listening to MPR.

MPR is the Minnesota version of NPR, and I am an ardent fan.

I was on my way to the gym when I caught part of a re-broadcast lecture by Barbara Brown Taylor. She was speaking about how to encounter the divine in your daily life.

She was promoting her new book, An Altar in the Word: A Geography of Faith.

The "geography of faith" part of the title grabbed my attention. The words reminded me of another book, The Geography of Bliss, that I read last year. That book made my Top 5 Reads of 2008.

But her subject matter also pulled me in. Taylor introduced the idea of "the sacred art of stopping." This, art, she said, is the ability to stop, be still, notice the details of your surroundings, and in doing so, acknowledge the creator.

This echoed exactly a book I'm currently reading called Haiku Mind. In fact, I had been struggling to write a review of Haiku Mind for my haiku blog before I'd ditched it in exchange for my trip to the gym which put me in my car listening to Taylor.

So, after introducing "the sacred art of stopping", Taylor then read a poem by Mary Oliver.

The poem's last line is widely quoted. It's everywhere from retirement cards to graduation speeches to inspirational calendars. "Tell me," it goes, "what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?"

While I had heard this line thousands of times, I don't know that I've ever heard the poem it concludes in its entirety.

Here it is:

The Summer Day
by Mary Oliver

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

The Jolt of the City

I am in need of a Spring Break. So many people these days are getting away to the beach. I, however, am yearning for the "jolt" of a big city.

Here's the haiku I posted the other day on my haiku blog, Haiku By Two:

I need Manhattan,
Bangkok, Buenos Aires, Rome,
out of these suburbs.

Photo - Bangkok

Maple Plain Made my Afternoon

Argh! Strip malls! Too many strip malls! Another Starbucks. Panera. Brugger's. Ugh!

For the past two weeks, I've been in and out of these places meeting folks I'm writing stories about.

Starbucks and the like always make for good meeting places when planning an interview with a stranger. The chains are on key intersections, obviously marked, well lit and well attended. Or in other words, easy and safe.

But by noon today, I'd had enough. Eight such meetings in the past ten days had sent me over the suburban edge. I needed OUT!

I decided to head for the small town of Maple Plain.

It's not too far from my house, maybe half an hour away, but somehow it has escaped urbanization and standardization. Plus, I'd been meaning to get out that way.

I stopped by Kathie's Finds, a funky, eclectic boutique in an old creamery.

Kathie was there, chatting with everyone, and some how I got invited into the back of the building to an old part of the creamery in disrepair. The owners are getting ready to fix it up and expand their store.

While on this "behind the scenes" tour, I also got to meet Kathie's four dogs -- two toy poodles and two great danes -- all of them rescue animals.

Next, I headed "downtown" to The Fairy Garden, a business run out of an old Episcopalian church.

And then I hit up Web of Charlotte, a boutique liberally sprinkled with pictures of pigs. The owner, I learned, named the shop after her deceased but dearly loved pot bellied pig, Charlotte. Hence the pigs.

The only thing that could have made my day any better would have been a tour of the Maple Plain Museum. Sadly, it was closed.

Even if it had been open, though, my tour surely would have only taken two minutes. The museum is an itty-bitty little building smaller than my bedroom.

Nevertheless, Maple Plain, even in its semi-run down, over-looked state, was a total pick me up and the perfect remedy to my suburban frustration.

American Reporter Missing in Iran

Sunday morning. I was up early, puttering around in my office. Drinking coffee. Skimming my haiku web site. The TV was on in the background and suddenly a news story caught my ear.

NPR is reporting, said the anchor, that a journalist has gone missing in Iran ... She attended Concordia College in Moorhead.

What? I attended Concordia College in Moorhead.

I jumped from my computer chair and rushed to the TV. Who was this journalist? What was her name? What year did she graduate? Did I know her?

Of course as soon as I reached the TV, the anchor was on to another story. So I hunted out the story myself on the NPR web site.

The journalist's name is Roxana Saberi. She is 31 years-old, which puts her out of my Concordia range, but just barely. I don't know her.

She is a freelance journalist who has reported for NPR and the BBC. She was able to get into Iran because while she was born in the US, her father is Iranian. This gave her the "status" she needed to get in.

Saberi has been living in Iran for the past six years. She was arrested on January 31 for "buying wine." The last time her family had any contact with her was on February 10.

They are frantically trying to find any information about her.

Here is a link to the information on NPR.

At the top of the page is an audio link to an interview with her father. The interview is longer than the article, more in depth and better. Give it a listen.

Photo:
provided by Saberi's family to NPR. Roxana Saberi with former Iranian President Mohammad Khatami.