The Best Laid Plans...

It all started in late August of 2017... let's sum up. Karen was diagnosed with stage 4 ovarian cancer, a six hour surgery lasted thirteen hours and she spent the better part of a year trying not to die. it was miserable. Since then, two more courses of chemo, various cancer related setbacks, and still lots of grit and fight. Ups and Downs.

Along the way, with a thousand other things we talked about, we discussed Bucket List things. Prior to cancer, we had talked about going to Hawaii for our 15th wedding anniversary. That came around in 2018 when we were pretty deep in cancer recovery, chemo, and other crappy things. So we decided to push it out and maybe do it on our twentieth. That will roll around in 2023.

Then, the weekend after Thanksgiving 2020, Karen had trouble with balance and vision and nausea, and we took her in to get checked over because...weird. At first they briefly considered stroke, but a CT scan showed a brain tumor instead. The ovarian cancer had done the incredibly rare thing of jumping the brain blood barrier and growing a little grapey sized nugget of tumor in her left cerebral padunkle, that part of the brain that controls coordination and body functions and in general is very important. She had gamma knife surgery to attack the tumor in early December and has been doing Physical Therapy (PT) since. 

All of this to say that this new event got us to talking about bucket lists again. My list is huge, of course, because I want to do ALL THE THINGS. My brain is scattered and easily distracted that way.

Karen on the other hand has always had a very short list. She has said (and I agree) that we have led a life blessed with opportunities to check things off of the bucket lists that sometimes we didn't even know were on the list! Travel, experiences, foods, all sorts of things. She ran a B&B, has travelled abroad, spent a month in Rome, and we've had many, many amazing adventures domestically as well. Freezing while winter camping in the Black Hills, exploring the Florida Keys, LOTS of Disney World magic... 

But the one thing that has remained at the top of her list (really the only thing ON the list) is to see Hawaii. It's on my list too, but for almost entirely different reasons. I'm a water guy. I'd rather be in water than on land and live for interacting with critters in the H2O. Karen is not a fan of critters in water coming to greet her. She has no desire to submerge herself past her neck in liquid. So in talking about going to Hawaii - a group of islands completely surrounded by a huge ocean that is famous for water based activities- I was surprised it was on her list.

But she wants to connect with the island, the land itself. To see the tropical jungles, feel the warm air on her skin, hear the sounds. She wants to just be in Hawaii.

Well, around the time of the surgery, we decided to get serious and see if Hawaii would be something we could make happen sooner rather than later. We were both aware that this new development in her cancer journey wasn't going to do any favors for her life expectancy, and if we were going to see Hawaii, it would be better while she's able to independently enjoy it. In other words (not to be depressing) we felt the need to go in case her condition worsens in the future and makes the trip impossible.

So, planning started in earnest. Thanks to covid, school has been shut down, so I haven't been bus driving. But that looked set to change in mid to late January. Thanks to brain surgery, Karen was off work until about the same time. If there was a good time to go, it would be before we went back to work! (Big Lemons call for Big Lemonade) Karen - as she is wont to do - spent most of the planning days feeling guilty about going to Hawaii while on medical leave. She feels that unless she's actively dying, she could work, and she doesn't like leaving her work team short handed. (To the point of since her diagnosis feeling guilty any time she misses work for chemo treatments, or hospital stays, or trips to the ER, or even for surgeries. I've had to talk her into ER trips in the past that she wants to wait on because of work. I'm telling you, she is devoted to her job and the people she works with at an insane level!)  I argued that resting and recuperating is less demanding than work, so the two cannot really be compared. Also, Hawaii has been the go to location for recuperating military personnel for multiple wars, and there would be no better place for PT. Beaches could provide uneven walking surfaces to practice balance. Hiking to see waterfalls, lighthouses, or just jungle flora and fauna would provide excellent stamina building opportunities. Lots of hydrotherapy opportunities, even in pools away from critters! The food would be nutritious. And the whole reason for medical leave is to REST and HEAL and be prepared to get back to work at as near to 100% as possible! She said she didn't think her collogues would approve of her taking a trip with the last week or so of her medical leave, and she didn't want to "abuse the system". My argument? If roles were reversed, and one of her co-workers had chronic and probably terminal cancer that had spread to her brain and wanted to go on a trip to complete a bucket list item - the ONLY item on said list - and they had the opportunity to do so at the end of a medical leave where they had the time off anyway, would she grumble and be mad at said co-worker for going? She might be a little jealous that they were going on an adventure, but she'd also be the one that would pass a card around and gather up some money to wish them a great trip! I have no doubt her co-workers would feel the same about her going to Hawaii.   

 After surgery, she was scheduled for lots of PT to relearn to walk, work on her coordination, relearn self cares, and all that fun stuff that goes along with post brain trauma care. Giving serious consideration to a Hawaii trip increased her already intense motivation to improve during her PT sessions. She was a PT animal! Sessions started to have Hawaii themes. How to get up and down on a beach. Working on stairs in case they're encountered on hikes. Stamina training for the same thing. She put in lots of hard work every time.

We are Disney Vacation Club members (thanks to my wife and her sister who are Disney fanatics) and we were able to book an entire week at their resort on Oahu with the points we had, which we otherwise could have NEVER done at $450/night. (Thanks past Karen and Sarah for talking me into joining DVC!) My amazing mother in law gifted us the airline tickets, and we'd been saving up to do some stuff to the house next spring and summer, so we had some funds to do some "touristy" things once there. So we booked a socially distanced luau with a group that changed their usual style of open buffet dining and groups doing cultural experiences to distanced tables with separate waiters and families doing the cultural things apart from others, with masks and six feet regs in place as well. We booked an outrigger canoe paddle out to some small private islands that would be the four of us and a couple guides. And we booked a snorkel adventure with wild spinner dolphins and sea turtles adventure that would be just us and staff as well. (With Karen staying on the boat and watching us do the snorkeling while chilling with a cold drink and enjoying the ocean air) All the rest of our time was going to be based around Karen. Things we could see together dependent on her energy levels, avoiding crowds, and staying flexible. Short hikes to waterfalls and a lighthouse on paved "trails". Island drives seeking out the best food trucks. The Dole plantation (and Dole Whips). The Byodo-In temple. Botanical gardens. With random stops at many beaches for lounging, resting, and getting some snorkel time in for me and the kids. Or just resting at Aulani and enjoying the offerings there. It was shaping up to be a week with lots of chill time. Just what the doctor ordered. A therapy vacation.

With the pandemic raging, we did hours and hours of research about travel. Hawaii has hoops to jump through to keep their islands safe, and we navigated all of those in our planning as well. Covid tests had to be negative 72 hours before our last flight leg to the state, and registered with the travel authority online, and we had to fill out a health survey 24 hours prior as well. I checked multiple sites to keep track of numbers and trends every day, ready to cancel everything if needed. I cancelled a couple of things that could have higher risks. We went back and forth on whether to even go with covid in the forefront. But it always came back to completing Karen's Bucket Wish List in a timely manner. Under any other circumstances, we'd wait until after the pandemic. Wait until that 2023 twenty year anniversary. But we're both realists. The odds aren't in our favor for that. We'd take every precaution, jump through every hoop, stay well isolated while there. But the risks, while high, were acceptable for the reward.

 Christmas gifts revolved around the trip, with snorkel sets for the kids and me, and beach wraps and island wear for K. Karen went from barely being able to get around with a walker at PT, to cruising around unassisted and impressing her delightfully helpful therapist, Rachel. We knew that hiking Diamondhead wasn't going to be on the list, but it was looking like the shorter, paved trail hikes would be doable! We decided to take the walker along for those so she'd have a seat to rest in wherever we went as well. 

