Kellen,  being the bright young boy that he was, could see that his Father was in need of rest.  Kellen had witnessed the struggle  his Father  had with cancer.  He saw the debilitating regime of chemo and radiation treatments that his father went through in order to battle his cancer.  Those treatments are what is effecting his Father at this moment.  He knows his Father is not joking.

“Sure,  we have all day.  Let’s head back to the Post Office and sit a spell.   We can continue on from there.”  he responded in words that  belied his youthful age.

Standing on the corner together they turned to the west to walk the short city block to the Post Office.  Kellen taking stock of his father’s condition.  Trying to gage the strength that his Father has in order to keep himself erect.  Kellen had many days when he could do nothing but watch his Father rest.  He learned to be protective of his fathers condition.  Although proud and strong as his Father may be,  Kellen knew that his efforts did not go unnoticed by his Father through those years. In fact they both new it bonded them for an eternity.

“There is no need to hurry, Father.”  he said as he consciously slowed the fast pace that his father had initially set by linking his right elbow to Kirk’s left elbow. They began walking arm in arm.  ”We have the rest of our lives plus the feeling wave.  I think that is special, Father?

With the pace slowed they gaze west toward the post office.  They could see the baseball park of the Inwood off in the distance.  The sun was low in the western sky blocked by the white barn owned by Mr.Scholten just past the old railroad right of way on the western outskirts of town just a few blocks ahead.  With the street protecting them from the wind the bright setting sun still has some warmth for the old bones of the Father.  Both Kellen and the sun had warming effect on Kirk.  One from the inside out and the other from the outside in.

Kellen’s thoughts go back to when he was five.  His Father had been home for five months since his seasonal layoff from construction work in Alaska.  Kellen really enjoyed the walks to school with his Father each day.  Then his Father would return at noon to walk him home again.  It was nice to have his father home.  He had overheard his parents discussing his fathers return to seasonal employment in to Alaska.  This was not a subject that he liked to hear.  That means he will be gone again for six months.  He tries to understand the reasons but it is somehow lost to the youth in understanding as to why his father could not do his road building in the state of Texas instead of Alaska?

On many days they would play video games together on computers.  The young son did more teaching then the young father.  It mattered not to them.  The elder was lost in the feeling wave with out knowing that his young son was preparing for the same gift that Kirk was enjoying.  God has his plan and is using the feeling wave to do his bidding.

Kellen steadies his father as they walk towards the post office.  This is not the first time that something like this has occured.  He goes back to his first boy scout weekend camp out.  Seven years old is the age for a Tiger entering the Cub Scouts.  The whole winter spent attending the weekly  den meeting making ready with badges, ribbons, and awards all giving testament that the young man had fulfilled the requirements to cross over to the next level called Webelos.

It was about six months after ending Kirk’s treatments for tongue cancer when this campout weekend was to occur.  Kirk had lost about 180 pounds and  had yet to swallow anything other than water and medication.  A food peg had been placed in the abdomen of Kirk.  He was subsisting on liquid protein.  It made him quite sick each time it was administered so Kirk was reticent to use the product.  Consequently his progress was slowed dramatically because of this.  Despite the weakening effects Kirk mustered up enough strength to load the pickup with camp goods for the over night trip.

The camp ground itself is quite an affair.It is called Tehuaya.  It is east of the city limits of Belton, Texas.  It covers over eighty acres of Texas hill country land donated to the Boy Scouts of Texas by a rich oil man years ago.  There are meandering streams running through the property. The tree laden land has a complex set of trails used to explore the caves, cabins, and other out buildings from a earlier time in Texas history.  It is quite the experience for an adult.  It is a veritable treasure to the mind of a seven year old.

Kellen remembers driving up to the camp ground in the old black chevy truck.  His father was so proud of the old black truck.  Together they would spends hours cleaning and washing the truck.  Kellen did the wheels.He liked shiny wheels.  Kellen knew for sure that the truck was shiny that day as they drove into the parking lot of  Camp Tehuaya.  He and his father had seen to it that very morning prior to arrival.

Aware that his strength would be limited Kirk instructed Kellen to find the scout leader, Ms. Mary, to ascertain the area designated for his cub scout pack.  Kellen was up to the task and soon returned with useful information and a half a dozen little cub scouts.  With an excited voice he exclaimed, “I found them Daddy.  I found them.  Ms. Mary is right behind me.  Can I go and play with my friends!  PLEASE!”

“Hold on, Buddy.’ he said . ‘We need a little more information before you go off and play. I will talk with Ms. Mary and get an itinerary for the day before we get separated, alright?”

Ms.Mary approached just as Kellen gave an exasperated shrug of acceptance.  ”Don’t worry, Kellen’, she said. ‘I heard what your Father said.   I have the situation well in hand.  I have the schedule of the days events right here in my hand.  We can get you and your Father situated very quickly if you remain patient while we discuss what you and your Father need to do.”  Kellen and the rest of the Cub scout pack members, not wanting to slow the process,  went immediately to statue status replete with zipper motions for mouth closed, motions to signify eyes wide open, and  motions to signifying  ears on.  He and the rest of the boys had listened  while at pack meeting.  Their actions showed that they  knew what do do and how to show it when  Ms. Mary spoke.

“Thank you for coming out to meet me, Ms. Mary.  It sounds like you have everything well in hand.”  he said as they shook hands.

Ms.Mary was the den leader of the Pack.  She was married to an officer in the army who was deployed in Iraq .  Probably in her middle thirties.  Standing beside her was her son, Nick, was a member of the Boy Scouts.  He was fulfilling a requirement of the Boy Scouts by acting as a mentor to the cub scout boys.  He was five foot two and a little shorter than his mother but they share similar features.  Both had deep brown eyes with light brown hair.  Both were athletically thin.  The boy’s hair was cropped as if in the military with his mother sporting a bouncey pony tail for the day.  Both looked very official in their  scout uniforms.

Kellen and the other cub scout still standing at attention were beginning to become anxious.  Ms.Mary took charge of the boy’s and said, “Ok fellas, we need to pair up.  From now on we do not go any where with out a parent or a buddy.”

The cub scouts that were standing at attention soon looked at each trying to decide who to pair up with.  By the end of the pairing it was obvious that their would be an odd man out.  Once Kellen realized that there was going to be an odd man in this group he turned on his heel,  did an about face , and He ran towards his father with his angelic smile on his face and genuine youthful exuberance in his step and said. ” I am going to partner with you today, Dad!”

Not much needed to be said after that to Kirk.  Kellen spent the entire weekend with his father.  Listening to the stories that he now knows with out knowing because of his feeling wave gift .  Kellen is flitting from feeling wave to reality. For him to remember is not a feeling wave.  A feeling wave cannot be remembered but a remembered memory can be in a feeling wave.  Because of his Father,  Kellen can feel his first reality experience because his Father was there to experience it all at the same time.  Because Kellen experienced the Boy Scout campout with his father simultaneously  he cannot understand the feeling of knowing with out knowing why?  The gift of the Hage Clan gives knowledge to the feeling wave.  It does not have to explain a gift from God.  Merely accepting it is a requirement.  So going from reality to memory for Kellen because of his gift may soon become a problem?  Where is he now?  Who is he sharing his feeling wave with?wave?  Is this a reality memory or a feeling wave?    Can he feel a memory through a feeling wave?

Kellen is back to the present.  Kirk and Kellen are now standing on Main St. facing the Post Office.  Kellen can see the stroll through the streets has taken it toll on his father.  Lifting his fathers left hand with his and continueing to keep his right arm locked into his father’s left elbow he managed to bolster his father’s tired and weak step enough to get them across the street to the bench from which their stroll had started.

