Monday, August 28, 2000
This is a story about survivors.
No, it is not about the gameshow/psychodrama that was recently portrayed on CBS, where neurosis is a developmental skill highly valued by artificially created tribal groups.
[Read the Rest]
"Where Fillmore County News Comes First"
Online Edition
Friday, May 24th, 2013
Volume ∞ Issue ∞
- 11:44:26, May 21st 2013 - airmaxs52274 - Have you ever thought about adding a little bit more than just your a ... [Read More]
- 5:56:33, May 18th 2013 - modgudur - I guess the child is anti-gun control since Obama went to all that trouble ... [Read More]
- 9:27:41, May 16th 2013 - caal girl - Nice outfit on you. I loved some of the dresses but am holding my breath ... [Read More]
- 2:03:34, May 14th 2013 - - Thanks for sharing the trip with us! ... [Read More]
- 4:12:01, May 9th 2013 - Amanda Ziebell - Wow! Thanks to the Fillmore County Journal for this kind story. For a ... [Read More]
- 11:47:30, May 7th 2013 - EW - ramble.....ramble.....ramble..... ... [Read More]
- 10:25:25, May 7th 2013 - Thunder6 - Great article! I love to see the Youth of Fillmore County receiveing acco ... [Read More]
- 6:52:10, May 6th 2013 - Jason Sethre, Publisher of Fillmore County Journal & Olmsted County Journal - Maryh, ... [Read More]
- 7:29:56, May 5th 2013 - maryh - Where are OCJ's available for pickup...other than at the new office? ... [Read More]
- 2:41:47, May 3rd 2013 - Remark1976 - Mrs. Buckbee, I just looked up Senate File 796 and in it there are said p ... [Read More]
30
Should consumers have to pay sales tax on online purchases?
Lord of the Dance
Comments
Monday, August 28, 2000
My wife told me that I had won first prize and was chosen to be her escort for her all-school reunion last weekend. I actually looked forward to the event, especially when it was her reunion and not mine. It was unlikely that I would be the one straining through uncooperative bifocals to read nametags of people who seemed to know me well. My place was to sit quietly and smile while everyone else tried to carry on meaningful conversations over the noise of a hundred other such conversations. It was a chance for me to overeat, observe people, and relax in the knowledge that nobody there knew me or had the time to try.
Among the most interesting characters in the room was the young man they hired to put on the dance. He was a disc jockey who felt that he had to do his own singing. I was skeptical at first that this act was going to fill the last four hours of the evening in a productive manner. His Elvis impersonations had me thinking, "Why is it always Elvis? Why not a Perry Como or Bing Crosby impersonator?" Not that I care about them all that much, but it would be different.
The dance started in name only. The disc jockey sang a couple numbers and pleaded with people to come and dance. I had to give him credit that he did not get discouraged and sit down. He kept trying and finally played a couple slow numbers that filled the dance floor with couples who had been waiting for that type of music. After two slow songs, he switched to a faster beat that swept the floor completely clear of dancers. They never returned in such numbers for the rest of the evening.
I tried to do my part. My dancing skills are crude. I have two feet, one left and one right, that have managed to do almost everything I have ever asked them to do. However, when it comes to dancing, I think my problem is that I am musically impaired. To me, it seems that most of the songs have exactly the same rhythm and if that rhythm is the least bit subtle, I am lost. With coaching from my musical and graceful wife, I can eventually get my feet going in some semblance of a dance. The waltz, foxtrot, and swing always receive a completely new interpretation when I am trying to do them.
Those who tried to educate me early in life are not to blame for my dance ineptitude. Our country school was visited once a week by a roving music teacher who did what she could to get us up to speed in that department. At her bidding, we shoved our desks t .....
[Read the Rest]
My wife told me that I had won first prize and was chosen to be her escort for her all-school reunion last weekend. I actually looked forward to the event, especially when it was her reunion and not mine. It was unlikely that I would be the one straining through uncooperative bifocals to read nametags of people who seemed to know me well. My place was to sit quietly and smile while everyone else tried to carry on meaningful conversations over the noise of a hundred other such conversations. It was a chance for me to overeat, observe people, and relax in the knowledge that nobody there knew me or had the time to try.
Among the most interesting characters in the room was the young man they hired to put on the dance. He was a disc jockey who felt that he had to do his own singing. I was skeptical at first that this act was going to fill the last four hours of the evening in a productive manner. His Elvis impersonations had me thinking, "Why is it always Elvis? Why not a Perry Como or Bing Crosby impersonator?" Not that I care about them all that much, but it would be different.
The dance started in name only. The disc jockey sang a couple numbers and pleaded with people to come and dance. I had to give him credit that he did not get discouraged and sit down. He kept trying and finally played a couple slow numbers that filled the dance floor with couples who had been waiting for that type of music. After two slow songs, he switched to a faster beat that swept the floor completely clear of dancers. They never returned in such numbers for the rest of the evening.
I tried to do my part. My dancing skills are crude. I have two feet, one left and one right, that have managed to do almost everything I have ever asked them to do. However, when it comes to dancing, I think my problem is that I am musically impaired. To me, it seems that most of the songs have exactly the same rhythm and if that rhythm is the least bit subtle, I am lost. With coaching from my musical and graceful wife, I can eventually get my feet going in some semblance of a dance. The waltz, foxtrot, and swing always receive a completely new interpretation when I am trying to do them.
Those who tried to educate me early in life are not to blame for my dance ineptitude. Our country school was visited once a week by a roving music teacher who did what she could to get us up to speed in that department. At her bidding, we shoved our desks t .....
[Read the Rest]
The Country Squire
It seems as though it was yesterday but it has been al-most ten years since I retired. As a matter of fact, I can barely remember what it was that I did for a living. I can remember how I well I prepared for my retirement. I bought books on the birds
.....
[Read the Rest]
[Read the Rest]
Journal Profile # 78
Name: Tyler Benson
Home: Rushford
Age: 15
Profession: I am a ninth grade student at Rushford-Peterson
Family: Dad, Mom, & Sister
Hero: My Mom, Dad and Uncle Ron
Hobby: I like goi .....
[Read the Rest]
Home: Rushford
Age: 15
Profession: I am a ninth grade student at Rushford-Peterson
Family: Dad, Mom, & Sister
Hero: My Mom, Dad and Uncle Ron
Hobby: I like goi .....
[Read the Rest]
Ground Cherry Pie
1 cup husked ground cherries
1 unbaked pie shell
2 eggs
1/8 teaspoon salt
2/3 cup sugar
1 tablespoon flour
1 cup milk
1 teaspoon vanilla
• Fill pastry shell with cherries. Beat eggs with salt. Add sugar and flour, then milk .....
[Read the Rest]
1 unbaked pie shell
2 eggs
1/8 teaspoon salt
2/3 cup sugar
1 tablespoon flour
1 cup milk
1 teaspoon vanilla
• Fill pastry shell with cherries. Beat eggs with salt. Add sugar and flour, then milk .....
[Read the Rest]
Monday, August 28, 2000
To the Editor,
Earlier this spring during the course of the controversy over the Reiland’s plan to expand their dairy operation, I was disappointed to hear one of our legislators refer to some environmentalists as “tree huggers” and “bunny lo .....
[Read the Rest]
Earlier this spring during the course of the controversy over the Reiland’s plan to expand their dairy operation, I was disappointed to hear one of our legislators refer to some environmentalists as “tree huggers” and “bunny lo .....
[Read the Rest]
