Ah, it’s spring! Time for weddings! I still find myself fortunate enough to attend about as many weddings as funerals, but there is one thing about the wedding scene that makes my blood boil: idiot disk jockeys!

Let’s set the scene. We are at the wedding reception. There is a head table for the bride, groom, bride’s maids and groomsmen. Seated at the other tables are the family of the bride and groom and other wedding guests. There is a beautiful wedding cake. There is a small dance floor. And, over in the corner is the idiot “DJ” with his humongous sound system and his library of music.

There are obligatory announcements. The bride and groom cut the wedding cake. Toasts are made from the table and from the audience. Things are going well! The DJ plays a slow, romantic song and the bride and groom dance their “first dance.” Another slow song follows and the bride dances with her father, while the audience nostalgically watches.

Then, the DJ plays a “fast” song. After some hesitation, about 8 couples go out and “gyrate” on the dance floor, 6 of whom are under 26 and two of whom are in their mid 40’s and still think they are “hip”. Then the DJ plays three more “fast” songs, and by the time he’s played his fourth straight “fast” song, there is no one left on the dance floor. The “over 40” crowd isn’t up for any more fast songs. Now the DJ is entertaining himself with his favorite tunes, which makes him very happy. After all, what’s better than getting paid $800 to listen to your favorite music?

After playing 4 straight “fast” songs, the DJ does something really revolutionary; he plays a slow song. 35 couples from all age groups virtually knock each other down heading out to the dance floor! The “over 40 crowd” is well represented, but there are young couples as well. They really enjoy the slow dance. For the first time all night, the dance floor is crowded.

Let’s review. Four consecutive fast songs produce an empty dance floor. One slow song produces a crowded dance floor. Perhaps my reasoning is faulty, but I assume that the purpose of the music and the DJ is to entertain the audience, which means attracting the maximum number of dancers. Conditions which cause more people to come to the dance floor should be replicated. Conditions which cause people to leave the dance floor should be minimized. Does this sound reasonable?

Apparently not. After his first slow song, which produces a full dance floor, the DJ pulls the most illogical move imaginable; he plays another “fast” song! People abandon the dance floor like fearful wildebeests. But the DJ still doesn’t get it! He plays 3 or 4 more “fast” songs, while looking at an again empty dance floor. Then, after 20 minutes or so, he throws in another slow song and 40 couples jam the dance floor.

DJ’s must suffer from some sort of cranial “short circuit.” They are completely “anti logic” and “anti market.” They behave in just the opposite way that their customers (dancers) demand. Maybe the DJ thinks that our real purpose for attending the wedding reception was to explore his personal taste in music! After all, this isn’t a wedding reception; it’s an “explore the DJ’s favorite music” party.

I could be wrong in my assumptions. Perhaps DJ’s play so many fast songs and so few slow songs to get rid of the middle aged and older people in the audience so the young people can finally enjoy the party. I can accept this as a legitimate goal later in the evening but why can’t DJ’s let the older folks have at least a few slow songs in the beginning? Can’t we have just a little fun before we’ve got to go home, drink some warm milk and spit our false teeth into a glass?

Amtrak Empire Builder:  Saturday April 18, 2009

1:30 p.m.  I’m standing on the platform of the Belmont EL station, just one stop south of Addison Street where the St. Louis Cardinals will play the Chicago Cubs at 2:40 p.m. today.  However, this day I won’t be heading to the Friendly Confines, but south on the brown line to the Quincy stop, just flour blocks from Chicago’s Union Station.  There will be no stupid cell phone-talking drivers to worry about today; I’m riding the rails all the way home to Winona, Minnesota!

2:03 p.m.  I’m sitting in a spacious seat on The Amtrak Empire Builder, Coach 711 bound from Chicago to Winona and points beyond.  The train is not due to depart until 2:15 p.m. so I’ve got a few minutes to wait.  As I look outside my window I see the Monroe Street drawbridge spanning the Chicago River.  The water is algae-green; not the kind of color that would be inviting for a swim.  The Empire builder sits on its track in a huge tunnel beneath Chicago’s Union station, lying alongside at least seven other trains.  The deep-throated idling sound of the diesels reverberates off the sides of the tunnel, creating a low, hollow vibration.  It is a warm day here and a 25-foot inboard powerboat glides quietly along the river, its occupants wearing light jackets.

2:15 p.m.  We leave exactly on time.  Am I in Europe?  I could have set my watch by this train’s departure.  We roll out of the city, crossing beneath at least fifty bridges, most of which have rusted metal and loose concrete underneath.  Even the Federal Reserve System couldn’t print enough money to patch up this town.  The railroad tracks seldom pass through glamorous places.  I see the Metra shops on my right and a huge auto junkyard on my left.  There are piles of sand and old tires as we head out of the city.  Old multi-story factories and classic two-flat brick homes zoom by as we head west through the city, then north up the lake toward Milwaukee.

