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So this week marks my last column for the Budgeteer. Yes, these will be the very last words of mine to appear in this particular newspaper. Well, not these words. The final word will be the one at the end of this column. Feel free to skip ahead if you can’t wait to see what it is. I’ll be here when you get back ... Dum, dum, dum. How are you? Good. Me, too. Hmmm, hmmm, hmmmm.
So despite what my mirror says, I'm not perfect. Believe it or not, I've made a mistake or three during my seven years of writing columns for the Budgeteer. None of these mistakes were done purposely, of course. Rather, they are the result of painstakingly sloppy research, a meticulously cavalier attitude and all-around general laziness.
So once again Mother’s Day has crept up behind you, tapped you on the shoulder and reminded you of what a terrible offspring you are because you didn’t know Mother’s Day was creeping up behind you. What kind of a son/daughter ingrate are you? (Hint: probably a son.)
So with our spring weather finally cooperating (i.e., not burying us alive under 30 feet of ice-encrusted frigid frost blankets), it’s time to start thinking about getting outside. Then once we’re out there, we can experience the third-most frustrating outdoor activity in all of Duluth: 1) Dodging dive-bombing seagulls and their Gifts From Above. 2) Scrambling out of potholes.
So we’re about to enter a week filled with loud music, oceans of beer and more dancing than you can shake a stick at, although if that’s how you’re dancing, you’re a bit of a menace. Yes, it’s the Homegrown Music Festival.
So May is sneaking up on us, quiet as a mouse, but dangerous as a moose. (Not that a moose is super-dangerous, but I still wouldn’t want to meet one in Lester Park.) Mild temperatures are consistently above the teeth-chattering mark and that bright orb in the sky is actually sticking around a few minutes longer every day. It’s enough to lull you into a sense of summer security ... WELL, WAKE UP, RUSSELL!
So it's Easter and you know that means: If Jesus rises, walks out of that cave into the bright sunlight then sees his shadow, we've got six more weeks of winter. Or something like that. To be honest, those church sermons made me kind of sleepy when I was a kid so I didn't catch a lot of what Father Paquette had to say. I think there was something else about loaves, fishes and boxes of wine, but don't quote me on that.
So the 73rd annual Twin Ports Arrowhead Duluth Home, Boat, Travel, Kiwanis Builders, Job Fair, Pancake Day Sports & RV Show wraps up this weekend and I hope you all had a chance to check it out. I was going to go, but when I walked into the DECC lobby, I changed my mind. The place was packed. I mean, I get claustrophobic wearing wooly socks. So I made my way to the more wide open spaces of the Mariner Mall, where I had room to breathe. And run laps. And unleash a wild herd of moose and river otters.
So it's April Fools' weekend, the one time of the year when TV weather people can get away with being completely and totally wrong. MARCH 31: "Unseasonably warm temperatures tomorrow, so go ahead and leave those jackets at home." APRIL 1: "April Fools! And, again, I must apologize to Darren Danielson about yesterday's forecast. Although in my defense, I said you should leave your jackets at home, not your pants."
So it’s officially spring in the Northland, even though your eyes, ears and frostbitten toes might disagree. Around our house, this also signals the start to several sacred rituals: