Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

“Dust Bowl” conditions equal an unhappy taxpayer August 27, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:02 AM
Tags: , , , ,

DEAR CITY OF FARIBAULT Street Sweeper:

What are you doing today?

If you’re not busy sweeping dirt off the street and into houses, then I would like you to sweep the dirt out of my house and back onto the street.

You see, yesterday you drove by my home several times, stirring up clouds of dust so choking thick that I expected to see tumbleweeds following in your path.

Typically I would not complain. I’m happy to see dirt removed from the street.

But this time you crept past my house with complete disregard for the dirt carried on the wind directly into my open windows. Even though I raced to slam the windows shut, I was not quick enough. Every surface in my house is covered with a fine layer of grit.

Unkind words surface when I consider all of the cleaning that lies ahead of me.

What were you thinking when you failed to use water while sweeping the street? Is this an attempt to save money, trim the budget, cut costs?

I am no rocket scientist, but it seems to me that the simple act of spraying water onto the road surface would have prevented Dust Bowl-like conditions.

You are fortunate in one regard. I did not have freshly-laundered sheets on the clothesline. Had that been the case, you would find yourself not only sweeping and vacuuming my floors, washing my counters and dusting my furniture, but also doing my laundry.

Signed,

An Unhappy (cough, cough) Taxpayer

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

More than a sewing cabinet August 26, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 10:22 AM
Tags: , , ,

My "new" sewing cabinet from The Caswell-Runyan Co., Huntington, Ind.

I REALLY, HONESTLY, did not need the sewing cabinet I purchased for $30 at a recent yard sale. Although I have a sewing machine and once stitched nearly everything I wore, I don’t sew much any more.

But the rows of old tables lined up on both sides of the cement driveway lured me to look.

Once I saw the shiny Perfect Sewing Cabinet up close, I couldn’t resist its quaint charm—a lid that opens to reveal thread compartments, a curving front, dove-tailed drawers and unique golden knobs accented with amber heads. I already had visually placed the table in a corner of my dining room. With two drawers, it would be so much more practical than the tiny open-shelved table currently occupying that spot.

The cabinet lid lifts to reveal a compartment for thread and notions.

Craftsmanship is detailed in the dovetail drawer construction.

The original drawer pulls simply gleam.

But for $37, should I buy it? Should I walk away? Pay. Walk. What about that promise to start down-sizing, de-cluttering? Hadn’t my husband and I just returned from the recycling center where we dropped off an old TV, a printer, and a computer monitor and tower?

“Will you take less for it?” I ask the old guy running the sale.

To my surprise, he’ll take $30.

Still, I ask him to “keep my name on it” as I walk further up the driveway, perusing the merchandise while struggling to justify my purchase.

Then I just do it. I open my purse and pull out a $20 bill and two fives and the table is mine.

But I don’t simply walk away. I need to know where this peddler of tables has gotten his goods.

He finds furniture at yard, garage and rummage sales and then refinishes the pieces, he explains. He does magnificent work. Every tabletop shines with a glossy, flawless finish.

Then I learn a bit more. This elderly man (whose name I never do ask), says he rummages all the way to the Veterans Administration Medical Center in Minneapolis, where he’s been doctoring for years.

“World War II?” I ask.

His military time, he says, came between WW II and the Korean Conflict. He was stationed in Alaska, where he injured his back. He’s had numerous surgeries and has a leaky heart valve. But they won’t replace the valve, he says, because during his last heart bypass surgery, doctors had trouble restarting his heart.

And then he tells me that his wife has cancer.

“I’m sorry,” I say, amazed at what people will share because I take the time to genuinely listen. He assures me that she is doing OK.

Then I thank him, wish him well. Randy loads the cabinet from The Caswell-Runyan Co. of Huntington, Indiana, into the back of our van. Then we are on our way with a table that is now more than a piece of furniture. It is also a story of a veteran and a craftsman and a husband whose wife is battling cancer.

A label from The Caswell-Runyan Co. is inside the sewing cabinet lid.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Bette, a button bedecked art car in Northfield August 25, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 5:45 PM
Tags: , , , , , ,

MARY BARBOSA-JEREZ doesn’t mind if you touch her car. But I kept my hands off her 1989 Toyota Corolla Saturday afternoon in Northfield.