Tired but not unaware, Kirk has been feeling the wave that Kellen experienced as they walked the city block between the gym and the brown house that Sox Simmonsma owned.  Kirk was aware of the steady hand the young boy was providing.  To tired to speak he let the wave speak for him.  He was there to show Kellen the way on the day of his first Boy Scout camp.  So Kellen is feeling things through Kirk’s pride.  This pride changes the way people view events.  Kellen does not understand this at his young age.  The gift of the feeling wave will not teach him.  So when Kellen has a feeling wave with prideful feelings that are not of his choosing it is disconcerting if not uncomfortable if one does not accept it.  Acceptance without question is the only way that the feeling wave gift from God can be fully appreciated.

Kirk is using the wave to gather his strength.  Together at the bench both sit in time that has stopped as Kellen leaves reality and returns to the feeling wave of the boy Scout weekend.

When standing at the corner Kirk ponders the direction the he will choose.  To him each direction is to the future. All that is past is behind him.  Matters not the direction.  To the south leads to a new county.  The oil of the county road 180 changes at the stop sign on the south end of the city limits.  Connecting to a state road of concrete that travels to another city, county, and memory.  Those will be with Kellen.  The wave will do its appointed task.  ”To the south we will not go this date.” Kirk mumbled to no one in particular.

Turning to his left the road travels north past the old Lutheran parsonage.  Home of memorable preachers through out Kirk’s life.  Pastors Habel, Nyjus, and Roland to name a few.  Each with there moods and all of them with wonderful intentions.  Role models for the youthful Kirk’s upbringing.

Memories of living at the farmhouse four miles from this spot.  Nineteen years of family memories.  Great brothers, sisters, and parents.  Good food warm clothes, and clean sheets every Saturday afternoon.  Jumping into to a cold bed on the south side of the Lloyd Hage home farm place during the winter  is amemory that one should only have to experience once.  In his eyes this shivering moment is only eclipsed by the warm glow that resulted from the layers of warm blankets that his mother had carefully placed atop the crackling cold clean sheets from the afternoon session on the close line to dry.

ON one of those winters day it brings to mind a cold day during school the school year.  Supper had been served.  Consisting of fried eggs, bacon,  fresh baked bread, and enough left over boiled potatoes from the noon meal,  fried in the bacon grease that we had mounded on a serving platter, to soak up all the bacon grease as it fried.  ”Hmmm that was a good meal.” he murmured. Again, to no one in particular.

This was a typical meal for the day since Lloyd had entered into the world of chicken ranching.  Procuring hatched eggs from the Inwood Hatchery.  Taking the chicken from days old to two year olds.  After that butchering them for the house as well as for sale to the chicken packing plant.  Mom and Dad were anxiously finishing there meal with the family.  There was to be a church congregation meeting that night.  Being on time was important in the Hage household.  Dad would work outside doing the final chores.  He then would enter into the house through the porch entrance to the basement to hang his bibs above the steps that lead downstairs and place his shoes on the short two step entrance into the kitchen.  After he open the nicely finished solid oak door he would veer to his right and wash up at the sink positioned at the northwest corner wall of the new addition to the house.

Nothing was said at that evening meal.  The food was to good .  Kirk’s parents were on a mission to attend a church meeting so all the kids dug into their food and ate in silence.  Once Lloyd had completed his meal he scurried up the stairs to turn on the water for his bath.  The kids dispersed to the TV room as Leota gathered up and washed all the pots, pan and dishes after every meal.  Kirk  gave pause to the wave to appreciate jsut how much work his mother had done for him as a youth growing up.  IT embarrassed him to remember what was done for him and what he has done for his own son.  It pales in comparison.  Yet Kirk knows that he is doing what he can.  It does not seem to mitigate anything so he moves on with his memory.

About the time that Lloyd has finished his bath Leota heads up the stairs.  Seeing the coordination between the two showed a comfortableness that goes with a good marriage.  Each knew there task.  Moving from room to room and not running into each other.  No one questions what they would wear.  Leota outfitted in a nice dress.   Lloyd in his wool pants with short sleeved shirt.  Kirk marveled at how much was done in a matter of minutes.  Less than an hour precious the world was flurry of activity.  The chickens being fed.  The eggs being packed from the daily gathering.  Milking our small herd of cows.  Feeding the cattle.  Those things are now forgotten.  Lloyd and Leota are going to “church meeting.” Leaving the the two youngest boy’s Kirk and Karl home to fend for themselves the rest of the night.  Kirk remembers how Karl wanted popcorn like Mom makes.  Kirk knew then that it would never happen.  No one makes popcorn like Mom.  Kirk laughed at the thought.  The wave has taken Kirk to another place.

The feeling of a long lost evening  has brought to the Hage Clan wave to Kellen.  He scurries to the east towards his Father as he waits patiently for his son to be by his side.  Kellen is aware of his fathers thoughts and asked him through the felling wave, “Father, why is this date such a wonderful memory?”

Kirk did not have to formulate an answer for Kellen. He knew why and sent a feeling wave to Kellen so he would know.  His parents were not party goers.  They worked hard , enjoyed their life, and were part of the community.  They got up at the same time and went to bed at the same time.  If they said that they were going to do something…they did it.  So it was assumed that they would return from the church meeting by ten o’clock.  Ten thirty at the very latest.  At midnite the area TV stations all shut down for the day.  Kirk was sitting in the TV room watching test patterns awaiting the arrival of his parents. ” It was not like them to be out late. he thought.  ”Who do I call?  IT is winter.  It is cold.  There could have been an accident.  The variables grow with each thought, Kellen? ”

“How old were you at the time , Father?”  Kellen willed his  feeling wave to his Father.  Rather enjoying this intimate form of communication.

“I was 14 , Kellen.  I was going to confirmation class at the time.  My first year.    I had studied my confirmation class lesson that night.  Conrad Rolland was our Pastor. WIth it being midnight I was at a loss as to whom I should call?  We did not have 911 back in those days.  A call to the county sheriff  was out of the question.  This was not an emergency.  What would you do Kellen?  he willed back to his to his son who was approaching Kirk’s position from the east.

“IT is not fair of me to answer Father.  I have the feeling wave to lend me aide.  Please tell me so I need not remember but rather feel your thoughts. ”  Kellen implored.

“As you wish, Kellen.” Kirk said as he will his Hage clan wave to it s final end of this little story.  Kellen could see the church on county road 180.  A nice A-frame church with brick walls and a natural store hallway corridor separating the church from the south sloped mono sloped roof top of the fellowship hall.  ”Do you see what has happened, Kellen.” sharing his feeling wave image as if it were 3D TV” to Kellen.

“All the people are gone, Father?”  he said as Kellen tried to peer further into the wave feeling sent to him by his father.

“Yes,  that is true.  I was not possessed with such a gift as yours.  I did not have the advantages of the feeling wave as you do at such an early age.  You are being  spoiled by the gift.  I am glad of it!  I am toying with you, son.  For the feeling is there for the taking.  It is like a picture puzzle for you at this time.  Find the right size pieces, with the proper edge then place them together until the picture comes clear.  It is an easy task that is oft over looked.  I give you the advantage of my years so your gift can be complete.  Now look into my wave and tell me what I see.  Tell me how we feel through this feeling wave memory. ”  Kirk concentrated hard focusing on the parsonage and its residents.

“I see it father!  It is wonderful!  How can waves of feeling be so beautiful?  This is to much for my young brain to take in.  I see/ feel care and love.  This is coming from the parsonage.  There aren’t any Hage clan members in this house are there?” he tentatively asked his now lot in thought father.

” There aren’t any Hage clan members in this house, Kellen.  Though the memories of love and care are. Peer closer into the feeling.  Do yo not see a woman answering the phone at 12″30 at night?”  he said with a plaintive voice.

“Yes , Father.  I see her.” he said. “She is talking to you isn’t she?

“She certainly is.” he said with more warmth than usual.

“Oh, I am beginning to understand, Father!” he exclaimed.  You are talking to her becasuse Pastor Rolland was in bed and did not have a hearing aid on to speak with you.”