2:48 p.m.  As we head north past Glenview we roar past Metra stations in smaller Illinois towns where the houses are modern and vinyl sided.  These towns are full of people who commute two hours each day for the benefit of a smaller mortgage payment.  Later, as we travel northward along Lake Michigan, we pass a “unit” train made up of identical hopper cars.  These 200,000 lb capacity hoppers are now empty, having dumped precious coal mined on the Powder River Range in Wyoming.  That coal will be burned so that 8 million people in metropolitan Chicago will see their lights come on this evening.  The coal-burning plant will also power their appliances, furnaces, air conditioners, and public transit system.  As we pass, the empty coal train again moves westward toward Wyoming to pick up yet another 120 cars of coal.  Coal may not be politically popular right now, but it is the primary fuel used to generate electricity in the United States.  If you think that global warming enthusiasts can make a lot of political noise, wait until you hear the screaming when the lights go out in Chicago, Cleveland, Boston, and New York.

3:38 p.m.  We pull into Milwaukee.  A few more people get on the train.  We give the nicotine addicts a few minutes to indulge so their heads don’t explode.  They will have to wait until we get to Winona before they receive additional relief.  Gosh, I ‘m glad I never started smoking as a kid; it was one of the big advantages of being raised a “Jack Mormon.”

4:59 p.m.  All of a sudden the train stops, seven miles east of Columbus, Wisconsin.  We’re hoping this will be a brief delay.  The conductor announces that there is a grass fire across the tracks just ahead.  The fire department needs to put out the grass fire and the Milwaukee Road track inspector has to certify that there is no damage to the track or ties before we can proceed.  I ask the conductor if this is his first “grass fire” delay.  He answers in the affirmative.

6:22 p.m.  We’re rolling again after an 83 minute delay.  The engineer seems determined to make up time and as I look out on the adjoining highway I can see that we are passing all of the cars.  I figure we’re going about 80 miles per hour.  As we pass through the countryside some of the fields are plowed, but there’s a lot of work to be done before the crops are planted.  We zoom past a little village and there is a barkeeper standing outside talking to some customers in the parking lot.  Do the words “beer belly” mean anything to you?

7:12 p.m.  We arrive at the Wisconsin Dells.  In 45 days the population of this is placid little town will quadruple when the water parks open.  They’re hoping for a big summer, without the “R” word.

7:51 p.m.  We arrive in Tomah, Wisconsin.  Problem is; this was our exact scheduled arrival time in Winona, so the grass fire has cost us an on-time arrival.  We’ll see how much of the 83 minute delay our engineer makes up once we hit Winona.  I call my wife in Winona to tell her I’ll be late.  She informs me that Aramis Ramirez hit an 11th inning walk-off homer at Wrigley Field this afternoon, giving the Cubs a 7-5 victory over the St. Louis Cardinals.  Let’s see; warm weather, Saturday night, Cubs win.  Wrigleyville will be crazy-nuts tonight.

8:28 p.m.  We pull into La Crosse, our last stop in the state of Wisconsin.  In the darkness we speed along the west shore of the Mississippi, noticing the occasional blinking lights on the channel markers.  The river is smooth as glass.  Our engineer is slowly making up time.

8:54 p.m.  The conductor announces Winona as the next stop.  As we enter the city limits, I see the east end industrial park and pay particular attention to a tan, steel-sided manufacturing building.  I’ve passed hundreds of similar buildings on this trip.  I don’t know what they manufacture in those buildings, nor do I know the people who work in them, but I know that this tan building means more to me than all of the rest of them combined.  That’s because I own the business in that tan building.  I also know that the people who work inside are some of the smartest and hardest working people that I’ve ever known.

9:03 p.m.  The train pulls to a stop at the Winona, Minnesota Amtrak Depot.  The engineer has made up 11 minutes of the 83 minute grass fire delay.  My home is only two blocks away; just a quiet walk up Main Street.  I will be inside my kitchen reading the mail by the time the smokers hop back on the train, yearning for their next puff in St. Paul.

Trip Review:

Driving Time, 5 hours 25 minutes.
IRS Vehicle Mileage Allowance:  305 miles @.55 per mile = $167.75
Stress Costs:  Concentration at the wheel for 5 hours, 25 minutes.

Scheduled Amtrak Time: 5 hours 36 minutes
Actual Amtrak Time with grass fire delay:  6 hours, 47 minutes
Cost of Amtrak Ticket:  $46.00
Stress Costs:  Almost zero.  Spent the time writing this blog!

Let me express happy greetings to all of my readers on this Easter Sunday of 2009. This week, while Italians have grieved for their dead and many millions of people throughout the world have sought to remember the life, suffering, death, and resurrection of Christ, our rock star President has taken his “American Apology Tour” to Europe and Turkey. Along the way, while apologizing for American arrogance and praising Muslim scientific achievement in the 8th century, his message included his well-practiced theme that “Whatever we once were, we’re no longer a Christian nation.” That’s the last time we’re going to let him get advance notes from Reverend Wright’s Easter sermon.

Sorry to ruin Easter with mention of Obama. While you can be sure that he will provide much fodder for future comments, you’ll not hear another word about him this week. Suffice it to say that the United States of America (as well as Europe) has reaped solid rewards from its Judeo-Christian heritage. I’m one fellow who is very grateful that our nation has grown from the seeds of British common law rather than Sharia law.

