






I had a dream last night where everybody around me was drinking beer for breakfast. And I thought. I want to do that. I want to drink beer for breakfast.
All I wanna do is drink beer for breakfast
All I wanna eat is them barbeque chips
All I want is someone to just try and protect us
You can try but never wanna try and defect us
I telling you I am through
Mama’s baby boy is a bum
All I wanna do is stay in this life
All I wanna pick is your nose, honey, hi
Sweet little corny you’ve gotta be husky
I am dreaming of a white Christmas
Honey where I’m from
Mama’s baby boy is a bum
Honey where I’m from
Halle-fucking-lujah
I’m a bum
Baby boy’s a bum
Baby boy’s a bum
Baby boy’s a bum
All I wanna do is drink beer for breakfast
—- The Replacements
Actually it really isn’t that odd. All the way up until the 17th century, Northern Europeans drank beer at every meal. It was safer than drinking water and more nutritious. Apparently archeologists have discovered evidence of beer making in Mesopotamia dating back 4000 years. Anyway, it’s been around a while. I remember reading about pregnant women in medieval times drinking beer for breakfast. It was compared to a loaf of bread.
So I could just have a slice of “bread” for breakfast.
When you look up Beer for Breakfast on the internet you get all kinds of recipes that have beer in them. Beer muffins and stuff like that. What for? Just pop a brew instead. A lot less trouble.

I had a birthday recently and decided to take myself to go see “Barbie”. I was hoping for some fun escapism. Well… it was entertaining but it was also a story of a major existential crisis. So I’m conflicted. Not sure I liked it. But Ryan Gosling was excellent as Ken.
I can be conflicted about birthdays in general. Some good, some bad. Some have associations I don’t care for. Some happy occasions.
My mother writes about the menu for my second birthday: hunks of cheese, slices of bananas with peanut butter dabs all on a toothpick, tiny buns filled with ground spam, graham crackers with honey butter, and then cupcakes with a candle on each, coffee and Koolade.
Sounds like an exotic ‘50s meal, doesn’t it?

My fifth birthday was memorable because the family had just survived a plane crash and landed at our final destination two weeks late – on my birthday. Another memorable one was in Lagos, Nigeria when my mother and I marked the occasion by opening a small tinned chocolate cake. They probably don’t make such a thing anymore…
In 1999, the last year of the millennium, I spent my birthday in France.
We stayed with friends in the suburbs who had a house and small yard and a son our son, Noah’s age. They were about a ten minute walk from the train in a nice little village with a pretty chateau. The first day was spent getting our new visas organized and trying to do some shopping. On Saturday we wandered around the left bank and then the four adults went out to dinner at a very nice kind of ‘new’ French restaurant. It was my birthday so we had champagne and wine and great food. Sunday was the boat ride on the Seine with the boys and then a walk through the Tuileries garden where there just happened to be some rides and of course Noah had to go on them.
We rented a car and on Tuesday left for Metz and the eclipse. Metz is a very pretty town right on the river. We scoped out the area on Tuesday and early Wednesday morning we headed out with the telescope, video camera and other cameras. We set up our camp in the middle of the Esplanade which is a nice park right by the river. The town had organized a big festival around the eclipse and so there were parades, music, etc. going on all day long. It was cloudy. During the first half of the eclipse we were able to see it off and on. But about 20 minutes before total eclipse it started to rain. We could tell when the total was, though, because it was completely dark. It was really cool. All the flowers closed up and all the lights came on and it was really night. Then during the second half it cleared up a bit and we were able to see more. Noah kept looking at the “moon” through his glasses. Nicholas got some good shots through his telescope. And I got a new umbrella. When we got back to Paris our friends who had gone 25 minutes north of Paris on the train said they had seen the whole thing perfectly.


From Metz we drove into Lorraine and the Vosges area. We stopped at the Haut Konningburg castle which is a huge restored castle on top of a mountain in the middle of the forest. You can see forever from it. It is really cool with a moat and drawbridge and inner yard. It would be very hard to penetrate it.
From there we wound our way around down to La Bresse which is in the heart of a big ski area and lots of mountains and forest. Really beautiful. Our hotel was very nice with a good restaurant. We drove all around the area and went hiking around a glacial pool where Noah spent the better part of an hour throwing rocks into it.

On Sunday (the day before Noah’s birthday) we took the boys to the Bois de Bologne to the big amusement park there and I think they went on about 20 rides. They had a lot of fun.

Our last day in Paris we had lunch up at Montmartre with all the tourists in town. It was kind of fun.


This week was all about art and food. The Seward Cafe opened in 1974, and was a neighborhood institution when I first visited in 1983. We used to go spend our Sunday mornings there reading the paper and devouring delicious buckwheat pancakes and creative egg concoctions. It is a cooperative with an anarchist bent. You fill out your own orders, get your own water and coffee, pick up your order at the window, and bus your own dishes. Everybody working together. Sometimes there is music in the evening and there is always art on the walls. This week the artist was Mollierae and her art was going for $600 and up. These are a couple that I liked. (click for larger image).


And of course, there was also creative bathroom art.