“Yes that is correct, Kellen.” Kirk said as he stopped in front of the house by the sidewalk next to the county highway 180.  You see I did not know what to do?  Pastor Rolland was the most honored of all men in my life being a man of God.  Who else would be better to call for aid than someone called to serve God?”  Do you see what happened next,  Kellen?”  he said,  still gazing at the front door of the parsonage.

I do see.  I do see!  SHe is telling you that Pastor Rolland will change into some winter clothes and head out to the farm post haste.  He drives to the farm 15 minutes later.  You greet him at the door.  IT looks as if you are beside yourself with worry?  What is your concern, Father?” Kellen’s youthful face showing the age lines that will grow in the years to comeas he asked.

“Kellen, had I waited 20 minutes to make the call to Pastor Rolland this whole experience would be nothing but a normal night in the life of the Hage family.  LLoyd and Leota living life, feeding their children and attending church meeting.  Yet on this cold wintery night a youthful son becomes worried of the plight of his parents.  Not knowing what had become of them he wondered why they were way past their curfew.  The winter’s snow blowing across the the dimly lit farm yard driveway by the 250 watt bulb of the yard pole merely added to the dreary thoughts that were filling the youthful teenagers head.  Pastor Rolland arrival was the beginning of a very embarrassing moment for me.”  he said to Kellen as his eyes started to form the famous tears of the Hage clan.

” No sooner had I related all of my concerns of the entire evening to Pastor Rolland did Lloyd and Leota come driving into the farm place.  I was relieved to see them but was at a loss as to what to say to Pastor Rolland.  As I was standing in the entry way when they entered the house I shrugged and shook my head.”

Lloyd took charge as he entered the house and greeted Pastor Rolland with a friendly smile and a warm handshake. “What seems to be the problem?”  he stated with a jocular air.

Pastor Rolland was the kindest of men and immediately realized that the youthful Kirk was merely concerned for the well being of his parents.  He explained to the parents that Kirk had called concerned as to where his parents had gone after the meeting? When the hour become late he called the parsonage.  I in turn arrived 15 minutes later.  I have not been here long enough for Kirk to even complete his story when you arrived here at the farm.  All is good now that you are home.  I shall return to the parsonage happy that every one is safe. ” he said with his unusually deep and gravelly voice.

Leota was standing to the side wringing her hanky as she listened.  Kellen and Kirk could see the relief on the parents face when told of why the preacher was in there house.  Lloyd after listening to the preacher merely shook his head.  Happy that this was a dry run.  Non the worse for wear.  Leota, with hankerchief in hand went to her young son and gave him a hug.  Kellen and Kirk both enjoying the warmth of the hug from the mother/grandmother in the feeling wave.  As she finished the hug with her son and without letting go of her son completely she looked upon the preacher and asked, “Pastor Rolland, now that you are here could I offer you some apple pie or a piece of chocolate cake to go with the coffee that I will make for you if you decide to accept.  It is the least that I could do!”

“Pastor Rolland was no fool, Kellen.” Kirk said.  ”Leota had a reputation for making some of the best sour cream chocolate cake in the county.  His penchant for cake was to much to deny and he accepted on the spot.  It went from there to a more jovial time.  Kirk relived that his parent were home.  The parents relieved that nothing serious had happend.  The preacher’s time assuaged just a little  by the easy charm and grace of a wonderful farm wife and Mother in the northwest corner of Iowa who happened to be a wonderful cook as well as host.

With in minutes the coffee was warming on the stove.  Conversations led to an explanation as to where Lloyd and Leota had gone after the meeting.  Apparently Mr. and Mrs Mike Holland, who lived a one half  mile to the south on County Road 180,  had invited them for coffee after the church meeting.  Several of the neighbors had been invited .  An impromptu party was hatched right there after the meeting.  With the storm blowing and the young boy at home worrying about his parent they were safe and sound with a neighbors enjoy good times and good friends

Kellen and Kirk stood in front of the parsonage on the sidewalk near County Road 180 both of them with tears in their eyes from the love that is between them and the sharing experience of the feeling wave.  Kirk re-living the experience from the real moment and Kellen from the memory.  Both are satisfying.  They smiled and moved forward  in synchronized step to the next corner to the North that crossed County Road 180.

The father and son stand.  Kirk looms over Kellen who happens to be taller than most kids his age.  Standing at six feet two inches Kirk is exactly a foot taller than his ten year old son.  Kirk knows that in a few summers he will need to gaze up to see the color of his sons eyes.  ”Let’s walk, son.” as Kirk swung to his right with a spritely step.  With Kellen soon to be in synchronized step with his Father. Both unconcsciously stepping over each crack in the side walk as they headed past the truck shop of the  Buttendyke Brothers.  Inside Harold Devaul was sitting on the old wooden school chair while Joe was giving him the latest news of the trucking world.

Harold was  a veteran, family man, businessman, and a part time trucker with Joe B. on the weekends.  Most times they would leave early Friday afternoon from the Inwood area with the red cabin-over International that had a sleeper behind the seats of the two passenger truck for Western South Dakota, Montana,  or Wyoming.  The tandem axel tractor was the pride of the fleet.  The International was the only tractor.  The had four strait trucks for short hauls and grain hauling.  The cabin-over tractor pulled a 40 foot double deck trailer with tandem axels.  Harold loved to tell any one who would listen how great it was to drive a truck that had twin screw (two powered  tandem axels) instead of a single axel or a pusher twin axel.  Joe was a slight built man but he had an answer to most anything.  Both of them seemed to be enjoying their day as Kellen and Kirk gazed into the picture window of the office.

Kirk noticed the reflection of the boarding house to the east in the office window of Joe B’s shop.  Beside the boarding house to the North was the old Inwood band room.  Many a Inwood residents used it as a practice room for their concerts.  Kirk’s generation used it as a Kindergarden room. The informational thoughts of the town and its residents give Kellen all the understanding that the Hage Clan feeling wave provides. Kirk’s thoughts are flowing through Kellen as they continue on their way past Inwood Furniture Store owned by Ken Dowdy, one of those radical Methodist.  They always had late church  A good Lutheran was shaking the preachers hand by 10:30,  at the coffee shop by 10:35, and reading the Des Moines Register by 10:40 with a hot cup of coffee  while waiting for the kids who were attending Sunday School.

Directly cross the street from the Inwood furniture store is the Inwood Hatchery.  The owner, Augie Piersma,  was a radical Dutchmen.  He converted to a Lutheran.  Most were glad he did.  His volunteer time with the Lutheran church was extensive.  He greeted the Lutheran kids of the Sunday school with a parable of life to coincide with the preacher sermon each sunday morning for many years.

Along side the Hatchery is another business owned by a Lutheran. H. D. Moen & Son.  It is a farm store for Case farm equipment.  It is a wonderland of tools, belts, and hydraulic fittings.  Herman,  the son of HD Moen,  ran the business with his brother Henry.  Such a wonderful man.  He would always ask the Hage boys how they were doing. “Pokey pete,’ he would say. How are you boys doing!  There were always people at the counter of this store.  The whole store was filled with honest  hard working individuals that were trying to live life.  Each with their own families but an integral part of the Hage Clan.   Kellen is feeling the wave and filling up with knowledge.  Of what use this will be is a mystery to Kellen?

Kellen makes his mind will a feeling wave to his Father not realizing that he has not bothered to speak.  ”Father, I am aware of the knowledge that you impart to me.  What good is this information?  It has to do with you and not me?” he said.

“Who is to say, Kellen?  It is what it is.  It is your gift.” Kellen’s father responded as he continued walking.  ”Each business has an owner.  Each owner has an experience with me.  Being part of the Hage clan feeling wave with your special gift makes  you a privy to my experiences.  Who is to understand why?  God has given the Hage Clan a gift.  This gift is accepted but not explained.  Being part of the Hage Clan feeling wave does not give answers to the living.  It provides feelings.  Those feeling give us this moment of communication.”  Kirk stopped and turned to his son peering deep into the dark lipid pool eyes.  ”Do you see my lips move,Kellen?”

