Thanksgiving 2008 - A Time To Reflect

Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday as I mentioned in an earlier blog. This year was no different. although the gatherings are getting smaller. Pictured are my wife Kim, my wonderful mother-in-law Joy, and Kim's very spiritual younger sister, Kristi, who joined us on thanksgiving morning and, thankfully, i think are going to stay with us yet another evening tonight.

I am truly thankful for all three of these beautiful women! Each brings their own special view point of the world with them that really helps me to see the world differently as well.

I put together what has always been the traditional Heagle farm style Thanksgiving dinner that my mother Alice would serve up so bounteously: In addition to a 15 pound turkey (I had asked for a 10-12!), we had a rice/wild rice with mushroom and Italian sausage stuffing, freshly made cranberry sauce, true sweet potatoes (it wasn't until last year that I found there is a difference between yams and sweet potatoes), mashed potatoes and some of the best turkey gravy I have ever produced, and freshly steamed broccoli.

For dessert there was two layer cheesecake (the women's favorite) and a pumpkin pie. Since the three gals went after the cheesecake, it left more pumpkin pie for me!
It's always really enjoyable to have Joy visit as she gets such a kick out of the two kittens and their high jinks. Stella has continued to fight off eye infections -- it has now shifted to her right eye, so we are administering the necessary eye drops four times a day.

Kim got the photo that I wanted to display of Stella drinking from the water bowl as she has such a wonderfully weird approach, straddling the dish with both paws as if to hold it down while she laps away.

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On Thanksgiving Day, the Eau Claire Leader Telegram ran a story on Phong Xiong and Pete Roller and how Pete volunteers part of his acerage to Phong's Hmong family to use for produce farming in the summer months.

I was excited by the article as we have two parcels that could be used for the same purpose here on our land. In fact, it would be a win/win situatiion for me as I wouldn't have to mow the big lot behind the office if cash crops are being grown there and the land would be put to good use!

So I contacted Phong and here are our e mails:

From: Lawrence Heagle
Subject: Possible Land Use
To: phongxiong2008@yahoo.com
Date: Thursday, November 27, 2008, 3:47 PM





Phong:

My wife and I live just out of town, about a mile and a half from
Oakwood Mall, just beyond Interstate 94 -- actually sort of at the
junctions of Highway 53 South and Interstate 94 so it would be a
convenient spot to grow. Of course, first you will need to determine
if the soil is usable. We actually have two plots as we bought up
properties on both sides of our home. One is quite small, the other
about double that size. I know the soil is quite sandy but there is
a stand of rhubarb that grows back every summer on the larger tract.

One of my very best friends, John Buchholz, plays music with Pete
Roller, and I am certain if you mention my name to Pete he will know
who I am as I have been a "musician/comedian" in the area since 1976
when I retired from teaching middle school at (of all places) Delong!

Please do give me a call, hopefully before the snow hits and the
ground freezes and I will tell you how to get out here to look it
over. You can reach me at my cell: 590-8222. I will be home all
this coming weekend so you can also try the house at 834-8815.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and your entire family!

Larry Heagle


"Human salvation lies in the hands of the creatively maladjusted."
- Martin Luther King, Jr.

Hi Larry,

Happy Thanksgiving to you and your wife. Thank you so much for the offer. I will be out of town this weekend, but I will call you on Monday for sure. We will set up a time to meet and look at the soil. I will be sure to mention this to Pete. Again, my family appreciates your generosity.




Phong


I am pretty excited about being able to help such wonderful people in my own attempt to show some thanks on this Thanksgiving! I hope it works out.

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HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYBODY -- MEMORIES OF GONEBY

Dear Lar,

You of course know the Thanksgiving I always think of....at the farm...what precious memories of it all.

I don't even want to try to tell you what you mean to me and I am thankful for it each day.

To quote Beethoven again:


Never shall I forget the days which I spent with you....Continue to be my friend, as you will always be mine.

Ludwig von Beethoven

Love,

Matt

Thus was the loving e mail I received yesterday from my very good friend who lives just outside of Napoli, Italy, where his wife Dianne is finishing up her final year of teaching music at the American Naval Base. (Geez! I think I got that right, but I are old so the facts might not be correct on that!)

The Thanksgiving Matt refers to was many years ago. I informed my dear mother, Alice, the best cook I know, that I would be coming over to the family farm south of Menomonie with a dinner guest, (Matt) and I would be bringing the turkey.

I explained to her that Matt and I wanted to do all the food preparation which of course she agreed to as long as I let her do something. We decided she could make the pumpkin pies as she made absolutely the best!