By the night of January 2, 2021, we were pretty well packed and ready to get to the airport in the Twin Cities for our 6 am flight to Phoenix, where we'd catch a connecting flight to Honolulu. After not sleeping due to excitement, we locked up the house and got to the airport with plenty of time to spare. Karen had seemed tired, but then all the activity of the day and night before had worn us all out a bit, and we also did a poor job of eating regular food. She swore she was ok though. I dropped her and the kids off at the American Airline door with the luggage and went to park. When I rejoined them we were met with short-ish, confusing lines, but the nice AA lady was directing us to the self check in kiosks to print out our luggage tags since we had checked in online the night before. When I finally got to a kiosk (it took longer than I had expected because everyone seemed to be needing the assistance of said nice lady to complete the self check in)(and she was the only employee out there for the twenty or so kiosks) I entered our data until the machine told me that I too would need assistance from the attendant. It took her so long to work her way to us that the machine had booted us and we had to start over again. After a few minutes of trying, she was having problems as well. When she discovered we were going to Hawaii, she said we'd need to go to the main counter for assistance. So. Back in line we went. Two attendants were manning those desks, and I got a little twinge that this was taking too long. When we finally got to the desk, it was eight minutes until boarding began for our flight. The lady at the desk said it wouldn't be a problem, we still had plenty of time. By this time, Karen had been up and down from the walker numerous times and I could tell that she was out of energy. We asked about getting a wheelchair to expedite our journey to the gate, so she ordered one, and proceeded to get our bags tagged and boarding passes printed. She directed us to some out of the way seats and told us it would be a couple minutes until the wheelchair assist arrived.

After waiting twenty minutes and all of us getting more and more nervous about missing the flight, Karen decided that she had enough energy to get through security. We just couldn't wait any longer. So we got in line. I had asked several airport employees how long wheelchairs took prior to our getting in line, and as we waited, one of them tracked us down and said they had a golf cart waiting for us just past security to get us to the gate. Karen was so worn out that I ended up pushing her while she sat on the walker through the rest of the security line. By the time the security guy checking ID's finally waved us through, I thought it would take a miracle for us to make the flight. As we loaded Karen onto the cart, the driver told us not to worry because he worked at the gate and was holding the flight for us. He raced through the airport, (but Luke had to run along side since there wasn't room for everyone on the cart) and we got to the gate just in time to see the guy who actually worked there close the door on the walkway. He was not holding the flight for us.

We had missed the flight.

I'll admit that I was a little hot under the collar, and the AA gate attendant called over his manager. I wasn't yelling, but was obviously pissed and I'm guessing he was calling back up to handle me. She said she was sorry, but there was nothing they could do since we were late. I - trying not to yell, but definitely using my perturbed voice - told her that we wouldn't have been late if they perhaps had more than three people checking the hundred plus people in and we hadn't waited twenty minutes for a wheelchair that never arrived. Fortunately, the time of the chair request had been documented AND the lady checking us in had overridden their cutoff times to get our bags on the flight which she shouldn't have done, so the manager quickly realized that this was on them and not us. At that point, they both went into overdrive to help us! The best they could do was get us on a flight the next day and give us a hotel room for the night (and all day Sunday) Meanwhile, I had taken a few deep breaths, calmed myself down, and apologized for being brusque, explaining that we were on a mission to get Karen to Hawaii to complete her bucket list. And while we were all disappointed, the kids were taking it in stride. There were a few tired tears, but we remained upbeat and in our Que sera sera mode. In talking about the trip over the few weeks since we decided to actually do it, all four of us talked about the importance of being flexible and taking each day as it came and making sure that no matter what happened, we'd make an adventure of it and have what fun we could. So we talked about what to do at the hotel for the day for fun. Maybe go to the Mall of America. Maybe just sleep and watch movies. We asked them if we could get a wheelchair or the cart again to get us back to the front door, and eventually the same driver and a couple other guys arrived. Looking at Karen, I knew she needed to sleep. 

I got her into the wheelchair and one of the guys walked off with her. I thanked the two AA workers and the kids and I grabbed the walker and our carry on bags and loaded up onto the cart. Karen and her "driver" were way down the hallway, and as we approached them, I noticed Karen dragging her foot along the ground and seeming to watch it like a little kid. My mind tagged it as weird. Just a little red flag popping up. Then as we passed the chair, I called out to her.

"You ok honey?"

She did not respond.

"Karen?"

Nothing.

I went into paramedic mode and jumped from the moving cart and ran back to her. The guy pushing her was saying "She's fine. She's fine."

I pulled her mask down as I gently raised her chin from her chest. Her eyes were blank and vacant. There was a little drool coming from her slack mouth. Her breathing was very shallow, fast, and erratic. I grabbed her wrist and couldn't find a pulse.

"SHE IS NOT FINE!" I barked at the startled attendant. "CALL THE PARAMEDICS NOW!"

I instinctively went for a brachial pulse and didn't get anything there either. I had a terrifying flash of thinking that I'd need to get her to the floor and start CPR. In front of our children. I yelled at the driver to call for medics. He looked at the wheelchair guy and they both shrugged as if wondering how to go about doing that. Their third co-worker was coming down the hall so after angrily yelling at the first two with a "F-ING CALL 911! THIS SHOULDN'T BE THAT HARD!!" I yelled at the other guy to get on his f-ing radio and get medics on their way. He shrugged too. I wanted to tear their heads from their bodies, but needed to tend to Karen. I looked back at the driver and he was pointing to a phone on the wall telling me I could call from there. I could call... or I could start CPR on my wife...and I looked at my kids. 

They were startled, but calm. I told Luke to call 911 and he leapt from the cart to the phone. I could hear him talking to the operator while I was assessing Karen.

This all happened in the first maybe twenty to thirty seconds, but it seemed like forever. She was grunting a little and trying to talk, and I got a pulse on her neck so decided not to pull her from the chair. Lifting her head seemed to help her breathing, although it was still fast, shallow and shitty. It seemed to take forever, but she began to come around. By the time the airport police got there ten hours later (probably a few minutes) she was talking a little, and by the time the medics arrived three weeks later (maybe ten minutes) she was able to answer their questions. I told them my findings and mentioned that I had been a medic once in the hopes it would make any difference. Their exam and tests confirmed it. Her pulse was 40 over nothing and they wanted to transport, which I wholeheartedly agreed with.

While all that was happening, the AA manager lady called to tell me that her manager had authorized us to get on the Delta flight going direct to Honolulu. I thanked her and told her what was happening, and she and her manager came to us. They were adorable. It was 7:30 or 8 am, and the Delta flight wasn't until 10:45, so if the medics cleared her maybe we could make the flight. I mentioned that we probably weren't going to Hawaii, but they insisted we keep our next day reservations "just in case". I knew we weren't going, but they were wonderfully optimistic and said they'd do whatever they could to get us to Hawaii. As Karen was taken off by the medics, they and the police made a point to tell me how impressed with our kids they were. As was I.

They didn't panic. They didn't freak out. Luke did a great job communicating with 911. Anna helped EMS find her Mom's meds in the carry on and they both comforted each other by asking each other if they were ok. You never know how people will react in an emergency. Fight, Flight, Freeze. But they really stepped up. We talked through things back at the hotel later that day. I wanted to see how they were doing. They both agreed that nobody should cross me when I'm in emergency mode. I asked them if I seemed panicked, but they only saw me as taking charge and "being paramedicy". I'm glad for that, because I felt pretty panicky! But I was very, very proud of them. They took care of each other. They stayed quiet and calm throughout and I couldn't be more proud of how they responded to an emergent crisis.

Sunday was a blur of being in the ER with K as they got her stabilized. Sepsis. Some pneumonia. Trying to get her blood pressure up and using "lots and lots of meds" to do it. And a CT that showed that the tumor near her kidney ureter that we've been watching for over a year had pinched the ureter shut. When she was taken up to the ICU, I went back to the hotel with the kids and started making phone calls, texts, and e-mails, to cancel the trip. Everyone was great, and if they couldn't give full refunds, they gave us credit to rebook sometime in 2021. It took a cornucopia of things lining up to get this trip arranged, and we as of yet don't know how recovery will go for Karen, but we are determined to get started on the Great Hawaiian Therapy Trip, Attempt Deux very soon.

