Published Aug. 24, 2003 in the Hibbing Daily Tribune
They shouldn’t give people glowing orange parking wands unless they know darn well how to use them. In fact, there should be a universal wand language for parking attendants, much like there is for runway technicians at major airports.
Last week, we encountered a unique signal for “stop” used by one of the parking lot workers at the Itasca County Fair in Grand Rapids. Instead of holding up the wand using two hands, or making an extended palm “stop” signal, the well-intentioned gentleman just waved his wand above his head like a pirate sword.
“Arr! Stop ye,” his jaunty wand implied. Of course, being a mere novice in “piratespeak,” I missed the signal and continued driving, thus tilting the delicate balance that ruled the fairgrounds parking lot.
“Didn’t you see me?” he later asked. “I was trying to stop you.” Oh we saw you, Blue Beard. We was preparin’ to be boarded so you could plunder our goods and sundries. We thought if we put out full sail we could make Trinidad where the Royal Navy would protect us. Arrr.
I don’t want to be too rough on the parking guy. He was just trying to do his job during extremely hot weather. I’m just saying that we don’t emerge from the womb knowing what it means when you frantically thrash an orange wand above your head. At least I didn’t. Maybe that’s why pirates keep taking advantage of me. (dejectedly) Arrr.
At any rate, both of our area counties, Itasca and St. Louis, have now held their annual county fairs, thus signaling the de facto conclusion of summer in the Northland. It’s hard to believe that summer is almost over because we’ve had some of the year’s hottest weather in just the past 10 days. But the school year is almost here and the legions of summer residents are gassing up their SUVs for the upcoming journey to their gated homelands. Ha! I kid my suburban friends. In reality, most of them fly helicopters and live on private islands, or so I’m told.
For summer lovers … or rather, lovers of summer, it is a sad time. But I don’t buy the popular small talk cliché, “Where did the summer go?” There are scant few people who may make this comment with any legitimacy. People trapped in an underground mine since May 31 or those who live south of the Equator are among these exceptions. The rest of us should be able to account for the last three months of our lives, unless we happen to be off-season public officials doing vague consulting work for large corporations. In that event it’s usually best not to know where the summer, or our lingering campaign debt, went.
Christina and I spent last weekend at Lake Boony, where everything at the bottom of the lake is now bobbing along on the surface, another fun late summer detail. I keep looking for Jimmy Hoffa, but no dice.
We thought it would be fun to cool off in the lake and let our little Molly Dog take a swim, too. Molly didn’t like the water when she was a puppy, but has since learned to appreciate it. Well, more accurately, she has developed a deep-seeded hatred of lily pads and has begun a life’s quest to bite each one individually. We have lots of lily pads on Lake Boony, so her schedule is full.
The dog looks kind of like a muskrat when she’s in the water, which always makes me a little nervous. One day, I’m going to look in the rear view mirror and see some strange lake rodent in Molly’s crate staring back at me after an unfortunate mix-up.
All told, it was quite an exciting weekend. I saw a woodchuck successfully evade a hawk, which was fun. Like live theater, nature shows are always best when seen in person. It’s also a thrill, because the woodchuck-hawk sequence was the equivalent of “improv.” Was it going to end with a content woodchuck or a bloody massacre? Not even the actors knew. Edgy.
Even if summer is waning, there’s still a lot of fun stuff going on. You should try to catch that hawk-woodchuck act yourself. Or, if that’s not your thing, buy one of those parking wands and practice sacking cargo ships. Arrr! Summer be the greatest time o’ year.
Aaron J. Brown is a columnist for The Daily Tribune.