While some southern Minnesota counties have literally hundreds of wind turbines dotting the corn and soybean-filled landscape, another south-central county has basically banned them. Nicollet County, just outside of Mankato, has just made it nearly impossible (h/t) to build the clean energy-generating windmills.
By requiring a one-half mile setback from any dwelling/residence, Nicollet County has effectively stifled any hopes of wind energy spurring a monetary infusion into the county and it's also crushed the hopes of Gustavus Adolphus whose college campus in the city of St. Peter wanted to erect a wind turbine both as a symbolic measure of their commitment to the environment and as a working model that a large business can make strides to be self-sustained.
Oh, sure, cities use the argument that wind turbines can be an eyesore and are unpleasant to see in a city's skyline. Well, in case most cities haven't noticed - especially in the suburbs - their skylines are defined by water towers and cell phone antennas. Those aren't exactly landmarks when every damn city looks like its neighbor. Maybe these head-up-their-ass elected officials need to look to the future instead of their oh-so-pristine skylines and think about the next generation because if every kilowatt continues to come from coal, the skies could be so dirty that you wouldn't be able to see your water towers and cell phone antennas.
MinnPics is also on board with the majestic coolness of wind turbines dotting Minnesota's farmscapes because they look awesome in photos.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Monday, September 28, 2009
Phlegm and energy drinks
It is unbelievable what interrupted sleep does to a guy. Granted, I wasn't awake for 90 minutes like my old lady was but even the 30 minutes in which I was awake and the 30 minutes early I had to wake up takes it toll.
It all started Saturday night. The baby was coughing alot. She even managed to turn it in to a game. With each cough, regardless of its intensity, she'd physically remove her pacifier and throw it. This was because it happened without her help one time that she coughed but I congratulated her on making a cough at least entertaining for herself. She eventually hacked up a puddle of phlegm. Thankfully we have hardwood floors in her bedroom.
But last night her coughing was a bit more consistent. Her tiny coughs shook her body. Her face turned red and she cried... alot. The only difference was that, before putting her to bed, she hadn't hacked up any phlegm. We took this as a good sign.
And it was a good sign until I was awakened at 3:55 AM by my old lady asking if I planned on doing anything. That is when she informed me that she had already been up for an hour and that the baby was sitting up in the corner of her crib crying and hacking. I slowly stumbled out of bed and picked up the little ball of rage and made my way down stairs to make her a bottle to at least soothe her somewhat.
Upon returning upstairs and her successfully hacking up a tiny pool of phlegm, I noticed something in her hair just above her ear. It was phlegm. Yes, the baby had managed, during her hacking, to launch some lung snot into her brown hair.
So, after all that, and her sleeping in our bed last night, here I am. Sleep deprived, unfocused and with a slight headache. I dread returning home after work because I know that my old lady will be crabby. And I know that plenty of other parents have much worse ordeals with their children but this is out of the ordinary. The baby is almost perfect. She always sleeps all night and is rarely a hand full. She's even rather drink from a galss like an adult.
But to get through the day, I have a 16 oz. can of Plasma Fusion Energy drink waiting in the refrigerator for me. It's from a company based just up the road (or down the road, or across town) in Eden Prairie, Minnesota. And it has real cane sugar in it. I'm thinking that it's worthy of its own review this week.
If I make it through the day, expect updated photographic goodness at MinnPics.
It all started Saturday night. The baby was coughing alot. She even managed to turn it in to a game. With each cough, regardless of its intensity, she'd physically remove her pacifier and throw it. This was because it happened without her help one time that she coughed but I congratulated her on making a cough at least entertaining for herself. She eventually hacked up a puddle of phlegm. Thankfully we have hardwood floors in her bedroom.
But last night her coughing was a bit more consistent. Her tiny coughs shook her body. Her face turned red and she cried... alot. The only difference was that, before putting her to bed, she hadn't hacked up any phlegm. We took this as a good sign.
