When late night drops on Big Frank it brings a few thoughts, but they usually come in disparate clumps better suited to aphorisms than to any structured poems. Here are a few.
1. The object of your desire is your desire.
2. We can say that we agree to disagree, but why not we disagree to agree, we disagree to disagree or that we agree to agree?
3. Life is not a journey (that entails a known destination); it is mere wandering.
4. Wishes are to desire what sparks are to a fire.
5. Music plays to the emotions in ways that nobody understands - nobody.
6. Language carries our thoughts like a bucket with a hole in it.
7. You can't see there from there.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
A Transformation
A Transformation Much Desired
---- Big Frank Dickinson
"The unobtainable object of desire becomes truly undesirable when in point of fact it is truly unobtainable."
---- Anonymous
Go board a train to Kazakhstan,
Leave no forwarding address.
And when you get there put your identity
Up for auction at the local bazaar
To be purchased by the highest bidder
And taken far away by caravans of camels
To an oasis desert-swallowed,
Where traders come from distant isles
To barter for your name, then pack it up
And sail away to distant Singapore
En route kidnapped by individual pirates
Who sell your by-now nameless name
To an alchemist banshee tribe that somehow
Manages to extract the letters from the echos that remain,
Each one of which is condensed through magic old
Into a kind of prayer that's offered up in
Words forever folded in the jungle mist which
Spreads out and then sun-baked rises
High into the air crossing continents
Carried back utterly transformed;
Then rains down at long last obtainably
Unobtainable and truly undesired.
---- Big Frank Dickinson
"The unobtainable object of desire becomes truly undesirable when in point of fact it is truly unobtainable."
---- Anonymous
Go board a train to Kazakhstan,
Leave no forwarding address.
And when you get there put your identity
Up for auction at the local bazaar
To be purchased by the highest bidder
And taken far away by caravans of camels
To an oasis desert-swallowed,
Where traders come from distant isles
To barter for your name, then pack it up
And sail away to distant Singapore
En route kidnapped by individual pirates
Who sell your by-now nameless name
To an alchemist banshee tribe that somehow
Manages to extract the letters from the echos that remain,
Each one of which is condensed through magic old
Into a kind of prayer that's offered up in
Words forever folded in the jungle mist which
Spreads out and then sun-baked rises
High into the air crossing continents
Carried back utterly transformed;
Then rains down at long last obtainably
Unobtainable and truly undesired.
Us and Them
Us and Them
---- Big Frank Dickinson
"The self is not known directly but either observed in actions or inferred from social events, which is why the self is harder to know and understand than, say, a table or a spoon."
---- Roy Baumeister
What does it mean to say that
You know your car engine better than your heart,
Even if you never take it apart?
Is there some meaning attached
To the fact, you can show people your shoes
But are quite at a loss to point out your virtues?
We travel far to gaze out at famous vistas,
But neglect the close-by view of our fears,
Or the sight of confidence as a thin veneer.
Weather patterns, records, and trends are all recited,
Yet motivations, determinations and fights
Are all less well known than the night.
We tally up our bank account to the exact dollar
But rarely ask ourselves the meaning of the total sum
Of all it is that we have done.
The eye must go abroad in order to be lit.
Our planet came first into view
When we abandoned it.
---- Big Frank Dickinson
"The self is not known directly but either observed in actions or inferred from social events, which is why the self is harder to know and understand than, say, a table or a spoon."
---- Roy Baumeister
What does it mean to say that
You know your car engine better than your heart,
Even if you never take it apart?
Is there some meaning attached
To the fact, you can show people your shoes
But are quite at a loss to point out your virtues?
We travel far to gaze out at famous vistas,
But neglect the close-by view of our fears,
Or the sight of confidence as a thin veneer.
Weather patterns, records, and trends are all recited,
Yet motivations, determinations and fights
Are all less well known than the night.
We tally up our bank account to the exact dollar
But rarely ask ourselves the meaning of the total sum
Of all it is that we have done.
The eye must go abroad in order to be lit.
Our planet came first into view
When we abandoned it.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
What I Don't Know
What I Don't Know
---- Big Frank Dickinson
These are the things that I don't know:
The song of a tree with no leaves,
The age of a heart when on its knees,
The name of a lake that's been drained dry,
The purpose of an empty sigh,
Why words hold less than what you mean,
Our civilization's grasp of clean,
Determination's length of rope,
How it is that loss breeds hope,
The only way to get things done,
How the end just never comes,
The meaning of 'it had to be',
Why we think that life is free.
---- Big Frank Dickinson
These are the things that I don't know:
The song of a tree with no leaves,
The age of a heart when on its knees,
The name of a lake that's been drained dry,
The purpose of an empty sigh,
Why words hold less than what you mean,
Our civilization's grasp of clean,
Determination's length of rope,
How it is that loss breeds hope,
The only way to get things done,
How the end just never comes,
The meaning of 'it had to be',
Why we think that life is free.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
More Musings
Big Frank has not posted any musings for quite some time. It's time to get this latest collection down. No particular order - just random musings. These are all questions that Big Frank has asked himself and now you can too! If you want to share some answers - put them down as comments; everyone will enjoy that.
1. If there is a gap between who you are and who you would like to be, and this concerns you then think of the gap between who you used to be and who you are now. Does this make you feel better?