One thing we have been adamant about through all of this is not just telling the kids to be flexible, but demonstrating that as well. Our family motto has become "Semper Gumby, Baby" Always Flexible. And this has been a definite test of that. But we are determined, and we are driven, and we don't give up easy, especially when adventure is at hand!

We're ignoring the negatives of these past few days and focusing on the positive. When we are able to go again, the Polynesian Cultural Center will be open again, as well as a few other things that looked really fun but were covid closed. I don't know if we can stay as long at Disney's Aulani, but there are other hotels, and maybe we can still get in a solid week (or more?) on Oahu. Karen has more time to PT and prep for adventure, and I have more time to learn some more of the Hawaiian language and get swimming again so I can be ready to live in the water when possible. 

And yes, we are very aware that missing the plane was a blessing in disguise. It's possible that she would have crumped on the way to Phoenix, or worse, somewhere over the Pacific. And the lesson is that along with 72 hour covid tests and 24 hour health questionnaires from the state of Hawaii, we'll do some tests on Karen to make sure she's medically ready as well. Maybe a blood check to see how her numbers are. Whatever it takes. (And definitely a hotel near the airport the night before and even more extra time for check in... or maybe camping at the airport to be at the gate an hour or two before boarding begins...)

So. that's the whole long story of the past few weeks and days. We don't know what the future holds. But none of us are guaranteed a tomorrow. We're going to chase those dreams and overcome obstacles if at all possible.

Semper Gumby, Baby.      

The 6 P's: COVID 19 Pandemic Edition

Proper Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance. The six P's that were defined for me in Boot Camp. Let's talk a little about the pandemic.

First off, there's plenty of great information on the how's and why's and prevention and such out there about this virus and info on the virus itself. Please, for the love of Jesus, stick to the experts on this one. Mayo Clinic, CDC, WHO, Johns Hopkins, Cleveland Clinic. If you're doing the right thing, you're already practicing social distancing, so you'll have plenty of time to read through these sites and get solid facts.

This post is going to reflect a bit on our reaction as a society to these events. There has been an insane run on supplies in the past couple of weeks. There are jackholes out there that swept up all of the hand sanitizer, bleach wipes, and TP they could find to price gouge and make money off of this disaster. It is painfully evident that the vast majority of the panicked people were simply unprepared for something like this.  Most of you by now have seen the "Flatten the Curve" graphics floating around.

Like this one! CDC approved!

So we should ALL understand why closing things down and trying to slow the spread is vital. But we can also use this to show what happens when something disruptive happens to our society.

Works on so many levels

Of course, you can insert whatever supply you'd like in place of TP, but you get the gist.

This isn't surprising though. It is easy to get into the normal routine of life and not give much thought to emergency situations. If you fall into this category, don't beat yourself up! You are in good company with most of your fellow citizens! The good news is that the vast majority of our population will survive this crisis, even in the midst of administrative failure from our Federal government. So with that in mind, let's talk prepping.

What's the first thing that came into your mind when I said "prepping"? A guy dressed in camo stockpiling years of food, weapons and ammo in his garage, guarding it with his AR-15? Underground bunkers and secret locations for food caches? Tinfoil hats? 

Sure, there are those people out there that have gone full on survivalist, preparing for the end of the world. But I want to dispel the myth that anyone who prepares has to go this far. I want to stop the eye-rolls when I say "have you done any prepping?" Because you don't have to go overboard! Sure, the extreme preppers are getting ready for the one in a billion, world ending events, but let's talk about what's happening now. Their point that even the slightest disruption in social norms leads to chaos is pretty accurate. We continue to see natural disasters and know for the most part where they will happen. Earthquakes in California. Hurricanes in Florida. Tornadoes in the Midwest. Lots of the people that live in those areas do some basic prepping for those events, and nobody sane rolls their eyes at that. So why are we unwilling to do some basic prepping for things like COVID 19 or other things that could disrupt the majority of the nation? (Because I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the experts say that this kind of thing will happen again. It isn't a question of "IF', but a question of "WHEN".) 

The answer is again, human nature. We get our daily patterns down and don't really think outside of that bubble. Crime in the Big Cities? Doesn't effect me so I focus on my priorities. Starving kids in impoverished areas? Doesn't effect me, toss some money at it when it comes up on FB maybe. This is called privilege. Everyone everywhere has some level of privilege (some far, far less than others of course) that keeps them inside their bubbles. In America, the majority is made up of white, working and middle class, English speaking people. Our 'normal' expectations for day to day life don't include food scarcity or chronic illness. Our standard of living is pretty good. So we become complacent in our belief that there will always be food and toilet paper on the shelves, and "as long as we work hard, we'll have the money to buy what we need". And for the most part, this is true. We scoff at "Preppers" for wasting their time and money on things that will most likely not happen in their lifetimes. So we attach a stigma to people that prep, which drives people away from doing some basic prepping for fear of being ridiculed.  Again, normal human behavior. But this pandemic has shown us vividly that there are a LOT of people out there that are unprepared for an emergency. When the media reports the facts, and the facts are a bit scary, people panic. There's a line from MIB about an individual person being smart, but 'people' are stupid. They're not wrong. being unprepared leads to panic. (Not the media) We need to de-stigmatize basic preparedness and start thinking ahead a little, yes?

So, how can we 'normal' citizens prepare for the next event like this? It's actually pretty simple, inexpensive, and won't really disrupt your normal routines at all. In fact, it can be kind of fun!

WHAT YOU NEED vs. WHAT YOU WANT

There are plenty of prepper websites out there that explain what they think are the essentials for Doomsday events. It's a rabbit hole I wouldn't suggest unless you go in with the understanding that you aren't preparing for a Doomsday event, just an undefined disruption of normalcy. Now to be honest, I would love me a bit of land away from populated areas to escape the crowds and camp, hunt, adventure or whatever! So I can't fault them for that. But stockpiling weapons, buying land to 'Bug Out' to, and putting in secret bunkers may be a bit extreme. But they do have a lot of good ideas for 'Sheltering in Place', which is what we're probably heading into with this covid 19 thing. There will always be stuff that you may want for a prep bag. But start out with the bare necessities first. 

So what do you need?

First off, the CDC put out Zombie Apocalypse Preparedness guidelines a few years back. Kind of a tongue in cheek way to get people interested in doing some emergency prepping. This is an entertaining and excellent guide to getting yourself ready for the next 'whatever' after this one passes. They suggest making an emergency kit that includes

• Water (1 gallon per person per day)
• Food (stock up on non-perishable items that you eat regularly)
• Medications (this includes prescription and non-prescription meds)
• Tools and Supplies (utility knife, duct tape, battery powered radio, etc.)
• Sanitation and Hygiene (household bleach, soap, towels, etc.)
• Clothing and Bedding (a change of clothes for each family member and blankets)
• Important documents (copies of your driver’s license, passport, and birth certificate to name a few)
• First Aid supplies (although you’re a goner if a zombie bites you, you can use these supplies to treat basic cuts and lacerations that you might get during a tornado or hurricane)

Can you imagine how much less panic there would have been had a few more of those folks fighting over TP had done this?

"But that costs money! And where do we put it?" 

Listen, as a guy who wants to learn ALL THE HOBBIES, I understand that diving head first into a project can require a considerable outlay of money right up front. But let's take a look at what is on that list. Food, water, meds, etc... All of those are things you use in your daily life anyway. So there's not a reason (once we are no longer socially distancing ourselves and isolating of course) not to start small. Backpacks, little shelves or cabinets, or other containers are inexpensive, especially at second hand stores or outlets. Buy one in the first week or two. When you go shopping for your usual food and supplies, pick up an extra canned good or two every four or five trips.  Grab a second TP package every now and then. Buy things that don't expire or have a really long shelf life. 