I simply didn’t feel comfortable touching a car that has a name—Bette—and is a work of art.

Allow me to backtrack for a minute. My husband and I had just said goodbye to friends we met for lunch when Randy tells me, “Look at that car.”

Wow, I would have stated “LOOK AT THAT CAR!” in bold-face, uppercase letters with an exclamation point.

This car, which is covered with buttons, stands out from any other parked along Division Street in downtown Northfield. Immediately, I pull out my camera, drop my camera bag onto the sidewalk and start circling the Corolla, snapping photos.

Pedestrian-stopping car, view 1

Passenger-side doors on pedestrian-stopping car.

Backside of pedestrian-stopping car

I figure if I linger long enough, the owner may just show up. After several false hopes—meaning I asked numerous passersby if they owned the vehicle—Mary arrives and informs me that this is her car, an “art car.”

I begin peppering Mary with questions and she is eager to answer them. She bought the car in 2007 and for the past year has been transforming it into a work of art. The St. Olaf College librarian says she is making a statement about saving things, reuse, consumption and accumulation.

“It’s deconstruction of our cultural obsession of automobiles,” she continues. For awhile this former Louisville, Kentucky, resident, who moved to Northfield two years ago, considered doing without an automobile. But she couldn’t and bought the Corolla for $800 from the car’s first and only owners and then named it Bette after a 90-year-old friend of theirs. Bette, she tells me, was an unusual woman who was well-traveled and lived into her 90s.

The name now seems perfectly fitting for this unusual button car.

Beautiful 21-year-old Bette, the art car

Mary initially bought 10 one-gallon bags of plain buttons from a Louisville fabric store that was cleaning out attic space to begin her art project. But since then, the buttons have come from friends and those (mostly women) who see her car.

“It has become like a quilt,” she says, as we examine the infinite buttons adhered with exterior silicone caulk. “It’s a way to meditate and contemplate about women’s lives.”

Buttons, buttons and more buttons beautify Bette.

One of the more unusual buttons is a deer button.

How many buttons? Mary doesn’t know. She knows, however, that it takes her one hour to affix buttons onto a six-by-six inch area. So progress is slow, hampered even more by Minnesota weather. While Mary owns a garage, the interior temperature fails to rise high enough for button adhesion in the winter.

That doesn’t discourage her, nor does the fact that “you lose buttons always.”

Mary has driven Bette between Northfield and Louisville many times and tells me that art cars are common in Louisville, but not so much in Minnesota.

She’s happy to talk about her project and the statement she’s making about turning an item associated with status into a piece of art.

Mary really doesn’t mind either if you touch her car. In fact, she is amused when a button falls off into an unsuspecting hand. “I’ll see them stick it in their pocket as they scuttle away,” she laughs.

But on this day I’m not touching Bette, just photographing her. And I’m thinking, out loud to Mary, that my family’s 1988 hail-pocked van might make a perfect art car.

On Bette's front, Mary placed one of the few buttons she has purchased, a handcrafted nursery rhyme button.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A message from an “Angry American Voter” August 23, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:37 AM
Tags: , , , , , ,

WHAT’S THE STORY behind this billboard along Minnesota Highway 60 just northeast of Lake Crystal? Do you know? I photographed the sign about 10 days ago.

I doubt I’ve ever seen a more strongly-worded billboard.

Who is this “Angry American Voter”?

Is it you? Is it some of us? Most of us?

No matter the identity of the vocal voter, the opinionated message is clearly aimed at government.

And whether you agree or disagree, you have to agree that we are fortunate to live in a country where we can freely vote and freely express our opinions right there, along the busy highway, for all to read.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

One elephant for sale August 21, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 11:19 PM
Tags: , , , , , , ,

SEE THIS LOVELY, LOVELY HOUSE. I’ve always admired this old brick home set atop a hill along a central Faribault street. With the inviting front porch, the fence, the arbor, the flowers, well, it pretty much has everything I appreciate in a place that exudes charm and character.

