Spirituality and Culture

Dresbach, Minn. has been the backdrop for a tragedy for one Hmong family. A father, mother, and their two children went missing. Presumably now dead from drowning, a search for the bodies has been underway since Saturday.

Earlier this week, Hmong elders from the community along with family members performed a ceremony asking the deities in control of the waters to release the bodies.

Reading the story, I recalled my time working at Steve's Park Amoco (now BP) in Saint Louis Park. After working for there for two years after school daily, I was delighted to meet the new mechanic "Neal." We would soon come to know "Neal" as "Nhia." He was Hmong and soon after his hire, his nephew (of the same age) Meng began work.

The years that followed were marked with a heightened awareness to Hmong culture. Arriving with consistent frequency from Laos, Thailand, and Cambodia, the Hmong population has its roots in the mountains and foothills of Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam (Hmong literally translated means "hill"). During the US "conflict" in Vietnam, they were instrumental in their military aid and intelligence to the US. And in turn, we opened our doors.

In general, the Hmong population has assimilated (remove negative connotation with that word for cynics) very well. Learning English is considered paramount amongst the other pursuits for Hmong immigrants. Many go to college. Many are now working in government, and some even holding public office.

Back to my point. Major events in one's life are often accompanied by a ceremony to demarcate the occasion for posterity. We have weddings and funerals and the same is true for the Hmong population. With so many things in life, it's not the bigger picture that generates thoughtful conversation. The little things do. I noticed Nhia's bracelets. They appeared very much like the bracelets we wove in summer park programs.

He said they were for luck. They guarded against negative spirits and invited positive forces into his life. Then, in my infinite wisdom of twenty-something, I asked him "So do you really believe in all that stuff?" He was polite in his response: "It works if you believe."

Today, one of the bodies in the Mississippi River was recovered.

Buses, Cars, and Bikes

I have three options when I wake up in the morning. The bus picks my groggy backside up less than three blocks from my house and takes on average about twenty minutes. My lonely car usually sits a block from my home and with parking and walking to work, takes roughly twenty minutes also. And then there's my new bike, found on Craigslist two weeks ago. Though I've been struggling to replace certain parts and adjust others, I'm finding that it takes an astounding twelve minutes door-to-door.

There's considerable savings in this as well. Round trip the bus is usually four dollars a day. Parking, with gas, probably works out to ten or twelve dollars a day. Biking is free monetarily.

Here's the rub: staying alive. Though the biking infrastructure in this town has merit, it's terribly underdeveloped. And I don't quite have the deftness or experience (and perhaps absurdity) to ride alongside the cars on the road.

I find my way though. Braking for blind entrances and driveways, intersections, and for pedestrians, I manage to stay alive. But the truth is, I'm often reminded of riding my motorcycle years ago. There are a great number of drivers (in cars) who seem to brush off the presence of motorcyclists and bikers as if they were simply a nuisance. It's really frustrating. They want to go fast and be somewhere. They feel safe and secure enclosed in a vehicle.

I'm out there all alone! And then a biker passes me and reminds me that we're growing in number, slowly reclaiming our lane and letting everyone know, if you run us over, I hope you have an umbrella policy, because we'll hire any number of Minneapolis attorney's salivating at the sight of a vehicle/biker altercation.

Mike Ceresi, thanks for the unintentional protection.

Hatching a Reputation

In my young history of political involvement, I recollect the power with which Mike Hatch, former Attorney General of Minnesota, wielded. Like any well-intentioned Attorney General, he was an ardent consumer-advocate, fighting commercial and personal level scams that attacked the ignorant, the weak, and often, the average Minnesotan.

As he resigned his high-level post a couple of weeks ago, a post established for him to facilitate the transition from his tenure into the new Attorney Generals, Lori Swanson, he leaves behind a sterling reputation polka-dotted with indelible failures.

He attacked insurance companies. He's the reason why I was asked where I wanted my driver's side window fixed when some punk from Edina threw a Hornets' hockey puck through it in February 2006 (Lou Park represent!).

He attacked solicitors. My friend's mother would often fight the telemarketers, or the credit card companies and their constant barrage of mail. She kindly wrote back letters informing each company she was not interested and wanted to be removed from any "lists." under normal circumstances, she would have fallen on deaf ears. But she knew this, and in a calculated move of brilliance, placed at the bottom of each letter "cc: Mike Hatch, Minnesota Attorney General."

She never heard from them again.

I think history will treat Hatch with respect. They will note his failures, and purported favoritism, perhaps cronyism, in handling the Attorney General's office during his tenure. But then again, to beat the bad guys, you have to know them pretty well too. And boy did he beat them.

Wyatt Earp and His Cousin at Legends Bar & Grill

The Minneapolis-St Paul Star-Tribune reports this morning of a story involving a police officer and his cousin (the former on duty in plain clothes and the other, his cousin, a community police liaison) having a delightful cup of coffee.

As two armed men ominously emerged from the bathroom sporting the standard accoutrement of robbers (ski masks), Sgt. Bill Blake was crouched and ready to fire. His cousin reports he shouted "Police" to which the robbers responded by pointing their weapons at Sgt. Bill Blake.

Wyatt Earp never wanted any trouble. Just a clean town with legal gambling. And he was a hero because of his modesty (this prior to his revenge-fueled rampage after the OK Coral). Sgt. Bill Blake is no exception as he fired two rounds. One managed to shattered the gun in one robber's hand (this evidenced by fragments of the firearm found near the bar).

They fled. Sgt. Bill Blake chased them, only to return without them and in ultimate Samaritan fashion, make sure those in the restaurant were okay. One of the robbers actually turned himself in with minor injuries afterward.

Honestly, I still find it difficult to fathom that we allow free and open gun sales in this country. But there's a paradox here inescapable to either Democrat or Republican: what if the government decided to revoke your right to own one? Yes, we read stories more and less tragic than this one involving firearms, perhaps daily.

Arguably, we'd be reading such stories regardless of gun laws and ownership restrictions, but simply involving knives and other crude weapons (I read many of the English-language papers when abroad--it's just good daily reading yarn). By that same token, do we really know that? Just look to our cultural predecessors across the Atlantic. Their firearm laws are far more conservative than our laws. Yet there seems to be some nut who either owns an arsenal of freedom and the British authorities are removing the cache by the armful after arresting the bloke or an individual loses control over good sense and inhibition, locates a gun and rampages through a small town.

We're not alone in our problems. But when my younger brother in college is being asked why America is so violent and deadly by his Spanish language partner across the sea, he politely replies (in broken Spanish) that he has never seen a gun fired in person much less seen anyone shot.

My fear is not getting shot so much as it is when the government is at my front door saying "we repealed the Second Amendment. Hand over all your firearms." Though I won't have any to give them, I will certainly be terrified when the only people in our country with guns are government officials. I've seen that too. It's called Latin America.