Steve Fernlund and The Long Way Home

My loyal readers, family, and most of my friends know that I am not undecided about how I will cast my vote for president this year.  My decision, already made, is about more than party, believe it or not.  My grandfather, who died before I reached puberty, passed on a valuable message that I’ve carried for more than six decades. He’d say, “No matter what, leave things a little better than when you found them.” That’s why the “leave no trace” ethic of the BWCAW and golf courses appeals to me.  I haven’t been in the BWCAW since the early 1970s, but I have spent a fair number of hours on golf courses. Golfers know that a well-hit ball leaves a divot and a ball landing on the green leaves a mark. The ethic is to repair your divot/mark and at least one other. Leave the course better than you found it.  During and after the most recent presidential “debate,” the media brought together panels of undecided voters for before-and-after consultations. Most of these folks' comments indicate t

Who remembers the late Gilda Radner, playing  Roseanne Rosannadanna on Saturday Night Live and proclaiming, "It's always something!" Radner, a baby boomer herself, helped my generation convey our sense of frustration with constant challenges or problems.  Those words have echoed around the Fernlund household for many weeks now as we attempted to resolve a plumbing issue that should have been relatively simple, according to YouTubers.  It all started a couple of months ago when we noticed the outflow of water from our Kohler kitchen faucet was diminishing. Like our eyesight fading and hearing going away, it was a slow but deliberate process. It might be something that I, the least handy of handymen, could fix.  The plumbing, electrical, and most other infrastructure in our house were DIY years ago, so with a house like this, it’s always something. We dove into the internet world of problem-solving. Many YouTube experts reported a similar flow problem (as an older person, I

Northshore Journal   Reading books is my favorite pastime, mainly because I can do it while I’m eating, drinking, or smoking a pipe.  On the other hand, I should never review books. The following mentions a book and some themes but isn’t a review. But this book is unparalleled if you're seeking a mind-bending exercise that will leave you questioning the very fabric of reality. Several years ago, my friend Joel asked me to join a business consulting firm he started in Portland, OR. The firm served clients in the freight transportation industry, a business I knew more than a little bit about. I’d known Joel for a long time. We “came up” in the freight brokering business during the heady years of deregulation in the 1980s. Mutual respect made working together a rewarding experience. Joel’s management and consulting philosophy centered on the science of quantum physics. This science attempts to explain how the universe works at the smallest scale. It deals in probabilities and observat

The Bohunk, along with our daughter Jess and granddaughter Chloe, joined 138,872 people for opening day at the Minnesota State Fair in St. Paul last week. Turnout set a record for opening day attendance, breaking the 2019 record by almost 5,000 souls--which is not far below the entire population of Cook County.  Although I wasn’t invited to join them, I would never agree to attend the “Great Minnesota Get Together” anyway. There are too many people and noise, and I get antsy when three or more people are in line with me at the grocery store.  The fair was central to my childhood summers living in suburban Minneapolis. It's a place where the ordinary transforms into the extraordinary, a magical escape before the harsh reality of 'back to school' sets in.  The neighborhood gang and I mowed lawns, peddled papers, saved allowances, and hit up friendly uncles for a buck or two to fund a full day of independence at the fair. We were filled with anticipation on the chosen day as o