Steve Fernlund and The Long Way Home

It appears that I’ve made it through another winter relatively unscathed. Thanks to ibuprofen, I moved all the snow we had and almost six cords of firewood without injury or strain. I only fell once, tripping on one of the porch steps, leaving me with a slightly strained wrist and a massively strained ego. Despite winter's best efforts, being alert and wearing anti-slip devices on my boots meant I didn’t slip and fall outdoors—hips intact. The Bohunk fared pretty well. About a month ago, though, she slipped on ice at the bottom of the main stairs off the porch. She grabbed the handrail, which broke loose, and she bounced on her keister. Nothing was damaged except her pride and the handrail bracket. Still, she earned a bruise that resembled an extensive Rorschach test on the part of her anatomy that meets a chair. Reflecting on my 71st winter, I am emotionally devastated by the national and global events of the last three months. The reactions of people I know, who seem to cheer on ...

In a recent recorded interview, President Trump said that “tariff” is the most beautiful word in the dictionary and that it is his favorite word.  Some of my civics and history teachers in the 1960s may have tried to teach us about tariffs, but I don’t recall ever hearing the word until 1972, and it wasn’t used the way it is bandied about today. Trump’s effusive praise and defense of the word sent me on a mission to untangle the threads of misunderstanding surrounding the words "tariff," "traffic," and "cabotage." After reading this, you may think I have too much time on my hands, but I’d be delighted if my perspective could clarify things for you. It's important to note that tariffs have been a part of international trade for centuries, with their use and impact evolving over time. Toward the end of 1972, I entered The College of Advanced Traffic course at Humboldt Institute in south Minneapolis. My dad thought I could become a rate clerk, a relativel...

Opening another box the other day, the Bohunk found a small treasure from my boyhood that spoke to what was important to me. It is three yellow boxes, two Matchbox Series cars (a Mercedes Coupe and a fire truck), and a Dinky Toys Ford Anglia. The toys are like new, and the boxes are reasonably intact. A quick internet search showed me they were collectible but not expensive.  The memories they brought back are priceless. Cars defined me back then. I constantly surprised my dad when I correctly answered his question, “What kind of car is that?” From Edsels to Town Cars, I could tell the manufacturer, year of production, and other meaningless trivia at a glance. I was fascinated with planes, trains, and automobiles. But cars could take a young man anywhere, at any time. Plus, they were cool. When I was five or six, I had the exhilarating experience of riding in the backseat of my Aunt Vona’s Austin Healy 3000, a moment that fueled my passion for cars. She seemed like the coolest aunt...

I’ve had two lines of thought this week on The Long Way Home. The only thing that ties the two lines together is that they both focus on our country's near-term future.  The first is the role of federal judges in tempering the current and future administrations' excesses. As a baby boomer, I learned about the US government in our Civics class. Remember those? The Constitution created three co-equal branches of our federal government: legislative, executive, and judicial. After living under a regime where the King of England had absolute power through decrees (executive orders) that bypassed the will of his legislators and judiciary, the framers of the Constitution wanted to prevent any branch of the government from accumulating excess power. Since ratified in June of 1788, there has been a constant struggle as one or more branches try to exert more power than the others.  My recollection of the introductory lesson in high school was that the three branches of government were i...

The social media site I like to call the Book of Face helps me learn more about human behavior, and it scares me sometimes. In the age of social media and 24/7 news cycles, constructive dialogue is rare. An insidious tactic on Facebook from all sections of the political spectrum is "whataboutism," a simple rhetorical maneuver that ends any attempt at meaningful discussion. When someone you’re communicating with starts their following sentence, “Yeah, but what about…?” you know the discussion is over. "Whataboutism" is a common rhetorical tactic that involves responding to an accusation or criticism by deflecting it with a counter-accusation, often related to a different issue. It's a way of avoiding the original point, oftentimes because the original point is contrary to what we feel and believe. On St. Patrick’s Recovery Day, I reposted an article on Facebook titled “Minnesota State Sen. Eichorn arrested on suspicion of soliciting a minor.” The post contained a...