Before I go further, you must understand that this was more than likely at the end of the 1970's and a goodly portion of college age folk had at least tried smoking pot. Since I left education and became a full time entertainer, marijuana was very acceptable to my "profession". Hell, I remember working a little peanut bar off the University of Minnesota campus back in those days and the crowd passed a joint around the room while I was onstage! When it came down front, the harmonica player who was working with me took a hit and passed it over to me.

Unlike Bill Clinton, I inhaled.

So Matt and I jumped in the green ford van, reefer and turkey at hand, and headed for the farm via the "short cut" cross country, south of Menomonie. Even in late November Wisconsin is a beautiful place to be, especially after a good hit on the herb when you become appreciative of all the different shades of brown and gray there really are!

We knew that my mom and dad would be gone to Mass when we got there so we had the farm kitchen to ourselves. We unloaded all the foodstuffs and the goodly bottles of wine -- now that I think of it, I think there WERE several - and took over the kitchen, salivating over Alice's freshly baked pies, still warm, cooling on the kitchen table.

We popped the cork on the first bottle of wine. While I cleaned out the turkey and started the stuffing, Matt worked on peeling potatoes and scrubbing up the yams.

When all was ready, including the pre-heating of the overn, we got the bird into the heat and opened the second bottle of wine.

Here I must stop because truthfully from this point all I can remember is that we laughed until tears rolled down our faces, mom and dad came home to find two really happy lads in her kitchen and it was a day of great love, joy and true thanksgiving.

Hopefully, I can get Matthew to write how he remembers the day and add it to this blog later.

My mother and father have gone to their rest now, as has my father-in-law, Bob. This thursday, however, I will be back in the kitchen here at home, cooking for those I love that are nearest by; Kim's mom, Joy and her sister, Kristi, are coming down to share the day with us.

Thanksgivng has always been my favorite holiday. I guess because it revolves around food! I can hardly wait to slice into the turkey, dip into the yams and mashed potatoes and gravy, the freshly made cranberry sauce, the salad, the rolls, and finish it off with pumpkin pie or cheese cake.

This year there won't be any wine or pot!

I received this e mail from Matt, concerning the above:

" I do remember that Fr. John was there and had a great time. I think eventually everyone was there...even Anson and Diana...I know Bob was there...the whole crowd ...

John was the priest there in town and had done the Mass...I asked him if he forgave us for not coming to Mass to which he said..."it doesn't makde any difference if I forgive you...but He does ...you had to get all of this ready. Ma got out the biggest piece of cheese and crackers and olives etc...for horsdeuvre of which we ate so much there was little room left for anything else...Ma told me when I asked her about the pies...she said the secret was in the milk and cream used...she used fresh milk and mostly heavy cream to make them. I remember the first time I went to the farm Ma asked me if I liked cottage cheese...I love it...so she got a small bowl and a spoon from somewhere in the milk room where the milk ended up...went to the bag holding the drippiing cottage cheese and scooped some into the bowl...then to the cream tank and poured a whole dipper full of heavy cream over the whole thing. The cottage cheese world has never been the same since...all pale in the remembrance of that. I never had the courage to order the homemade bread spread with butter and jam in a bowl filled with fresh cream which is on the menu of the Norski Nook cafe and cardiac clinic. The place with the mile high meragine.

On that Thanksgiving I don't remember going home...perhaps we stayed there overnight...one time we did and I got up at 4 or so to do the early milking with everyone."

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I AM INDIFFERENT TO YOUR SUFFERING

I spent most of last friday "winterizing" our house. for the first time, we went to Menard's and bought the 3M plastic window coverings that you put up with double sided tape and then tighten up with a blow dryer.

Again, my friend Tom Johnson came to my rescue as he is supremely much more talented in that kind of thing. I became adept at flicking the end of the double sided tape until it freed the backing from the sticky side so tht I could hand it over to Tom to apply it to the window sills.

The huge sliding patio doors were somewhat of a nightmare since "Hammy" got into the plastic while it was still on the floot and poked a hole in it with his back claws, forcing us to do a patch job after getting the sheet of plastic in place.

So here it is -- a sunday without Packer football -- when I finish a bit of office work I have oveer here, I will nap the rest of the afternoon away as I am still suffering from an "adrenaline" hangover" from yesterday's appearance at Annz Books in Chetek.

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Heading North On 53? Make A Stop at Annz Boutique and Books, Chetek

Last week my amazing marketeer, Liz Fischer, whom I have watched work her marketing skill and charm - she could sell cement blocks to a drowning man - e mailed me and wanted to know how I would feel about making a personal appearance at Annz Boutique and Books in lovely down town Chetek, Wisconsin.

It had been a while since my last jaunt to a book store to promote my CD's and since I now have a new one,"Living On The Edge" produced entirely by Ms. Fischer (it came out magnificently if I may say so myself) and getting the news that Ann was somewhat of my vintage, only younger and in much better condition, and in addition, a "fan" of mine, it was really easy to say yes, load up a small amplifier and the venerable Gibson J45 guitar, steep a thermos of strong java and hit the road north.

Arriving at 526 2nd Street (okay, so I missed it on my first swing through town and embarrassedly had to stop at the grocery store to ask the clerk exactly where it is - she was obviously a voracious reader as she said "I think it's the place with the fence in front -- that's the only place with books that I can think of") I walked in the front door which is in actuality the middle section of three and the focal point of Chetek's version of Starbucks, but with much more small town charm. I was immediately greeted by one of the on site artists with a hearty good morning.

I took a right and went into the section pictured and encountered a woman in a red sweater and matching hot red shoes, who fixed exclusively on my Packer jacket, exclaiming how beautiful she thought it was, wanting to know where I got it, and how she wished she had her camera because her son needs to see it. I explained that it was a jacket I bought some 15 years ago and have sort of built over the years with various patches representing the history of the team.

I then asked her if she was Ann and when she said that she was, I extended my hand and said "Larry Heagle". This made her very happy. She told me of how she had been one of my "groupies" for some 34 years (not so -- I've only been at this for THIRTY!) and that she was very happy and honored to have me at the boutique.

It turns out that Ann. like both Kim and myself, is a former educator turned book store owner and that she really has found her little corner of the world in Chetek.

After taking some photos of the jacket with my camera, I began bringing in my equipment to set up and be ready to go by 11AM. About the time I was making the second trip out to the Scion, I noticed a youngish, suited man with two gals in tow making their way into the store. Two things stood out -- he was the first male to arrive in a store full of women and he was wearing a dark suit. I thought the suit was a bit much for Chetek on the first saturday of deer hunting season but dismissed it -- as an elderly woman once dismissed me way back in the day when I used to wear ruffled shirts to my gigs and walked into the chiropractor's waiting room and plopped down next to her. She gave me the once over and said loudly: "IT TAKES ALL KINDS."

At 11 AM, being a punctual Catholic boy, I launched into the show, explaining that I would be running the gamut of all three CD's, doing some serious tunes from Irish Heart, some bawdy stuff from "Rude, Crude, and Poor" and some of the monologues from "Living on the Edge", all the while vamping in G and then belting out (as best I could at this "early hour") "Rocket Action Oldsmobile".

I followed this with the monologue about teaching eighth graders which naturally leads into "The Vasectomy Song". I no sooner launched the intro to "Vasectomy" when the suited gentleman and entourage purposefully got up and beat a hasty exit. Ann was in the other section at the time, waiting on a customer and when she returned I told her that I had already cleared the store of three of her patrons.

She explained that this was not a problem. Turns out he is the local Jehovah's Witness.

This tickled me much more than probably was appropriate at a book store in a small town but truthfully I received this news with a great amount of glee. Before I let my addled brain think it over, I blurted: "Hey! That's great! Finally justice for all those early mornings when his ilk rang my door bell, waving The Watchtower in my face!"

Other highlights of the morning: together we celebrated a great elderly man's 89th birthday, albeit a bit late, as John's birthday was November 6th; the school secretary from my days of teaching at DeLong Junior High showed up with her daughter, who had been in one of my 8th grade classes, and there were even a couple more men who showed up, shunning deer hunting and the call of the wild to instead listen to me -- the guy that as one of the men who came in right in the middle of the Vasectomy monologue and was warned of what he was about to participate in, simply said "Don't worry about it -- I'v already been told -- you're crazy."

Another great moment - when the Lutheran minister and his wife arrived shortly after I had finished my presentation, and upon overhearing their conversation with Ann and seeing the disappointment on their faces for having missed the show, decided they would buy one of my CD's. When he picked up "Rude, Crude, and Poor", Ann headed him off with: "You probably don't want that one."

That's when I stepped up with a copy of "Irish Heart" and told them to please take it home with them as an early Christmas present as I am most proud of the poetry and music on that CD.

The wife was genuinely touched by the gesture and said: "A man who understands how very little a minister makes in a small town!' Thank you."

Liz called me earlier this evening to see how it went. I told her it was a great day of justice. I chased out a Jehovah's Witness and gave of myself to a religious family.