Where to put it? Clean out the bottom of a closet, or a corner of your garage. Put a little shelf in your basement. There's ALWAYS a few cubic feet of space that you can set some things aside. If you want to get really fancy, you can even rotate your supplies in special racks and make charts and graphs and other cool organizational stuff! But again, it doesn't need to be hard or spendy. Some things will need to be replaced over time of course, but it's not hard to have a rotating stock of a few canned goods on your normal food storage shelves. 

what a handy little graph!

Of course, in the above graphic, the blue part would be much, much flatter and not eat up that much of your income. But again, you get the idea.

One thing we found helpful is having "normal" food and "emergency" food. Our kitchen is usually stocked with enough day to day food for a week or two. Sometimes less because of growing children, but in a pinch, we could make regular meals for half a month or so. We keep meats in the freezer and fresh foods for cooking and such, but we also have a little space set aside to store our "emergency supplies". For us, it was a simple and inexpensive matter to get a few food safe 5 gallon buckets with lids, pack them with non-perishables over the course of months of shopping, and put them in the basement.We started doing this years ago and now we have plenty of food squirreled away to shelter in place as long as we need to. It didn't hurt us at all financially, and it takes up the space of about a closet. On a Costco run once, we bought a bulk bag of rice, separated it into one pound bags and made a bucket o' rice. Same with pinto beans on another trip. We have a bucket of salts and spices that we tap into every now and then to use up and replenish, because who likes bland food, emergency or not? What else can you do?Buy a case of TP (when it's plentiful again) and stick it in the back of a closet somewhere (dry). And if you should for some reason be sheltering in place long enough to go through it, I've heard that showers are sometimes located near toilets, and can be used to clean your body! 

Did you know that sugar doesn't go bad? Neither does non-iodized salt. Even the iodized stuff lasts a looong time. Vinegar, wine, pasta, nuts, some dried grains, honey - especially honey- can last for decades before they go bad. Honey is magical and eternal! Canned meats can last for two to five years. Grab some extra canned tuna or chicken on every dozen grocery runs for a couple years and you'll have plenty for a few months of emergency, without breaking the bank or taking up lots of space. Canned fruits and veggies may not be better than what you get from your garden, but they'll get you through a winter of discontent! 

Now, I'll be the first to admit that the thought of living off of rice and beans, or canned chicken on pasta for a few months sounds awful to an epicurean. But with a variety of spices and recipes for some basic ingredients it won't be terrible. And it sure beats the alternative which I'm guessing would include scavenging and starving.

So friends, I encourage you to become preppers. Not the eye-roll kind (unless that's your thing). But just having some simple foresight and basic goods that will last you and yours a month or two when this sort of thing happens again will give you better peace of mind when it happens, and just maybe keep supplies on the shelves for people that need them or didn't plan ahead. Help others by helping yourself! It's a win/win! 

Of course, that won't stop the price gougers, but we'll find some answers to that at another time. 

What sort of things do you do, or are you thinking of doing, to get ready for these events? Has this pandemic changed you in any way?

Adventures in Learning to Hunt

On December 18th, I skinned my first squirrel.  
Also on December 18th, I did not fire my rifle.
Also, I've never shot a squirrel.

How can all this be possible? It was an odd day.

So, to start out, I headed off to the woods after dropping my daughter at school. The day started off well, as I walked the border of the woods and the cornfield, I flushed a grouse that flew off over a small rise. I noted where it set down and excitedly clicked the selector on the hammer of my Savage 24D over to the shotgun and snuck over the rise. But as I did, questions began firing in my head. 

I have a small game license, and grouse is small game. But I need a special tag for pheasant and waterfowl, and when I bought the license, I figured I wouldn't have a shot at any flying things, and now here was a grouse... not a waterfowl and not a pheasant... did my small game license cover those?

As I pondered that question, the grouse flushed from the tall weeds and started flying by at about twenty feet. I pulled back the hammer and drew a bead on the bird.

But as it flew by, that question nagged at me and froze my finger fast. I lowered the barrel and watched the bird fly off across the field.

As I'm teaching my kiddos to shoot, I'm making sure they fully understand the rules before they even get to handle a loaded gun.

Safety. Safety. Safety. One of those rules is this:

If you're unsure, don't take the shot.

Aim off? Don't shoot. Not a clear shot? Don't shoot. Uncomfortable with the distance? Don't shoot.

So when I was unsure of the legality of the shot, it only seemed natural to not shoot.

This particular WMA (Wilderness Management Area) is quite hilly, so the hiking was a little strenuous. I started seeing lots of signs of squirrels, but they seemed a little old. Maybe from the day before. Maybe a few days?

Tracks and digging. Sure signs of a squirrel!

Heck, I'm still learning to track. I've spent plenty of time outdoors, but never really cared to figure out which tracks are what and where they're coming and going. Now, in learning to hunt, I'm discovering that knowing how to track, even as a newbie, is a very important skill to learn and hone. You can sit in an area for a looooong time waiting for squirrels and rabbits to appear. But knowing when you're IN their area can save many frustrating hours!

I wandered deeper into the steep terrain and saw more and more signs of squirrel. This was either a place littered with them, or the home of a very busy little critter. I picked a spot to sit and wait, but after almost an hour, had seen no sign of anything. 
Except birds.
Especially woodpeckers.

Every time I've been out, there have always been plenty of woodpeckers. One of the benefits of spending time in the woods is seeing things that are kinda rare in town. Multiple species of woodpeckers has been one of the delightful finds.

I started walking again, and came across some familiar tracks...
Human.

There were adult tracks and kid tracks and they seemed pretty fresh. Maybe from the day before. The kid tracks were going up and down the steep hill as the adult tracks marched straight across. Like a puppy following an older dog, taking three times the steps and covering the same distance.

But then, the adult tracks started going back and forth at right angles to the kid, like they were making some huge checkerboard on the hill. It was quite confusing. So much so that as I was walking through one of their board spaces, I nearly stepped on the very thing they must have been searching for.

A little Gray Squirrel almost perfectly centered between the criss crossing human tracks. Judging from the eye cloudiness, it looked pretty fresh. They must have shot it near dark last night and had not been able to find it.I considered briefly just leaving it where it fell, but it seemed like a gift to someone learning to hunt. After all, without having to shoot anything, I now had a squirrel to put in to practice all of the things I've been reading about, or watching instructional videos about. How to skin. How to gut. How to quarter. I left a little offering of tobacco as I had seen my Lakota friends do, and said some prayers of thanks to the squirrel and the universe for my good fortune and found a nice fallen log a few hundred yards farther to rest on while I planned what to do with my "practice squirrel".

I thought about trying to skin it there, but it was a little frozen. In the end, I decided to just take it home. I'd let it warm up in the car on the way back, and try my hand at skinning and quartering when I got back.

I sat for a bit considering the adventure thus far. I think I'd need to be a bit more specific in what I put out into the universe as to what I want to achieve.

When I first started, I didn't expect hunting to be too easy. I figured I wouldn't be able to just walk through any woods and get the daily limit in an hour. But after a few outings of seeing nothing, I asked that I'd like to see SOMETHING.

And there were birds... all kinds of birds.

OK. Be more specific. I'd like to see a MAMMAL.
The next trip, there was the little dead mouse. 

SO - How about not just any mammal, but an actual squirrel.
And here we are, sitting with a dead squirrel in hand.

Fine. I'D LIKE TO SEE A LIVING SQUIRREL OR RABBIT WHILE I'M HUNTING!!!

