Available exclusively at the Silver Lake Café, Silver Lake, Minnesota
Volume I, Issue 2 October 2005
***** Silver Lake Gazette Contributors
Helen Yost -- my wife, owner of the Silver Lake Café Mrs. Trygve Strindberg -- President of the Silver Lake Historical Society Pat McMahon -- co-proprietor of Jill and Jack’s Quilting and Music Fritz Urke -- semi-retired plumber and regular customer at the Cafe Larry Yost -- Editor (LarryYostSLG@aol.com)
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***** Garrison Keillor and Bob Dylan
Last Saturday night was slow. There were two or three families eating dinner, Fritz and a few of his buddies were playing whist, and that was about it. Helen was working the kitchen, but mostly listening to Prairie Home Companion. I was half listening to the radio and half reading Eric Greinke’s translation of Rimbaud when Bob Dylan walked in and sat at the counter. At first I kind of thought it looked like him, though it was hard to believe. When I heard his nasal voice, all doubt was removed. “Your sign says that you serve breakfast anytime,” he said. “Could I get two eggs over easy, toast and jam, and some hash browns?” “What kind of toast? Whole wheat or white?” “White.” “Do you want some bacon with that?” “Sure, yea.” “Anything to drink?” Dylan thought for a second and said, “Orange juice, please.” I carried the order back to Helen and told her, “Bob Dylan’s here. This is his order.” “That’s nice,” she said, and then she chuckled over the ketchup board commercial. I went back out front and picked up Rimbaud. I wanted to say something to Dylan in the worst way, but at the same time I didn’t want to bother him. He had taken out a pen and was doodling on a napkin. It was really weird. Everything was normal - the low din of conversation, the laughter from the card game - except that Bob Dylan was right here in the Silver Lake Café. When his food was ready I brought it out. Then when Keillor’s monologue about the news from Lake Wobegon came on, Helen turned it up so that we could hear it out front. Dylan and I listened while he ate. Dylan finished eating and went to the cash register. I got up and he handed me a twenty. While I made change Keillor ended his monologue with the familiar line, “That’s the news from Lake Wobegon, where all the women are strong, all the men are good looking, and all the children are above average.” At that Dylan reacted with a cryptic look. I didn’t know what to make of his expression, so I gave him an inquiring look that said, “What do you mean?” He shrugged, took his change, and went out into the night. I saved the napkin and tacked it up on the wall behind the pie case. --Larry Yost
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***** Obituary for Angus
Eddie Wrobleski’s black lab mix Angus was killed last Saturday after being run over by a car. The driver was not at fault. Angus had chased cars all his life, and his end came when he miscalculated and attempted to head the car off while lacking the speed to do so. At least he died doing something he loved. Angus was twelve years old (that’s 84 in dog years). --Larry Yost
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***** Savory Chicken Curry
Fry three chopped onions, one chopped green pepper, and one cup chopped celery in ¼ cup olive oil until browned. Add 1 tsp cinnamon and one bay leaf. Continue stirring and add ¼ tsp ground ginger, 1 tsp paprika, 6 tbsp curry powder, ½ tsp white sugar, 1 pinch salt, and 4 cloves of crushed garlic. Stir for two minutes. Mixture will be pasty. Add three pounds of pre-boiled chicken chunks and two cups chopped tomatoes. Add enough water to cover the chicken. Simmer for one to five hours. The longer the better. Your kitchen will smell great, too. Before serving add the juice from one lemon, 1 tbsp cayenne pepper, and one 16 oz can of pineapple chunks (drain the juice first). Stir and simmer for five more minutes. Serve over white rice. Add cocktail peanuts or cashews for a tasty crunch. Make sure that your spices are fresh, especially the curry powder! -- Helen Yost
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***** From The Past -- Historical news items gleaned from the morgue of the defunct Silver Lake Pioneer-Commercial
30 Years Ago -- October 18, 1975 Kip and Juanita Beyer have purchased Ralph's Pretty Good Burger Barn restaurant in Silver Lake from James L. Johnson. The Beyers said the Barn's menu of "pretty good grub" won't change. James and his family are buying a dude ranch in Maine.
