Rik's Ramblings

                                        February 20^th, 2012

            The Duluth Boat Sport and Travel Show is tearing itself apart as I sit in  comfort looking down  from the red line section of the old hockey seats.  My wife and son attended the show twice this year and from the elbow rubbing we did, the attendance was pretty good.  The vendors sure can’t complain about the weather.  It was perfect.  No snow, rain, wind or sub zero temps.   Drooling over the Lunds, Rangers, Glastrons, Mighty Toons and other boats is a Jordan family tradition dating back to 1980 when we boat our 2^nd boat at the show.

            On the Sunday,(the last day) of that show, we returned after mulling over the hundreds of boats we found a few days earlier. I had a hunch that this dealer from out of town, might be willing to take a Jordan check and let me haul it home, rather than him hauling it up the North Shore to his storage lot.   I was right.  He readily took the check, and we took possession to a 1980 Grumman, 14 footer with a 25 horse Johnson and trailer.  Our first new boat.  My wife’s great uncle, John, from the Bemidji area, had gifted us with a very, very, well used 14 foot Crestliner when we lived in Grand Rapids. Red wooden seats and gunnels and a three horse Johnson Sea Horse motor.   Remember the kind that took a gallon of gas on the top then spin the motor around for reverse?  We had to be very cautious to get every dram of gas out of the carburetor, or it would be near impossible to start it the next time.

            In the rear of that old boat was a drain plug that would screw into the floor.  After a few years, the soft aluminum plug threads had worn off and we couldn’t get it tight.  Hence, water would pour into the boat, and in a few hours, it was near danger.    

            The natural answer would be to buy a new drain plug.   No dice.  Not even the factory had a replacement plug to fit.   So my wife suggested a carrot.  It worked.   Every few trips, we would get a new carrot.  Cheap, easy to find, and it worked perfectly.  Only one problem:  Our dog, Kerry, decided that a carrot was first-rate food and every so often a splashing clamor would alert us to her robbery.  We sold that boat five years later, complete with a carrot for the new owner.  He never reported back, on if he found a proper, aluminum replacement. 

            So, in 1980, the family had a spanking new Grumman boat, complete with flat carpeted floor.  New motor.  Swivel seats.  Depth finder.  Rod holder on the port side and a drain plug that worked.  The dealer even threw in a dandy travel cover. 

            Checking out the boats at this year’s show, I don’t think I saw any new boat that was tricked out so sparingly.  We put a lot of miles on that boat, motor, and trailer.  Lots of Boundary Waters lakes allowed us in too since it was a 25 horse motor.  With two offspring and a dog, we weren’t too eager about paddling, so that boat hauled our gear to some classic camping spots. petite and spare as it was, that Grumman treated us very well. I think the Grumman Company quit making those boats a few years later, but to be honest, they had a few cool ideas that only now are being seen on the expensive rigs.

            I never saw the boat again.  Can’t even remember the new owner’s name.  I hope his young family had as much fun with that cheap little rig as we did.  Great memories of Boat Sport and Travel Show 1980.                  Keep a tight line.         

                                        February 20^th, 2012

            The Duluth Boat Sport and Travel Show is tearing itself apart as I sit in  comfort looking down  from the red line section of the old hockey seats.  My wife and son attended the show twice this year and from the elbow rubbing we did, the attendance was pretty good.  The vendors sure can’t complain about the weather.  It was perfect.  No snow, rain, wind or sub zero temps.   Drooling over the Lunds, Rangers, Glastrons, Mighty Toons and other boats is a Jordan family tradition dating back to 1980 when we boat our 2^nd boat at the show.

            On the Sunday,(the last day) of that show, we returned after mulling over the hundreds of boats we found a few days earlier. I had a hunch that this dealer from out of town, might be willing to take a Jordan check and let me haul it home, rather than him hauling it up the North Shore to his storage lot.   I was right.  He readily took the check, and we took possession to a 1980 Grumman, 14 footer with a 25 horse Johnson and trailer.  Our first new boat.  My wife’s great uncle, John, from the Bemidji area, had gifted us with a very, very, well used 14 foot Crestliner when we lived in Grand Rapids. Red wooden seats and gunnels and a three horse Johnson Sea Horse motor.   Remember the kind that took a gallon of gas on the top then spin the motor around for reverse?  We had to be very cautious to get every dram of gas out of the carburetor, or it would be near impossible to start it the next time.

