The Oars Are Here--Yay!

After a pretty long wait--you can't rush an artist--the 9'6" Sitka spruce spoons arrived in Thunder Bay at the DHL terminal. All the folks I talked to on the phone there couldn't have been nicer, more on the ball, or more helpful. But their 800 number and their email communication couldn't have been less helpful, slower to respond or more discombobulated. it took me seven calls over two weeks to get the address and the phone number, one from some dude in Vancouver and one from some chick in Texas...aaarghhh! And then there was the email guy or whatever he or she was--Sumair Ashraf. Write me back after seven days apologizing on behalf of DHL. Paul Bagshaw at least kept me posted on the progress of the oar making.

So Davey and I took the oars out on the big Norse pram, and they are actually about a foot too long for that deal. Hands crossed over, but I really liked the way they pulled. Now I need to get my boat away from its eternal residency at the motor-repair shop, so I can at least row that around a little bit before it gets nasty out. A little fall fishing would be great.

Row, Row, Row Some More

Last evening I took the smaller of the two Norse prams out for a bit, just out to the end of Artist's Point and back. I liked the fact that I could place my feet just right for pushing off of the stern seat. After about 35 or 40 minutes out, however, there was about two or three inches of water amidships. Since we have gotten no rain now for a month or so, the boats have been high and dry on the boat-slides there at North House and could probably use a dunking. There were a couple of streams of water pouring back out where the floor planks join the transom when I pulled her up on the beach. Dryers are done. Gotta go.

Rowing with Rain & Kris & Ben & Miles

After having a campfire down on the beach last night, and musical beds last night on the hottest night of the year, and after a couple of great pony rides on Frisky the Magic Pony, and Mary just wiggling and eating constantly, Ben Cervenka came over for a visit, and then about 4:30 we headed off to the harbor to take the Batteau out in the rollers coming on over from Michigan. Rain and Kris really got the boat moving and Ben too. Miles (three going on four now) was sitting up in the bow cuddled up with Ben and singing his rowing song out on the wind. The Professor came sailing by and showed us the bungie-ties he rigged to hold the oars back in the thole-pins. That really helped. We stayed in the harbor, but we went around both ways before we decided to head in for smoked salmon, whitefish and trout, and some creamed dilled herring. Damn, that was good. What a nice weekend with the kids!

The LOONNNG GOOODDBBYYYE

So there it is. The last show of How to Talk Minnesotan the Musical was yesterday afternoon. It's so transitory, that live theatre thing. We struck the set last night, it took about 2 1/4 hours to demolish the illusion of the Lost Walleye Lodge. I was surprised how much more time and work it was doing a musical than a play. These nice folks who came yesterday said, "that sort of silliness is just what we need right now." It's funny how material as irrelevant and vapid as that becomes popular in hard times. "The Grapes of Wrath" it isn't, but there is a certain value to celebrating our ordinary understated customs and ways of thinking and talking, traditional foolishness the way it used to be. To quote Lucy Humde, "That's just the way it is, so we do it." I sure enjoyed singing those sweet harmonies and sort of "dancing" in the show. It was fun. Goodbye until we meet again, Miller Johnson, part of the Muskies.

Hotdish Hallelujah and Tall Ships

We had our pre-brush-up rehearsal "cast party" tonight with like ten different versions of the Minnesota standard fare. There was some good ol' comfort food and six different bars I had to try. I'm still stuffed to the gills. It was out in the yard in perfect (70s) weather, and it just so happened that one of the tall ships was heading to Duluth just off Artist's Point.

That thing was flying. Dennis Bradley and (I think) Stephano Man went out to meet them in the "Black Hjordis" as little Andrew likes to call it. They only had half of their sails halfway raised, and they just flew by those tiny boats. Maybe with the fuel situation like it is, shipping may have to go with wind power again. It sure would be more of a "beautyway." Blog entry over.

Gone to see Craig

Instead of the H.S. reunion, which could only be upsetting, I'm heading over to Remer to see Ole Bodson, whom I haven't seen for 19 years. He's camping out with his family (I remember his sister Sherri made thin sliced potatoes roasted in tinfoil with Laury's Seasoned Salt over there at Mabel Lake campground.) I have to bring some rice. I also have to take Kostya, the 19 year-old boy that lives with us, to work at 5;45 AM. Guess I'd better quit this then. Should be fun. Then I have to come back in time to make hotdish before our brush-up rehearsal at six o'clock the next day. It's tater-tot, with Eye-talian sausage and Jalapeno sausage. The oars are coming soon, I hope, from Island Oars in Nanaimo, B.C. I'm hoping I can pick them up at the truck terminal in Thunder Bay. The boat is at the shop, because the motor overheats. I can't even get my own website up on this stupid dish here, on either computer.

Non-Beautyway Enterprise

So now "How to Talk Minnesotan the Musical" is up and running, then. I'm playing the part of Miller Johnson at the Grand Marais Playhouse. It's the first musical I've ever done. We're having fun with it, now that we're done struggling. To quote Miller himself, "It's hard. It's hard!" One number, "If a Guy" kept us guessing right up through the opening. It's sort of a silly thing, but clever in terms of identifying how language directly reflects the character(s) of the culture that uses it. It's a great hardworking cast and band and crew I'm lucky enough to do this with. "Though, Yahbut...'nough said!