Don't run from your roots

Yesterday we went on a raod trip of sorts. Sure, it wasn't to see an enormous ball of twine of Austin, MN's famed SPAM Museum but it was to see a sort of mecca for me.

Yes, we drove way the fuck out to Hutchinson, Minnesota to visit the McLeod County Fairgrounds. Now you may be wondering just why we would drive all that distance on a perfectly fine Sunday afternoon in the dead of March to visit a county fairgrounds in the middle of nowhere while the grounds are still covered with piles of snow.

The reason was toys. More specifically, Ertl brand toys.

It turns out that I had noticed a small advertisement last week about a farm toy show and being that we had the time we also made the drive.

As a bit of background for those of you who don't already know, I grew up on an actual working farm just a handful of miles from the very SPAM Museum I mentioned. Being that I was a true-blue farm boy, my parents instilled in me the fact that the best toys were farm toys. My dad bought them at area farm equipment dealers for me, my mom placed requests for them on my Christmas list and some of my hard-earned money was spent at a local -- get this -- farm toy store in, of all places, Iowa (it worked because we lived about 8 miles from Iowa).

As I got a bit older, my dad reluctantly took me on a few cold winter weekends to some farm toy shows. They were held within easy driving distance at county fairground arenas and hotel conference centers and for this farm kid, it was heaven.

Yesterday was no different. I wandered up and down the aisles of the rather busy fairgrounds arena in Hutchinson as the missus followed behind -- indulging what seemed to her an odd way to spend a Sunday. To me it seemed perfectly normal. The only thing that was out of the norm was the fact that I did not spend one single dime. I perused large collections, pricing things I knew I still had squrreled away at my parents' house and drooled over how the new toys are so much more detailed and intricate than those of days past. I jokingly asked for a couple thousand dollars to fill out the missing years in my collection as we left the arena and stopped for snacks at the nearest Casey's General Store.

This marked the end of our Sunday trek. I embraced my roots and as I scanned the radio, it stopped on a radio station playing some polka music. It was time for the wife to embrace her roots.

It made me wonder how many more closeted farm toy collectors there are in the world. Do they read this blog? What are some of the hobbies of the readers here? Did I see any of you in Hutchinson this weekend?

Sorry folks

It seems as if some honest to God douchebags are hellbent on ruining blogs now (At first, it seemed to be that messageboards were their sole target). I had over 300 spam messages on older posts originating from here over the past 24 hours and while I don't actually expect them to do anything about it, I'll be spending the latter part of the week cleaning it up and because of the "adult-related" spam, word verification is back for the time being until these pay-per-spam pricks are gone.

Where have all the cowboys gone?

Sure, I talk music here on Fridays and much like the question about a tree falling in the forest, what would happen if nobody heard it? Truth be told, I don't really care. It was a goal of mine as the year began to stick it out and challenge myself to be confined to one topic on a schedule and so it continues.

Back in the day (the day being 2000) I used to subscribe to the newly-minted digital cable (remember, I lived in rural southern Minnesota, SPAMTown USA to be specific). It was something new and I picked it up cheap as a new subscriber. It featured channels such as IFC, Sundance and, my favorite, MTV2. But the story starts long before this time.

I was first exposed to M2 (as it was originally known) in high school during an assignment for my independent study class. I was asked to scan the satellites (the school had one of those enormous 8 foot relics) and catalog the channels I came across. Sure, it was busy work for a do-nothing type class but I was curious and forged ahead with it.

As I came across the still-new M2, I took notice. I loved music then as much as I still do and actively sought out anything new and different that wasn't being force-fed to us southern Minnesota high schoolers. As I graded papers and worked on other projects in the teacher's office, I had my new friend -- M2 -- on in the background. I'd glance up if something tweaked my ears and I found plenty of new and different music through that channel.

Little did I know that we would be reunited in 2000 as I became a digital cable subscriber. MTV2 was a novelty -- they played music videos and for a rural area, it was a fantastic way to discover new tunes. Sure, it was during the heyday of Napster but MTV2 was a passive way of discovery and that channel spurred me to buy even more CDs.

Soon, though, my introductory offer and its relatively cheap price expired. I parted ways after a year with my new old friend. Sure, we were reunited some time later but, as friendships do, my friend had changed. Hip-hop was now dominating the revamped channel. We began to drift apart.

The rift continued as I moved away from the city which gave me my first taste of digital cable as well as MTV2. I cut costs and for the two years that I was a suburban apartment dweller, I did without cable all together. The apartment complex I called home, though, had a rooftop antenna which picked all of the Twin Cities stations including, wait for it, MTV2 which was on a former outlet of "The Box" music video channel.

I watched it from time to time and saw just how much further it had declined. My old friend, it seemed, had fallen in with a bad crowd. A crowd that worshiped hip-hop and seemed to be distancing itself from the 'person' it had once been.

I was glad to move again. This time we ponied up for cable but seeing what had become of my old friend, MTV2, the digital tier wasn't worth the extra cost. We watched, though, as my old friend reinvented itself once again during halftime of the Superbowl a couple years back. It was sad to see the my old friend had lost its core values. Gone was its trusty and once innovative foundation of music videos not seen on its big brother's airwaves.




In their place were 'lifestyle' shows geared towards young males, recycled materials from the channel's big brother and it seemed obvious that the younger sibling would follow in the footsteps of the elder MTV.

As I perused the Wikipedia article, it seemed that I was correct. Maybe I ought to trade in the insanely expensive software package I earn my living with and get myself a crystal ball.

At least there are a few memories which I shared with you in the above video and the following one -- one of my favorite songs from the past decade.

New greasy fair food, oil your home's hinges

It's August in Minnesota and that means the "dog days" of summer. I haven't seen many dogs but I'll roll with that assumption until someone tells me different. And if it's August in Minnesota that means Fair season. And if it's fair season, that means it's almost time for the great Minnesota get-together -- the Minnesota State Fair.

I am not too familiar with other state fairs outside of the pansy-ass weeklong event that Iowa calls its state fair but ours is ten days so suck on that Iowa. Go back to washing your hogs and harvesting your corn. Not that Minnesotans don't do that but we have other claims to fame such as large statues of Paul Bunyan, a huge ball of twine and a museum dedicated entirely to SPAM. That's right, a meat-like product that ironically ties in to the Minnesota State Fair.

If I'm not overlooking something, I believe that the latest bastardization of somewhat-stomachable food (SPAM), is an "ALL NEW TASTY TREAT" at this year's Minnesota State Fair. But the tasty treat, though, may turn your stomach once I reveal it.

Hold on.

Here it comes.

SPAM Curds.

That's right, a style normally reserved for cheese has now crossed over and had a greasy little love child with Hawaii's favorite canned luncheon "meat".

The chunks of SPAM are coated with cheese, battered and fried. Guaranteed to make greasy sweat roll out of your pores as you wade through the sea of crazies, creepies, weirdos and me. I don't think that the latest fired fair food will be a huge hit but this is, after all, the same fair that brought us fried Snicker's bars on a stick so I wouldn't rule anything out.

Would you try it? What's the most bizarre fair-type food you've encountered and you can't say Scotch Eggs because we've got those. Let a guy know, I think we'll make a trip to the fair again this year and expand our waistlines a touch more.