And it was a good sign until I was awakened at 3:55 AM by my old lady asking if I planned on doing anything. That is when she informed me that she had already been up for an hour and that the baby was sitting up in the corner of her crib crying and hacking. I slowly stumbled out of bed and picked up the little ball of rage and made my way down stairs to make her a bottle to at least soothe her somewhat.
Upon returning upstairs and her successfully hacking up a tiny pool of phlegm, I noticed something in her hair just above her ear. It was phlegm. Yes, the baby had managed, during her hacking, to launch some lung snot into her brown hair.
So, after all that, and her sleeping in our bed last night, here I am. Sleep deprived, unfocused and with a slight headache. I dread returning home after work because I know that my old lady will be crabby. And I know that plenty of other parents have much worse ordeals with their children but this is out of the ordinary. The baby is almost perfect. She always sleeps all night and is rarely a hand full. She's even rather drink from a galss like an adult.
But to get through the day, I have a 16 oz. can of Plasma Fusion Energy drink waiting in the refrigerator for me. It's from a company based just up the road (or down the road, or across town) in Eden Prairie, Minnesota. And it has real cane sugar in it. I'm thinking that it's worthy of its own review this week.
If I make it through the day, expect updated photographic goodness at MinnPics.
Friday, September 25, 2009
A letter to myself in 1997
What would you write, in letter form, to yourself in the year you graduated high school? Would you tell yourself to totally change your course? Would you advise taking a year off from life and travel and explore the world? Would you tell yourself to chase more tail or to keep it in your pants? What the hell would I tell myself to do?
Dear 18 year-old me,
I know you're starting college this fall and that's a good thing. I also know that you're not going to get much in the way of a meaningful degree. Stay in college longer. There's no shame in sticking around for five or six years - it's a good time and the education and degree you get out of it will actually offset the tremendous amount of debt you'll incur. Oh, and you might want to expand your educational horizons a bit as well. I know you're set on being a graphic designer and websites which you see as cool but boring in their design will change drastically in the next twelve years.
It's fine that you want to get a degree in graphic design but have a fallback plan - learn as much as you can about websites - design, language, etc. because by 2007 you'll realize that shit's gonna hit the fan and your dream of making it really, really big in print graphic design will be just a dream.
Secondly, don't be apprehensive about leaving the area you already know. Move, travel, lighten the fuck up. That one friend who opened your mind to all of that cool music was a great first step. Be sure to keep in touch with her. That's one of those friendships you'll still have when you're fumbling with your dentures.
And that friend with cool tastes in music, she's going to be totally right about that girl, who in a year, will want to date you. Sure she's totally fun and wild but she's also crazy and not in a good way. Oh, she's also pregnant. You won't see that one coming.
Moving on now. Immerse yourself in something and dream big. No, bigger.
Finally, don't be a dumbass. I know you'll do some pretty stupid shit in your early twenties. Enjoy it but you're gonna come close to actually offing yourself because of your stupidity. Oh, sure, you'll laugh about it later but that's only because your friends were there to save your stupid ass from almost certain death or at least very, very painful injuries.
In the end, thing turn out alright. At 30 years old you own a house, you're married, you own a couple of Toyotas and a swingset you built. Oh, and you have a kid. She's pretty damn cute, too. Sure, you still want more but the things you want are only to further challenge yourself so that's a good thing. But that idea you have at thirty of eventually owning an apple orchard, I'll just tell 18 year-old me (you) to remember that the apple business is rather crowded and way too damn competitive to be worth the trouble.
Speaking of apples, MinnPics will probably have some orchard photos as fall kicks in to gear.
Dear 18 year-old me,
I know you're starting college this fall and that's a good thing. I also know that you're not going to get much in the way of a meaningful degree. Stay in college longer. There's no shame in sticking around for five or six years - it's a good time and the education and degree you get out of it will actually offset the tremendous amount of debt you'll incur. Oh, and you might want to expand your educational horizons a bit as well. I know you're set on being a graphic designer and websites which you see as cool but boring in their design will change drastically in the next twelve years.