Ron and Peggy's beautiful house and yard

Ron and Peggy live here. Lucky them. But some day they expect to move and that means down-sizing. So this weekend they’re having an estate sale. Lucky buyers. The antique furniture and collectibles, old paintings, Peggy’s artwork, and even an old hair dryer, are tagged to sell. (Note to those of you who know that I love old dressers: I did not purchase one although I was tempted.)

But then I discovered the find of the day—an elephant. Yes, Ron and Peggy own an elephant.

Now this isn’t your regular circus-type elephant because these aren’t circus-type folks. (Or at least I don’t think they are; I really don’t know them.) Rather, theirs is an elephant slide that once stood in a park in Ron’s hometown of Winsted.

Ron and Peggy's elephant slide

As Ron and Peggy tell the story, Ron’s uncle, Florian, was the maintenance man in Winsted and 26 years ago called to ask if they wanted a slide. They did. And that’s how an elephant ended up in the back of their pick-up truck with motorists beeping their horns and, well, wondering about that elephant in the back of their pick-up truck.

Now after nearly three decades of elephant ownership, the couple is ready to sell the circus slide that provided hours of entertainment for their daughter, nieces and nephews.

Peggy points out the extra safety features—vertical bars placed between the five steps by a fretful Florian who worried about kids sticking their heads or feet between the open stairs.

Steps on the elephant slide with vertical bars added by Uncle Florian.

Decades ago she repainted the paint-worn slide to its original colors, even though she didn’t know the original colors at the time. But it could use a fresh coat of paint again.

And, Peggy insists, “It needs a yard. It needs kids.”

So folks, here’s your chance to own an honest-to-goodness elephant that won’t eat a ton of peanuts or stomp around your yard or run away with the circus.

Step right up! See this rare and exotic 1950s elephant slide (which originally sold for $235 and was made in Gunnell, Iowa) from the Miracle Equipment Company. Today it can be yours, all yours, for only $750!

Slide down the trunk of Ron and Peggy's Miracle elephant.

SERIOUSLY, IF YOU ARE interested in purchasing this elephant slide, submit a comment with your contact information and I will pass it along to Ron and Peggy. Please note that I do not work for the Miracle Equipment Company nor do I have part ownership in a circus.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

PEACHES and cheese and Splitladder Syder August 20, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 12:33 PM
Tags: , , , , , , ,

IF I HAD TO NAME my favorite fruits, I would choose blueberries, strawberries and peaches.

So you can imagine my excitement upon glimpsing a PEACHES sign while traveling along Minnesota Highway 60 near Lake Crystal last Saturday morning. Unfortunately my husband and I were on a tight schedule and were heading away from that tempting sign.

Welsh Heritage Farms Apple Orchard & Pie Shop near Lake Crystal

Fast forward to the early evening hours when, upon our return trip, I remembered that PEACHES place just in time for Randy to veer into the right turn lane.

I’m so glad I made that split-second decision to stop. We discovered not only juicy Missouri peaches at Welsh Heritage Farms, but a plethora of other goodies inside the double red pole sheds. Heritage Farms, a family-owned business which advertises itself as an apple orchard and pie shop, is that and much more.

I eyed the apple crisp and apple butter, the mustard, the honey and the soup mixes among the many offerings. I tasted the apple cider donuts and almost gave in to hunger pangs. But I stuck to the healthy peaches and Michigan blueberries. Well, not quite, as you will read.

Tempting Welsh Heritage Farms cider donuts

Honey from Harris Honey Company in nearby Madelia

Country style buckets for the in-season peaches

Missouri peaches for the picking from the peach wagon.

NEXT TO THE MAIN BUSINESS sits another building, Harbo Cider Winery and Cheese Shop. We were directed there by Pamela Harbo, Welsh Heritage Farms co-owner/operator. Her son, Tim, runs the business. For a cheese-lover like me, this equates cheese heaven.

Harbo Cider Winery & Cheese Shop next to Welsh Heritage Farms

Tim carries 47 varieties of cheese, all of which (if I recall) hail from Wisconsin. Yes, I felt a moment of disloyalty to Minnesota cheese makers. But that didn’t stop me from sampling several cheeses and purchasing Henning’s Blueberry Cobbler Cheddar—a white cheddar marbled with blueberries—and Hook’s Blue Paradise ™ Cheese, the creamiest blue cheese I’ve ever tasted. (My apologies to the Swiss Valley Farms Cooperative of Iowa which recently purchased Faribo Dairy, my community’s maker of outstanding Amablu and Amablu St. Pete’s Select blue cheeses.)