On a much brighter note, this weekend we’re fortunate to have many of our family with us here in Winona, Minnesota to celebrate holy week and Easter. What has been a long and cold winter has finally passed. The snow is finally gone; not to return for several months. In Minnesota, even temperatures of 50 f (10 c) are a welcome sign of spring. In the calm, early mornings, the “good fog” creeps over the Mississippi River, which gave up its ice only two weeks ago. The “good fog” occurs in the spring, when the rising air temperature is greater than the water temperature. The “bad fog” occurs in the fall when the water temperature is greater than the falling air temperature.

Along with the weather, other human activities hearken the beginning of spring. The engine oil has been changed in both snow blowers and Sta-Bil has been added to the gasoline to avoid starting problems next fall. Both blowers are now in storage for the summer. The old John Deere tractor with the plow attachment is now in the shop for its spring maintenance, complete with the installation of the mowing deck. In the next several weeks the outdoor screen porch will be cleaned and the furniture will be placed therein. No longer threatened with the possibility of freezing water, the garden hoses will come out, and the flowers will be planted. I fired up the ’29 model A Ford yesterday, after a long winter’s rest. Bucking her usual shaky spring “resurrection”, she ran real smooth after finally starting.

And, of course, there is baseball. When asked what he does in the winter, when there is no baseball, legendary player Rogers Hornsby said, “I stare out of the window and wait for spring”. The Twins had their last home opener at the Metrodome on Monday, April 6th. The Cubbies open at Wrigley Field tomorrow, April 13th, weather permitting. Ah, yes! Spring!

Let me wish you and your families a wonderful Easter Sunday. May this truly be a time of resurrection for our families, our economy, our country, and our lives.

In a country where a Chicago “community organizer” can fire the CEO of General Motors, the Obama administration has pulled yet another “weekend surprise”. Sunday, March 29, 2009 General Motors CEO Rick Wagoner was forced to step down from his job after a 31 year career. I’m not defending Wagoner, under whose leadership GM has been reluctant to reduce costs and re-invent itself, but the GM board of directors (not Obama) should have fired him years ago. If GM was to receive any more government money, Wagoner had to be the sacrificial lamb. Also over the weekend, Chrysler was told that it has 30 days to hammer out a deal with FIAT or it won’t receive any more bailout money.

Reading between the lines, the government has given up on Chrysler, which is privately held and is the smallest of the “big three”. Even if Chrysler can come to an agreement with FIAT in the next 30 days, FIAT isn’t giving Chrysler any cash. Unfortunately, Walter P. Chrysler, the brilliant young man who worked in the Union Pacific shops in Ellis, Kansas, may see his name vanish from America’s corporate marketplace, except for the gorgeous art-deco skyscraper he built on the corner of 42nd street and Lexington Avenue.

General Motors is being “eased” into bankruptcy. Obama officials announced this weekend that it will guarantee the warranty on all GM vehicles. Large firms that supply parts to automakers have also received government guarantees, removing the last obstacle to GM’s bankruptcy. Bankruptcy will be good for GM, allowing it to reduce its legacy costs and drive a hard bargain with its unions. Even though it has as shaky track record of picking winners and losers, the Obama administration has decided to pick GM (Government Motors) as its “winner” and Chrysler as its “loser”. This probably bodes well for Chrysler!

The irony is that for the past few years all of the “big three” have made cars of equal quality to those manufactured by Honda and Toyota. Last week JD Powers and Associates announced that Buick just dethroned Lexus in its highly-watched vehicle dependability study. It is a shame that the quality perceptions of US consumers have lagged behind the quality of American cars. From a quality viewpoint, I wouldn’t hesitate for a second to buy any Ford, GM or Chrysler product.

The only American automobile company that hasn’t taken the “Government Bailout Bait” is the venerable Ford Motor Company of Dearborn, Michigan. Under the leadership of CEO Alan Mulally, Ford has restructured its debt, sold off unprofitable lines, and is years ahead of GM in the survival game. Toyota’s attempt to dethrone Ford’s F-150 pickup with its large Tundra pickup and has failed miserably. The Focus and Fusion have been highly successful in the high-mpg small car market. In spite of terrible recession-driven sales numbers for both foreign and domestic auto makers, Henry Ford must be smirking just a little bit as he plays canasta with Walter Chrysler, Thomas Edison, and Harvey Firestone.

I was talking to a Ford dealer the other day and he told me about a hard-working dairy farmer who came into his dealership a few days ago. The fellow had driven GMC and Chevy trucks for years. He said to the dealer, “Give me one of those Ford pickups. I’m not buying a vehicle from any company that takes money from the government.” Ford Motor Company will profit from that sentiment.

If I was running Ford Motor Company, I’d have an ad campaign that said something like this:

“If you want an automobile made by an American company that doesn’t take government money, doesn’t have its strings pulled by politicians, produces great cars and trucks, and since 1901 has stood behind a warranty that doesn’t depend on shaky government promises that could change next weekend, get yourself into your local Ford dealer!”