From there we headed over to the Walker Art Museum which was exhibiting the works of Pacita Abad. We were all impressed with her work. The brochure describes her as “Philippine-born artist, globally inspired masks, portrayals of immigrant life, and dazzling underwater scenes”. The walls were covered in huge tapestries. Some were celebratory and made me happy.

Some were disturbing and powerful. Some were just fun. She traveled and lived all over the world and immigrated to the USA, so her art is multicultural. She also saw the USA through the immigrant lens which was not always pretty. One powerful tapestry was called Flight to Freedom from a series called Cambodian Refugee.

Another one that struck me was called “I Thought the Streets Were Paved With Gold”. Apparently a quote she came across on a trip to Ellis Island inspired this work: “I came to America because I heard the streets were paved with gold. When I got here, I found out three things: First, the streets weren’t paved with gold; second, they weren’t paved at all; and third, I was expected to pave them.” I have come across several people in my own travels who believed the streets of the United States were paved with gold. I tried to tell them this was far from true, but they held on to their image.

I found this octopus especially whimsical —

You can see Pacita Abad’s work at:
Walker Art Center, Minneapolis: April 15–September 3, 2023
San Francisco Museum of Modern Art: October 21, 2023–January 28, 2024
MoMA PS1, New York: April 4–September 2, 2024
Art Gallery of Ontario, Toronto: October 12, 2024–January 19, 2025
Afterwards, we went for a drive around the lakes taking in the natural beauty of the day and ended up at a burger joint. A multicultural, multi eventful, all American day….

There has been a lot of talk about Artificial Intelligence lately. I’m sure it has been in use for a long time but it is now going more mainstream. I spoke to a woman recently who said she uses it regularly to make her work emails better. So I looked into it a bit and discovered it is being used all over the place. AI self published books on Amazon. So I thought – why not AI blog? I asked it to write a paragraph on third culture kids. Then I asked it to write a short story about it. And a poem.
They are actually pretty good in a mainstream, very positive, very Disney kind of way. The poem actually made me laugh –
“Oh, Third Culture Kid, a soul so bright,
You’re a constellation in the night,
Your journey shapes a tale to tell,
Of how diverse hearts together swell.”
Obviously not my style but interesting. I can see why it is popular. Why it will rule the world. Why we will become the robots. Is it the end of civilization as we know it? What do you think?
Write a paragraph about Third Culture Kids
Third Culture Kids (TCKs) are a unique and fascinating group of individuals who have spent a significant part of their developmental years living in cultures different from their parents’ or their passport country’s culture. As a result of this cross-cultural upbringing, TCKs often acquire a distinct identity that combines elements from multiple cultures, creating a “third culture” of their own. These global nomads are skilled at navigating diverse environments, adapting quickly to new situations, and embracing diversity with an open mind. While their upbringing offers enriching experiences and a broader worldview, it can also bring challenges in terms of forming lasting connections and a sense of belonging. Nevertheless, the resilience and cultural competence that TCKs develop make them invaluable assets in our increasingly interconnected and globalized world.
Write a short story about this
Title: Roots of the World
Once upon a time, in a small, bustling town, there lived a young girl named Maya. Her parents were diplomats, and as a result, she had spent her childhood traveling from one country to another. Maya had grown accustomed to saying goodbye to friends and embracing new cultures with each move, and she had become what was known as a Third Culture Kid.
At the age of ten, Maya found herself in a picturesque village nestled among the Swiss Alps. As she explored her new surroundings, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of wonder and excitement. The village was filled with colorful houses, friendly faces, and enchanting traditions she had never experienced before.
Despite her natural adaptability, Maya sometimes felt a sense of longing for a place she could call her own—a place where her roots could grow deep. Nevertheless, she embraced each day, eager to learn about the world from different perspectives.
One day, while wandering through the local market, Maya stumbled upon a quaint antique shop run by an elderly woman named Agnes. Intrigued by the unique artifacts on display, Maya struck up a conversation with Agnes. They quickly discovered that they both had a shared love for adventure and exploration.
As the weeks passed, Maya and Agnes developed a deep bond, akin to a grandmother and granddaughter. Agnes had lived her entire life in the village and was enchanted by Maya’s stories of far-off lands and diverse cultures. She saw in Maya the spirit of a true adventurer, someone who cherished the beauty of each unique place she encountered.
One snowy winter evening, as they sat by the crackling fireplace, Agnes shared a heartfelt story about her own youthful dreams of traveling the world. Fate had tied her to the village, but she found immense joy in living vicariously through Maya’s adventures.
Moved by Agnes’ story, Maya realized that she didn’t need to have a single, fixed place to call home. She understood that her experiences and the connections she made with people around the world had become the roots that anchored her to the essence of humanity.
As the years passed, Maya continued to explore new countries, gaining wisdom and insight along the way. She would visit Agnes whenever she returned to the Swiss village, and their friendship remained as strong as ever. Maya cherished her upbringing as a Third Culture Kid, embracing her unique identity with pride.
In time, Maya became a renowned journalist, using her understanding of diverse cultures to bridge gaps and promote understanding worldwide. She wrote about the beauty of unity in diversity and the importance of embracing one’s own roots while celebrating the roots of others.
Maya’s story resonated with people from all walks of life, inspiring them to be more accepting, empathetic, and curious about the world around them. And as she continued her journey, she knew that her heart was connected to all the places she had been, for they were the roots of the world that made her who she was—a true Third Culture Kid.
Write a poem about this
In a world of wanderers, a soul takes flight,
A Third Culture Kid, in the vibrant night,
With roots that span the globe’s embrace,
In each new land, a sacred space.
From distant shores to mountains grand,
They roam with wonder, hand in hand,
Their heartstrings tied to many lands,
A tapestry woven by diverse hands.
Through bustling streets and tranquil dells,
They gather stories that their heart tells,
From desert dunes to oceans blue,
They find the beauty in what’s new.
They bear no burden of fixed abode,
For in their heart, the world’s bestowed,
A mosaic of cultures, rich and deep,
A treasure trove they’ll forever keep.
In every smile, a tale unfolds,
Of friendships formed and dreams that hold,
A legacy built on bonds so rare,
In lands they’ve loved, they’ve left their care.
They know that home’s not just one place,
But rather, a feeling they embrace,
In every corner of this earth,
They find a sense of joy and mirth.
For in their soul, they’ve come to see,
The unity in humanity,
A bridge between the worlds they stand,
A beacon shining through the land.
Oh, Third Culture Kid, a soul so bright,
You’re a constellation in the night,
Your journey shapes a tale to tell,
Of how diverse hearts together swell.
Embrace your roots, both near and far,
For in their dance, you’ll find your star,
In every culture’s tender grace,
You’ll weave a world, a boundless space.