Of course, along with that cheese, we needed a little wine, or hard cider. Unfamiliar with hard cider, I asked Tim for an explanation as I sipped. Hard cider is made from pressed and fermented apples and was once this country’s most popular alcoholic beverage, he tells me. Think apple trees and Prohibition.

Splitladder Syder. Love that name.

Surprisingly, Tim’s 6.5 percent alcohol content Splitladder Syder, tastes nothing like apples, but similar to a dry white wine. He was the first in Minnesota to produce the hard cider for sale, he says.

While I didn’t buy any hard cider, I would recommend it as a fine accompaniment to cheese.

I would also recommend pulling off highway 60 between Mankato and Lake Crystal to check out Welsh Heritage Farms and Harbo Cider Winery and Cheese Shop. You might want to watch for an APPLES sign, though, as the season transitions from Missouri peaches to Minnesota apples.

The entry to Welsh Heritage Farms Apple Orchard & Pie Shop.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Celebrating words and art in Paul Bunyan land August 19, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 9:39 AM
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Paul Bunyan's sweetheart, Lucette Diana Kensack

I’VE BEEN INVITED to Hackensack, home of Paul Bunyan’s sweetheart. Lucette Diana Kensack lives (or technically, stands) along the shores of Birch Lake next to a quaint 1930s log cabin that is the Hackensack Lending Library.

The lakeside of the Hackensack Lending Library. To the left stands Lucette.

Just down the road along First Street sits a sweet, pink fairy tale cottage.

Unfortunately, I’m not traveling to Hackensack, which lies midway between Brainerd and Bemidji and marks the half-way point on The Paul Bunyan Trail. I was just in Hackensack last summer and another trip that far north is not on the schedule. But if it was, I tell you, I would want to stay at that Hansel and Gretel cottage. (I don’t care that it’s a private home.)

I discovered the fairy tale cottage while visiting Hackensack last summer.

Instead, I’ll be back here in southern Minnesota awaiting results of a poetry competition. You see, some time ago I submitted two poems for possible display at The Northwoods Art Festival and Book Fair in Hackensack from 10 a.m. – 4 p.m. on Saturday, August 28.

Recently I learned that both my poems were selected for display and are vying, like all the chosen poems, for “Works of Merit” designation by long-time Brainerd poet Doris Stengel. The visiting public will also vote for their six favorites as “Popular Choice” award winners. As far as I know, no cash prizes are made. Rather the prize lies in peer and/or public recognition.

I would love to tell you which of the untagged poems are mine. But since I don’t want to be accused of voter fraud, illegal lobbying or some other such poetic “crime,” I have sworn myself to secrecy. I’m quite certain that revelation of my poems’ titles could lead to disqualification.

That disclaimer aside, if you’re in the Hackensack area on August 28, check out the arts festival and specifically the poetry display at the Union Congregational Church. Minnesota writers and illustrators will be at the church signing and selling their books. At 1:30 p.m., the award winners will be announced and display poets can read their poems.

But there’s more to this fest than the written word. You also will find artists who work in paint, clay, metal, wood, fiber and photography. Throw in food and music and you have a genuine Paul Bunyan-worthy Minnesota festival.

Come to think of it, perhaps I should have penned a poem about Paul Bunyan.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Could sauerkraut juice treat a bad case of itchy feet? August 18, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 9:17 AM
Tags: , , , ,

I HADN’T INTENDED to publish another health post today. Honestly. But then I never planned to suffer from a severe case of itchiness either.

My feet look like a minefield of scratched open bug bites. And they could be—chigger bites. Or so I thought. Yesterday, my physician seemed to be leaning toward poison ivy, or even poison oak, as he diagnosed contact dermatitis.

Whatever label is tacked onto my current condition doesn’t really matter, he added, because all would be treated with a prescription corticosteroid ointment to reduce itching, redness and swelling.