            In the rear of that old boat was a drain plug that would screw into the floor.  After a few years, the soft aluminum plug threads had worn off and we couldn’t get it tight.  Hence, water would pour into the boat, and in a few hours, it was near danger.    

            The natural answer would be to buy a new drain plug.   No dice.  Not even the factory had a replacement plug to fit.   So my wife suggested a carrot.  It worked.   Every few trips, we would get a new carrot.  Cheap, easy to find, and it worked perfectly.  Only one problem:  Our dog, Kerry, decided that a carrot was first-rate food and every so often a splashing clamor would alert us to her robbery.  We sold that boat five years later, complete with a carrot for the new owner.  He never reported back, on if he found a proper, aluminum replacement. 

            So, in 1980, the family had a spanking new Grumman boat, complete with flat carpeted floor.  New motor.  Swivel seats.  Depth finder.  Rod holder on the port side and a drain plug that worked.  The dealer even threw in a dandy travel cover. 

            Checking out the boats at this year’s show, I don’t think I saw any new boat that was tricked out so sparingly.  We put a lot of miles on that boat, motor, and trailer.  Lots of Boundary Waters lakes allowed us in too since it was a 25 horse motor.  With two offspring and a dog, we weren’t too eager about paddling, so that boat hauled our gear to some classic camping spots. petite and spare as it was, that Grumman treated us very well. I think the Grumman Company quit making those boats a few years later, but to be honest, they had a few cool ideas that only now are being seen on the expensive rigs.

            I never saw the boat again.  Can’t even remember the new owner’s name.  I hope his young family had as much fun with that cheap little rig as we did.  Great memories of Boat Sport and Travel Show 1980.                  Keep a tight line.         

                                       The Dreaded Valentines Day

Oh Valentine’s Day.  A downfall for men.  I’ve been married since the day man walked on the moon.  You do the math.  Each February, I ask her the same question as around Christmas”:  What would you like for a present.  Each year, it’s the same answer. “ Nothing,” or “anything.”

I dare any man who’s married or has a serious relationship with a sweetheart to get her nothing.  That could lead to a bona fide catastrophe.  In the comic section of the Duluth paper February 12^th, was a perfect example of “get her whatever thing.”  The cartoon is on page 2, called “Daddy’s home”.  Instead of the usual diamond shaped hearts or chocolate or fancy gift, Daddy buys her a little something that the house needs anyway:  a toilet seat.  

            I say “way to go.”  It’s practical.  It’s Inexpensive and from the looks of it, very comfortable too. 

            But guys, I have a secret.  And a real gem.  My wife truthfully does not care if it is expensive.   She doesn’t care if I get her anything.  She is very fiscal.  She’d settle for a hug.

But, I do always plan get her something.  It’s a type of a history lesson I learned back in high school when we first dated.  Apparently, she thought we had a date on Valentines  night, one that I didn’t know about.  That still is a contention that seems to come up about every February 12^th.  So, to be very safe, I make sure something is wrapped in pretty colors and presented to her on Valentine’s Day. 

This year, it’s a nail file.  It’s real nice.  Picked it up at the ABC store in Waikiki in January and saved for Valentine’s Day.  The cost:  59 cents plus tax.  Practical, Hawaiian, nice memory, and it’s washable.     Good luck guys.

            My two older sisters tell me that I was about one year old when our dad brought home a black Cocker Spaniel that we called Cindy.  We’d just moved into a house in the rural parts of Hennepin County, west of Minneapolis.  I think the dog got her name by being black as cinders, rather than the Princess Cinderella.  It doesn’t matter, because Cindy she was, and for 15 years she was my companion.  Through thick, thin, snapping turtle attacks and nosey neighbors Cindy was there with me.  She went missing shortly after my 16^th birthday, and I found her floating in the swamp behind our house.  Darn sad moment for me and my father.  We’d lost my mother a couple of years earlier and one thing on top of another, old Cindy had been the constant memory .  We were not hunters by any sorts, though she was always beside me as I wandered through the many new housing developments springing up, including Southdale.  We chased Redwing Blackbirds, squirrels, and rode with Roy Rogers on imaginary chases.

                                    Always a dog as a companion.

 Just after Cindy left us, I ended up dating a pretty young girl named Nancy whose family had a brown and white Springer.  That dog was a great friend too , through about 1973 when she died.

            Nancy and I added a son, Geoff, to the mix in 1970, and around 1974 he suddenly decided that he was afraid of dogs.  Oh no, I thought, no kid of mine goes without a dog and no kid of mine can ever be afraid of dogs, 

                        Move forward to 1974.

 Nancy is a nurse; I am working three jobs while finishing my last year of studies at Mankato State University.  Geoff, age 4, and I found Kerry The Fire Dog in a backyard litter of pretty white and tan mutts.  The name and title come from a Golden Book for Children and the name Kerry was perfect.  Good old Kerry.  She helped raise Geoff and then Matt and keep the squirrels and chippies at bay at four different homes until 1990.  She died at Secret Lake while the kids were putting the boat into the water.  She loved the boat.   She’d sit up on the bow seat, ears flapping, just waiting for anything to happen.  Old Kerry would NEVER get her feet wet, but she loved the boat.  It was a sad burial for The Fire Dog.  Wrapped in an old Charlie Brown blanket that Grandma had made when one of the boys was in the crib stage.  Kerry got a regal send off.

                        Not to be without a dog ever again,

We got Casey, a blonde cocker Spaniel.  That didn’t work out so well.  He turned out to be a bitter and a snarly little rascal.  We always said that he was a good citizen 98% of the time, but watch out for the other 2 %.  He left us in 1992, after Sag  joined our family.

            Sag is short for Saganaga Lake.   We now name our dogs after lakes where we’d had good times.   Sag was all male.  A big, happy Labrador retriever.  Bursting with fun, hard work, intelligence and love.  No stick or ball was ever left unfound.  Even when tossed as far as the eye could see.  No downed grouse,  ever got left behind.  A ball in the water would be chased until dark and he wore out four or five teenagers at the ALS Fishing tournament weigh-in station in 1995.  Clearly, the perfect dog for Secret Lake and the active family that surrounded him.  He got love and gave even more right back.

            Knowing that Labs were the dogs for us, we picked up a yellow that we named Birch.  The color of autumn Birch leaves, and also a pretty nice lake just a little north of home.  Birch, or Birchy as she was known, was the opposite of Sag.  She was quiet, very calm and didn’t care for guns.  Terrified of nearly everything except being petted.  In fact, we’d joke that she was like art.  Art in a gallery is only to be looked at.  You cannot really use art  for anything except it’s loveliness.  And that was truly Birch the dog.

            It was a sad January of 2002 when good, old, Sag lost his battle with cancer.  The cancer had attacked his hips and it was causing great pain, but even on his last day on earth, he brought a stick up for me to throw.  He was a charmer, a goof ball, and a marvelous friend.  A dark time for our family hit again.

            Then, my neighbor Marty Davis calls and says there’s a litter of Labs being born up near Grand Rapids and he wondered if I would be interest in one.  He already had dibs on one and I would be the second.  Yep.  A perfect idea.  A few weeks later, we brought home Rainy. (Another lake dog)

            Rainy had a hard task in replacing the reputation of old Saganaga.  But she did it in her own, calm way.  Not boisterous and Rainy like Sag, but instead she was quiet and moderate with way too much intelligence for this old man.  A great hunter and squirrel chaser.  She retrieve dropped fish, carried dirty clothes to the laundry room and licked me awake at 2:40 am if I was dozing through the “get-to-work” alarm. She was always there to cheer and always the one to clean up the dropped Cheetos.

            I never imagined that she would leave us so early.  After just 8 years, again, the cancer attacked.  If got her in the worst spot.  Her great big, loving heart.  The vet said a tumor grew on the sack around the heart and stole her right to live. 

            Of all the flea bitten, balls of flying fur I have had in my house, it was Rainy that really stole my love.  The emptiness that we have in these four walls is appalling. 

            After doing a little math, I find that this is the first time since 1974 that our family is without a four legged friend.   God I miss them.  How do we let them, so easily, get into our hearts?   The really good dogs (or cats) should be given permission to last forever.      

            We will get over this. We always have.  Perhaps in a couple of months., that same kennel will deliver to us another Rainy that will steal our hearts again.

            This is the longest thesis I’ve written since college.  I ask you…..Why?

                After lounging on the beach at Waikiki Beach in Hawaii, we shuffled back to our hotel room just a few long blocks up Kuhio Blvd.  The street is blocked off right now to make way for one of the pro Bowl block parties that are infesting Honolulu.  Parties galore say the placards, and from the sound of the boisterous  gang inside, it’s promising to be a long, long, party.  And a nasty hangover for more than a few.