It's fine that you want to get a degree in graphic design but have a fallback plan - learn as much as you can about websites - design, language, etc. because by 2007 you'll realize that shit's gonna hit the fan and your dream of making it really, really big in print graphic design will be just a dream.
Secondly, don't be apprehensive about leaving the area you already know. Move, travel, lighten the fuck up. That one friend who opened your mind to all of that cool music was a great first step. Be sure to keep in touch with her. That's one of those friendships you'll still have when you're fumbling with your dentures.
And that friend with cool tastes in music, she's going to be totally right about that girl, who in a year, will want to date you. Sure she's totally fun and wild but she's also crazy and not in a good way. Oh, she's also pregnant. You won't see that one coming.
Moving on now. Immerse yourself in something and dream big. No, bigger.
Finally, don't be a dumbass. I know you'll do some pretty stupid shit in your early twenties. Enjoy it but you're gonna come close to actually offing yourself because of your stupidity. Oh, sure, you'll laugh about it later but that's only because your friends were there to save your stupid ass from almost certain death or at least very, very painful injuries.
In the end, thing turn out alright. At 30 years old you own a house, you're married, you own a couple of Toyotas and a swingset you built. Oh, and you have a kid. She's pretty damn cute, too. Sure, you still want more but the things you want are only to further challenge yourself so that's a good thing. But that idea you have at thirty of eventually owning an apple orchard, I'll just tell 18 year-old me (you) to remember that the apple business is rather crowded and way too damn competitive to be worth the trouble.
Speaking of apples, MinnPics will probably have some orchard photos as fall kicks in to gear.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Cougars in the suburbs?
By now we all know that the suburban cougar is alive and well. The suburban cougar is pursued by young males everywhere. If I weren't married, I'd probably be pursuing a cougar for myself because she'd probably have a few tricks up her sleeve. But today I'm not talking about that suburban cougar that hangs out at bars and wears seductive clothing. Today I'm talking about real cougars in the giant feline form.
A local thoroughbred who was supposed to be a spokeshorse of sorts for other retired ponies was attacked by what many think to be a cougar on a farm in Prior Lake near a Shakopee elementary school. I've always had my doubts about the tales I've heard since moving here about cougars and coyotes roaming the valleys along the Minnesota River. My wife is particularly adamant about the existence of coyotes. She recounts memories of hearing them on the farm she grew up on just above the Minnesota River. Her brothers had seen coyotes in the woods near the farm and her dad had shot at them to scare them away on numerous occasions.
Again, I had my doubts. I never believe something until I've seen it with my own eyes. Then one night while driving in the Belle Plaine area along Highway 169 I actually saw a small dog-like animal standing on the shoulder of the road. I knew it wasn't a fox - I have seen plenty of those while growing up in far southern Minnesota. My wife immediately told me that it was a coyote.
And that is exactly what the Minnesota DNR thinks attacked My Friend Deke, the horse that was stabling in Prior Lake. If I lived in that immediate area or had kids who attended that particular elementary school, I'd be alreat but not concerned. After all, we are the ones who encroached on the area which these wild animals call home. Six years ago when I moved here, that particular area was still corn fields and woods. Now it is leveled and full of half-million dollar homes and strip malls. When humans and animals try to co-exist, it's usually the animals who end up losing the battle in the end but a cougar or a coyote attacking a farm animal should serve as a wake-up call that we are all pissing nature off.
If you like nature and want to embrace it, check out MinnPics which often times showcases fabulous photos of Minnesota's natural beauty.