Uh, huh. After two applications, I still had itching, redness and swelling. I was anticipating immediate relief.

WARNING: If you are squeamish, please scroll down. Due to inheriting crooked toes from my maternal grandfather, my feet are not pretty under normal circumstances. But then add a case of poison ivy or chiggers, or whatever I have, and they are less attractive. As you can see, I scratched and scratched and scratched some more. I could not help myself. I started counting the welts and stopped at 25.

Last night I even sought out advice from a local pharmacist, who, after I asked, told me that a prepackaged oatmeal bath treatment would be a waste of my money. Instead, he steered me to an over-the-counter antihistamine. Reluctant to use this allergy medication, I purchased it anyway, quite confident that I would not need the product.

When I arrived home with my package of magic pills, my husband Randy advised me to keep the receipt. He knows me well. I wasn’t ready to pop any antihistamine tablets.

Instead, I tried soaking my feet in a cool baking soda bath, which did nothing except make my feet wet.

As bedtime approached, along with the prospect of an itchy, sleepless night, that antihistamine was sounding more doable. Yet, I resisted, applied the corticosteroid ointment and went to bed.

Ninety minutes later, still awake and crazy with itchiness, I was now ready to swallow the allergy medication that promised to stop the itching and make me drowsy. But first, I tried the baking soda bath again, hoping it would work the second time around. It didn’t.

Off to bed with the antihistamine infiltrating my system, the intense itching finally stopped. But the drowsy quotient of the drug failed.

This morning I arose around 6:30 after a mostly sleepless night. My feet still look like a war zone. But the itchiness, for the most part, has subsided.

But, if it returns, I’m prepared.

At the height of my itchiness yesterday, when I was nearly in tears, Randy asked, “What would your grandma do?”

I thought for a moment. “Sauerkraut.”

Quick to inject humor into the situation, he advised that I stomp sauerkraut. But then he offered a second suggestion: “Apply a horseradish paste.”

DEAR READERS, how have you dealt with contact dermatitis caused by chigger bites (unlikely in my case), poison ivy (likely, although I have not tromped through the woods, but have walked through strangers’ and friends’ yards, sat around two campfires and been in a cow pasture recently) or poison oak (whatever that may be)?

Have you tried sauerkraut juice, horseradish paste or some other home remedy? Please e-mail your suggestions by posting a comment. My feet are counting on you for relief.

Just in case you wanted another angle of my pock-marked foot, here you go. I tried to photograph my right foot, but gave up. It doesn't look quite as bad as the left. But it's still awful-looking and now sports one water blister.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A closer look at whooping cough, including my story August 17, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:19 AM
Tags: , , , , ,

FIVE YEARS AGO, I earned the distinction of becoming my physician’s first adult whooping cough patient in his 30-plus year career.

I still remember that day when I perched on the examining table, so exhausted from my coughing fits and a subsequent lack of sleep that I could barely function. Five weeks earlier my doctor had diagnosed bronchitis. When I wasn’t getting any better, I returned and he gave me the same diagnosis. But now, on this third visit with my condition steadily deteriorating, I wanted answers.

Then I coughed.

For my doctor, that was a profound moment. He didn’t even hesitate. “I think you have whooping cough,” he blurted, then soon left the room to consult with another physician.

I don’t recall exactly how I responded, but I remember thinking that whooping cough couldn’t possibly exist in 2005.

How very wrong I was about that assumption. Today, five years after I struggled with this debilitating illness that invaded my lungs and throat, causing persistent coughing fits, a severe sore throat, asthmatic type attacks and a resulting inability to sleep, the disease continues to infect, and even kill.

California, if trends continue, is expecting more pertussis (whooping cough) cases in 2010 than it’s seen in 50-plus years, according to the California Department of Public Health. As of August 10, those numbers stood at 2,774 reported cases, including seven deaths among infants. The cases represent a seven-fold increase from the 395 reported during the same period in 2009.

Naturally, I wondered how Minnesota compares. According to statistics from the Minnesota Department of Health, as of July 16, there had been 395 cases reported. The report notes that the state is near the end of an outbreak that began in 2008.