Even before I got the thought fully formed and decided upon, I caught sight of a bounding dark blur off to my right down the hill.
I looked closer, and there - in all its tiny, fuzzy glory - was a living, breathing, bounding Gray Squirrel. Hopping through the snow. Maybe twenty yards away.

My jaw dropped and I froze long enough for the animal to hop onto a tree directly in front of me. I raised my rifle and tried to sight it in.

It turns out that with a crossbow scope on a rifle, it is tough to get a quick sight picture. This has to do with many factors, not the least of which is how far your eye is from the first optic.  Turns out, though the scope worked pretty well for target shooting, it took a bit more time to get a good lock on the target than the squirrel was willing to give me. By the time I started lining him up in the cross hairs, he flicked his tail and bolted around the tree 180 degrees. I peeked over the scope to see him giving me an even better shot on the other side of the tree. Again, I fiddled too long trying to get my eye lined up with the scope lined up with the squirrel, and as I started to squeeze the trigger, he flicked his tail again and shot up the tree and out of sight.

I waited and watched for twenty minutes.

Nothing.

I circled the tree - not an easy thing to do on the steep hill. 

Nothing.

I tossed things to the opposite side and scanned every inch of the tree. But the squirrel had vanished. After an hour, my phone alarm rang letting me know it was time to head back to pick my daughter up from school.

Well. Another prayer answered. I had seen a LIVING squirrel while I was hunting.

I'd have to get even more specific for my next outing. But as long as I'm having fun out in the woods, I'll still consider every outing a good learning adventure.

When I got home, the Boyo was still at school and it was getting dark, but my daughter volunteered to join me in seeing what we could learn from the little dead squirrel I brought home.

I got my first solo skinning experience, and have to say, it wasn't hard either physically or mentally. As a former medic, I'm not too squeamish with blood and guts on people. But I am such an animal lover, I had wondered if I'd be able to take apart a critter. After all, my only experience up to now was handling meat from the store. Already pretty clinical and removed from the actual animal.

Turns out I was fine with starting "from scratch". As I was skinning it out, I wondered if my girl would get grossed out. But much to my delight, she was ok with it, too. As I cut into the bowels and started removing organs, I was telling her which parts were which and how remarkable that it was that humans had the same parts. She grew more and more curious until she asked to put on some gloves and handle the pieces herself.

We took apart the squirrel and found the heart, lungs, liver, kidneys, diaphragm, intestines... we even opened up the stomach and found it full of chewed nuts. It was extremely educational and interesting for both of us!

We quartered it, although it had been shot through the front shoulder, so that meat was pretty much gone. I considered cooking up the hind quarters, as it seemed to smell alright. I kept the skin and brought the back legs in for further learning.

I cut meat off the bones, and while it didn't smell rotten, it also didn't smell like any other meat I usually handled. Beef, pork, chicken and turkey... I can tell by the smell if it's good or not. This smelled kinda like chicken... but also kinda not. Since I had no frame of reference for what squirrel should smell like, and had no idea how long it had been dead, I decided not to risk cooking it and having a bad experience. So everything but the skin was left outside for our local carnivores. Red Fox, coyotes, crows, all come to visit us. In the next couple days, we even saw one of our local deer munching on the skull. Yes, they are omnivorous.

Karen was thankful that I didn't choose to cook it up. She's still a little hesitant about squirrel and rabbit as it is. Best to have it be as fresh as possible!

As I reflected on the adventures of the day, I started to feel like God, or Wakan Tanka, or the Universe, or whatever karmic higher entity there is, is slowly working me up to my first kill. Letting me learn things slowly. Step by step. Tracking, stalking, patience... especially patience. Sitting still and quiet in the woods and letting things happen. It occurs to me that hunting is a mix of skill, luck, and continuous learning. You can be the best hunter in the world, and yet it still takes some luck to be in a the right place at the right time to intersect with an animal. That skill part comes in handy when you can increase your odds, but still. 

I think I need a scope designed for a .22. Other than that, I'm anxious to see what comes next in this adventure.

Fears For Tomorrow

"Matthew 6:34

Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will take care of itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."

Tomorrow is voting day. Americans are going to the polls in record numbers. The current thing sitting in the Oval Office has declared it to be a referendum about him. On this, he is mostly right. I said before the elections in 2016 that with him as POTUS, this country would be in trouble. Maybe not economically, since Obama put us on a path that would be hard to screw up. (Though he's doing his best to blow that up, too.)

But in the past two years, we've watched as the far right has become normalized. Hatred against non-white, non-"christian", non-straight, and even non-male people has spiked. We have an administration that has been encouraging this. Giving "thoughts and prayers" after horrific attacks, yet stirring up fear at their rallies and making sure their supporters know who the "enemy" is.

We've all seen the things that have been happening. Many of us can see the dangers this administration presents, especially at the words and actions of their leader. Some are fine with it because hey, the economy is fine, so they can overlook the hate and fear mongering and chalk his threats up to "hyperbole" or "just kidding around".

The rhetoric has been amped up in the weeks leading up to tomorrow. We've heard more about such ridiculous things as the "dangerous invasion" caravan of people coming from South America, painting them as the Next Big Threat to our Country. Regardless of the fact that they have as yet done nothing illegal in accordance with our laws. Coming here to seek asylum is completely legal, yet our faux-president is sending troops in a "show of strength" to stir up the fear and hatred in his supporters. And it's working. Even people that I once considered rational and the LEAST likely to be a trumper because of their heritage are posting things to social media about the "invasion" and how we should be "taking care of Vets instead of illegals" (Again - they are not illegal). It is mind boggling how anyone claiming to be a Christian or not fitting into the category of white, male, straight, and sane can support the things this administration is doing and saying. 

Digression time...

I need a better way to refer to the "in-group" that Trump fights for. Those who are white, male, "christian", straight, Republican and the people that support him even though they have few - if any - of those traits. I will hereafter refer to  them as... RedHats.

I also need a term for the rest of humanity that the RedHats stand against. All of the people and cultures that trump and his RedHats rail against at their rallies and their news feeds. Immigrants, non-whites, non-"christian", non-straight, non...well... them. And more and more, the enemy they seem to be promoting the hardest are "Democrats". So let's call everyone else...Blues.

End of digression...

At the Trump Rally I went to, I was shocked at the level of animosity and hatred directed specifically at Democrats and "those on the Left". Even our local candidates were spouting the party line about how all Democrats want open borders, want to take away all the guns, want to punish "christians", are happy to have criminals in our communities, and make anyone not agreeing with Trump an "enemy of the people".

Which brings me to the reason I'm writing tonight. I have some fears for tomorrow. I know the bible says we shouldn't. But I'm not perfect, and I have a tendency to run different scenarios in my head. So here are some of my fears...

1)Worst case, we have a "red wave" and Republicans not only solidify their hold on the government, but elect fanatics at the State and Local levels so loyal to Trump that the slide into the "Fourth Reich" they've been pushing for speeds up. Without any checks and balances in any branch, the corruption of the SCOTUS, and with his new "yes-men" in place, Trump ramps up his hate speech, and violence against "Blues" increases. New laws will be enacted to disenfranchise Blue voters. Protections now in place for Blues are "legally" rolled back. "The Handmaid's Tale" seems less a work of fiction than our new everyday lives. Blues that will not tolerate this protest in large numbers. So the "Government" outlaws protest and dissent. Violence increases as trump riles up his base against these "enemies". The military is called up to "help" keep the peace, but since half of the military leans blue, there are internal command conflicts that increase until the military divides along partisan lines as well. (Much like what happened in our Civil War) Then, instead of being a unifier, the RedHats declare martial law, the right wing militias line up to "fight" with the "Government", the Blues show that they too are armed and trained (much to the disbelief of the RedHats), and we head into the Second Civil War. But since there are no real dividing lines like the North and South had in the first one, RedHat and Blue forces are scattered all across the country fighting for control of cities and regions. Eventually, regions become red or blue and form their own countries. All assuming we aren't first invaded by a foreign force while we're killing each other. No more US of A.

