01/28/2011

Reply to Ellen Myrick Graff (58) Posting yesterday:
From Lindy (Arlinda) Fauske Van Eynde (69): Yorkville, IL
 

Hi Gary,

I really appreciate all that you put into this blog, you have reached a lot of people and make their day, what a blessing this is to so many.

I was just wondering if you know when and where that 25’ of snow was? There was no date on the article from the Minot Paper.

I did see Bud at Dad’s birthday party but didn’t really get to visit with him, just so many people, what a fun day that was.

Hope all is well for you and all your family.

Take care,

Lindy Fauske Van Eynde

Lindy,

 

 

Speaking of your folks, Stubby and Elwood. Yesterday we received a very nice Christmas card from them.When you talk to them, please tell them thank you from us.

 

 

Gary and Bernadette

 

 

 

Reply to yesterday’s question

From Sharon Longie Dana (73): MIssoula MT

 

Gary,

 

Alan Potira’s birthday is Feb. 22md.

 

Sharon Longie Dana (73)

 

 
Horses
Reply from Florence Hiatt Dahl (50): Anchorage, AK
 

horses–everyone raised on a farm has at least one story of a horse…..we had two very passive horses that Don and I would climb on bareback- and woulf go for a ride. woderful–tell they got weary of us. And they knew just how low a branch they needed—to scrape us off–and then of course we would have to walk home.

 

 

 

 

Horse Story

From Bill Hosmer (48): Tucson, AZ

 

Gary and friends. The horse stories are tremendous. The last time I was on a horse was about 70 years ago, and I have not missed it one iota. My folks were visiting the Fred Richard family farm. Jerrine, my aunt Lee’s sister was riding a young bronc bareback around the county road lines and doing it on a dead gallop. I thought, hell, if a girl can do that this guy ought to be able to do it even better. The folly began when we took a slow pace out of the farm yard onto the roadway, and things were looking good. Went south for about a quarter of a mile then turned around to head back, so far so good. As we got about 100 yards from the gate to the farm, that horse went into afterburner and I’m looking for survival at this uncontrolled dash home. What I did not expect was that critter took a sudden lurch to the east into the barnyard, and I continued on a northern heading and hit the dirt with a graceless and painful impact on my rear. Jerrine, Lee, my folks and Lee’s folks did not laugh at this city boy trying to be a cowboy, but I think they were snickering at this ego trip. Horses are just wonderful. It’s just that airplanes are more controllable. Bill Hosmer
 
 
 

 

Horse Story

From Dwight Lang (61): Tucson, AZ

Hey Dick,

Your Dad, Don, had the right idea but a little off on his approach. Need long reins and ride bareback, when the mare rears up, slide off, but hit the ground on your feet, step back and pull her the rest of the way over. A time of two with that treatment and somehow she learns it’s better to keep the front end down. This worked for me on Dusty, Amigo and Kit.

Take care,

Dwight

PS: Cold winter day in Tucson, 65 and sunny at 1 PM.

 

 

 

 

Cliff Metcalfe – Horses

Story/Pictures from Vickie Metcalfe (70): Bottineau, ND

 

Gary and friends,

Attached are 2 photos of my dad and his horse, winter of 1940 -1941, taken I believe before he and Bill Peterson embarked to find work in Seattle.

 

Dad lived for a time during his teenage years with the Seim family;

Art and Eva, John and Grandma Seim. Margaret, Marion and Edwin. While there he forged many fond memories of all the people who worked on this big working grain and cattle farm. The Seim family were life long “mentors” to my parents.

 

Art Seim was a master with horses. He always kept well mannered, great groomed horses. He grew up in the times when young boys comb and brush horses and maintain their rigs in tip top condition.____Just as fellows of today with their polished trucks, boats and automobiles and revved up, finely tuned engines.

 

There were times in my childhood, I’d find my self filling up with excitement! I hear the “jingle-jangle, well modulated sleigh bells ringing”! Art would drive his team to our farm, pulling a cutter. How those horses shone. The horses enjoyed their “bells” on. They fairly danced, enjoying themselves. Sometimes he’d braid their tails,__ far better than I could braid my hair.