Kellen looked around as if shocked when he heard the question.  With eye brows raised his face went blank,  his mouth fell open, and stood frozen in the realization that he had heard the communication of his Father without his Father speaking. ” You see, Kellen,  as we were walking you were wondering what were my connections to these businesses and the people that own them?  As we were walking the answers flowed through you from me without speaking.  My knowledge is your knowledge.  My memory is your memory.  We need not speak to communicate to each other.  From now on we only need to speak aloud when someone other than a Hage clan member needs to hear.  It is a God given gift that we share for this moment.  NO one knows how long it will last?”

Kellen shakes the cobwebs out of his head.  He is feeling great.  All the questions that ran through his mind when he thought of his deceased Grandfather, Lloyd Hage, have now been answered.  Standing on the corner of Main street he was directly in front of the weekly Inwood Herald office.  With the help of the  feeling wave Kellen could see the face of his Grandfather standing at the office counter the day of the big political advertisement for his son, Kirk.  Attired with his customary chambray shirt, bib overalls,and white farmers hat, Kellen could see the man reach into his left chest pocket of his chambray shirt and pulled out a very old and very worn wallet.  Packed with sale ads from the newspaper, cattle buyers/agent cards, and assortment of cash, and Inwood State Bank counter checks.  He pulled out one of those counter checks to pay for the ad  that Kirk was going to order for a county auditor election coming up in the fall.  He could see the man writing the check, signing his name, and laughing quite hardily when handing the check to the office clerk .  Pride was pouring out of his being.  Kellen was surprised that it was so vivid.  His mind cleared he looked for his Father.  He noticed his father had already crossed the street heading east past the farm store towards the new addition to the town.

Both become aware at the same instant that their feelings are being experienced by more than the each other.  Neither were concerned.  Merely aware yet comfortable with it.  The feelings simply added to the experience.  It truly means “the more the merrier” in this case.

The family connection is something that cannot actually be controlled.  It is a gift of the Hage Clan.  It was not in Kirk to suffer as to why?  Kellen on  the other hand was a soul full of questions?   Those feelings (spelled questions) were about to become overwhelming when waves of  experience from previous fathers spread over the two of them.  Making their space in time become even slower in this finite set.  Sitting on the bench.  Side by side.  Smiling for the moment.  Gazing into a past that is both of their futures.  It is a rare trait that allows focus on the youth and the father simultaneously .  Although, as has already been mentioned,  the simultaneous focus of two brother”s,  of which KIrk was a part, would show a precedence  of rare, to.. if it ever existed before scenerio?  To believe in the Hage trait one must accept.  The portrait picture of Kellen and Kirk sitting on the bench, frozen in time, and  enjoying the moment is enough for the two of them to accept the gift and continue with life.

As Kellen readied his question to his Father through the requisite feeling wave a new much stronger more demanding wave of feeling came between the two.  It not only caught them off guard but garnered their attention and respect. It was Kirk’s Grandfather Lewis.  He came with an information wave that would help them both.  Such a wonderful thing…the Hage Wave Trait.

Lewis Hage had been an immigrant.  Kirk had spoke of the stories of Lewis living in Norway to Kellen many times.  Making his living as a farmer and a fisherman.  Fighting the elements of Norway and tiring of the battle in the process.  Now that the wave has flowed through them they are able to see the trip that Lewis made from Norway.

Lewis traveled from Norway by steamship  to Riker’s Island in New York.  He was in-processed after signing the departure manifest.  The same manifest that is archived on the internet.  Kirk reminded Kellen of that fact many times in their ten years together. He booked passage on the next available train from New York to the east of side of Iowa.  It was in Eastern Iowa where Lewis  obtained information about land in the Northwest part of Iowa near the South Dakota/Minnesota tri-state borders.  He purchased land North and west of Inwood Iowa.  It was here that he started a family of sons and daughters.  The oldest of which is LLoyd the Father of Kirk.

Lewis wanted to impart a new feeling wave on Kellen and Kirk.  He deemed it necessary  for them to view this information together.  IT is all part of the puzzle of the wave portrait feeling and it s special uses.  Lloyd,  the son of Lewis is part of this process.

Chapter three  A,

Now that time has stopped Kellen and Kirk can see the activities of the day slowing down to a snapshot.  People that were milling are as frozen living statutes.To the north are the buses lined up.   The bus drivers greeting the kids with smiles on their faces.  To the West is the street to the city park replete with community shelter house,  several covered building beside the campsites for tenters as well as RV’s, tractor pull facility and baseball park.  The oft attended ballpark where Kirk spent many glorious moment of his youth.  Kellen got to feel Kirk’s no hitter in Hawarden in Pee Wee baseball,  batting 1.ooo% in Kirk’s freshmen year of high school baseball,  playing on the first undefeated football team in West Lyon history,  and his marriage to Kellen’s Mother to mention but a few.

Lewis wants the two of them to stop focusing on the people of Inwood. ” Those frozen images are yours to keep.  Concentrate.  Focus on where  Lloyd is at.  Concentrate on Lloyd’s wave and feel it!

They are drawn to an image.  Northwest of Inwood, Iowa on the Lewis Hage farm circa 1930′s.  Lloyd is with a bunch of men.  All farmers.  All of similar age. All were engrossed in the viewing of an old Indian motorcycle that had come into the possession of Lloyd.   They were all working together to ready the motorcycle for operating condition.  It was obvious by the activity that no one really knew what they were doing but with enthusiasm alone it was apparent that they were going to preserver and get the engine to pop over.  Once compression could be obtained all were confident that the engine would run.  This is where Kellen and Kirk join the wave of Lloyd and his compadres.

With all of them gathered around the Indian motorcycle, Lloyd finally agrees that the engine has compression.  He stated quite clearly that he was tired of trying to kick start this old engine.

“I want to try something else fellas.”  Lloyd said to no one in particular.  ”Anyone have an idea for me ?”  as he sat astride the old motorcycle.  Virgil Bahnson had been involved with the kick start method and was in total accord with Lloyd thinking about trying a new method when he said, “Ya Lloyd.  it’s always something?”

IT was the spring of the year.  Late April with remnants of snow on the North side of everything.  The  hills towards the river west of of the farm place showed strips of white snow against the green of the pasture grass, tree lines,  and ditches as they gazed down the hill towards the creek in the back pasture.  Together it was deicded that they were going to use the push start method to get the old motorcycle to run.

Quickly the motorcycle was pushed through the open pasture gate, Virgil followed him, and the rest of the gang after that.  Kellen and Kirk have a clear image wave of the happening.   Many good men in that group.

Lloyd,  the father of Kirk.  Owner of the motorcycle stands six foot high.  His reddish locks are curly(which brings a giggle to both Kellen and Kirk because Kirk and Lloyd both end up being bald).  Lloyd has a vibrant voice and a hearty laugh.  His laugh could be heard over many voices in a crowd.  It was clear that when LLoyd Hage laughed he was really enjoying himself.

Virgil, was of a small build.  Although shorter than some he made up for it  with tenacity and natural athletic ability.  Virgil was a guard on an Inwood basketball team during those years.  He went on to play a barn storming basketball game with the Harlem Globetrotters and Inwood won.  He has a sandy head of hair with blue sky eyes that never miss a trick

Lloyd has now positioned the motorcycle on the cowpath the milk cows will soon be using when called for the evening milking.  The west pasture is quite steep  past the mix of  apple,  Oak , Walnut, and  tree’s considered a windbreak amoungst the poplars. With the snow banks on his right and the fresh green grass sprouting  on the left  the cow path headed west down the hill towards the creek that flows into the Big Sioux River a few miles further to the west through the rolling hills of Blood run.  With the setting sun in their faces they stop and ponder  their actions.

Virgil was the first to ask.  ” What do you think, LLoyd?  How are we going to do this?”