2)A slightly better case... There is no wave, but Republicans keep control of the government. We've got two more years of insanity before we are able to vote again. Violence still increases against the Blues. Laws are passed to justify it, and to make it easier for RedHats to stay in power and we are back to scenario one... OK. Hopefully scenario one doesn't play out, and we are able to elect sane, rational people into positions of power once more, regardless of party affiliation. This would require the Republicans to save their party, but it could happen...maybe... It still takes decades to undo the damage done in the last four years. The Republic is still here, but unstable, because the RedHats haven't crawled back into the shadows they emerged from in 2016. Still feeling emboldened by the words and actions of their Dear Leader, they continue to act out against the Blues... too much violence against the Blues would lead to reprisals and continued division. Yeah... Still not too great.

3)A bit better still... No wave, but Democrats take the House and leadership positions at the State and Local levels, and are able to slow the dumpster fire known as the "Trump Train" a bit. The RedHats aren't able to pass their laws ensuring their continued power. The Republic is still here, still unstable, and we look ahead to 2020. Unfortunately, with the government now (thankfully) gridlocked, the RedHats are angered by the lack of their Leader being able to continue to "protect" them, and since he continues to stir up fear and hatred in lieu of having any actual power, they increase their violence toward Blues at the seemingly indirect encouragement of their leadership. While said leadership denies responsibility, they will continue to demonize the Blues, leading to the violence. More division, more conflict. More bloodshed.

4)Even Better... There IS a Blue Tsunami and the Democrats take not only the House, but maybe the Senate, AND Democrats also regain state and local leadership positions. Now the RedHat Trump Train is slowed even further, and the insane dictates coming from their Dear Leader are more easily turned aside by Federal, State and Local entities that actually understand the Constitution and rule of law. Trump spends the next two years as a true lame duck. Unfortunately, this angers his RedHat Base who, pissed at the metaphorical castration of their Idol and encouraged by his continued labelling of Blues as the "Enemy of the People" increase attacks against Blues. More division, more blood spilled.

Basically, any outcome tomorrow could easily lead to violence from the right, retaliation from the far left, and descent into Very Bad Times.

As a "civilized" society, we naturally assume that calmer heads will prevail. Sanity will win the day. We are in denial that our fellow Americans would do anything like what I describe the RedHats doing above. And honestly, I hope to God that I'm completely wrong about any and all of these scenarios. I hope that we can regain some civility and basic respect for each other as human beings.

But here's why I worry. I went to the Trump Rally here in town. I saw fellow citizens, Mayo and IBM employees, regular, "ordinary" type people go from light hearted laughing and chatting about the weather or the Vikings to Angry At The Blues in just about no time at all. I heard the cheering as trump called Democrats "the party of criminals". Saw the smiles at the mention of building walls to keep brown people out, or shutting down the "fake news media". Heard not just the boo's, but the truly vile comments at the mention of the name of anyone in the Democratic party. I saw the fanaticism in the eyes of his loyalists. The love they had for him, even as he spewed lies and half truths and slander and petty name calling. I saw how quickly they turned on a group of young people that they identified as "liberals" and chased them out of the line. I was out of place and outnumbered, and for the first time in my country I felt unsafe, threatened by the people surrounding me. It really felt like what I'd imagine a Nazi Rally would have felt like in the 30's. Not calling for outright killing of their "enemies", but certainly planting the ideas of who the "real enemies" are, and how dangerous they are, and how all hope will be lost if they get any power, and how we must all stand together and fight them if we cherish our way of life. I remember thinking to myself "What the hell is wrong with these people that they would eat this slop up and cheer for it?" Stunningly scary stuff.

So if mild mannered Rochester, Minnesota can rally a crowd of thousands so fanatically devoted to this dictator wanna be that they can so easily stir themselves into a hate filled frenzy, then the idea of him whipping his 25% of our citizens into violence at the outcome of tomorrows elections isn't too much of a stretch. I fear that one way or the other, violence against "Blues" will spike after tomorrow, either because the RedHats won, or because they lost. And without a leader that wants unity, that thrives on division, I fear that it will escalate.

Like I said. I hope to God I'm wrong. 

I May Be A Hunter

This past summer I went on a buffalo hunt on the Oglala Reservation in South Dakota. I've never been on a hunt before, though I did learn how to hunt humans in the USMC. A lot of the same rules apply. Stealth. Target Identification. One Shot, One Kill principle.

While I didn't do the shooting, My son and I did assist a little with the post kill activities... skinning, quartering, butchering... and it sparked something in me.

Now, to be honest, I've never been drawn to hunting because most of my role models for this have been people that hang heads on their walls or take pictures of themselves with dead giraffes, lions, wild hogs, even buffalo. 

What bothers me are the trophy hunters. I have never felt that the act of killing should be celebrated or enshrined with pictures of people smiling happily with their kill. Posing in front of the rows of ducks they shot, or holding the head of some dead animal up while they grin for the camera. I get that they are proud of their "accomplishment", but most trophy hunters I've spoken with have zero respect for the animal they have killed. It's a sport for them. A chance to prove whatever they need to prove to whomever they think they need to impress. It doesn't impress me. Hunting something that can shoot back at you takes far more skill, nerve, and dedication than shooting an unaware animal that is having lunch and just trying to go about their day.

I understand that people hunt to eat, and that never bothered me much. One of my earliest babysitters was a family that ate all manner of wild game, and though I can't remember the taste of the various things we tried, I do remember the basement with skins and processing equipment and such. I understand that hunting certain species is important in keeping their numbers in check. We are a part of  the food web, after all. The whole Circle of Life. I get all of that. But I've never felt the need to hunt for food outside of my local grocery store.

Then I went on the Buffalo Hunt. 

Now. It wasn't particularly difficult. We drove around until we found the herd, adjusted position (in vehicles) a few times to get a close, clear, clean shot. The guy who took the shot did so wearing flip flops. The herd didn't even react to the shot. Just kinda looked at us and went back to their grazing. A few of them gathered around their fallen brother to check him out. My Lakota Ciye (older brother) Will said that after the animal dies his family will gather around and bw their heads as if in prayer and saying goodbye. Unfortunately our non-traditional guides raced in with their vehicles to move the living buffalo off, an act that bugged both Will, me and my son. The anti-trophy hunter in me would have been disgusted if that had been what we were there for. 

But it wasn't.

This hunt was to use the buffalo as food. The traditional hunters prayed to Tunkasila - Grandfather - before the hunt that one of their brother buffalo's would give himself as a sacrifice so that the people could eat. After the shot, we gathered around the fallen buffalo and prayers were said and sung, and offerings made to the spirit of the animal and to Tunkasila. Prayers of thanksgiving for the sacrifice of this bull. We thanked the animal personally. 

I placed my hand on his massive forehead and said my own words of thanks. As did my son. And the lesson he learned that day was vitally important. I was with people who truly respected the animal, and more importantly respected the gravity of killing. There were no smiles or laughter from the traditional Lakotas there. Or from their two white visitors. Just respect.

In accordance with Lakota tradition, we all ate a piece of the liver to honor the spirit of the buffalo, make him a part of us. We were told that by taking part in ceremony, that we were also brothers of the buffalo. That the spirit of this individual buffalo would be with us for all of our lives. It was a powerful morning that will stay with me for life.

As I reflected on my experience in the weeks that followed, I gave thought to what should be in the hearts of all hunters.

