Greetings from Minnesooooota.

Paul Bunyan, life size. (not really life size)

Dateline:  Bemidji, Minnesota

Hello Gentle Readers, As I write this I am in the process of returning from a business trip in the northern area of the state, in the small town of Bemidji (pronounced:  how the hell should I know, I don’t speak Minnesooootan).  I heard it was named after a wise old Indian chief who was famous for saying:  “he who chops his own firewood warms himself twice”…..and who probably had a nagging wife telling him to chop firewood. 

I learned on my trip some interesting, yet useless facts.  Bemidji, Minnesota has several claims to fame.  One is that they say the Mississippi river starts here.  Well, I guess it had to start somewhere.  And this is the area made famous by Paul Bunyon.  Mr. Bunyon, the legendary giant lumberjack, was an avid, yet awful golfer.  He would repeatedly swing and miss the ball   creating divots all over the state.  These divots, according to tall tales, filled with water and became the area’s lakes.  This is the land of 10,000 lakes, so Paul was a busy boy.  He played almost as much golf as President Obama. In addition to creating lakes, Paul unsuccessfully tried to introduce plaid shirts and suspenders as the official dress for professional golfers. 

An important landmark can be found in Red Wing, Minnesota.  This is where the Red Wing boot company has the world’s largest boot on display.  It is a size 638 ½, (in men’s, EEEEE width in case you are shopping for boots).  And you may be interested to know there is a museum dedicated to Spam, the canned pork product, in Austin MN.  The admission to this museum is free, so it must pose a dilemma for economy minded Jewish tourists.

I have heard a lot about ice fishing from the guys I came to meet with.  A lot about it. Apparently this is some kind of winter ritual.  Ice fishing, man cave style, is where the local men drag small, portable buildings out on to the frozen lake in a spot where they think fish might be.  These man caves don’t have floors in them, which is perfect since men aren’t going to vacuum anyway.  Some of these man caves have leather chairs, flat screen TV’s, propane heaters, and ice chests full of beer.  (What a shock).  The fishermen cut a hole in the ice, drop a line, and then ignore it for hours at a time while they watch football, drink beer and avoid vacuuming.  I am not sure why they feel the need to use fishing as an excuse, to hide in their little rooms.  I guess they have nagging wives that would be after them to cut fire wood.  That seems to be a common theme among nagging women.  (did I write that outloud?)

I can just imagine what would happen if I, Your Intrepid Traveler,  had an ice fishing man cave.  I would drag it out on to the frozen lake, and cut the hole, as usual.  I would drop a line in the water, and stare blankly at the slushy hole.  Since I am a Texan, and not used to the low temperature, I would rapidly get chilled to the bone.  So I would do the natural thing and turn up the heat inside the man cave.  I’d quickly make it toasty warm, not thinking that the heater would melt the ice, soon leaving only a man cave sized hole in the frozen lake.    Where did Bill go?

You may be asking yourself:  “Self, how did Bill learn so much about Minnesoooota when he was only in the state for 36 hours?”  Answer:  A wise old Indian chief, hiding in a teepee shaped man cave, told me.