            After getting settled in room 2810, I flipped on the TV and on came the Herb Brooks movie starring Kurt Russell.  That’s the good movie, not the one with Karl Malden made back in the 1980’s.  This one was being filmed just as Coach Brooks died in the car accident on Interstate 35 between Duluth and the Twin Cities.  The move was aired on the 32^nd anniversary of the Miracle on Ice. I think Russell played Brooks to a tee.  The hair was right on, the gum chewing, the little Minnesota accent and the clothes were vintage Brooks.  It was my privilege to be with Marsh Nelson on a broadcast of the USA versus Canada Olympic game in Hibbing a couple of months before Lake Placid.  We got to visit a bunch more a decade later when I hosted the Hockey Talk show on KDAL following UMD games.  Brooks was scouting for pro teams then and he loved to talk the game…”.but don’t ask me about Lake Placid please. That’s in the past.”  One show lasted nearly 90 minutes and the lines were still ringing when we called it a night.

            I got a lump in my throat watching this movie.  Not only was it well done, but also featured young hockey players that looked very similar to the skaters they were portraying.  In fact, Buzz Schneider’s son played Buzzie in the flick.  I didn’t catch any of the other actor/skaters names, but think back 32 years to what they did for the prestige of Americans.  The hockey game was just a hockey game, but by beating the Russians, it made all of us feel pretty proud.   The USA team averaged only 21 years of age.  Brotten, Vercotta, Pavlich, Harrington, Baker, Craig, McClanahan, Johnson and others…so young and so coachable.   The game was played shortly after Russia invaded Afghanistan when Russia was called The Evil Empire by USA politicians. The Summer Olympics were boycotted by the US and poor Gary Bjorklund of Twig didn’t get a chance to wow us with one of his good marathon runs.  So that January game was what we had to hang our hats on for another four years.

            It’s a funny thing to be sitting on this warm, sunny deck overlooking Waikiki Beach and be thinking  about hockey.  But ask yourself, was there a better game. In any sport?  Was there a game that meant more to you and to your nation than the USA victory over the Russians?  I don’t think so.  32 years later, and I bet you can remember where you were and what you were doing when that game was won.  I can.  I was listening to KDAL.   Aloha     Rik Jordan 

          It’s the coldest time of the year.  The last couple of weeks of January bring the coldest air, according the NOAA statics.  Look it up and you’ll also find that the warmest average temperatures come a month after the sun is at its peak in June....so July 20^th-ish is the warmest.  A month after the shortest daylight brings the cold in January around the 21^st.  Amazing isn’t it.

So, my wife and I have hit the beaches of Waikiki again.  We have found a cheap, but clean, condo two blocks up from the sands of Waikiki.  Fire trucks and crazy people galore, but it’s a far cry from the peaceful tranquility of Secret Lake.  My oldest son is keeping the fires burning at home while waiting for snow.

          A VERY SAD NOTE GREATED US THIS WEEK WHEN OUR EXCELLANT BLACK Lab Rainy fell sick with a rapidly advancing heart disease.  The vets tried what they could to save our great friend, but she moved on to another place.  I cannot express right here, what sorrow has fallen on our family.  A friend, a playmate, retriever and sleeping companion is now chasing squirrels and grouse at the right hand of God, this I know. Dog owners know the heartbreak our family has right now, while non dog/cat people cannot understand.  Rainy was the best friend any family could have had.  Too short was her time with the Jordans.

Watching the weather around Oahu and Honolulu is not like back in the Northland.  The TV weather caster has about 45 seconds to say the high is 80 and the low is 67.  He’ll tal\k about trade winds and surf and then he’s gone.  Back home, the weather people get 6 or 10 minutes to elaborate on the systems that are coming or not coming.  One of the very odd deals we have been experiencing is called VOG.  A contraction of fog and Kilauea volcano release..  I took liberty to include some information from the Wikipedia Web Site:

Vog is created when volcanic gases (primarily oxides of sulfur) react with sunlight, oxygen and moisture. The result includes sulphuric acid and other sulfates.^[2] Vog is made up of a mixture of gases and aerosols which makes it hard to study and potentially more dangerous than either on their own.^[3]

   In Hawaii, the gas plumes of Kīlauea rise up from three locations: Halemaʻumaʻu Crater, Puʻu ʻŌʻō vent, and from along the coastline where lava flows from the East Rift zone enter the ocean. The plumes create a blanket of vog that can envelop the island. Vog mostly affects the Kona coast on the west side of the Island of Hawaiʻi, where the prevailing trade winds blow the vog to the southwest and southern winds then blow it north up the Kohala coast.

      Prolonged periods of southerly Kona winds, however, can cause vog to affect the eastern side of the Island on rare occasions, and affect islands across the entire state as well.^[3] By the time the vog reaches other islands, the sulfur dioxide has largely dissipated, leaving behind ash, smoke, sulfates, and ammonia.^[4]

     Fog, which we get in the Northland is just a low wet cloud.  Smog is what the bigger cities get when auto emissions form into clouds close to the ground.  Both turn into an aerosol that can cause hea;th problems, long term.. When smog levels are high the sky looks yellowish grey because nitrogen oxides are yellow. In contrast, sulfur oxides are colorless and vog looks grey. Once vog dissipates, grey spots in the sky may for a time remain trapped in the inversion layer.

          It’s remarkable that the vog is over Oahu because we are a hundred miles from the Kilauea volcano located on what the locals call The Big Island of Hawaii.  Yet, here it is today.Voggy and hot and the tv weather girl promises that the Trade Winds will be returning in a few days to blow the vog away and bring cooler, clearer weather.

January 17 2012

            In a week, January 24, Ernest Borgnine will turn a new calendar in his life. He was born in 1917 in Hamden, Connecticut.   My math puts him at 95 next week, one of the oldest active Hollywood actors, and by all accounts, one of the most admired and well liked.   

            Borgnine is credited in 125 Hollywood made movies, with perhaps dozens more that he walked on or stood in the background. He had dozens of black and white tv appearances too, between movie jobs.    I have been a aficionado of Borgnine since my sister dragged me to see MARTY in a re-release at our neighborhood theatre.     The acclaimed romantic drama was centered on the chunky bachelor butcher living with his mother in the Bronx.  Unlucky in love in the move (not real life) Marty hooks up with Clara (Betsy Blair) and off they go.  The performance by Borginine won him awards and Hollywood’s recognition that catapulted him to a lengthy, charming career.

            Borgnine is married to a woman who, I was told, hails from the Moose Lake area.  One local Duluth restaurant owner swears that the Borgnines dined heartily more than once at a Duluth bistro and tipped well even as autograph hounds surrounded the couple.  A nice touch that confirmed the warmth of the man, and while perhaps dispelling the myth of Hollywood snobbery.

            The touching romance of Marty was a bit of a surprise for me years later when I rented the movie FROM HERE TO ETERNITY.  It was made two or three years before Marty was released.  From Here to Eternity is based in Hawaii just the weeks before the Pearl Harbor bombing.   It featured Montgomery Clift, Frank Sinatra, Burt Lancaster, Debrah Kerr, Donna Reed, Jack Warden.  Plus an up and coming Merle Travis and Claude Akins. Even soon to be Superman George Reeves had a small part.    Borgnine played SSgt.  James Judson, a vicious psycho Army bully who beat the stuffing out of Frank Sinatra’s Angelo Maggio character just before the bombs Pearl Harbor’s ships.  Borgnine said once that he’d known a guy in WWII on which to base that character.  The movie launched the career of Borgnine and others, and re-energized the sagging livelihood of Sinatra whose music was fading and proved that he could act with the best.  Reportedly, Sinatra begged and begged to get that part.

            I guess the total turnaround in character types from the nasty psycho Sergeant, to the lovable Marty, proved to Hollywood moguls that Borgnine was a talented, bankable actor.  He’s worked as steady as any man in Hollywood for50 years.   He’s a lot like Morgan Freeman who was honored earlier this month during the Golden Globe ceremonies.  Morgan seems to be in every other movie shown in the Northland.  Both guys have my respect, but Borgnine still has decades on Freemans line of business. 

            From Westerns to Outer Space, Comedies to Love Stories, Borgnine has packed a lot of great performances in those 95 years.  One of the film industries great guys.      I wish him 95 more.

            On January 10^th, the DECC Auditorium was hit with Spam.  Lots of it, in the form of Monty Pythons SPAMALOT.  The people attending knew what they were getting.  From the opening John Phillips Sousa marching music, to the very end gag for Aerial Weibe (spelling unsure), the audience got it.  The familiar music that’s their TV theme, to fish slapping, to arrogant Frenchmen and a Grail Quest, it was one big gag.  And produced just fine for us fans of the Monty Python Flying Circus.

