Steve Fernlund and The Long Way Home

The “Blame Game” over the wildfires destroying the suburbs around the City of Los Angeles is roaring in high gear. Politicians and media types play the game, pointing the middle finger at others for causing the problem or making it worse. This ‘Blame Game’ is a common phenomenon in the aftermath of natural disasters. It's a diversion tactic that shifts the focus from finding solutions to a problem to assigning fault, often to the detriment of those affected. Instead of addressing the root causes or preparing for future disasters, people blame everything from the other party’s officeholders to social policy like DEI for what is simply a natural disaster. Like all significant natural disasters, the California fires are made much worse because people want to live where s@#$ happens.  Natural disasters, such as earthquakes, floods, tornadoes, or the Polar Vortex, do not discriminate. They affect everyone regardless of race, gender, or political affiliation. They are part of our shared ...

In 2004, W. was re-elected President and Facebook was unleashed on an unsuspecting public. Both had a profound effect on the world and my mental health, but only one is still around.  I created my Facebook account in 2008, when Bush was leaving the stage. A young chap named Zuckerberg—Zuck for short—was on his way to making billions as Facebook succeeded in garnering eyeballs and clicks beyond his wildest dreams. Over the last 17 years, I’ve spent some time most days looking at Facebook. At first, I added our offspring and other family as “Friends.” Then I started looking up friends and business connections from a previous life and inviting them to be “Friends.”  Unlike some, I wasn’t aggressive in expanding my Facebook network. I seem to have enough interaction with 382 friends and a few groups to keep me going. Recently, Zuck, dressed in the geeky bling and garb we’ve come to expect, announced that he was ending what he calls “fact-checking” from his online empire. Some in t...

Asking questions is part of a leader's job in church, politics, schools, or business. Much is written in books, blog posts, and magazines about being a leader who asks and keeps asking questions. Hopefully, that’s you. But you also want people in your organization who ask challenging, even annoying questions, and you better listen. After thoughtful consideration, you’re beginning a new customer service policy, technology, or compensation plan. The county board you’re serving on is looking at projects that will cost significant sums.  You’ve consulted your advisers, who tell you it’s a great idea. Your management team, for not all the right reasons, perhaps, says you’re on the right track. You believe you looked at all the alternatives, and your decision is rock solid. As the leader, you are brimming with confidence that the folks on the front line, along with your customers and constituents, will immediately see the benefits of your wise decision. And then…someone asks, “Why are we...

As we tend to do, I talked to someone last Friday about resolutions. When she asked about mine, I said, “I gave up on resolutions before I quit staying up until midnight on New Year's Eve, which was a long time ago.” Studies show that a relatively small percentage of people stick to their New Year's resolutions. Like Daylight Saving Time, we make a big deal for a day or two, and then life goes on. When we moved back to Cook County in 2016, the Bohunk and I resolved, with no thought to it being a New Year res, to go through all the bins of stuff we’d moved, but never unpacked over our last half-dozen relocations. We thought it would be a good winter project but always managed to procrastinate. We got off the line this year, and I’m happy to say we’re making progress. Since we moved from Grand Marais for the first time in the oughts, both of our mothers have died. We were diligent about getting rid of the routine household things they had, a considerable task, but we packed away ...

Now that Christmas 2024 is over, I find myself reflecting on our family's holiday traditions, including Christmas.  When our kids were young, we lived in the Twin Cities. We counted on a tradition my dad began, unknowingly, to celebrate Memorial Day, Labor Day, and even the Fourth of July. There was no real pre-planning for those days. My dad would call the house in the morning and say, "Yeah, shall we have a picnic today?" Having no other plans, because we knew the tradition, we always said, "Sure. When and where?" I don't know if that counts as tradition or habit, but we'd always get together for beans, chips, and hotdogs on those days. On the Fourth, after the picnic, we'd go to Veteran's Park in Richfield to sit in the grass, munch popcorn, dodge firecrackers and sparklers, and watch the fireworks. We lived in the Twin Cities for the first twenty-plus years of wedded bliss. So did my parents and sister and both sides of the Bohunk's famil...