A local thoroughbred who was supposed to be a spokeshorse of sorts for other retired ponies was attacked by what many think to be a cougar on a farm in Prior Lake near a Shakopee elementary school. I've always had my doubts about the tales I've heard since moving here about cougars and coyotes roaming the valleys along the Minnesota River. My wife is particularly adamant about the existence of coyotes. She recounts memories of hearing them on the farm she grew up on just above the Minnesota River. Her brothers had seen coyotes in the woods near the farm and her dad had shot at them to scare them away on numerous occasions.
Again, I had my doubts. I never believe something until I've seen it with my own eyes. Then one night while driving in the Belle Plaine area along Highway 169 I actually saw a small dog-like animal standing on the shoulder of the road. I knew it wasn't a fox - I have seen plenty of those while growing up in far southern Minnesota. My wife immediately told me that it was a coyote.
And that is exactly what the Minnesota DNR thinks attacked My Friend Deke, the horse that was stabling in Prior Lake. If I lived in that immediate area or had kids who attended that particular elementary school, I'd be alreat but not concerned. After all, we are the ones who encroached on the area which these wild animals call home. Six years ago when I moved here, that particular area was still corn fields and woods. Now it is leveled and full of half-million dollar homes and strip malls. When humans and animals try to co-exist, it's usually the animals who end up losing the battle in the end but a cougar or a coyote attacking a farm animal should serve as a wake-up call that we are all pissing nature off.
If you like nature and want to embrace it, check out MinnPics which often times showcases fabulous photos of Minnesota's natural beauty.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Contemplating pubic baldness
From a curious mind come bizarre questions. Most of my questions relate to pubic hair and baldness. It was only a matter of time until the two topics collided.
I'm no scientist but if general baldness can happen (of the cranium) who's to say that pubic baldness couldn't happen? Sure, some view pubic hair as nothing more than another hassle to maintain what with the constant trimming, washing, combing, perming and braiding so these people would likely view pubic balding as more of a blessing than a curse.
However, I see pubic balding among the general population as a potential profit center. Think of the millions of dollars made by the makers of Rogaine. The men buying these cans of foam are desperate to hold on to and re-grow their hair. It makes sense that vanity, as fair as hair goes, would continue to one's nether regions and extend below the belt. Pubic hair, in spite of the general view that presentation of it and the pubic region is best left behind closed doors, is nothing to be ashamed of.
Maybe we're to the point in our evolution that pubic baldness isn't actually baldness, it could just be the natural course of things to come. Maybe three generations from now all those places doing full Brazilian waxing will be out of business because nobody has any nether-regional hair left to be excruciatingly ripped out. It would really be a blessing for all of those strippers giving table dances at King of Diamonds in Inver Grove Heights but what aabout all of those unemployed waxing technicians? What about my grandiose plans for Pubic Rogaine?
What about visiting MinnPics to make yourself clean after reading an entire post about pubic hair?
I'm no scientist but if general baldness can happen (of the cranium) who's to say that pubic baldness couldn't happen? Sure, some view pubic hair as nothing more than another hassle to maintain what with the constant trimming, washing, combing, perming and braiding so these people would likely view pubic balding as more of a blessing than a curse.
However, I see pubic balding among the general population as a potential profit center. Think of the millions of dollars made by the makers of Rogaine. The men buying these cans of foam are desperate to hold on to and re-grow their hair. It makes sense that vanity, as fair as hair goes, would continue to one's nether regions and extend below the belt. Pubic hair, in spite of the general view that presentation of it and the pubic region is best left behind closed doors, is nothing to be ashamed of.
Maybe we're to the point in our evolution that pubic baldness isn't actually baldness, it could just be the natural course of things to come. Maybe three generations from now all those places doing full Brazilian waxing will be out of business because nobody has any nether-regional hair left to be excruciatingly ripped out. It would really be a blessing for all of those strippers giving table dances at King of Diamonds in Inver Grove Heights but what aabout all of those unemployed waxing technicians? What about my grandiose plans for Pubic Rogaine?
What about visiting MinnPics to make yourself clean after reading an entire post about pubic hair?
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