Opinions

Before continuing this diary, I’d like to remind readers that 99 percent of the time this column does not center around boogers and/or other bodily functions normally not talked about in polite company. Occasionally however, these subjects cannot be avoided, hence the one percent that may make some readers think, “Oh, gross!” This is one of those columns, so stop here if you’re uncomfortable when it comes to graphic discussions of various bodily functions.
Notes from Benders Fishing Camp, Day 2:
Bowel movements are the talk of the camp this morning.

I turned on the television just in time to catch the Big Race at the Kentucky Derby. The horses were being saddled, the jockeys, in their bright jerseys were posed for an official photo, and the band was tuning up to play “My Old Kentucky Home,” the official state song. The camera panned across faces in the crowd, showing more than one race-goer shedding a sentimental tear as they sang those much-loved words written by Stephen Foster.
Even though I’ve never been near Kentucky, I found myself feeling sentimental, too, though for a quite different reason.

We almost put Pearl down recently.
Born into a cage at a puppy mill, the first time in her life she set foot on grass didn’t come until she was six months old. We let her off leash in our backyard hoping she’d bound about. Instead, she found a leafy cave under a bush by a wall, crawled in, curled up and shivered.
With a little TLC from Sabra, our friends Curt and Sue and me, she took a few tentative steps that afternoon. We played cards on the patio not far from her and eventually she dared a peek. From then until now her progress has been an eight-year slog.

I’ve been getting ready for my second annual fishing trip to northern Minnesota and the Bender’s fishing camp.
Been there a half-dozen times, but last year was so much fun I decided to go every year.

Sometimes I think this column should be called Bik’n instead of Walk’n as I do much more of the former and less of the latter each year. The change is brought on by physical problems, gout and sciatica to be specific. As I age, my attention span becomes shorter and biking more accurately reflects how my thoughts flit about to different topics.
Besides, I’ve started a new company, Orange Hat Bicycle Touring. I could kill two birds with one stone by telling you about upcoming rides like the one to see the Cedar Rapids Kernels the weekend of June 27 and 28.