Cd's sales upon conclusion were brisk and I somehow managed to not succumb to the Olson's Ice Cream that was available in the coffee section -- even now that I had some actual money in my pocket.

How embarrassing is this? I had to use my credit card to get a sausage, egg and biscuit on my way out of Eau Claire in the morning!

Still in all, a great day!

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Rush Limburger - Blow hard and Danger to American Leadership

It had ben years since I last heard Rush Limbaugh's right wing bullshit on radio one day while traveling west on a comedy club tour. I remember thinking "This guy has some serious mental problems." Turns out he is nothing more than a fascist "shock jock" and king of Oxycontin who has made a name for himself by spewing hate over the airwaves.

That's why I took such pleasure in reading Senator (R) Chuck Hagel's assessment of this modern day version of Germany's minister of propaganda, Josef Geobbels, in a recent news article:

"Two months before he leaves office, Sen. Chuck Hagel is increasingly unrestrained by political niceties.

Appearing at a forum at the Johns Hopkins School of Advances International Studies, the outgoing Nebraska Republican leveled harsh criticism at his own party, the lack of intellectual curiosity among some of his colleagues, the Bush administration's handling of nearly every aspect of governance and -- perhaps most bitingly -- the conservative radio voices that often dictate the GOP agenda.

"We are educated by the great entertainers like Rush Limbaugh," said Hagel, sarcastically referencing the talk radio host who once called him "Senator Betrayus." "You know, I wish Rush Limbaugh and others like that would run for office. They have so much to contribute and so much leadership and they have an answer for everything. And they would be elected overwhelmingly," he offered. "[The truth is] they try to rip everyone down and make fools of everybody but they don't have any answers."

Well put, senator! But on an even darker note, writer Steve Weissman had this to say yesterday:

Leave it to Rush Limbaugh. We have just elected as our president an African-American, who would not have been able to vote in large parts of our country less than 50 years ago, and we have proved to ourselves and to the world that we remain a land of enormous opportunity. Yet, the country's best-known radio talk-show host wasted no time using our airwaves to attack the president-elect for preaching "racism" and "socialism," and for creating our current economic collapse by scaring off potential investors who fear higher taxes. "The Obama recession is in full swing, ladies and gentlemen," Limbaugh proclaimed only two days after the election. "Stocks are dying, which is a precursor of things to come. This is an Obama recession. Might turn into a depression."

Limbaugh went on to call Obama "a Chicago thug," and suggested that the incoming president would take advice, or even direction, from the 1960s radical Bill Ayers, a founder of the Weather Underground and the "terrorist" bogeyman that John McCain and Sarah Palin accused Obama of "palling around" with. "Bill Ayers is a silent adviser," warned Limbaugh. "Don't think he's not."

Many Democrats will dismiss Limbaugh as a voice of the past, who is simply trying to boost his audience ratings. But that's just the point. For all his noxious rhetoric, the motor mouth from Missouri knows precisely the kind of red meat his listeners crave, and he's happy to serve it up - just as right-wing broadcasters did against John F. Kennedy and the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., with results we know too well. Pray for an era of Kumbaya, if you will. My bet is that Limbaugh is only an opening wedge for the anti-Obama war still to come. To paraphrase an earlier column, welcome to the counterrevolution."

It is Limburger Limbaugh the druggist and "You betcha Palin" that have gotten every crackpot right wingnut foaming at the mouth so badly that the drool is rusting up the receivers of their 307 deer rifles.

Several weeks before the election I stopped out at Gander Mountain to check prices on end of season spinning rods. As I was returning to my car, an avid Limbaugh groupie was staring at the "Bush is a war criminal" bumper sticker on my rear bumper and muttering his favorite curse word: "liberal".

I would like to give notice to all the sicko racists, including Rushie-baby -- when the revolution comes, you will find me standing with my brothers -- ALL my brothers -- white, black, red, olive -- with my 16 gauge pump shot gun -- and then we shall see just how liberal I really am.

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Important Tips For The Next Time You Go Out To Hear Live Music

When requesting a song from the band, just say "play my song", or "it
goes something like this" then hum a few bars! We have a chip
implanted in our heads with an unlimited database with the favorite
tunes of every patron who ever walked into a bar & all songs ever
recorded, so feel free to be vague, we love the challenge.

If we do not remember exactly what tune you want, we're only kidding.
Bands know every song ever recorded, so keep humming. Hum harder if
need be ... it helps jog the memory.

If a band tells you they do not know a song you want to hear, they
either forgot that they know the tune or they are just putting you on.
Try singing a few words for the band. Any words.

