The Blaisdell Blog

I am the family historian.   It isn’t the job I wanted, but it is a job I have grown into.   The Blaisdell branch of the family (my maternal grandfather) has been in this country since 1635.   A branch of his family came to Minnesota via Canada .   They left Massachusetts to Canada at around the time of the Revolutionary War.   A little creative intelligence tells me that those ancestors (about 9 generations back) were probably British sympathizers.   At this point I need to ask one question.   Does this make me less of an American?   Does this put my self-expressed love for this country and near reverence for its Constitution in doubt?   Am I under suspicion because of what my ancestors did 170 years before I was born?             Most of you out there are probably thinking two things (my readers are all exceptionally intelligent).   First, that what my ancestors did makes no difference to how I should be judged today.   I am a free standing being, making my own choices, my own de

I have an interesting proposal to make to anyone who uses illegal drugs.   I don’t mean the pot smoking, meth head, heroin addicted, cocaine using losers still living at home and the can’t-hold-a-job-because-they-are-constantly-tweaked fools.   They don’t read blogs (lost the ability to recognize a noun and verb link long ago).   I am talking to all of you out there who think in terms of, “recreational” use.   Those of you who think you are so smart, so special and so entitled that you can do a daily joint, an occasional line, indulge a random high and get by with it.   I have an interesting proposal for all of you drug users who mistakenly think you are respectable people.             I live in the Rio Grande Valley .   Several years ago, an acquaintance of mine, an internationally known author, was talking to me on the phone and wanted to know if Edinburg, Texas was a dangerous place, “…what with all the drug cartel violence.”   This man lives in New England, but he was very well a

I have seen more movies this year than in the last three combined.   Some of the movies have been disappointing ( Water for Elephants ), others refreshingly entertaining ( The Big Year ), and my latest cinematic exploration, J. Edgar , has been a thought provoking exploration of modern history.   Before I get to the point I want to make about J. Edgar it will be necessary to sweep the 500 pound gorilla out of the room.   Yes, the Director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, John Edgar Hoover, was most likely a practicing homosexual.   Big deal.   In the words of Ethel Merman, who was both a contemporary and friend of Hoover , “Some of my best friends are homosexual.   Everybody knew about J. Edgar Hoover, but he was the best chief the FBI ever had.”               The real story that Director, Clint Eastwood, was trying to tell was the story of power, how power corrupts, and how there is no such thing as a benevolent dictator.   Power is a corrosive.   The more you handle it the m

If you have not read the Twilight Saga books by Stephanie Meyer I think you should.   The four books are Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse and Breaking Dawn .   All have been turned into motion pictures and the final book, Breaking Dawn , will be released in theaters tomorrow.   The books are much better than the movies, which have the most beautiful scenery and the most marginal acting I have ever seen.   These are books that have a remarkable, well constructed, nuanced and intriguing point.   Stephanie Meyer has done what I might have thought impossible in the hedonistic climate of pop culture.   She presents a compelling argument for sexual abstinence.               I learned long ago, and not without the usual fumbles, tumbles and miscues, that it is a good idea to listen to your children as often as you talk to them.   As my children became adults (and the kind of adults any parent would be proud of) the listening became easier.   One area where we always find a lively conversation i

At church last week I watched a young couple busy with their infant daughter.   The little girl had finished a bottle, and Mom had her over her shoulder, patting her back, waiting for that lovely little burp.   As any mother knows, it came with a nice slobber of spit up milk.   Every mother of a new born has a permanent, “spit up” stain on her left shoulder.   We carry it as a badge of honor.   No piece of clothing is worth more than that precious child and their care and nurturing.               Mother’s have died for their children.   Are we really that different from the men that make up the football staff and administration of Penn State University ?   With apologies for the frankness of the language I am about to use, there is so much ugliness coming from the story of Penn State that it has to be spoken in plain English or it can hardly be believed or imagined.   And at each time, we need to imagine what we would have done if the children victimized by Jerry Sandusky were ours.

There is a photograph on the wall of my mother’s home that is both precious and haunting to me.   It is a restored, blown up and framed photo of my father on his way to the South Pacific during World War II.   It was taken by an Army photographer from a small tender craft as my Dad’s ship, the S.S. Monterey, left harbor.   In a happy accident, the picture was taken with a close up of Pfc. Frank G Yatckoske front and center.   He is in the midst of a host of soldiers leaning over the rail, all smiling and mugging for the camera.   My father is leaning out from the rest, his arms braced on the rail of the ship, his smile—a straight, wide grin filled with mischief—is set in a young, lean, handsome face.   Every man on that ship seems filled with enthusiasm, bonhomie, even a sense of adventure. Those poor young men didn’t have a clue.               I don’t want to contemplate what happened to most of those men.   I know that “I” Company of the 63 rd Infantry, 6 th Division went on to s

I met Barry Goldwater once.   It was 1964.   I was heading off to college but was eager to campaign, even though I could not vote.   For those who are not eligible for Medicare, let me remind you that until 1971 voting in Federal elections was reserved for those 21 years old.   I was 17 when I met Sen. Goldwater.   He shook my hand, proceeded to give a spectacular speech at the Denver , Colorado civic arena, and I was hooked.   At first it was just the excitement of being a Goldwater Girl.   As I became more involved I decided politics was a great national sport.   As I got older—and wiser—it became government that I loved.               I do admit to growing up in a politically involved family.   Mom was a Republican, Dad a part-time Democrat; politics was served at every meal and the only rule was you had to keep one foot on the floor.   The result of this early training and Goldwater excitement was an adult who loves the political machinations that make this country a working unit

What are you planning to do Tuesday, November 8 at around 7:30 p.m. (CST)?   You might want to look up.   In the night skies over your head an asteroid will be coming closer to the Earth than the moon itself.   Asteroid 2005 YU55 is the largest close-approaching asteroid on record.   Essentially, it will be a passing between the orbit of the Earth and the moon.   This is the astronomical equivalent of a bow shot.               This asteroid is not going to hit the Earth.   That is good.   Both asteroids and meteors have hit the Earth before.   The extinction of the dinosaurs was precipitated by an asteroid hitting near the Yucatan Peninsula in Mexico about 65 million years ago.   One hundred years ago an asteroid exploded in the atmosphere above Tunguska in Russia , leveling 2000 square kilometers of Siberian forest.   Meteor Crater, just off I-40 near Winslow , Arizona , was formed 50,000 years ago when a part of an asteroid traveling 26,000 miles per hour hit the Earth.   As the