A Good Job

I like my job, however there was a time when I loved my job. I was once a radio announcer, a most enjoyable occupation. I ended up in a conversation with Chris Melbye, also a radio alumnus, about a month ago. We both gushed to one another about how we enjoyed our radio days and I made a note to share a few stories about my radio career in my column.

First off, the radio you see isn’t always the radio you hear. As a young sports announcer in Fosston, Minnesota, I would arrive well before the game to string cords from my spot on the bleachers to a phone in the Athletic Directors. That is how we go the audio feed back to the station for broadcast. I used up lots of duct tape and the knees of my pants taping hundreds of feet of cord to a gymnasium floor. I would then try to scrape off the dust and sweat and transition into the relaxed sports announcer you might have heard on your radio, circa late 80’s.

Sports announcers must possess stamina; I recall one Saturday schedule that included a volleyball tournament in Thief River Falls, Minnesota, the “Coaches Corner” show in between volleyball matches then finishing up my day standing on a van in a snowmobile suit announcing a football game in Plummer. We used to mount a twenty-five foot antennae mast to the station van when I announced football games at the old Fosston station. Imagine standing on top of a van, trying to counter the leverage from a tall mast in heavy winds, all the while trying to remember twenty-two different players on the football field.

Working at the studio was also a challenge, like the first night I operated the Fosston station in 1987. Small-town stations typically had lots of local programming at the time. I had to read the local news, connect with the Bagley and Mahnomen news correspondents by phone, read the public service announcements and the obituaries all in my first hour. The station manager appreciated my anxiety at that moment and told me I would do fine, then scurried to his car to listen to me slowly die on the air. It actually went pretty well, but I would have “dead-air” dreams the first few weeks of my employment. People listen to radio to hear something and “dead-air” is when the announcer fails to provide for that need; it can be a nightmare. The people were good to me there and it was a nice place; although maybe a bit lonely for a 19 year old. I learned a lot about radio and myself in Fosston.

I hit stride when I worked at KKAQ in Thief River Falls. I was the sports director in addition to my duties as announcer. I was comfortable on the air and country music was finally getting back to its traditional roots. I also had people like Danni Halvorson and Kevin Nelson to help me with sports play by play by adding their color commentary. I really enjoyed my on-air shift and would imagine that I was talking to a family member, which made it more comfortable for me to talk and for others to listen. I started out at KKAQ working from six to ten at night. My friend, Mike Anderson, would come by during the last hour of my shift to visit, help me pick out music and then go out for the night. It was really nice.

Later I worked a regular day shift, the only time in my life when I haven’t had to work at night. On the week-end; I would arise at five-thirty in the morning, call the transmitter by phone to get it warmed up, then dash into town to arrive at the studio ten seconds before my shift, kick the transmitter into “broadcast mode,” turn on the news and collapse into my chair. Sundays were even better; I just made sure the church services were on the air and I could sit in the sun of the front lobby buried under the blanket I brought from home.

Al Melbye (that’s Chris Melbye’s dad) always used to tease me that I used my “radio voice” when I answered the phone at work. I don’t believe much of that polished delivery is left when I speak, however the memories still linger. Radio was a good job.

 

(my radio program just posted on www.ruralreflections.net 2:55 pm-GN)
 

Straw Removal

(when your are finished with this weeks column, you can check out this week’s radio program at www.ruralreflections.net)

 

A little spring cleaning is a cheap way to beautify your home. Spring cleaning can also be a mind expanding time for self-reflection and discovery at our home. I’ll try explain myself.

I always insulate our septic tank and drain field every winter with a layer of straw. A big part of getting our yard ready for spring is straw removal. This is simple, tedious work which gives my mind plenty of opportunity to do its own cleaning and unload the reams of “useless knowledge” I’ve acquired in the past year. After this little mind flush, I can usually come up with a few deep thoughts-perhaps even a revelation.

This week, I trained my unburdened mind on the straw bales directly above the septic tank. There arises heat from the septic tank all winter and so the area under the straw bales is a sort of tropical resort for small animals. It’s actually an area undiscovered by most as old straw, septic tanks and mice are not pleasant conversation for most folks. Most oceanographers will remind you that while we have explored a good deal of Space and much of the Moon, we have explored very little of our own oceans. This same premise extends to the area under the straw bales and on top of the septic tank, it’s quite unexplored-probably for good reason.

Now it might just be the mold I breathed that rose from my efforts with the straw, but I began to think about how I perform a given task. I used to work around our place like I was fighting a dragon under great duress; I now welcome these little tasks and the dragons are more like house pets. I have begun to work like an old man. I kind of enjoy the tasks and perform them in a steady way that takes a bit longer than in the past but is much more rewarding. I used to end a task with heart burn because I put so much pressure on myself to get everything done quickly, this week I decided it would take as long as needed and peacefully finished. I’m not sure this is the way people accomplish great things, however I am pretty sure it’s a way to feel great while accomplishing things.