The act of taking a life should never be internally easy, or done with pleasure. It should be done with as much skill as possible so the animal suffers as little as possible. It should not be celebrated with pictures of the dead or trophy heads to hang on a wall. The first thing a hunter should do after a kill is show some respect for the animal that they killed. The animal should be humbly thanked for their sacrifice so that the hunter and his family can live. If you're not going to eat it, you shouldn't be killing it. Maybe most importantly, if you hunt for an animal, you should also take care of its relatives as you would your own as a thank you for their sacrifice as well.

Set out some food for them during winters and hard times. Not as bait. As a thank you. Take care of their living space as if it were your own. If they don't have a good place to live, you won't have a place to hunt. That means standing up to those that would spoil those living spaces. Companies that dump toxins into the ground, water, and/or air. Governments that won't protect these Natural Resources. Individuals that hunt for the sole purpose of taking home a trophy or a picture to show off to their friends. These must be stopped.

I may become a hunter in the future. Probably not regularly, but to expand my knowledge and to provide food for my family. Certainly not for any picture or trophy for my wall. Because even this far along in my life, I was able to learn what it means to be a true hunter.

Respect. Honor. Humility. Purpose. These make the difference between a hunter and a killer.

Trump Rally

     Tonight I had the opportunity to go see a Trump rally in person. I wasn't excited to go, and certainly had my preconceived notions of what it would be like. I'm no fan of 45 or his more ardent supporters. But my friend Shelly, who had the tickets had said a few things that made me genuinely curious. Also, I wanted to see with my own eyes what it was like. After all, what we see on the news are sound bites of him saying something stupid. And what we see on the comedy shows are the people too simple minded to know they are falling into the interviewers traps.

     So I went, not intending to protest, not intending to support, but to simply bear witness to it and try to keep an open mind.

As we drove the route 45 would be taking to the Civic Center, there were rows and rows of protesters lining the streets. We found pretty decent parking a couple blocks away, and after making our way through the protesters on the corners, we found the line to go into the venue. It snaked its way from the venue about a block away then went down an ally and around a bend. Probably a few thousand people in all. We made the decision to not wait in line and instead walked up to the giant tv screen near the venue that people outside could watch on. There were protesters there, too, and as the line filed by, the protesters were jeered and mocked. Chants of "USA. USA" kept rising up. The Protesters had their chants, too. But none jeered or mocked the MAGA hats heading in. We were standing by the police tape that separated the crowd from the line, next to a couple police officers and a Secret Service agent. We soon noticed that people were just walking under the police tape and joining the line, so we thought, well, why not give that a try? So I held up the tape to let my friend in, said hi to the nice security people, and we literally walked right into line.

We spoke quietly to ourselves about feeling a little guilty for just cutting in front of hundreds of others, but that feeling quickly dissipated as people around us talked about how they didn't even have tickets, but were just going to try to get in anyway. Of the section of people I was in, very few had tickets, and they all got a good laugh out of that. As we rambled along, we noticed quite a few people just shoving their way in front of others. There was no security along the line, so people could - and did - easily step out of line, move up a bit, and rejoin the line. So much for Minnesota Nice. The lack of humanity continued further as chants of "Build That Wall" and "Lock Her Up" moved up and down the line. All greeted with laughter and cheering. A group of young people were mocked and harassed until driven from the line by the crowd after they were outed as liberals. Shelly turned to me and quietly whispered "That could have been us."

We reached the doors to the inside and filed through, only to be in a larger hall that led to the "Exhibition Center" where the overflow crowd was being directed. This was several times wider than the outside line, and people packed in - again pushing and shoving - to get to the single open door into the EC. There was plenty of grousing and complaining about the "line cutters" by people that had themselves walked ahead of others as far as they could before joining the mass.

As we approached the security checkpoint, Shelly and I got separated by budging MAGAers, and decided to just meet once inside. She went to the outside of the line, and unbeknownst to me was shuffled right in thanks in part to her need for crutches.

I, meanwhile, found myself in a group of men, women and children in various states of MAGA hats and shirts. One woman just behind me to the right was trying to get people to let her husband through, since they had been separated and he was now fifteen feet back through the crowd. She was wearing a Mayo jacket, and feeling some loyalty to Mayo employees, I helped her make a hole for her hubby to join her. After he had joined our little section, someone further back yelled "A thank you would have been nice". To which she flipped the bird without looking back.

"So much for Minnesota Nice" said someone else from the back. She turned to me and said "I'm from Michigan. Besides, 'Minnesota Nice' is just another way of saying 'Fuck You', isn't it?"

"Ahh... No." I replied. "We actually do try to be nice. Polite, respectful. That sort of thing. I guess that sort of goes out the window at things like this, huh?" I quipped.

"Sure does." She said. "I always thought it was like Southerners saying 'Bless Your Heart'."

"Nah." I said. "People here are generally pretty nice."

At this point we were around 30 feet from the entrance, and people were cramming into the funnel from both sides. Someone with a backpack was sent away, as no backpacks were allowed. A woman in front of me that had previously pushed her way past Shelly along with her family scoffed and started pointing at women and asking them kind of harshly if they brought purses. I thought she was just kidding around at first, until one woman said yes, and she said "Well get behind me then! I don't want your dumb ass holding me up!"

Now, if you know me, you know I don't tolerate rudeness very well. So I said "Chill out lady. We're all in the same boat here." Which got me a withering stare. It was then that a gentleman to my left squeezed past me and shouldered his way in. I said "Really?" and shouldered my way in front of him. Words were about to be exchanged when my phone rang. It was Shelly, so I held my index finger up to him in the well known 'just a moment' gesture and talked to Shel. She was inside, she said, and would wait for me by the door. Was I close?

"Yeah. Making progress. Except for the people still trying to budge their way in front of me. But I'll keep moving forward." I said this looking at the pushy guy, and he backed down. He worked his way to the left and last I saw him he was pushing in front of other people.

I was about twenty feet from the door when the woman in the Mayo coat went off.

"Those fucking chinks cut ahead of us! They shouldn't be allowed to go in!"

Ahead of us by three or four people was an Asian looking couple. I could not believe what my ears had just heard. I became... agitated.

"Hey. That sort of language isn't necessary." I said.

"But they cut! And HE has a backpack, so they shouldn't be going in anyway!"

I was seething, but realized that I was in the midst of a crowd of MAGA hats, twenty feet of packed crowd between me and authorities, and if I started telling her and those around her that were agreeing with her how I really felt, I'm quite certain things would turn ugly rather quickly. She had the support of the mob, and I understood that I was surrounded by truly deplorable people. It was so hard to bite my tongue further.

But here's where it got even more surreal. She went on to say that they were probably Democrats just here to make a scene. How would you tell if they were Democrats? I asked.

"I can always tell." She said proudly. "They all have a look about them. Like they've been unemployed for years and living in their parents basement."

"Really?" I asked.

"Yeah" her husband joined in. "They all have hate in their eyes, or are too drugged out to see straight. Fucking losers that you can pick out of a crowd."

Then their adultish son joined in. Let me describe him first. It makes his comment that much more ridiculous. He had on a brand new MAGA hat (Just bought it outside!) a tattered camo jacket and ratty jeans. His smile revealed orange, unbrushed teeth. His hair flowing out from underneath the hat was unwashed. His comment? "They all look like homeless people. Probably because they are!"

Mom chimed back in, "I can always tell. They all hate America, and us, and Trump. They should all just get the hell out of the country if they hate it so much."

I smiled at her. "You can ALWAYS tell? For real? Or like, these are just Democrats in general?"

"Nope. I can ALWAYS tell."

So I asked her in a conspiratorial tone if she saw any in the surrounding crowd. She pointed out a large black guy, but wasn't entirely sure of her pick after I pointed out that he was Secret Service. But she was certain that the brown skinned women wearing hijabs were Dems. "Fucking towelhead Dems, right there." were her words. And MAD PROPS to that small group of women that looked cool as cucumbers as they filed in with so many people scowling at them. I at least had the camouflage of my USMC hat and white skin to disguise myself for safety. Those gals were exactly the enemy most of that crowd was looking for, and they held their heads high. THAT is true bravery!