            My wife and I had enjoyed the London performance two years ago, and the people sitting next to me compared it favorably to the Broadway version that won a Tony Award in 2005.  I had to bring to an end making comparisons to the London West End shows after awhile.    Just sit back and let the jabs and naughty puns flow over you and laugh ‘til you cry.  Even my wife, who admits not to liking Python shtick, loved both versions equally.

            If you are reading this, you probably know the TV show that started on BBC in the early 70’s.  The young men that formed the Monty Python’s,  met in Oxford Colleges doing standup comedy and local college theatre.  Taking different paths to television, they formed up to make legendary foot stomping fun.

            The London West End is England’s version of Broadway in New York City.   Only the theatres are older.  Eric Idle was one of the Pythons until they disbanded and followed their individual paths.  All the guys were extremely creative and wrote skits and bits, to combine them into TV and movie history.  I was told in London that all the skits that appear in the Spamalot play came from the pen of Eric Idle.  This would explain why some of the group’s legendary gags didn’t appear in this play.  Idle stayed with his own writing while leaving the Cleese, Jones and Palin stuff to another time.  I hope it happens soon.

            Fish slapping in Finland, coconuts carried by birds, killer rabbits, Lady of the Lake and Arthur, Sir Robin who Runs Away and wets himself, the Black Knight who loses his limbs, Jewish and gay jokes and attacks on the Broadway bankers, were all a part of Spamalot.  In a nutshell, (laugh) it was done perfectly.   No flaws of the voice, timing, music or scene changes.  Of course the scenes were not in the intricate Les Miserable mode  Too much road hauling..  Nor should Spamalot be complicated.  Keep it simple and stupid and find the Holy Grail.

            The songs were very professionally done.  Even by the audience who sang along.  We anticipated the Norwegian Parrott and Vikings eating Spam stuff thanks to quick, short teasers.  But, alas, the skits didn’t happen.  They weren’t the property of Eric Idle, remember.  But, they did find the Holy Grail of Christ.  It was being held by Duluthian Aerial Weibe. Or Weebe or something like that.  I don’t know if she was a real person or part of the Spamalot show.  But, just like Broadway and London, the Grail Cup sat under seat D-101 of the DECC Auditorium.  Stage left, next to a door so Patsy the Squire could find it and her.

            Thank you DECC for bringing Spamalot to Duluth.  Loved every second of it.    Even compared to lofty, London.  Aloha.

                   More hockey to start the New Year    1.1.12

            Hours after loading  the blog on this KDAL web site re: my favorite UMD hockey players, I was watching the NHLs Outdoor Classic All Star team.  While, not really an all time all stat game, but great players from the NY Ranger and the Flyers.  OK, at least those that could still skate and not get heart attacks in front of 47,000 fans in Philly,

            Surprise for me, out skated Shjon Podein wearing a Flyers sweater.  Podein came to the UMD Bulldogs from Rochester, John Marshall.  While skating practice on week days with the Dogs and attending classes here, he played games for the Rochester Mustangs on weekends.  It’s called a Red Shirt season, and I think was used to get those transcript grades up to snuff.  He did and ended up scoring 31 goals for the Bulldogs,, including 27 his last season.  In 1988 Podein was drafted by Edmonton and played his first NHL game in 1991. 

While not a prolific scorer, he was one of those guys named Joe.  Rip through the defensive zone, grab a loose puck and get a good play set up for the players who could find a hole in the goalie or backcheck so aggresivly, he looked illegal.   Podein was one of my favorites non super stars.  Coaches at all levels liked him for, among other things, he was a perfect penalty killer.

            Podein was in Duluth around Christmas this winter, coaching St Louis Park high schools game in the Twin Ports tournaments.  From the reports I get from the Twin Cities, he may have a big time career ahead if he ever wishes to move up the ranks. 

            Podein is the kind of player that makes a good coach.  He understands that hard work can make the difference in win or lose.  He didn’t have great natural skills:  good skills, not Watson or Hull kind of skills.  And, Podein can work well with young kids, because he’s still young at heart.  Sometimes the gifted athletes cannot connect with youngsters who aren’t blessed with f the same level of natural gifts.  He knows that you have to work extra hard and that perfect practice makes for a perfect game.