20 Years Ago -- October 4, 1985 Bobby DePosta, a recent transplant to Silver Lake from Miami, was the honored guest at a community ceremony for his $250,000 donation to repave the runway and build a nine-plane hangar at Silver Lake Airfield. DePosta, wearing a smart velour track suit, left to use the bathroom five times during the 20-minute ceremony. Each time he returned suffering the sniffles. A sympathetic Mrs. Edgar Burns gave him an antihistamine.
15 Years Ago -- October 30, 1990 Kermit Wildmon and a rowdy visiting spectator got into a shoving match following the Silver Lake Lancers' 10-6 football victory over arch-rival Annandale. During the game, the boorish Annandalian kept yelling "Lurch!" from the stands at Kurtis Wildmon, the Lancer's rangy third-team QB and the fifth of Kermit and Karen Wildmon's eight boys. That got Kermit all riled. Ultimately cooler heads prevailed and the men were separated. But Kermit pointed at the man and said, sort of threateningly, "I'll see you in slo-pitch next summer, buster!"
67 Years Ago, October 22, 1938 Mr. and Mrs. Donald Peesemeil on Sunday visited the well-kept home of Mr. and Mrs. Bernt T. Aust to see the Aust's new kitchen sink, a fine steel one."Strong as a Studebaker bumper," Mr. Aust said, proudly thumbing his suspenders. -- Mrs. Trygve Strindberg
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***** Home Brew
In the area of food and beverage, there are several skills that every real man must master. First and foremost, of course, is the ability to barbeque steaks, ribs and burgers on a grill. Other culinary methods vital to one’s standing in the community are cleaning and frying fish, mixing a martini, and making hash browns. Of growing importance is the ancient craft of brewing beer. For uncounted centuries men have artfully combined malted barley, hops, water and yeast to produce a tasty beverage with many beneficial properties. It’s good for digestive disorders, stress, malaise and Viking Syndrome. I have several friends who derive so much good from beer that they drink about a twelve-pack each day. As for myself, I especially need beer when I either get the blues or listen to the blues. The nursery rhyme “The House That Jack Built” begins like this: “This is the house that Jack built. This is the malt that lay in the house that Jack built. This is the rat that ate the malt that lay in the house that Jack built.” And so on. Why do you think Jack had malt in his house? He was brewing beer - that’s why. And it’s no wonder that the cow with the crumpled horn and the priest all shaven and shorn got involved. You can’t mess with a man’s home brew without serious consequences. Anyway, I’ve been brewing my own for years. It’s fun, it’s easy, and the experience provides many sensual pleasures. The rich color of the tea when making India pale ale, the smell of hops added to boiling wort, and the sound of carbon dioxide bubbles popping in the airlock are timeless joys. If you are already a home brewer, you know what I mean. If not, be a real man and start brewing your own. -- Pat McMahon
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***** Choice Quotation
“Relax. Don’t worry. Have a homebrew.” -- Charlie Papazian
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***** The Way I See It
It’s hard for people to admit that they’re wrong. Maybe it’s harder now than it ever was because of the way our legal system is set up. There’s almost never a reward for admitting a mistake. Plead guilty in a criminal case and you go to jail. Admit that you did something wrong in a civil case and you’re held fully liable. Everything is set up for the benefit of people who can afford a good lawyer to help them weasel their way out of mistakes. I think that this carries over into other contexts. Schools hesitate to punish naughty children without absolute proof. Politicians make excuses instead of taking responsibility. Calling a liar a liar is seen as impolite. Rationalizing is the name of the game, not honesty. In the legend of George Washington and the cherry tree, the Father of our Country admitted his wrong-doing by famously saying, “I cannot tell a lie.” If this was a modern story, George would hire an attorney and a spokesman. The attorney would investigate and write a memo saying that the cherry tree had been chopped down, but definitely was not cut down. Then the spokesman would hold a press conference and announce, “Mr. Washington denies in the strongest possible terms the false accusations that he cut down the cherry tree. He calls for his accusers to apologize and to stop their hating.” I guess that’s what some people call progress. -- Fritz Urke