Standing astride the motorcycle facing the sun to the west,  Lloyd cast big shadow back to the fellows of the group as he stood in the late afternoon sunlight.  A natural leader.   He was forced into managing a working farm years before he would be called a man.  Force into adult hood while still a teenager.  Now he stood looking down the hill at the creek below. ” Was this a proper thing to do?” he thought to himself.  Of a sudden while in his pondering moment astride the motorcycle atop the hill on the steep cow path to the creek the feeling waves start to come over him.  He is not sure what to do?  All those young years where he was forced to make adult decision while still a teenage came to a head.  He was completely aware of the dangers.  His adult self says no. His youthful self says go ahead.  The wave is having it effect.

He makes his decison and states to Virgil.”Get the boys and have them help us push this thing to get it started right now.”   Each started motioning for the others to get  into postion to aid in the push down hill.  LLoyd takes the stick shift for the transmisson in his hand then places it in the second of three gears.  His thought was that it would turnover easier and still have enough power to fire the pistons. Well he was right.  Sort of…?

The feeling wave is getting his unconscious attention.  Something is warning him.    The wave is filling him.   It is mixing him up.  He is not used to questioning his own decisions.  He motions for all to push the motorcycle.  Virgil sounds the charge as if leading the group up San Juan Hill with Teddy Roosevelt. Together the boy’s quickly push the motorcycle down the trail.  Just as quickly the boys trailed off with Virgil, the fastest of the bunch, the last to to make the final push for Lloyd  who remained atop the Indian motorcycle headed down the cowpath, of the west 80 acre pasture,  towards the creek which is flowing full from the April showers,  and the warm sun that is melting the winter blanket of snow.

Now the fathers of the Hage clan send feeling wave after feeling wave to show Lloyd the error of his ways.  The creek is flowing full. The small walk bridge at the bottom of the hill is to rickety for a touring motor bike to with stand the impact at road speed.  The path is slightly wet at the bottom of the hill thus not facilitating proper ground contact of the wheel to the ground to move the wheel that make the transmission move to turn over the engine that will fire the piston to make the engine run.

With the clutch disengaged  the wheels are  free wheeling down the hill.   Lloyd can hear the voices of encouragement from  his friendsback by the groves tree lined fence.  The years of feeling wave  from the Hage clan envelope him.  All of his senses are telling him to not let the clutch out.  His fingers were trembling slightly fighting the feeling wave of the Hage clan as it coursed through his body.  ”Why is this wrong?” he thought in his head.  ”What is this feeling that is beckoning me to jump?  Would I not be better to release the clutch to turn the  rear wheel to fire the engine?”  He has reached his maximum speed and the ground is streaking with wet spots.  Some slicker than others.  He has seen this but is not aware.   It is now or never  and as slowly released his grip on the clutch,  It was this tentativeness that started the epic fail.

As he slowly released the clutch the wheel did try to grab some traction.  This action allowed the wheel to slide to the ride bringing the motorcycle perpendicular to the walking wood bridge that the cows used to cross the over flowing creek.  At that moment the Hage Clan feeling wave presence was felt.  With all of his might Lloyd pushed up and to the left as the motorcylce started going down on it’s left side.  The Hage clan feeling wave gave him extra strength to push up and away from the out of control motorcycle.  With the aid of the Hage clan Lloyd managed to land on his feet.   Avoiding any contact with the flowing creek at the bottom of the hill.  IT cannot be said of the old Indian motorcycle .  IT slid right into the base of the bridge and completely demolished the old rickety bridge.  The cows will have to ford the stream this date.

Now all of the fellows are running down the hill.  Some are laughing.  Most are concerned .  All can see that Lloyd managed to avoid any injury so the worry was about the bridge and what Grandpa will say.

That was Lloyds introduction into the Hage clan feeling wave.  It made Kellen and Kirk continue to smile in their moment of frozen time within the Hage clan feeling wave.

The connection between father’s and son’s of the Hage clan goes back centuries. IT is not known how it was accomplished but the Hage genes give the ability to silently communicate between father and son.  A feeling can become a request.  A willful thought can be curbed.  The father of Kellen has already had his day of connection.  He remembers the day that the connnection was made between Kirk and his grandfather Lloyd.

Kirk was about ten years old when the connection was made.  Kirk had been attending grade school and had been returned home by the local school bus.  The yellow 60 passenger school bus rumbled down the country roads bringing up dust each mile it travelled.   The dust softly settled down and blew away when the bus eased itself to a gentle stop to let the children off at their homes.  When Kirk step down onto the road after exiting the bus he waved to the students and to the driver as they left.

As Kirk turned to go towards the house he could see that his father’s yard was ripe with the activities of a corn harvest .  He could see the whole yard spread before him.  The house on the left was a large two story .  The top floor had a balcony on the south side and a sunporch on the North. The main floor had an entry balcony/covered porch on the south side that was little used.  On the east side  a new addition had been added to the Northeast corner of the building giving access to the addition with a nice concrete set of steps with wraught iron bar hand rail on each side.  The home was all covered with white aluminum siding that was still wearing strong.

In the middle of the yard was the light pole for night work.  On the pole were the power meters for the farm.  The shop was just north and slightly to the east of the house.  In it were all the tools that Kirk’s father had accumulated during his career as a farmer.  It was a simple shop as was his fathers mechanical ability but his efforts were always the subject of the neighbors since Lloyd seemed to never plant his crops the same way twice.

To the east of the house and the light pole were the  blue glass lined steel silos that A.O.Smith and Harvestor silos built the year that Kirk was born.  These silos held the food for the aninals that Lloyd purchased and raised for a living and a profit during the early 60′s.  Kirk could see the hired men moving tractors and wagon into position to attempt to blow the silage that had been chopped by the Gehl harvester being pulled through the field by a tractor with a wagon in tow.  One hired man was pulling away from the blower to return to the field to gather another load of silage from my father who was operating the forage harvester.

The second hired man was sitting on a 520 John Deere tractor when he motioned to the boy walking down the driveway after existing the bus from school.  Kirk meandered his way, Family Circus style, going from point to point as if each stop was something important and valuable at each turn.  The hired man finally motioned more frantically to the boy.   It wa determined then that Kirk better get his butt moving and see what the man wanted.

Dave,the hired man, was  35 years old.  He had dark hair that was mottled and thick.  H wore a cowboy hat which was unusual for our area.  He was a western South Dakota cowboy that had come to the big city of Sioux Falls, SD. to seek employment.  He had heard of the work on our farm through an advertisement that Kirk’s father had placed in the Sioux Falls Argus Leader.  At  five foot ten inches he was of average height but severely over weight.  He definitely has had one to many beers each night to acquire such a prominent beer belly. He really had a  big belly overhang. It was funny to watch him waddle with all the extra weight  while slipping between tractors, wagons, silage blower belt, pulley’s and pto shafts of all of the implement that were needed to blow the silage into the blue harvestor silo.

When Kirk approached the hired man it was Dave that started the conversation.  ”Hi there Kirk!  Glad to see you home from school.  Your Dad wanted me to get you to help me when you returned from school today.  I would like you to help me unload this wagon of silage so I will be able to go and feed the cattle.  Would you please  unload this load of silage for me.”

Kirk had unloaded silage on several occasions with his father but had never attempted to unload a wagon all by himself.  It made Kirk feel proud that his father trusted him enough to let him work like a man yet  still only a child.  That was often the way of it during those days.  Farm children worked and they usually worked hard.

“Sure Dave, I will do it for you. You go on.  I will finish this load up for you while your in the steer pen.” said Kirk as he looked at all the machinery .

Dave said, “I have everything set up and ready to go.  I will start the blower up.  You go to the back of the wagon and start raking silage into the hopper of the blower.”

As Kirk turned to the east he could see the Brown Swiss milk cows standing in the cow yard wishing,  for that moment at least,  that they were steers.  They knew that silage was soon to be feed the steers.  They always stood at the fence yearning for the fresh molasses spiked corn silage feed.  Mooing in an awful  mournful fashion.  He didn’t feel bad for the cows.  He knew that he would be feeding the cows ground corn and protein by hand when he went to the barn to milk the four cows later on that afternoon.