 

Oh, boy then, what a sleigh ride!

 

In his later years, Art worked with Jake Gardiner, uncle of Trish.

 

I know Art held a belief that, “You can’t become smarter than the horse by beating them almost to death” when they’d fall down trying to pull a load. Art had a distaste for animal cruelty.

 

Art never retired his interest or love of horses, livestock or farming.

 

Yep, if he’d had a resume, one at the top of his many strengths would have been Master Horseman. He knew to get the best out of a horse, never with beatings or violence.

 

Art’s way was based on mutual respect.

 

Vickie

Cliff Metcalfe – 1941
 


 
 
Colonoscopies
Message/Story from Trish Larson Wild (73): FORT COLLINS, CO
 
Hey Gary,

 

A friend of mine sent me this piece that is quite funny and all you soon to be 65ers should listen up and get your colonoscopies done! Really? It’s a great way to stave off colon cancer (which my mom died of at 62, so ya’ll have her record beat). I had one last year, and yes, it was like a rocket launch the night before….

 

But the reassurance after the completely pain free procedure was a great feeling.. I agree – I’ve never been so proud one of my internal organs!

 

Read on, and enjoy. Dave Barry is one hilarious journalist with the Miami Herald. When I was living in Grand Forks, ND, we all read it because our Grand Forks Herald carried it, and it was always worth a chuckle. So everyone was up in arms when he wrote disparaging (humorous) comments about North Dakota, and our fair city! We all laughed anyway, but the Mayor at the time got the brilliant idea to write to him in Miami and invite him to attend the dead of winter fishing contest in the less than delectable waters of the Red River. Citizens sent a deluge of emails backing up the offer, and they planned a big “pot luck” supper for him, with homes on the south side to bring hot dish and the homes on the north side bringing green jello. There may have been more assignments, but I can’t remember right now. He accepted the invitation and most of the town showed up to welcome him, holding xerox copied photos of his face on a popsicle stick in front of their faces. It was a hoot, and we actually ate all the food. Just like any church supper, and who wants to miss that? He of course has a grand sense of humor and took the -30+ temps in stride, of course writing a humorous piece about ND when he got home. It was good to have some belly laughs in the dead of winter that year. I suppose

I could google around and see if I can find the piece. I think your North Dakota readers will get a chuckle out of it. In the meantime, here’s the age appropriate humor below:

ABOUT THE WRITER
Dave Barry is a Pulitzer Prize-winning humor columnist for the
Miami Herald.

Colonoscopy Journal:

 

I called my friend Andy Sable, a gastroenterologist, to make an appointment for a colonoscopy.

A few days later, in his office, Andy showed me a color diagram of the colon,

a lengthy organ that appears to go all over the place, at one point passing briefly

through Minneapolis.

Then Andy explained thecolonoscopy procedure to me in a thorough, reassuring

and patient manner.

I nodded thoughtfully, but I didn’t really hear anything he said, because my brain

was shrieking, ‘HE’S GOING TO STICK A TUBE 17,000 FEET UP YOUR BEHIND!’
I left Andy’ s office with some written instructions, and a prescription
for a product called ‘MoviPrep,’ which comes in a box large enough to hold a

microwave oven. I will discuss MoviPrep in detail later; for now suffice it to say

that we must never allow it to fall into the hands of America’s enemies.

I spent the next several days productively sitting around being nervous.
Then, on the day before my colonoscopy, I began my preparation. In accordance

with my instructions, I didn’t eat any solid food that day; all I had was chicken broth,

which is basically water, only with less flavor.

Then, in the evening, I took the MoviPrep. You mix two packets of powder together

in a one-liter plastic jug, then you fill it with lukewarm water. (For those unfamiliar

with the metric system, a liter is about 32 gallons). Then you have to drink the

whole jug. This takes about an hour, because MoviPrep tastes – and here I am

being kind – like a mixture of goat spit and urinal cleanser, with just a hint of
lemon.