I also considered my own place in the world during this week’s straw removal. I had a good conversation this week about what is really important in life and what it means to feel accomplished. I cannot name all of the Presidents of the United States but I can name every teacher who’s made a difference in my life. I would not travel twenty feet out of my way to shake hands with a celebrity but will happily travel the fifteen miles to see our godson and his family.

Time spent seeking accolades for fleeting notoriety leaves you empty while being good at your job will get you a good night’s sleep, that’s an accomplishment. If you take the time to thoroughly teach someone a skill, then you are the giant whose shoulders upon which they will stand, that‘s an important accomplishment. If you spend your time making your family stronger, they will honor you for generations to come, a good place to be in the world. If you see each task as an opportunity for improvement and not as an inconvenience, it’s no longer as task but rather a chance to find your place in the world.

So I learned a little while removing straw this week; what it is to be accomplished, my place in the world and even how to leave a little legacy. I wish I had more to tell you, however there was only so much straw.

Letter to Dave

Dear Dave,

Congratulations, you’re an Uncle! There was a time when I had enough
cows that one individual birth wasn’t a big deal. Since I now
specialize mostly in finishing steers, the birth of a calf is
special-and surprising. I named our newborn after the guys who
covered my work shift so I could stay home and fret; the newborn is Mark
Adam Nelson-Angus calf. I guess you can’t really be an Uncle to an animal
but please remember never to bring that fact up around our cats.

I’m sure it’s too early to be out in the fields near Carrington,
North Dakota; still, there must be a few nervous farmers trying to
drag the high ground. It’s probably good therapy but considering the
cost of fuel and damage to wet soil, maybe they should instead try yoga or beer and
popcorn-two of the three have always worked for me.

It is wet here, really wet. The fields look like they are covered
with anxiety-driven flop sweat, like they’re as nervous about spring
planting as farmers. Fortunately, the last few days have been warm
and windy, it’s almost like the weather is trying to make up for the
wet fall and cold winter. I’m not in a big hurry, I will plant
more pasture and just a little corn this year. Trying to get our little field of corn
harvested last fall has put me off row crops for good. Dad told me
that corn matures too late for this area, I should have listened.

I will no-till some corn and soybeans for the cattle to eat in
the August heat. Together, those two crops make a nice balance for pasture
cattle to finish on. I like fencing off a day’s worth of feed at a
time and then let the steers go crazy, their enjoyment and salivation
pass for appreciation.

My projects are starting to line up pretty well; I just finished
gluing plywood to the back side of the wood siding on our barn. I had
planned to use steel siding but opted to make the wood siding last
a bit longer with some reinforcement. I stood on a ladder in the hay mow
to place the higher boards and so far have yet to fall. I hate
heights so everything I do is twice as hard because I move so stiffly
from fear and grip the ladder fiercely, even though I am inside and quite safe. When I am near the
peak of the roof it’s really unsettling to think that air, fear and a
good, thorough bone-crushing fall awaits; all just a board’s thickness
away. It has been a white knuckle project and I am glad to be finished.

We recently had the steps on our house rebuilt. The old steps rose about
seven inches per step. We extended the total run out to about ten feet and
made each step rise only a couple of inches. I can now run a wheel
barrow full of corn, for our stove, right up the steps. It’s also
lovely to walk up the steps as each step demands so little effort,
however there are three times as many treads. I wanted it to make hauling corn easier, but it would also work great for older people or someone with bad knees. I included a picture so you can see what I mean.

If we were sitting at mom and dad’s place right now the “bird clock” would be making the loon call; I guess it’s time to go.

You’re little bro’
 

 

(below is a picture of the steps I talk about in my column-GN.)

 

Take the Survey

I picked up my TRForward community survey this week. TRForward appears to be an organized collection point for proposals of what should become of Thief River Falls, Minnesota. I’ve had several different ideas about Thief River and the survey helped me sharpen them up to a point that I want to share them today.

First off, get the survey and spend a little time filling it out. The simple act of filling out the survey will make you more involved in what happens to Thief River. The survey asks for your ideas on specific projects then follows up with two questions, “should taxes be used to build” and “should taxes be used to maintain and operate” these projects. It forces you to prioritize your concept of how Thief River should grow and entertain itself. I found myself tending more towards small projects that would enhance the activities people are already engaged in on a regular basis. The recent poor economy has forced us to focus on goals that are less expensive such as personal wellness, both physically and financially, and this should be reflected in how we play. I’ve always thought Finsbury Park would be a great place for a fenced dog-walking area, and the addition of Porta-potties by the dam during fishing season would be fairly inexpensive additions.