Where approaching  the end of the wagon,  Kirk picked up the the four pronged silage rake.  He began to move material into the hopper.  Once on the rubber tread mill like machine it headed toward the spinning hammers on the  blower and was soon out of sight and headed to the top of the silo.  As he worked on the load  from the Roorida silage wagon into the hopper Kirk’s little brother Karl came out of the house.

Karl, was four at the time.  Average height but slightly rollie-pollie.  He had blonde hair underneath an old baseball cap that had been worn by all the Hage boys of the family. It was weather worn but something that Karl was proud of since his Dad and brother all wore the same hat.   Karl like to wear his bib overall because his father wore them everyday.  This day wa no exception and his bibs were on and he was proud.  You could see it in the walk as he approached his brother Kirk standing on the ground at the end of the wagon dragging silage out of the wagon and into the hopper of the blower.  Karl said to Kirk. “What are you doing?  I don’t think Daddy would like it that you are unloading silage wagons.”

“It will be OK.”  Kirk said.  Dave needed to feed the cattle and still get back to the field to gather up another wagon for Dad.  It is safe enough if I keep my hands away from moving parts.  Why don’t you carefully go back to the tractor and sit on the seat until I finish unloading this wagon.   We can move the tractor and wagon together.”

“Ok, Kirk I will be careful.  Hurry up and finish.  I love driving the tractor.” Karl said as he smiled impishly and scurried off to the tractor seat to await his brother.

Upon finishing up the loaded wagon Kirk needed to shut down the blower tractor.  Normally he would walk towards the front end of the silage wagon tractor.  Keeping him away from all moving parts that could catch his pants or sleeves.  But today he was in a hurry.  Karl was anxious to drive the tractor.  So instead of going to the front end of the silage wagon tractor Kirk decided to cross over the PTO bar that drives the mechanism for the silage wagon. (it must be noted that the shear pin on this wagon was a 16 penny nail instead of a bolt and the shaft did not have a rolling shield which is the standard safe practice of industry these  days.)

Karl was attentive and watched as Kirk did his tasks.  When Kirk decided to cross over the PTO shaft of the silage wagon Karl released a hold of the steering wheel,  turned his body 180 degrees, and knelt on the John Deere tractor seat to gain better access to watchn  his older brother.  Kirk was smiling and acting like a self important ten year old kid showing off to his little brother.

Kirk turned and stepped on the left side from of the rear end of the tractor to gain a little height to cross over the spinning shaft of the silage wagon tractor.  Normally one would shut off the silage wagon tractor then jump down and turn off the blower tractor.  Then jump back down and return to the silage wagon tractor.  Then drive away.  Not this time.  Because Karl was in the seat of the silage wagon tractor Kirk did not want to bother Karl so he decided to cross over the turning PTO shaft that had a shear pin that had been replaced with a bent nail.

Kirk had taken all the steps to cross over the PTO shaft.  His left foot clear of any obstruction as he placed his  left foot on the transmission frame hooked to the rear end and the drawbar.  Lifting his right leg over the PTO shaft and placing his right foot on the frame of the tractor transmission on the right side.  Once in this position Karl and Kirk are face to face.  It was at this position that Kirk felt a tug at his right pants leg.  It did not hurt at that time but it was a persistent tug.  IT was happening all so quickly.  The tug. Then it was a slam.  Now the rubbing was beginning.  Kirk did not have time to react.  He was being pulled down by the action of the PTO shaft that had a nail for a shear pin.  The shear pin had caught the pant leg and was now pulling it and Kirk between the PTO shaft and the draw bar of the tractor.  This was a space of less than one foot.  Kirk knew that he was going down and could do nothing to stop it.  To late to do anything Kirk held firm in his position and Karl of a sudden turns and shuts the PTO shaft off in the nick of time.  Just as he shut off the PTO on the tractor the pants had finally been ripped off of Kirk’s body exposing the rub mark burn on his left leg where the shaft had been rotating under power of the tractor.

It was this event that first introduced the boys to the trait that is inherent in all the Hage men.  Voices of the father communicated that date to two brothers and one Grandfather.  No one heard a thing.  It was felt.  Karl received a feeling. It was the thing to do.   Shut off the PTO drive.  Do it now.  Kirk felt it but ddi not say it.  Karl felt it and acted on that feeling.  Kirk was saved by a grandfather helping his grandchild.  The guiding angel that only communicates through feelings.  The special trait or bond of the Hage clan has been introduced to the two brothers but they will not actually know about the trait till many years later.  Never the less the bond has been made with the grandfather and two grand kids.  That is the way of the Hage clan.  They feel without knowing and understand without question.  Between the two of them they know.  It is a special trait.

Sitting in front of the post office is a little bench.  On this bench a person can view the main street of Inwood.  To the south is the business district with fifty businesses.  The bank has a new building to serve the people.  There is a bar and a restaurant.  A True Value Hardware store, a four lane bowling alley, two grocery stores, several feed mills for livestock, service stations and repair shops, hairdressers and blacksmith shop.  There is a dentist and a doctor office on each side of main street.  A weekly newspaper, boarding house, a plumbing contractors office, and a used car lot.

To the north is the residential section.  Streets lined with oak, ash and walnut trees.  Everyone had at least one evergreen and some had hedges surrounding the garden that had vegetables and fruits, surrounded by a green lawn.  Iowa soil will always produce something if given any water at all.  Such wonderful soil.  The soil is not black and it is not yellow but an earthy grey brown tone that allows the rain  water to filter through the soil to reach all the roots of the beans and corn of the surrounding area. The water is held for later use by the clay that is underneath all the topsoil.

Farming is the life blood of the area.  The post office is the central place that everyone comes to meet and greet.  The conversations could get  a little heated in this friendly little spot.   Everyone was equal at the post office.  Everyone was there for the same thing.  Word from the outside.  You know places like Des Moines, Sioux Falls, Minneapolis, and Omaha.  The big towns of the midwest.  The bench in front of the post office was the scene of many of these converstations.

Sitting on the bench on this fall day is Inwood resident Kirk Hage.  Although born in the area,  he is one of the many that left seeking what ever it is that people go out and look for then return later in life only to realize that it was all right in front of them.  He comes everyday to the post office.  He checks his mail each time and has many conversations with the locals but he has other  motives for securing his seat in front of the post office.  Not only does he get to meet and greet locals he is able to observe the coming and going of the children as they pass from school classes  to the gym which is on the corner directly east of the post office bench.  He sits,waits, and watches for the son that came late into his life.  The son that attends the school across the street from the post office bench where Kirk is sitting.  It is here at this bench that Kirk is going to see his life in a different way.

IT has been his habit for years to dress in working attire consisting of khaki shirt and pants with white white socks and brown Romeo fisherman slip-on shoes.  The clothes fit well on the six foot two inch frame.  His body still stands erect and walks true.  The years of wear and tear show in the etching of the furrowed brow. His hazel colored eyes have a light that truly only shines when he sees his son.  To others the light cannot be seen.  His voice is like a screeching horned owl.  The after effects of treatment for tongue cancer years earlier. His hand are thick, broad, and strong from his work as a construction worker now retired.  No longer callused and cut from years of disuse.  The scars still show the wear that the the years have wrecked up them.  Battered but not broken his hand reaches out to anyone.  When you get finished shaking hands with Kirk you know your hand has been shook.

The activity  on the street is starting to build since school is soon to be dismissed.  It is a normal activity for the town residents to meet and greet each day around the time of school dismissal.  Kirk always arrives early to sit and enjoy the beautiful weather, the fall foliage, and flowers while waiting for his son.  It is funny how Kirk sits and waits for his son and the Anderson’s, Bahnson’s, Johnson’s, Jenson’s and Knudson all were waiting for their sons as well.  It always brought a chuckle to Kirk when he thought about all of the sons in Inwood.  Some how he was glad that his name was Hage and not Lloydson or Kirkson.  It could have been his name if his family had used an old tradition of adding “son” to the end of the first name of the father.