If one member halfway knows part of a chorus, the rest of the band
will instantly learn the entire song by osmosis. Knowing this, if the
band still claims to not know your song, it helps to just keep
requesting the same song every time there is a break.

It also helps to scream your request from across the room several
times per set followed by the phrases, "AW COME ON!" and, "YOU SUCK!"
Exaggerated hand gestures expressing disapproval from the dance floor
are a big help as well, such as the thumbs down or your middle finger.
Put-downs are the best way to jog a band's memory. This instantly
promotes you to the status of "Personal Friend Of The Band."

Entertainers are notorious fakers & jokesters and never really prepare
for their shows. They simply walk on stage with no prior thought to
what they will do once they arrive. An entertainer's job is so easy,
even a monkey could do it, so don't let them off the hook easily. Your
request is all that matters.

If a metal band had played at the club a few weeks ago, the next band
that follows will automatically know every metal tune the previous
band ever played, even if the current band is a blues or country
band. It's the law. Feel free to yell AC DC or SLAYER!! to a band that
plays strictly originals or jazz for example. Conversely, Deadheads
may yell for Grateful Dead tunes at a dance or metal band.

IMPORTANT

When an entertainer leans over to hear you better, grab his or her
head in both hands and yell directly into their ear, while holding
their head securely so they cannot pull away. This will be taken as an
invitation to a friendly & playful game of tug of war between their
head and your hands.

Don't give up! Hang on until the singer or guitar player submits.
Drummers are often safe from this fun game since they usually sit in
the back, protected by the guitar players.

Keyboard players are protected by their instrument, & only play the
game when tricked into coming out from behind their keyboards. Though
difficult to get them play, it's not impossible, so keep trying.
They're especially vulnerable during the break between songs.

TALKING WITH THE BAND

The best time to discuss anything with the band in any meaningful way
is at the middle of a song when all members are singing at the same
time (such as a multi harmony part). Our hearing is so advanced that
we can pick out your tiny voice from the megawatt wall of sound
blasting all around us. Musicians are expert lip readers too. If a
musician does not reply to your question or comment during a tune,
it's because they didn't get a good look at your mouth in order to
read your lips.

Simply continue to scream your request & be sure to over emphasize the
words with your lips. This helps immensely. Don't be fooled.

Singers have the innate ability to answer questions & sing at the same
time. If the singer doesn't answer your questions immediately,
regardless of how stupid the question may seem, it's because they are
purposely ignoring you. If this happens, immediately cop an attitude.
We love this.

HELPING THE BAND

If you inform the band that you are a singer, the band will appreciate
your help with the next few tunes, or however long you can remain
standing on stage. Just pretend you're in a Karaoke bar. Simply feel
free to walk up on stage & join in. By the way, the drunker you are,
the better you sound, & the louder you should sing.

If by chance you fall off the stage, be sure to crawl back up &
attempt to sing harmony. Keep in mind that nothing assists the band
more than outrageous dancing, third & fourth part harmonies, or a
tambourine played out of tempo. Try the cow bell, they love the
challenge. The band always needs the help & will take this as a
compliment.

VERY IMPORTANT

Remember to allow enough time to make it from the stage to the
bathroom in case of an emergency. On stage accidents are bad form. The
band will carry on.

BONUS TIP

As a last resort, wait until the band takes a break and then get on
stage and start playing their instruments. They love this. Even if you
are ejected from the club, you can rest assured in the fact that you
have successfully completed your audition. The band will call you
immediately the following day to offer you a position.


See you at the next gig ... The Band


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Wisconsin Housing Alliance Makes For Great Audience

Wednesday, November 12, took me to the Marshfield Holiday Inn to perform for the Wisconsin Housing Alliance.

I arrived early enough to have a nice visit with my employer, Julie Patten, Director of Member Services, out of Madison, Wisconsin. I then had a chance to visit the various distributors who had their displays set up in the lobby. After a goodly cocktail hour, they sat down to dinner. (One of the things I like about being an after dinner performer is that by the time the "audience" has eaten, any rowdy edge that they may have had right after cocktail hour is dulled by the food and makes for a much better crowd.)

The show went well, and I was on my way by 9:45 PM. It took a while to negotiate good old Highway 10, or as I call it, "Wisconsin Death Trip", as it was extremely foggy and this is the time of year when the white tails are at their craziest and have been known to wander out on the highway and just stand there staring at you. Fortunately I made it home without mishap!

(I just looked at the photo and MAN! Do I need to lose weight!)



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