The instructions for MoviPrep, clearly written by somebody with a great sense

of humor, state that after you drink it, ‘a loose, watery bowel movement may result.’
This is kind of like saying that after you jump off your roof, you may experience

contact with the ground.

MoviPrep is a nuclear laxative. I don’t want to be too graphic, here, but, have

you ever seen a space-shuttle launch? This is pretty much the MoviPrep experience,

with you as the shuttle. There are times when you wish the commode had a seat belt.

You spend several hours pretty much confined to the bathroom, spurting violently. You eliminate everything.

And then, when you figure you must be totally empty, you have to drink another

liter of MoviPrep, at which point, as far as I can tell, your bowels travel into the

future and start eliminating food that you have not even eaten yet.

After an action-packed evening, I finally got to sleep.
The next morning my wife drove me to the clinic. I was very nervous.
Not only was I worried about the procedure, but I had been experiencing
occasional return bouts of MoviPrep spurtage. I was thinking, ‘What if I spurt on

Andy?’ How do you apologize to a friend for something like that?

Flowers would not be enough.

At the clinic I had to sign many forms acknowledging that I understood and totally
agreed with whatever the heck the forms said. Then they led me to a room full
of other colonoscopy people, where I went inside a little curtained space and
took off my clothes and put on one of those hospital garments designed by
sadist perverts, the kind that, when you put it on, makes you feel even more
naked than when you are actually naked.

Then a nurse named Eddie put a little needle in a vein in my left hand.
Ordinarily I would have fainted, but Eddie was very good, and I was already lying

down. Eddie also told me that some people put vodka in their MoviPrep..

At first I was ticked off that I hadn’t thought of this, but then I pondered what

would happen if you got yourself too tipsy to make it to the bathroom, so you were
staggering around in full Fire Hose Mode. You would have no choice but to burn

your house.

When everything was ready, Eddie wheeled me into the procedure room, where

Andy was waiting with a nurse and an anesthesiologist. I did not see the 17,000-foot

tube, but I knew Andy had it hidden around there somewhere. I was seriously

nervous at this point.

Andy had me roll over on my left side, and the anesthesiologist began hooking

something up to the needle in my hand.
There was music playing in the room, and I realized that the song was

‘Dancing Queen’ by ABBA. I remarked to Andy that, of all the songs that could be

playing during this particular procedure, ‘Dancing Queen’ had to be the least appropriate.
‘You want me to turn it up?’ said Andy, from somewhere behind me.

‘Ha ha,’ I said. And then it was time, the moment I had been dreading for more than a decade. If you are squeamish, prepare yourself, because I am going to tell you, in explicit
detail, exactly what it was like. I have no idea. Really. I slept through it. One moment,

ABBA was yelling ‘Dancing Queen, feel the beat of the tambourine,’ and the next
moment, I was back in the other room, waking up in a very mellow mood.

Andy was looking down at me and asking me how I felt. I felt excellent. I felt even

more excellent when Andy told me that It was all over, and that my colon had
passed with flying colors. I have never been prouder of an internal organ.

On the subject of Colonoscopies…
Colonoscopies are no joke, but these comments during the exam were quite
humorous…… A physician claimed that the following are actual comments
made by his patients (predominately male) while he was performing their
colonoscopies:

1. ‘Take it easy, Doc. You’re boldly going where no man has gone before!’
2. ‘Find Amelia Earhart yet?’
3. ‘Can you hear me NOW?’
4. ‘Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?’
5. ‘You know, in Arkansas , we’re now legally married.’
6. ‘Any sign of the trapped miners, Chief?’
7. ‘You put your left hand in, you take your left hand out…’
8. ‘Hey! Now I know how a Muppet feels!’
9. ‘If your hand doesn’t fit, you must quit!’
10. ‘Hey Doc, let me know if you find my dignity.’
11. ‘You used to be an executive at Enron, didn’t you?’
12. ‘God, now I know why I am not gay.’


And the best one of all:
13. ‘Could you write a note for my wife saying that my head is not up there?