As the big bell rings on the south side exterior wall of the big red brick school house Kirk notices his son is first to get out out the door.  He is easily seen.  His thick raven black hair  is a striking contrast to all the blonde headed kids that were surrounding him as he exited the building and walked toward his father sitting at the bench beside the post office.  As was his custom Kirk did not rise when Kellen approached the bench.  He merely said, “Hey buddy!  How are you doing?”  As Kellen would lean down,  give his dad a hug,  then sit beside him at the bench and say, “Hi Dad, boy it was a tough day.”

“Why is that?” Kirk asked.

“I don’t know Dad?  It is hard to learn all of this stuff that the teacher try to teach me.” he said as he looked at the other kids getting into cars and busses heading home for the day.  ”I think it is hard to get along with kids in school and at recess.  They call me names and make fun of me because I cannot run very fast.”

What do you do about it, Kellen?  his father asked

His face lit up when I asked that question.  It was very apparent that Kellen liked to see interest in the eyes of his father because of his question.  ”I try to throw them off with something witty.  A laugh always seem to throw them off guard so they leave me alone as long as I keep them laughing.   I am always picked last because I am so slow.” he said as he bowed his head in embarrassment.

His father said, “Do you want to talk about it, Kellen?”

“No Daddy, I don’t think you can understand my problem?” Kellen answered.

” You think that because I am old I would not understand about how it is to be a kid?  Kirk said as he looked hard at the boy with the cherub face with worldly thoughts in a childish fashion.  Typical kid of the day.  High tech but not much interest in the rural industry of farming and the physical work that it takes to be a farmer.  ”Do you have time to listen to a story befoer we get into the pick up to go home?”

Kellen picked up his head and a smile came upon his face when his eyes refocused onto his father and said, “Daddy, now is not the time for one of your stories.”

Kirk had heard this before from his son.  This was a game that we had played since he was born. It is part of their humor to say things that are really outrageous.  It is outrageous of Kellen to say to his Father that now is not have the time to listen.  We always have time to listen if we choose.  Underneath it all Kellen really wants to hear the story.  Many times through the years he had been told as he  headed out the door that there would be a call to the neighbors that he was going to visit to make sure that he did not have any fun while he was out playing.  Between the two of us he knows that I will never call to check on him for not having fun.  He knows that the intent of his father is for him to have as much fun as possible.    So his answer was typical of their interaction .

“Well,  we will just will have to make time, Kellen.  Now won’t we?”  Kirk said as they both smiled and settled into the bench in front of the post office after a long day at school.

“You know Kellen,  hard as it is to believe , I was once a young man just like yourself.  I went to the same school that you are attending.  I can remember the day in fifth grade When Mr. Johnson lined us all up in PE class to do the first presidential fitness test enacted by  President Kennedy.  It was an exciting day for all of the kids to have a class where all we had to do was exercise and have fun.  Kind of like a recess but with a teacher.  Or so we thought?   After our warm up of jumping jacks , sit ups, push ups and stretching we stood in line waiting as each kid was timed and counted.  Every one picked a partner.  While one partner was doing sit ups the other partner would hold their feet down.   Then they would count the sit-ups while Mr. Johnson would man the stop watch to time each exercise.  When it came time for the 50 yard sprint it was abundantly clear that I was the slowest in the classes because Mr Johnson  announced the time of each contestant as they crossed the line.  So everyone not only heard the results announced by Mr.Johnson they could see that I was more  than a second and a half slower than the fellow I raced against who happened to be the fastest guy in the class.  I will never forget Mr Johson announcing the results. The fastest runner was Don Metzger and the slowest runner was me.  I do not know why Mr. Johnson found it necessary to announce the slowest runner in the class.  Everyone got a good laugh out of it.  It is the first time that I remember being embarrassed in public.  So I think I understand how you feel Kellen.”

The two sat  on the bench in front of the post office that afternoon as the school was dismissed with a smile on their faces, a glow in their hearts, and lost in the moment .  Each into their own thoughts.   Kellen dreaming of his future world through his Father’s eyes.  His father reliving his past world through his sons eyes.  Time has stopped for the two of them.  Each is living a dream.  Different dreams but the same trait.  It is this trait that keeps them coupled.  Secure in the fact that only the two of them can share this feeling.  It was instilled in Kirk by his father who had recieved it from his father.  It has now officially been handed down to Kirk’s son.  They see each others visions with out even being aware.   It is this connection that all Fathers in the Hage line share.

I remember  now what it was that made me so sleepy on Friday night after all of those tasks that I described and they were not the reasons why I was tired and sleepy?  It was camping gear.  Yes one wouldn’t think that camping gear would make a body tired but this old soak sure gets tired of camping gear.  You know… camping gear is only good when you are camping.  Did you ever notice that?  Boy of late I sure have.  I have camp gear to keep a body warm, dry, and as comfortable as one can be when one lies on the ground in a tent with a sleeping bag 0n an air-mattress.  Then I have to have the stove, the grill,the cooler, the pans, the coffee pot, camp cups, knives, forks, and spoons.  Then there is the fire starter, fire wood, fire pit, fire pit ring, fire grate, fire shovel, and fire extinguisher.  All of these items take up a rather large space when being used.  No problem when you are camping because you are at the campground.  Picture this…all of these items are laying on the shop floor in piles.  Sorted by size,  shape,  and gender(yes my wife has attended camping weekends).  Each pile takes up more space than is needed since it was put away improperly because of the wet dew from the morning pack up from the latest boy Scout camp out almost three weeks ago.  In that time each pile now has a nice layer of sawdust and good old dirt mixed in with the dew that was brought in from the early morning pack up.  Situation clean up is about to take a good turn.

I had finally had had enough of those messy piles(that… and the fact that Kellen has a Boy Scout outing Halloween weekend). The camp gear had been hastily packed up.  Now one must take the time to make the necessary adjustment(clean it up) to get it back into to camp out shape.  Because the tent is so big I needed more space on the shop floor.  Which necessitated the cleaning up of more shop floor area.(which is a good thing albeit more work)  This took quite a long time.  I have been letting things pile up so what should have been a few minutes to an hour show turned into the morning play time for me.  The extra work paid dividends when it came time to pack up all the mess that needed to be cleaned.  The all in one tent was erected with easy.  I was able to get a vacuum and a broom inside the tent to get all the dirt and bugs that the boys left from the last camp out.  Then it was breakdown time for all of the camp gear.   It was great to have all items back into rolls,bags, and chests  that will fit in the back of the pickup.  Now that it is all packed away it is awaiting the call of the Boy Scout weekend.

It was nice to see a clean shop as I left on Friday morning.  I went to sleep very tired that night dreaming of what could be constructed in my clean shop with enough tools to build a space ship to the moon with all left handed threads with my son, Kellen, if I choose to embark on such a mission.  I sure love the dreams that a man cave can produce.  Been a long time since I remembered a dream.  Could it be that this dream is not?  It would appear I am living it?

We had an unusual happening occur here at the house today.  We had our first day since moving into the house almost ten years ago of absolutely no internet.  IT must have been gruesome this morning when my son Kellen awoke and heard the news.  Last I heard he was seen somewhere in the neighborhood with a sign around his neck that said he would work for internet time.  LOL!  Not really but my wife told me he was beside himself  not knowing what to do with time on his hands.  He spent the afternoon at a friend’s house.   I am sure that the internet was available to him there so it was not like he was on withdrawal.

Ellen and I are sitting in the house watching TV in the kitchen with our laptops on the table.  she has her closed and is crocheting a scarf for a friend of hers  while I read some pdf. files that I had saved for just such a time.  I also have a movie and a game to play on the computer that does not need  any internet connection when I run out of pdf. files.  I do have a lot of hard back books as well as a plethora of electronic books with many authors to get my literary fix with out the internet.  What I miss most is looking up anything that comes to my mind.  I love that about the internet with the computer.  IF you can spell it Google can find it if it has been on the internet.   I know… what ever I have thought…  has been thought of before.  The only reason that I know this is because Google has found something each and every time that I have tried to search for something.

