There are a thousand ways to let your inexperienced children get themselves killed before they are old enough to know better. Letting them chase around and harass wild animals such as Canada Geese in Chambers Grove Park is as good as any. Check out this link to why letting your cute little 3-year-old daughter chase 50 wild geese in circles is an all around bad idea before you lose your mind over the stranger advising you against this activity, you silly lady.
On April 26 at the Husky Energy Oil Refinery in Superior, public safety officials responding to a series of petroleum explosions that rocked the area were also concerned a tank holding 78,000 lbs. of hydrogen fluoride was going to explode. Being unfamiliar with this substance, perhaps as many of you were, I was compelled to explore the many wonders and uses of hydrogen fluoride.
Lambs rather … I enjoy the old-world taste of their meat and find it difficult to procure at my local super mart. I feel their presence would reduce the amount of lawn mowing while cutting down on my risk of heart attack or stroke as they sooth me with their constant bleating and licking of salt from my fingers. I’m talking like one or two maybe, but there is some (dumbass) rule in zoning preventing me from doing this legally, or they’d be everywhere. What if it was small and I kept a muzzle on it at night?
As this gem appears to have little if any local coverage whilst topping the list of our truly closest encounters, I’d like to explore it now and see if anyone in the community has memories or knowledge of this exciting chapter in history.
One of my favorite pastimes has to be pretending that ‘man’ hasn’t come as close as he has to setting this Garden of Eden ablaze, returning it to its former self of one giant cinder cone that only the smallest rodents underground survive. The itchy-trigger-fingers of sociopathic generals (immortalized in such films as How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb) illustrate the kind of antics that happened right over the hill from here one fateful evening.
Aside from the occasional monster wave, there is no finer display of the raw and natural violence of her majesty’s beauty than the Lake Superior Cyclone. Air is churning over the water’s surface in a melee of suction and force that would clean the beard on a Lumbersexual or the balls off a beaver. They were visible near Stoney Point on New Years day of 2010 where you could see them toward Wisconsin pulling through gravity and time, swaying in the distance of a sunny cold afternoon.
Then I heard this fishy tale from a neighbor:
Coming home from kindergarten in about the spring of 1960, after school and dressed in his spacesuit rain gear, he sees funnel clouds over the lake. As the storm passes and nearing home he notices on the lawn a patch of small silver fish, then another yard with more of them, telling his dad who doesn’t believe him a tornado could siphon a school of smelt off the lake into the hills of old Piedmont.
It’s been a while since Perfect Duluth Day held any rousing debates on the Duluth School Board and its ensuing antics as Loren Martel has issued one scathing indictment after another, illustrating in great detail the buffoonery he believes gurgles forth from this wily group of characters.
I’d like to field some of your fair and balanced opinions on what you think of this current chapter of someday Duluth history. How do you feel about the school board heading into 2015? The narrator will refrain from comment.
During my ongoing studies of the elusive exclusive Northland reclusive, I went to the beach yesterday, a veritable Norwegian Riviera with air and water temps nearly perfect, and was amazed to find the entire place nearly deserted as I lay there panting in my speedos, hoping to shock some poor unsuspecting teens. But only one mom passed by in almost two hours, disgusted that she and I, we, were now in proximity to each other.
In a move sure to stun future generations while staying true to his Lutheran and Epsilon roots, the Minnesota house and senate led by Governor Mark Dayton, winning the big one for his home team, finally signed into law a bill sponsored by Hibbing’s very own Carly Melin, a fine example of Range woman herself, attractive and learned, also with probable Scandinavian and German heritage, with neither of them having ever had any actual experiences or contact with the Cannabis plant themselves, on their persons or with any of their families or friends therein …
October 10, 2013, I took a trip to Copper Harbor to visit the old-growth stand of white pines, many said to be saplings around the time Columbus visited America. Then while passing through Congdon Park a few days later, discovered the most amazing tree I’d ever seen appearing larger than the trees in Michigan. Looking at old photographs of the hillsides of Minnesota towns rising out of the prairies and hills of the 19th century, trees are absent throughout, scalped from the earth as far as the eye can see. Maybe some buffalo hides stacked over by the saloon, a church, a brothel, somebody feeding pigs behind the blacksmith’s shop, but no trees. This got me to wondering if Marjorie Congdon herself had protected this tree, wrapping her arms around it passionately in her lovely white dress while the press snapped photos.
There it was in the autumn light though, spiraling into the sky, a vast oasis unto itself. Through sheer fortitude, having carved its way into rock along the banks, supported precariously by one large main root, but with an all too extreme angle for its massive size. When I went down there yesterday evening, it lay a broken shattered remnant of its glorious former self.
After skiing the Lester, I was pretty cold and a little wet, but decided to go down and check the ice structures at Brighton Beach anyway. The few people there sat in their cars but I walked out and gave them something to look at — a guy walking around looking at the lake. Then I witnessed an improperly dressed dude walking his Labrador turn back abruptly to the safety of his car. Black Lab you ask? Hell no! The cold didn’t bother him one god damned second. He was living in the moment. Happy as can be.
This thread buds for you, Mr. Black Lab.
Well, this is a pretty big anniversary. Not two months after his 1963 stay in the Hotel Duluth, Jack found a bullet, or three, in Dallas. I’ve been reading up on the frothy array of differing assassination opinions and greatly look forward to another go around with the subject this week on PBS. The more you get into it, the deeper and messier it gets, the more suspects there are, and on and on. I doubt the fine bloggers of PDD are closer to the truth than anyone, but please, offer your ideas or memories.
Jim Heffernan’s Blog: “A Kennedy affair to remember — even in Duluth“
There are so many potentially creepy houses in Duluth, especially along Greysolon Road. Aren’t you just dying to know what’s in the basement? Could be catacombs of dead people you weren’t aware of, or an ancient demon perhaps.
Rooms can be very difficult to photograph, but post your photos/video tours here anyway. If you think the space is creepy but the photo doesn’t convey it, feel free to add some description as to why this place is so dreadfully scary.
For those us who are new here, having only lived in Duluth for a decade or less, can any of you proud professional Duluthians add any clarity to this murky and mysterious topic?
I’m sure it goes deep, and emotions run high, and minds are made up, but I can’t seem to find any unbiased sources that describe what has exactly happened here. The available info, that which surfaces when one Googles the keywords seem somewhat scrambled and wishy washy, or Bud Lightish, considering the impact and money involved. So, who are the good guys? Who is right? What’s the deal with Johnson Controls? And did the deal have anything to do with Duluth’s irascible money woes back when taxes spiked when the JCI took control? Also, seeing as how I heard a couple of old timers complaining about this too, is the recent sewage water runoff charge mega increase on city utilities somehow all tied to this, or the casino? Is it starting to read like a Tarantino script? Help the undereducated non-native tax-paying simpletons like myself get up to speed on this complex matter. Thanks.
I was at the Arrowhead/Woodland intersection yesterday, and I’m not making this up, I witnessed two young college ladies making a turn and texting at the same time, back to back, faces pointed toward their lap when they were turning. I was only at this intersection for 30 seconds — multiply by the thousands of times youths text and drive through this turn. But there is nothing that can be done to stop them, because even though we’re all just primates, they’re prettier than you. So you just have to sit there and wait for one of them to kill you while they’re typing OMG!
I’ve got 61 degrees on the front porch. Any thoughts or memories from native Duluthians, what winter used to be like?
