Old words

Meetia Tasia Poo Hoo! What the heck is that. Well, my Dad made that one up and it was a response to a question or a statement. For example, I might say at the dinner table that I really enjoyed the meal my mother prepared. My Dad would respond with Meetia Tasia Poo Hoo, interpreted Me Too!

Before the days of radio young person living in remote parts of our country had to find a means of amusement. My Dad and his brothers used the interplay of words creating somewhat nonsensical phrases that stood for simple responses. Each of the three boys were experts at spoonerisms and made games out of saying things then having the others guess what they had said. It took clever minds to rearrange words, syllables and emphasis to misstate the obvious. I was raised in such as house as were my brothers and sisters and to this day each of us carry some capability to do what my father and our uncles did.

I don't hear people play with words anymore. I don't hear people develop creativity by making games out of such antics. It seems to me we've lost a little something. Forshum, forshum.

Have a good day

Lessons we learn from out children

Through the years I think I've got a bit of a reputation for being a talker. Seems like if a void in the conversation occurs I will rush to fill it in. However, I also listen and think about what people say. I've learned a lot through the years from many people I've come in contact with. I can say I think I've grown to be a better person for the lessons I've learned from others.

My daughter Kristi taught me a lesson many years ago. Kristi took years of piano lessons and I always thought was quite accomplished. I had thoughts that some day she would be quite a performance musician. Early in her years, say 9th grade she participated in music festivals in Wisconsin. It got to a point that both she and our younger daughter Jenny participated and I really got to looking forward to those times. We would go to Green Bay where the competition for our region of Wisconsin was held and spend the day among kids, listening to their talent, listening to there talk, and have some family time that to me was quite important.

The first competition we went to Kristi was the sole family competitor, Jenny was too young. I became concerned that Kristi was focused on doing so well that if she didn't score at the highest level her spirit might be crushed. Kristi can tend to be a perfectionist and I think has lead to disappointments in her own capability that can plague all of us. As we were riding to Green Bay I began talking about the fact that she had worked hard in developing her performance, put a lot of time into practice, but even after all that work the possibility existed that she may score less than outstanding. I was trying to point out that much of the pleasure is in the competition not only in winning.

Kristi mulled my parental words of wisdom and then said from her position in the back seat, "Dad, I didn't practice all this time, or work this hard for second place, if I get a second place I'll deal with it then." Ah, the lessons we learn. Sometimes children are wiser than we give think. I always remember that little interchange, I hope I became a little bit more understanding and I know my daughter grew quite mature in my eyes that day.

Since that time I've come to believe through observation that competition is at the very root of all human behavior. We temper it, sometimes we ignore competition, but in the final analysis everything I can think of in the natural world or that of populated by the human race finds its roots in competition. Her in the wisdom of a 14 year old I found the understanding that trying is important, focus on the goal and deal with the outcome later. Thanks for the lesson Kris!

Her kids harrassed my Grandmother

My father told me a story worth passing on. My dad, his brothers and Mother moved from Grand Marais, MI to Munising via fishing tug back in 1913. Munising was not very old, I believe the town was incorporated in 1897. I am sure some buildings and people lived there earlier than that, but my Family moved to Munising just sixteen years after its incorporation.

I do not know all of the addresses they lived at, but I do know that my Grandmother had the task of raising three young, energetic, witty, fun living boys. My dad and my uncles were sharp, all the days that I knew them they had a way with words, I am sure they provided my Grandmother with laughter and amusement during their younger years.

One day my Uncle Earl walked through a room my Grandmother was in and mused to himself, out loud, "hmmmm, is it is souls or am souls." Then he would pass on into another room without a sound leaving my Grandmother pondering what he was up to. Then a while later another visit to Grandma's domain and another, "is it is souls or am souls?" Then he would leave the room. This went on for several hours. I am sure my Grandmother's curiosity was building. along with her urge to provide him with the answer. Finally on one more trip through the room Uncle Earl said "is it is souls, or am souls?" Of course my Dad and Uncle Cecil were waiting nearby to hear the outcome of this question. Finally my Grandmother blurted out, "is is are souls." Whereupon she realized she had just been had, grabbed a broom and chased all three boys from the house in punishment for their prank. My Dad said that he paused and turned around to look back just in time to see my Grandmother lean back against the door, chin on the broom handle and laugh herself to tears. What a time it must've been in that household so long ago. I would've like to have seen the action.