I spent the morning at my shop so I did not have a need for the internet.  At my shop everything is in such a disarray that it is hard differentiating the junk from the projects.  In the last two days I have made great progress in curing that particular malady.  My new friend and neighbor offered me two rather large sized tool storage cabinets that he had used as a security box during his time as a general contractors about twenty years ago.  When he went into the millwright business he placed them in his small shop and the poor tool boxes kind of over took the shop since his shop was rather small.  Now he is wanting to upgrade and reduce the stockpile so he offered the toolboxes as a gesture of friendship.  I have to tell you I am not used to anyone giving me anything.  (my parents gave me everything…not counting them)

My new friend appears to be a man of my own convictions.  He has been in construction most of his life.  I glean a lot of great information to aid in all of the little shop projects that I have started at the mancave.  He helped me with the plasma cutter set up.  IT worked like a champ.  What a machine!  Sooner or later I am going to have a small CNC machine and the plasma cutter will be a part of that as well.  The welder will be the next to start my juices flowing.  It is a MIG welder .  I have done some stick welding and I am no union welder but I can strike an arch.  Then make metal stick together.  According to my neighbor the MIG welder is much easier to operate than a stick welder.  So I am looking forward to starting the folding wall/slash door.  I have done all the engineering including the one dimensional drawings almost to scale.  The measurements are accurate the scale is probably a little off since I don’t know how to draw or scale anything.  It is amazing how a bunch of strait lines can make a picture.  I did it with simple force of will(and a real good imagination).

I am writing today using my computer for the first time as a word processor.  I know not a thing about such an endeavor.  It took me an hour to find word processing.  Another hour to read what was necessary to get it all designated, deposited somewhere on my computer, with a name that will make it easy to find it again at a later date.  Sounds like a simple project eh?  Well, it would be if it were not for the fact that I am not considered the sharpest tool in the shed when it comes to technology by anyone …anywhere!.  I married into technology.  My wife is a techno whiz.  Often times my queries are to mundane for her.  I have a son that is following in his mothers footsteps so I can go to him if I have any slight problems like….Turning it on?  finding a program?  You know the basic stuff that I never have had to involve my self.  Now if I only had internet?  Hopefully I will post this Monday morning.  I am even more hopeful that I will be able to find it again on my computer.  so if you read this I passed.

Without my cup of coffee in hand I set down in front of a Steve Jobs product to tap out more interesting prose.  Screen is set to the right angle.  Check.  Chair has proper padding for this arduous ordeal.  Check.  Have pencil and paper at hand if the arms will not work at the type writer  since I will soon be typing feverously and they may become tired. Check.  Make sure I sit correctly.  Proper posture is ever so important. Check.  As you may have already figured out I managed to amke a check list that was a mile ling and absolutely produced nothing.  Check.  (Oh I guess I got two paragraphs for my blog.)

NaNoWriMo is fast approaching.  The gut check this morning in my bedroom as I lay in the netherworld of conscious and unconscious thought I really got a knot in my stomach when I saw the effects of declaring a mission.  I have told the world that I am going to write a novel.  I have the in my mind and it is scaring me to death.  the old “Do what you say…Say what you do”  guy!  The guy that says that same thing to his son.  Now I am a weak kneed dunderhead that is scared of his own words(shadow).  Questions of doubt were going to come during the NaNO WriMo exercise in November but I didn’t really think it would come in the nether land  state of in between.  The fear is really deep seeded.

I  fear the battle.  I fear the battle of  ability.  I battle the fear of continuing.  I battle the battle.  Boy do I have battles!  Don’t we all..???  I think  I should chose my battles?  What do the readers think?   Do we chose our battles or are our battles choosing us?  NO matter I  would think?  I choose to take on the battle of my insecurities.  I choose to take on the battle of life.  At least I hope I am choosing?   Such wishy washy thoughts are what keep me in the battle.

I would go to a shrink if I thought it would help.  Actually the best head shrinker(I can’t spell psychiatrist) advice I ever heard came from Bob Newhart playing a head shrinker seeing a patient at his clinic.  It goes like this:

Doctor: We have a unique treatment system at this clinic.  It is imperative that you listen and do exactly what I say.  We have found over the years that this treatment is ever so effective in any kind of psychiatric disorder that has ever been diagnosed. It is so effective that we guarantee you will be cured after only one treatment if you do exactly what I say.

Patient:  Oh thank you Doctor.  I have waited so long to get to see you.  I cannot believe that you guarantee a cure for all of my disorders.  I am a crack addict and I am bulimic.  I also have agoraphobia and a whole lot of other assorted ailments.  I have been treated by some of the best doctors in the world.   They are all still at a loss as to why I have to fight all of these battles?

Doctor:  Yes,  we have had many such as you come to this clinic.  Each saying the same thing.

Patient: So did each one become cured?  I so want to be cured but I have all of these addiction?

Doctor:  Listen carefully.  Here is my prescription that this clinic is famous for.  It will change your life forever if you do exactly as I say.

Patient: Oh Yes, Please tell me!!

The doctor leaned forward over the desk in front of him peering directly into the patient’s eye to garner a more dramatic effect.

Doctor:  STOP IT!!!  That will be fifty dollars you can pay at the office desk.

I do not know if I can just “STOP IT”  but it sure seems like a simple solution does it not?  Good advice is usually hard to follow? I plan on fighting the battle of words to complete the NaNWriMo contest.  I like the tenor of the event.  It was never stated anywhere  that the novel had to be a good novel.  I rest in that thought.

Of late the morning starts with my friend arriving about eight o’clock in the morning.  Usually we talk of the happenings since we last met.   Then go on to a project that needs more discussion or expertise added to the mix before I plod on with the project.  We are both retired.   We do not have a need to accomplish anything(another reason why I like this guy).   We both believe that just sitting and talking is an accomplishment that we could be satisfied with.  IF we do anything other than that we need to count our lucky stars.  Which we do!  Often!!

I purchased a plasma cutting torch about a year ago.  It wasn’t until yesterday that I had any interest in assembling the cutter and using it.  With the help of my neighbor, J.R., we got it out of the packaging and set it up.    What was I thinking!!?  why did I wait so long? (I think it was because I had  to wait  to purchase an air compressor since I spent so much on the plasma cutter,,,LOL!!)  This is a toy of the year as far as I am concerned.  The torch cuts half inch iron like it is a hot knife through butter.  Oh boy,  what a feeling!  I cannot wait to start a little art project with my son. (we have a kbox in the works and metal art could be added to it later)  I talked to him about it and he was as excited about the possibilities as I was.  The mancave is going keep us together.  I have been searching for a commonality to reach out to my son.  I am an older father.  My interests may not be his interests.  So far Kellen wants to have go carts with video games on the windshield.  I think the new plasma cutter and the welder that I will set up in a day or two will be the glue that could possibly hold my son and I together during the tough years when he is trying to become a man.

I was usually angry with my Father.  Through no fault of his I might add.  I was my own worst enemy.  Hopefully my life will be a guide for me in what “NOT” to do.  Camping has been another commonality for Kellen and I.  The way I have the mancave set up every time we stay there it is a camping adventure.  It is my aim to keep that way for as long as I can.  Somehow I need to find a weigh to entice, encourage, and invigorate his creative genes to work through the problems that one encounters everyday.  Hopefully we will work together to understand how a plan is formed in the mind, created on paper, and built according to plans.  This is one of life’s lesson that will help Kellen decide how to live his life.  Find out what is important, do what you need to do the reach that end,  and then make the plan happen.

Kellen will learn how to create, plan, and implement the projects at our mancave using all the tools necessary to make a space ship to the moon with all left handed threads if he chooses.    Just like he will do in life.  Hopefully we will have created a successful environment for us both to enjoy learn and grow in the years to come.