            Podein was one of my favorite interviews for Pregame Shows.  Always available and always articulate and truthful in with his words.  We called him Shh John Podein.

Philly fans loved him in that Old Timers game at the Outdoor Classic.   He even scored the first goal for the Flyers but the star of the game was the Old Legend Goaltender Bernie Parent.  My goodness, Parent must be older than me!!!                       Happy New Year    Rik

End Of The Year 2011

As 2011 wraps up, the UMD Bulldogs men’s hockey team sit atop of most college rankings.  And, why shouldn’t they.  Unbeatable since we had green grass on our lawns.  A hot goalie.   A Defense that’s knocking the foe’s over the boards and an offense that scores just enough.

          There are some great players on this season’s team, but when I walk the ring around the Amzoil Arena, I talk with fans that love to natter about the players on the “old teams”.

 I only go back to the Curt Giles era, when Jim Knapp or Stan Palmer  or Billy Oleksuk were throwing their weight around.  A 15 and 21 season still packed the arena with fans in 1975-76, until 1978-79’s team showed us what a winning season was really felt like. 

          So a guy comes up to me at the Arena and says, “Jordan nameyour all-time favorite Bulldog hockey players?”   Ouch.  That’s a tough one.  So many and so talented.  Remember as stated a few weeks ago, it’s not always the STAR players that win a hockey game.  It’s also the guys named Joe that carry the lunch buckets to the rink.  The ones who burrow after loose pucks or go into the corners and get crunched, or do the crunching along the blue line without receiving points on a scoring play.

          Favorites over my years?  Present players excluded, please: Alex Staylock and Bob Mason are my goalies.  Mason, a lefty, had a gift for brilliant saves and got down and up better than any tender before and introduced the “butterfly” style to the local fans.  Staylock carried the Bulldogs along in the playoffs a couple of times.  Both Staylock and Mason left before graduating.  Mason joined the Olympics after 1983 and Staylock turned professional.

          For defensemen, how about Tom Kurvers, Curt Guiles, Norm Maciver and Jim Johnson.  Enough said after the quartet had great professional careers following their stint with the Bulldogs.  And they all played a lot of WCHA games in their four year careers for the Bulldogs.

          Up front, Brett Hull, Bill Watson, Derek Plante, Tom Milani, a pair of Connolly’s, Mark Pavelich, Dan Lempe and Huffer Chrisetnson.   Huffer opened up one night just before Christmas in 1971, to help the Bulldogs score 9 goals against the Gophers.  Hull had hat tricks in Wisconsin both Friday and Saturday one weekend in 1985.

          Unsurprisingly, some very good players are absent from my listing, perhaps your favorites aren’t there.  To tell the truth, I might even alter a few names after I put this on the blog.  The important thing is they all entertained us and gave their all.  Remember, these are just a few of the STARS.  The guys named JOE got the puck to them and were in all probability third on the scoring sheet.

           Happy 2012     Rik

Last week one our trip East ( see previous blog ) we had a bit of trouble with our Amtrak train.  We have to tell the truth here, Amtrak has come forward and made things a little better.  Yesterday  (12/21) they called and offered a $150 voucher if we ever ride with them again.  We probably would have anyway since we like train travel, but I thought that was a very nice gesture on their part to give that kind of deal to us.  We found out later, that they knew in advance of our trip from Chicago to Washington D.C., that trouble lay ahead.  That confounded tunnel between Pittsburgh and D.C. was a known trouble spot that resulted in a bus ride for almost 200 rail passengers.  They should have been upfront with the travelers, but with their $150 it helped sweeten the sour taste left over taste.

            Every so often, we hear of this President or that, talk about propping up the United Statespassenger rail system in.  I, for one, cannot fathom the amount of millions it would take to make it a viable system of travel.  And this is from someone who likes train travel.  Without any question, I would LOVE to see the high speed rail service from the Twin Ports to the Metro area to our south.  For tourism and regular travel, I love the plans already in place and partially okay'ed by several divisions of government.  With gas prices going who knows where, someday rail travel may be more than an option...it'll be like England, Japan and Europe.  The only option. 

            Tracks are jumpy and rocky.  The seats and compartments are dated and the travel schedules are pure fiction.  The East coast is about the only portion of the USA system that makes a dime, and that is thanks to the commuter daily service. The Mega city from Maryland to Boston is one big freeway mess and they use trains daily. 