The Superior Hiking Trail runs 300 miles along the ridge line above Lake Superior from the southern edge of the lake to the Canadian border. The trail is managed by the Superior Hiking Trail Association (SHTA), located in Two Harbors, Minnesota. It can be accessed along the way from about 50 trailheads. Besides the Superior Hiking Trail there are several State Parks and the Superior National Forest where hiking trails abound.
The Superior National Forest is known for the million-acre remote Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness bordering on Canada.
We hiked along a small portion of the SHT, drove along the Gunflint Trail in the Superior National Forest, and explored the George Crosby Manitou State Park. The Crosby Manitou is a backpack only park with primitive campsites. Other parks in the area include Cascade River State Park, Temperance River State Park, Tettegouche State Park, Gooseberry Falls State Park, the Finland State Forest, and Judge C.R. Magney State Park.
The first day we took a hike along a part of the SHT and at one point came to a spot where a wooden bridge crossed a gulch. I sat down on the steps to rest for a bit and all of a sudden this blur of fur came running at my feet, bumped into them, ran the opposite direction, scrambled behind me and up the post of the bridge. By this time I was up on my feet, freaking out after having let out a bit of a scream. I looked up and saw it was a ground squirrel. He then proceeded to scold me by shrieking at me in a high pitched voice. I must have been blocking access to his stash. My companion was laughing his head off. Ahh… life in nature….













I needed a new couch.
I gave my old one away.
I found the perfect couch.
Super comfortable.
Perfect color.
Nice size.
I fell in love with it.
I ordered it.
I paid for it.
I had to wait two weeks for delivery.
It didn’t fit in the elevator.
Too big.
I know better than to fall in love with anything.
I usually don’t care that much.
But it was a really nice couch.
So back to square one.
And believe me,
there are not very many comfortable couches.
There aren’t even
very many nice looking ones.
And I know I won’t see that color again.
Unless
I want to pay 12,000 dollars
which I don’t.
I took a quiz
on one furniture store website.
It told me my style is
Contemporary Chic.
But then it didn’t give me any examples
or show me any possibilities.
What is that about?
They did send me a $25 off coupon though…

This is the picture they showed of what
Contemporary Chic looks like but
it doesn’t exist on their website.
I don’t really like it that much.
This is my old couch
in its new home.

So after sitting on many sofas,
I found this one.
It isn’t perfect but I got a
red chair to go with it.
And it is comfortable.

Now I have to wait another
two weeks for it to show up.

Nine year ago I spent an idyllic week in a villa on Lake Como in Italy. It was one of the most beautiful places I had ever seen. It was transformational. This week Facebook keeps digging up photos of that week to show me in my “memories”. How thoughtful of them. (??) Anyway, I ended up picking out a few.
We had been to our school reunion in Lugano, Switzerland and five of us decided to extend the trip by renting a villa in Lezzeno, right on the lake. We took the bus to Bellagio. We rented a boat and cruised up and down the lake hovering at George Clooney’s place and the Villa D’Este hotel where people pay $1,500 to stay. We swung by the Villa del Balbianello where they filmed Star Wars. And watched sea planes land outside Richard Branson’s villa. We rode up the Funivia to Pigra and took in the view. A local chef fed us dinner. It was perfect.















I even made an attempt to copy that last photo in needlepoint form. The flowers surrounding the villa really impressed me.

An unforgettable time.