Two college looking kids in sweatshirts were Democrats too. I looked at the others listening in on this conversation to see if anyone else was as disgusted as I was by what she was saying, but there were only smiles and nodding heads agreeing with her. I really felt like I was in the presence of evil.

At this point the Asian couple had reached security and were given the option of tossing the backpack into the trash or leaving. They left, to a smattering of cheers and a "Good Riddance" from the lady who always knew a Democrat when she saw one, even though she was standing right next to one. I was sweating from trying to keep my cool. I felt... well... dirty. Like their vitriol was rubbing off on my soul. I can't remember being in such a disgusting group of people.

Finally, mercifully, I made it to the security table, where I was separated from the proud deplorables. I thought to myself "This whole building is going to need a good scrub down and a lot of smudging or something." It was very bad energy in the crowd.

I was pushed toward a Secret Service screener by another Secret Service agent. He looked at me, patted the tops of my front pockets half heartedly, then touched the hem of my shorts on my left leg with one hand, then waved me through. Three touches in total.

"Is that it?" I asked.

"Yeah. Go."

"Really?" I asked again, kinda slow walking past him. He just moved on the the next person, and in I walked.

Now. Shelly had the tickets, and she was already inside. I wasn't asked if I had a ticket. I wasn't checked with a wand, or asked to empty my pockets, or my cargo pockets (because I'm a Dad, and we ALL wear cargo shorts). My waistband wasn't checked, and it would have been very easy to have a concealed handgun tucked in the small of my back, or my pocket, or my cargo pocket. As shocking as the conversations that had surrounded me on the way in had been, I was extremely shocked by the lax security to get in to see a US President.

Now, maybe they figured that they didn't really need security checks for the overflow area, although it connected directly to the main stage and the rear areas where 45 would be. But considering what happened next, perhaps they should have thought things through.

Because not five minutes later, 45 himself came out and onto a raised stage area not twenty or thirty feet from where I stood. Shelly had asked a tall guy in front of her to move a little for some room for her to film, leaving a nice gap and line of site to the stage and there was nobody behind me. To my right was a wall, and to my left was Shelly. It was an ideal spot to shoot from - as my cell phone camera shows, and literally ANYONE could have brought a weapon in and taken shots at him.

I don't know if he saw my one fingered salute or not...

All of my disgust for this administration faded away for a bit as I stood in wonder at how easy it had been to jump the line, enter the venue, and get this close to the sitting president of the United States. I filmed his mini speech to the overflow crowd and took some pictures without really hearing any of it.

Seriously. Complete disbelief.

After he left, we took a spot along the back wall where we could sit and listen to the "Greatest Speech" that he had promised the overflow room when he appeared. Apparently many of his loyalists weren't terribly interested in the speech part, as the outflow of people easily matched the influx. Shelly was very hopeful that his actual presentation would have substance and not just be a collection of nonsense. I was less hopeful, but in all honesty had never been able to sit through an entire speech of his. And his highlight reels were really nothing to brag about. Besides, many people have asked me if I'd ever been to a rally as anything other than a protester. So I wanted to keep an open mind. I decided to give him a clean slate for the evening, even after the deplorable beginning.

He didn't start well.

He opened with "They say that this is a Democrat state" which was greeted by the loudest booing of the evening. He went on to vilify Democrats throughout the speech as "for crime" and "for raising taxes" and "for open borders", the same easily disprovable rhetoric that's in almost all of his greatest hits clips. He expressed wonder that anyone would ever want to be a democrat since they are pro crime, they "embrace socialism", they want open borders to bring in drugs and violent gangs. And I quote from his speech,

"I've said it. And I'll say it as many times as you want to hear it. That it's because of their policy. The Democrats are truly the party of crime. (Applause) And the Dems are willing to do anything, to hurt anyone, to get the power they so desperately crave."

He pointed out the media to a chorus of boos and labeled them "fake news". He stated that "if we could only get them on our side, we'd win for a thousand years". Which seemed like a creepy shout out to Hitler claiming the Third Reich would last for a thousand years. He followed that up with saying that we had to keep focusing on "America First". All met with cheers, of course.

He praised himself for reworking NAFTA and teased the crowd with even more "deals" to come, and again claimed that his administration was the best two years of presidenting in the history of our country. I laughed out loud and got some glares from people around me, but it was as funny a statement tonight as when he said it at the UN.

He said that even China wants to make a deal, but he's not having it. "They're not ready yet. I told them, they're not ready. Nope. Not ready." And claimed again that he makes the best deals. Better than any other president in history.

He praised Kavenaugh effusively, and condemned the evil democrats whose only objective was to obstruct and deter an "incredible judge" from getting his rightful seat on the SCOTUS.

Before he started to introduce the people he came to stump for, he went of on some weird tangent listing off states that loved him like Missouri, West Virginia, Tennessee and others and never did find the point. This wasn't an isolated instance. He started many, many sentences that rambled away from any point throughout the evening, garnering cheers and whoops from his supporters, sometimes even at appropriate times.

It was a disjointed and disturbing speech on the whole. He demeaned, vilified, and insulted his political opponents and praised himself without any supporting evidence for either. His supporters loved it, of course, as it spoke directly to their world views of the evil Democrats trying to destroy the America that they love. It painted clearly defined "bad guys" - Democrats primarily, who are now to blame for the woes of immigrants and crime - and told them exactly who the "good guys" are... Only Republicans. If anyone came hoping to hear any kind of unifying speech or inclusive ideas, they were sadly disappointed.

Many years ago I had the chance to see Pope John Paul II in person, along with several thousand others. I'm not Catholic, and don't much care for some of their practises. But when he entered the immense hall, he had a presence about him. I was probably half a football field away from him at least, but I could sense it. His words were hopeful and loving. His demeanor was humble. Even a non - Catholic skeptic like me still found him to be incredibly moving, and I enjoyed being in his presence.

I was around twenty or thirty feet from 45. While his sycophants were almost in tears with their adoration of him, I didn't feel any presence. He seemed like a stereotypical used car salesman. He carried himself with the attitude of entitlement, and I think he genuinely believed that everyone there loved him. But in all, I didn't feel like I was in the presence of any sort of "great" man. It just felt...sad. Like he was desperate for the cheering and applause.

I was disturbed by his fawning supporters though. Literally willing to cheer any mess of words that tumbled from his mouth. They didn't really listen for comprehension, just for buzzwords to cheer or boo. Case in point was when he mentioned ICE, saying "The Democrats want to get rid of ICE." but before they could boo he added quickly "How about ICE, huh?" So the booing started after his impromptu line and it sounded like they were booing ICE. It only faded uncomfortably several sentences in to him saying how tough and wonderful ICE is.

I was hoping that there might be something different about attending a Trump rally in person than the usual stuff we see in the media. But from start to finish, those hopes were dashed. All of the "fake news" we see about his fans, his speeches, his incoherent ramblings... were all present tonight. He made a point of the "thousands and thousands of people in the auditorium" as well as the thousands and thousands more in the overflow room he'd just left, and the thousands upon thousands waiting outside.

Maybe we were in an "Alternative Overflow Room"?

Even as we left, the crowds outside around the giant monitor had dwindled, so it's really going to be hard to believe any word from the White House claiming tens of thousands turning out in Rochester.

I mentioned to Shelly as we left that I really wanted a shower, and maybe some bleach for my eyes, as I witnessed some truly disgusting and deplorable behavior. As we stepped outside, we found that it had been raining. I turned to Shel and said,

"See. Even God thinks Rochester needs a shower after this thing."

Shelly mentioned last week that she was going because "How often do you get to see a President?"

Honestly, I'm still looking forward to seeing an American President for the first time. Because I didn't see anything presidential tonight.