In my home county, Rice, three cases of the disease have been recorded in 2010. The majority of infections are, as I would expect, in the more heavily-populated counties of Hennepin (75 cases), Wright (60), Dakota (52) and Ramsey (40).

But statistics really don’t matter if you’re the one with whooping cough. I remember the follow-up phone call from my physician who delivered the news that pertussis is known as “the 100-day cough.” He wasn’t kidding.

And he wasn’t kidding that he really couldn’t do anything for me. The disease would have to run its course—for me from early July until after Labor Day—and my body would need to heal on its own. Antibiotics help only early on in either preventing whooping cough or diminishing the severity of a case. The pertussis bacteria die off naturally after three weeks of coughing.

My entire family received a regiment of antibiotics with my husband and my second daughter both developing whooping cough, albeit much milder than mine.

Whooping cough, I can undeniably tell you, should be taken seriously. If you are an adult, or a teen, and haven’t been vaccinated since childhood, listen up. By age 10 or 12, you are no longer protected by that childhood vaccine. I was 48 years old when I developed pertussis. I’ll never know how I contracted the disease, but it’s highly-contagious. Infants are especially vulnerable.

Ironically, in the same year I became ill, new vaccines for adolescents and adults were approved. With widespread immunization, pertussis can become an illness of the past.

Within my own family, whooping cough claimed the life of my Aunt Deloris. On May 10, 1935, Deloris Edna Emilie Bode, second-born daughter of Lawrence and Josephine, died of pertussis, pneumonia and a gangrene-type infection of the mouth at the age of nine months and nine days.

Whenever I think of Deloris, I nearly weep at the thought of that beautiful baby girl wracked with uncontrollable coughing fits, struggling to breathe, fighting to live. I will feel forever linked to her by whooping cough, the 100-day cough, and today a preventable disease.

(The national Centers for Disease Control and Prevention has designated August as National Immunization Awareness Month.)

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Plaid in Paradise August 13, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 10:29 AM
Tags: , , , , , ,

I KNEW HE REALLY didn’t want to attend the show. I’ve been married to my husband long enough (28 years) to gauge his interest.

So when I asked Thursday evening at the supper table whether he wanted to go to Forever Plaid by The Merlin Players at the Paradise Center for the Arts, I didn’t expect (and didn’t get) an “Oh, yeah, I can’t wait to see the play,” jumping-up-and-down reaction. Randy isn’t that sort of emotional guy.

I purposely failed to mention one little fact to him. Forever Plaid is a musical. If I want Randy to attend a musical production with me, I won’t let the “m” word slip from my tongue. That’s almost a guarantee that he’ll balk at attending.

But apparently he’s caught on to my lack of full disclosure. As we settled into our seats, among the few remaining for Thursday evening’s nearly sold-out performance, I turned to him: “Oh, I didn’t tell you this is a musical.”

“I thought so,” he said.

The Paradise Center for the Arts theatre during last summer's production of South Pacific.

For the next 90-plus minutes we listened to Forever Plaid, a quartet of actors/singers, croon and belt out songs from the 1950s and 1960s in a high-energy show. From “Chain Gang” to “Love Is a Many Splendored Thing” to “She Loves You,” these guys could sing and dance and move in nearly perfect unison. What a show. They made me tired simply watching them perform, and sweat.

They also made me smile, non-stop. After awhile I realized that I had been smiling from the moment the quartet, and their back-up band, set foot on the Paradise stage. It’s that kind of musical.

I especially enjoyed their three-plus minute interpretation of The Ed Sullivan Show. The Plaid Boys zipped on and off the stage as jugglers, ventriloquists, a singing nun and more representative of the Sunday night television variety program. Wow, that brought back memories.

Mostly, though, Forever Plaid, the story of a male quartet killed in a tragic accident and come back to life for the performances of their lives, entertained me. And isn’t that what theater is, should be?

I just have one little confession. I dislike plaid—really, really, really dislike plaid.

Plaid, no favorite of mine, and the reason I couldn't print this photo in a larger size, although this plaid is more subdued and OK with me, as far as plaids.

#

The Merlin Players will present two more productions of Forever Plaid at 7:30 p.m. on August 13 and 14 at the historic Paradise Center for the Arts at 321 Central Avenue in historic downtown Faribault.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling