Enemy Thy Name is "River City Days"

From the first year we moved to Chaska I have hated the three days of the year known as "River City Days". It is a weekend long "celebration" that takes place in the park 2 blocks from my house. I am not sure what it celebrates, but it is mostly like a small, tiny, itsy, bitsy, fair. There is food, games, things to buy, crafts to buy, and...no that's it. Oh wait, there is music. LOTS of music. Lots of LOUD music. Until MIDNIGHT. TWO BLOCKS FROM MY HOUSE. It starts at about 4pm on Friday night, then the music plays til midnight, then at 6 am on Saturday they are at it again on the microphone announcing for a race! At 9am Saturday they are announcing the winners of the race and the noise on Saturday does not stop until around midnight. Only to pick up again on Sunday.
When I have to work at 7am on these weekends I curse at the stupid Chaska city councilors and board members who think it is an AWESOME idea to play live music in the middle of downtown chaska, right in FRONT of homes and in the middle of a residential area until midnight! That's some great minds for you. I have almost made it through another year of it.

Who Cares About America, I've Got Talent!

I look around at people that I know, friends, family, co-workers and I see some of their talents so clearly defined. I have a cousin that can sing and play 4 or 5 instruments. My dad's talent was art, I have several friends who a writers, and others who are crafty. Yet when I try to think of a talent that I possess I have always had trouble thinking of something that I am good at, something that rises above the other skills I possess to be a TALENT.
I am an okay writer. I don't play any instruments. I am not able to draw. I don't have a green thumb. I have no real artistic skills, no one area where I excel beyond average. Except when it comes to listening and understanding people. I have always been good at empathizing, with people and understanding people. That seems to be my true talent.

Mr. Moss

I am attending a funeral today for a most amazing man. His name is Cary Moss. I worked with him for the past 7 years at Barnes and Noble. I sold books, he sold knowledge. I have never liked funerals, who really does, but this funeral I am dreading like no other I have attended. I spent all of yesterday sleeping instead so I wouldn't have to think about going. Today I find myself with little courage to get out of bed. I know the only thing that will get me dressed and to the chapel is my respect for the man that Mr. Moss was, and the fact that he never let anything stop him from achieving what he wanted to do, not even in the end.
I will never forget the sound of Cary's voice, his laughter, stories, or the unbending support he gave to those he considered his friends and colleague.