            While I’d love to see a return of passenger service, I don’t think this country is ever going to be in a position to make it possible. By possible, I think of the Europe or Japan systems.  I’ve ridden on the Japanese system and you can set your watch to their timetable without breaking your wallet.

            If you are thinking of Amtrak travel, do it.  Take that trip from The Twin Cities to Seattle.   The vista and service is top shelf.  Pretty good food too.  Just keep an open mind on those trips from Chicago Eastward.  It’s not yet top shelf.  But someday, though perhaps not in my lifetime, it will be.  At a cost of many millions.

            Most of the Jordan family now sits in a dandy Department Of Defense housing billet in Dover, Delaware.  Members of the military and former members too, can reserve these homes and thousands take advantage every day all over the world.  No doubt, the Fort on the beach in Waikiki is the most sought after, but we met here to hook up with our son coming back from Qatar.  But, how we got here is the story.

            Up at 2:00 am Saturday.  A quick bite and a travel mug of coffee, and three  hours later, we pull up to the Amtrak station off University Avenue in the Twin Cities.  Check in with the station master; get our roomette assignment, another cup of coffee.  The Empire Builder is only a few minutes late from Seattle to St. Paul, so no sweat.  After a few glances from TSI and St. Police dogs, we climb into car 8130 and roomette FF.  Very small, but private.  Did I mention very small. The train didn’t hang around long in St. Paul, so within minutes we are rolling east toward Chicago for a planned 7 ½ hour trip.  The Empire Builder rolled through neighborhoods and land that we’d never seen before, including the old caves and tunnels that burrow into the sandstone river banks.  Rumor is that Henry Ford built his plant in St. Paul to take advantage of the sand there, turning it into automotive window glass.  All I know is that as a teenager, a lot of guys used those caves for other than glass making

Shortly after crossing into Wisconsin, the trouble started.  A freight train ahead of us got bogged down by something, causing our passenger train to hold the speed down.  Then, more delays at stations along the way.  Before you know it, our Empire Builder is two hours behind schedule, and the two Jordan’s on the train are worried about catching their next connection in Chicago, the Capital Limited.  It turned out, we needn’t have worried.   The Capital Limited was limited by an engine that wouldn’t go.  Twice it was changed out.  Our first effort at leaving Chicago got about a mile.  But, my wife, always positive, loved the crab cakes in the dining car.

Finally, with speeds near 80 miles per hour, we are rocking and rolling toward Washington D.C. where our number two son has a Ford Fusion waiting.  We think. Oops.  More problems in Pennsylvania.  Another freight train is stalled on our tracks.  Then another unscheduled stop because of a tunnel construction project near Pittsburgh.  Our Capital Limited train should have gone through that tunnel around 5:30 am.  We can’t make the time.

            The tunnel is a major construction project that starts promptly at 8:00 am and the workers won’t tolerate any trains knocking down the scaffolding they’re working on.  I don’t blame them for the fear of getting run over by a train. 

            So, we got awakened by the car attendant at 5:24 am Sunday with word to pack our belongings, grab a quick coffee and powdered egg mess in the dining car as there’s busses waiting for us in Pittsburgh.  Oh joy.  A bus ride from PA to D.C.   Just what we wanted.

            Three big rigs were warmed up and loaded with some 200 passengers, and off we go to the nation’s capital.  Not the first class (with meals and bed) that we’d expected, but at least we are finally moving again.  Crowded cheek to jowl, the big bus made quick work of the interstate highway system and dropped us at the Union Station, just down from Obama’s house in Washington.  Plenty late and plenty tuckered out. We didn’t have time to call our 8^th District Congressman or the President.  And now, our son’s fancy phone that he brought in the Mideast country of Qatar wasn’t working in the USA and he wasn’t at the station in Washington.  Was he driving to Pittsburgh to uncover us?

            By some e-mail magic, we notified him that we’d try to get transportation to Wilmington, Delaware.  $139.00 for a pair of Senior Citizen Amtrak tickets to Wilmington later, and by gosh, there he is.  He even had his daughter Katie at his side alol dressed in Pretty Kitty Pink.  What a treat after a horrible trip. 

            So that’s how we ended up in a handsome three room residence on the Dover Air Force Base.  Planes flying overhead, green grass outside, our grandchild and son safe inside.   All is good.  Now, how do we get home?