The survey has a section about whether we like the restaurants and retail stores in town. I think our retail stores are solid. I recently compared my trip to a Grand Forks lumber yard to one in Thief River. Although, I spent a little less in Grand Forks, it was not a pleasant experience and the employees their could offer me no advice as their average age was 12. I think the main strong point for TRF businesses is experience, service and long term contact -I consider many of these people to be friends. One problem I’ve noticed is a resistance to change. My wife and I have ordered items from the corporate hub of a local franchisee and then had the item delivered to the local store. We both were then lectured by the store owner that they “don’t get a dime” from the purchase. Our visit to the local store was generated by the technology of the internet and would have been an excellent opportunity for the retailer to deepen our relationship, or sell us something else while we were at the store.

Downtown is a problem, it’s a frequent topic. The downtown businesses seem quite strong but the empty buildings overshadow the fact; downtown Thief River reminds of a gorgeous, healthy woman with a really bad hair cut. I love old buildings, however if some downtown buildings are too inefficient to support business maybe they should be torn down. Look how much better downtown East Grand Forks looks after the flood forced them to re-build. I think downtown Thief River is in the midst of a flood caused by a changing economy and a change in the scale of the stores in which we shop. It is exposing what works and what doesn’t work downtown.

I think downtown should become more residential. It will take a fair amount of initial cost but your first loss is most often your best loss. Tear down the freestanding buildings for which there is no tenant and make them into downtown parks or a town square. Downtown is strong, just remove the dead weight it‘s carrying. Empty first floor stores might be made into town homes. Even a large, empty department store could be made into condominiums with individual utilities so no one has to maintain old boilers and water heaters. These might make great entry-level homes for young couples. All of this would take money, but empty stores depress downtown, invite vandalism and vagrancy plus they cost money too.

I compare Thief River to our nation’s economy-we’re at a crossroads. Much like our nation, we are also at a time when a little effort, creativity and initial cost could pay huge dividends when played out into the future. This area needs ideas. I’ve always said it takes 100 ideas to make ten good ones, and it takes ten good ideas for one that makes money. Let’s get some ideas, go fill out the survey.

Here is a link to some more information on the TRFoward survey.

www.trftimes.com/index.php

 

A New Arrival

I sold our cows a few years ago, I now purchase feeder cattle and finish them
out on grass. Last year, I did take on a couple of heifers for the
winter just because they were part of a group. I planned to trade
them to my brother for more feeders. Plans are great, but nature is greater; last week we had a surprise birth at our farm.

I came home Friday night and immediately noticed the heifer sitting
by herself, legs out to the side, in calving mode. I used to calve out about 40 cows but I was really set-up for it then, this was going to be an extemporaneous birth. I got my
work clothes on and warmed up the tractor. I planned to lay down some
bedding in the barn which is kind of the equivalent of boiling water
during a human birth-it keeps the man busy. While I was being busy, I heard the heifer bawl
once and found her calf already on the ground. The little heifer reacted like an old veteran;
she licked her calf clean and just generally mothered her well. For my part, I took some bedding and made little piles around the calf to give it some comfort and left hay for the
cow. Every able-bodied steer came to check things out and stumble
through the scene, so I stood guard with a pitchfork until their
short attention spans were exhausted.

The next day, I checked on the pair to make sure things were okay. I should have been at work; instead I used some vacation time and stayed home. Adam Tongen and Mark Bruggeman made this possible by sharing my shift for which I am thankful. I needed to make sure the little calf got the colostrums milk he needed and adjusted to life. That morning, the calf had sucked from the front quarter of the heifer and got both front and back quarters in the afternoon. Farmers with cattle will appreciate how relieved I was that I didn’t have to try and introduce the little calf to his first taste of milk-its not an easy task.

The night of the birth, I remember going up to the barn to turn the lights off. The barn has a hip roof so the interior looks kind of majestic with the lights on. It felt a little like church and I considered how my efforts to help the heifer and calf had done very little. What the heifer needed was provided by nature and my affect on the outcome was pretty small. It’s like that in life, we are given the gift of life and an afterlife. We then spend our time on earth trying to earn this gift with good deeds. Truth is, life is a gift and you should just accept it and then do good things out of the kindness of your heart-not for reward or to make people think you’re something great.

Back to the calf, he’s doing fine and looks good. However, I needed a name for him. I thought about how nice it was that Mark and Adam had worked my shift so I could take care of the calf. Actually, the naming rights seemed pretty obvious. Ladies and gentlemen; I would like to introduce to you, for the very first time, Mark Adam Nelson-Angus calf.
 

Here’s a picture if you like, it was too big to post here.

grantnelson00.tripod.com/angus_calf