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The Quest for Caulk


Fri, Oct 12th, 2001
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Monday, Octovber 8, 2001

The house sprung a leak. I needed some caulk to plug the hole to keep the house from filling with water and sinking. Talk about the road paved with good intentions.

I knew I had some caulk in the garage. It was likely lying somewhere on my tool bench. I decided I was going to have to dig for it. That was my first mistake. At the top of the heap on the tool bench were two pounds of grass seed balled up in a fifty-pound feed sack. I shuffled that aside. Someone had thrown a green blanket on top of my toolboxes. I threw the blanket in with the camping equipment. I found the open box where my caulk should have been. It was empty. I found my oldest and favorite toolbox. It had been a while since I had seen this relic of times past so I started to look through it. That was another mistake.

I donít possess many things that I consider valuable and I certainly wasnít going to find any of them here. How could I ever have collected this much junk? There was half a spark plug wire with a used spark plug to go with it. There was an orange washer with a square hole in the middle, the use of which escapes me. There were several washers worn as thin as a piece of typing paper. I was curious about the prior use of a huge washer that would fit over my hand. I also wondered what I could have been thinking when I saved several square half-inch nuts with their threads gone and oval holes worn through the centers. When I was a kid we tied worn hardware like that on the ends of our fishing lines when we practiced casting. You could really get the distance with something that heavy on the line, especially if you were aiming for your brother.

I found the Pencil Bone Yard where shop pencils go to die. They were all dull and dirty. The ones that I had tried to sharpen with one of my dull jackknives were broken. The ones that were not broken looked as if rats with a graphite craving had gnawed them. It is no wonder I have gotten into the habit of using nails to scratch a line or mark a point for drilling. At least nails are generally sharp at one end, which is more than can be said for my pencils.

Pound for pound the most useless items that I found in my toolbox were three odd-size bumper hitch balls. I donít know where they came from or for what purpose they were meant. There are already two different size hitch balls attached to the bumper of my pickup. One of them is the right size for my trailer. The other I canít r .....
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Contemporary Bunkshooters

Fri, Oct 12th, 2001
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Monday, October 1, 2001

The Rev. Jerry Falwell is what poet Carl Sandburg would call a bunkshooter. Pat Robertson is one too.

Full-flushing, bonafide bunkshooters. Conjurers, magicians, illusionists, pulling the wool over many peopleí ..... 
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Fri, Oct 12th, 2001
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Fri, Oct 12th, 2001
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Fri, Oct 12th, 2001
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Fri, Oct 12th, 2001
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Submit a Letter to the Editorhere

Fri, Oct 12th, 2001
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To the Editor,
Monday, September 17, 2001

To the Editor,

It is widely known that Osama Bin Laden and other Arab terrorists perceive the US as having a pro-Israel bias. Too few Americans know that from 1947-1997, the US poured ..... 
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Vernon H. Vigeland

Fri, Oct 12th, 2001
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Vernon H. Vigeland, 77, of LaCrosse, Wis., formerly of Mabel, Minn. died March 12, 2001 at the Green Lea Manor Nursing Home in Mabel where he had resided for only a week.

Vernon was born September 5, 1923 in Preble Township, Fillmore County, M ..... 
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Gladys Judith Swain

Fri, Oct 12th, 2001
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Gladys Judith Swain, 93, of Rushford, a homemaker, died March 7, 2001 at her home.

Gladys Judith Williams was born May 15, 1907, on the Humble farm at Highland Prairie, moved to North Dakota with her family when she was 3 months old and retu ..... 
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