grand children are our
best gift to the world – life is
worthwhile that leads to them

In one of later books about Lake Wobegon, Garrison Keillor writes about visiting and old love and classmate who has cancer.

Mr. Keillor writes, “She is busy enjoying this world in the time she has left, lucky to have her granddaughter Annabelle living under her roof, Annabelle who was pulled out of school because it was holding her back, an ambitious reader who at the age of nine is done with children’s books and making her way into Dickens. He believed in the contagion of good humor and kindness even in the midst of sickness and suffering, which I, the English major, felt was sentimentalism, the idea of laughter in the hovels of the poor, but Dickens knew it firsthand and so does Annabelle. Laughter is not a privilege, it’s a basic element of humanity. And she loves his language. Like Dickens, she believes love is stronger than evil. And her grandma adores this child, curly black hair, brilliant smile, lying on the floor with her legs up on the sofa, book in hand. Arlene said to me, “I used to think that intelligence and happiness were somehow contrary, and I look at Annabelle and see that they go together hand in glove. She is my best gift to the world. My life seems worthwhile now that I know it leads to Annabelle.”

I was lucky to spend the last couple of days with 2 of my grand daughters and video talk with two more today and earlier this week with my grandson and his sister, and 2 weekends ago, travel with yet another of my grand daughters.

I am not dying with cancer and I am glad I read this early in my old age.

I DO wonder what makes my life worthwhile sometimes.

Then I read that last line.

My grand children are my best gift to the world.

My life indeed does seem worthwhile that I know it leads to these kids.

And I also know I am lucky as well as happy that to find this out while I have opportunity to enjoy it.

*Boomtown by Garrison Keillor, Blaine, MN, Prairie Home Productions, 2022.

an endless fund of
useless knowledge I understand
… but floyd of rosedale?

Over the years I have accumulated an endless fund of useless knowledge.

I have probably forgot more things now than I remember.

I remember that I know this things.

But I don’t remember or recall quickly what the thing is that I am trying to remember.

Much like Yogi Berra knowing that at home he had a Mickey Mantle rookie baseball card. He knew he had it somewhere because he knew but he didn’t want to look for it because he might not find it so knowing it had was more important than knowing he looked for it and didn’t find it.

When I was kid, we would often play the home edition of the game, Jeopardy.

Out of the box, the game came with little clickers which were either soon broken or we took them to play paratroopers at D Day as portrayed with clickers in the movie The Longest Day.

You would use the clicker to answer the question.

I mean, as it was Jeopardy, you would use the clicker to give the question that went with the answer.

Without the clickers, we would just clap our hands and then argue over who clapped first.

Every once in a awhile our Dad would play for a few rounds.

He would hear the answer, “John Nance Gardner” and know that he knew the question but instead of clapping his hands he would say, “JUST WAIT – I KNOW THIS” and then he would think a minute and we would wait, and then he would say, “Who was FDR’s Vice President for his first two terms.”

Then he would clap.

And we would laugh and laugh and say no, no no.

I was always good at Jeopardy myself but my ultimate moment was when I was taking a nap when the TV was and Jeopardy was on and they had a VISUAL Daily Double, which meant there was a picture of the building on the screen

I woke enough to hear the TV but my face was still buried in the sofa when the feller said, “This Art Museum …”

Without waiting to for the clue to finish or looking at the TV, I yelled “What is the Guggenheim.”

Which was correct.

I sat up and my wife looked at me with the look of oh brother.

And I said, “Name another art museum you can identify from seeing the building?“

But I digress.

So there it is.

I read a lot.

I search out odd facts.

I know a lot of useless things.

Oddly enough, back in the day when “Who Wants to be a Millionaire” was a hot show, no one and I mean, NO ONE ever said to me, “Mike if I get on that show, would you be be my ‘phone a a friend?’“

To tell you the truth, I think deep down no one would trust me to not try to be funny and slip them the wrong answer like of course it was Rutherford B. Hayes who was the first President to use a typewriter … even though everyone knows it was Woodrow Wilson.”

It would be too much temptation to go for the laugh and my friends knew it.

So here I sit.

All this accumulated knowledge and nothing to show for it.

I will admit that I do wonder where it all came from somedays.

And some days, I wonder, why do I know that?

Take the other day.

Watching the college football scores and half listening I heard the words, “Floyd of Rosedale goes back to Iowa City” and the other feller on TV says ” whattttt??”

I mean gee whiz.

Who hasn’t heard of Floyd of Rosedale?

On the other hand.

Why do I?