DISASTER IN MINOT

My working career started at the Minot Daily News in Minot, North Dakota, then moved to KCJB radio and KXMC-TV way back in the early 1960's.  I grew up only 55 miles away.  I have relatives living in Minot.  Now, the city is facing a catastrophic flood.  The last major flood was in 1969.  The spokesman for the Army Corps of Engineers now says the city will face twice that amount of water in the next few days.  Much of the city, which lies in a valley formed by the Souris (Mouse) River will apparently be covered with water for about a week.  It sounds like the disaster that was New Orleans when Hurricane Katrina slammed into it.

My cousin, only a few months younger than I, has been evacuated from her home.  When I spoke to her, she was tearful when we talked about the force and scope of this flood.

It is a terrible, terrible flood and, as many of the news reporters are saying, Minot will be changed forever.

One of my former employers, KXMC-TV, has been broadcasting news reports live and continuously, 24 hours a day.  You can find them here.  I've been glued to it for most of the past couple of days.

I covered floods as a news reporter in North Dakota.  It's hard work and it's not a lot of fun.  If you're the type of person who prays, you might add the beleagured residents of Minot to your prayers.

SUMMMM-MER-TIME!

Yes, it's the first day of summer.  The temperature where I live is supposed to soar into the 90's today and probably will hit 100 degrees tomorrow.  (World citizens, don't panic: that's Fahrenheit, not Celsius.)

The heat will be with us until the monsoon arrives with some cooling rain. 

So . . . what to do?  Well, here's a couple of guys with the perfect solution.

MAG 70

Once upon a time, long ago, I was watching some stupid program on television which featured interviews with "famous people."  The particular star being interviewed in her home this night was the actress Kirstie Alley.  As the interviewer walked around Ms. Alley's living room with her, she stopped at a mantel, covered in framed photos.

She pointed at one of them which showed a young couple dressed to the nines.  The interviewer said to Ms. Alley "Oh, this must be your parents on their wedding day."

Ms. Alley responded "No, the photo just came with the frame!"

I don't know why that television moment has stayed with me but it still amuses me and it was my first thought when I saw this photo put forth as impetus by Willow/Tess for this week's Magpie Tales.  You can read more of them by clicking here.

FATHERS' DAY

My dad has been gone for over 30 years.  But I can remember a lot about him.  For example, his pride in this big fish he brought back from a successful trip to Canada.

Spending most of his life in North Dakota, he had plenty of experience with a snow shovel.

Late in his life, he began spending the winters in Arizona.  He had his own home, a house trailer he bought in a court not far from us.  But in his mind he was never far from his longtime home.

This is the way I like to remember him.  Smiling, enjoying a good joke.

Yes, even after all these years, I miss him.

Happy father's day, Dad.  You done good!

THEN, THERE'S ALCOHOL

When the heat of the summer comes upon us, strange things happen in the minds of my loved ones.

SWMBO, for example, has created a new cocktail.  She hasn't named it, that I know of, but I tend to think of it as Mexican Mafia Tiger's Blood.  It is constructed of lemonade, an Italian sparkling fruit drink called Blood Orange, and tequila.  Served over ice in a wine glass with a salted rim. 



The BRD, on the other hand, was photographed recently in . . . well, let me just show you.

It appears I'm not the only oddball in this family.

IT HARDLY SEEMS 100 YEARS OLD

As I walked out to the mailbox this morning, I spied an unusual sight for my neighborhood.  It was a Century Plant. 

Now the Agave parryi, as the scientists like to call it, is common in Arizona but usually at lower altitudes.  I don't think I've ever seen one in bloom in my neighborhood, which is around 5,100 feet elevation.

The plant gets its name from the fact that it only blooms once in its life.  But rather than once every 100 years, it's more like around 25 years.  The flowering stalk, which can get up to about 15 feet tall, grows so fast it takes all the energy out of the plant, which then dies.  That means the flowering part will turn into a dry, wooden stalk.

So it takes awhile and then it doesn't last long and you will probably never get another bloom but the one time it's there, it is a sight to behold.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PAL!

Take a look at my old, old, old buddy.  This is Steve Torbeck.

Steve has a birthday tomorrow, June 14th, 2011.   He will become 62!  It's his first Social Security birthday and he deserves it.

I got to know Steve back in 1972 (he claims) when he came up from the "minors" in Tucson to join we "professionals" at what was then KTAR-TV in Phoenix.  If Steve is correct, I beat him there only by months.  I was a reporter/producer, Steve was a photographer.  We hooked up and became great friends, probably due to the fact that we both liked to drink and be silly.  Lots of adventures ensued. 

Steve quit drinking more than a couple of decades ago and it probably saved his life.  I haven't and it probably hasn't.  But, amazingly, nearly 40 years later, we're both still alive.

Steve went on to become a "one man band" at Channel 12, originating "12 Country", where he not only photographed but reported stories from around Arizona.  I can remember arguing with him about doing a "stand-up" in his pieces.  He didn't want to, thinking (as many, many other reporters did in those naive days) that it just distracted from his story.  I told him those days were gone, he was now a "star" and it was necessary to do it and keep his job.  So, he finally agreed.

He left the t.v. station before I did and started his own company, which was known then and today as First Take Video.  The name was a kind of in-joke dating back to his days in Tucson, where he earned the nickname Five Take Torbeck.

During my days as a reporter, Steve did me well.  Later, during my days as a producer, he did me well with his reports from the backroads of Arizona.

And during the past few years, after Steve became a hardcore baseball fan, he's done me well by inviting me to join him at games in Phoenix.

Steve is one of my true, good friends.

Happy birthday, pal.  I love you.  (But for god's sake, don't ever tell anyone I said that!)