2. Why is it that some people's toes slant off from the big toe off to the pinky, while others go pretty much straight across? What's that about?
3. Why is it that people talk about multiple universes when "uni-" means one? That would be like talking about unicycles with multiple wheels, or uniforms that were all different, or unilateral talks that entailed two or three way dialogue, wouldn't it?
4. Do people riding recliner bikes feel like they are not working as hard as people sitting down when they ride, and do the sitters feel that the recliners are taking it too easy?
5. When you think do you ask yourself questions, then answer them, and then ask follow up questions etc. etc.? Or do dominate the conversation and not give yourself a chance to answer any questions?
6. When you pick goals for yourself - big ones - do you arrive at these goals via some kind of rational analysis, or do your feelings make the choice?
7. YOU - your unique identity; what is it? Is it the story you tell yourself about yourself? Is it the ghost in your body? Is it some kind of central control center in your head? Are you unitary or are you, like Walt Whitman, vast containing multitudes?
8. Do you think most other people are mostly like you, or do you see yourself as an outlier?
9. How much of your interior life do you share with others (anyone): nothing, 25%, half, most, or everything? Which secrets would you never ever tell anyone; why?
10. What question do you ask yourself most often (if you ask yourself any questions at all)?
11. What's the longest you have gone without talking to yourself; do you ever give yourself the silent treatment? How do you react?
1. If there is a gap between who you are and who you would like to be, and this concerns you then think of the gap between who you used to be and who you are now. Does this make you feel better?
2. Why is it that some people's toes slant off from the big toe off to the pinky, while others go pretty much straight across? What's that about?
3. Why is it that people talk about multiple universes when "uni-" means one? That would be like talking about unicycles with multiple wheels, or uniforms that were all different, or unilateral talks that entailed two or three way dialogue, wouldn't it?
4. Do people riding recliner bikes feel like they are not working as hard as people sitting down when they ride, and do the sitters feel that the recliners are taking it too easy?
5. When you think do you ask yourself questions, then answer them, and then ask follow up questions etc. etc.? Or do dominate the conversation and not give yourself a chance to answer any questions?
6. When you pick goals for yourself - big ones - do you arrive at these goals via some kind of rational analysis, or do your feelings make the choice?
7. YOU - your unique identity; what is it? Is it the story you tell yourself about yourself? Is it the ghost in your body? Is it some kind of central control center in your head? Are you unitary or are you, like Walt Whitman, vast containing multitudes?
8. Do you think most other people are mostly like you, or do you see yourself as an outlier?
9. How much of your interior life do you share with others (anyone): nothing, 25%, half, most, or everything? Which secrets would you never ever tell anyone; why?
10. What question do you ask yourself most often (if you ask yourself any questions at all)?
11. What's the longest you have gone without talking to yourself; do you ever give yourself the silent treatment? How do you react?
Friday, July 24, 2009
"High Noon"
Dreams Illuminated
---- Big Frank Dickinson
Wrapped in blue, she is staring out through
The open doorway in this dreamlike setting
Where the noonday sun drops down with minimal
Shadows striking the white clapboard house
Showing its features: peaked roof, curtained
Windows, red foundation, and erect brick chimney.
Desire is illuminated in
This dream of total isolation:
No vegetation surrounding this house,
No path to its front door, and behind
A flat and featureless horizon dominated
By dreamy wisps of clouds against a blue sky
Of the same color as her long ankle-length gown
Open down the front and with her left arm
Bent and reaching inside to touch her breast
As if to know the need that brought her here.
With her head tilted slightly to the right
She is looking at something within herself.
Out here one single shadows from the steep
Roof has fallen at an equally sharp angle
To point at her bare toe which is at
The threshold of exiting the dark interior.
Full illumination waits outside where
Dreams are cast aside and shadows fried.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Here it is!
What If?
---- Big Frank Dickinson
What if this premonition were real?
What if the intuitions played out and the blue
Skies did indeed open up; and then all that
Came with blue skies did indeed come?
Hold that thought. Hold on to it for now,
And keep it in your mind and in your heart.
Excluding the expectations - blue skies
Minus the hopes and fear - blue skies.
Look up and look out and look at
The life that you know you are capable of
At the optimism that leads you to
Look not only at the present opening
But at the confidence that allowed you
To look up and out and not down and in
Cast your expectation out over the horizon
And dwell on that reach, on that belonging.
The sky that surrounds your daily muddle
Is your accompanying entourage
That towers above you and trumpets the
Unrecognized joy that surrounds you - always.
Friday, July 17, 2009
City Sunlight - Hopper Painting Poem
Clear Determination?
---- Big Frank Dickinson
The sunlight in this painting streams in like wind
Blasting the room with light and forcefully
Smacking the woman in the face.
She stares into the rays with a look
That could be curiosity, disdain,
Determination, or perhaps resignation.
Sitting in this bare room and dressed
In a peach colored slip with her arm
Resting on the dark window sill, she is
Focused on the streaming sunlight to her right.
She has made up her mind (again) at this moment.
She looks into the sun and stares it down (she thinks).
It highlights her face in profile against
The dark window, and her low-cut cleavage,
Which she does not try to cover in any way,
Reveals the softness that she usually conceals.
She is now (she feels) as open to life
As the windows that compete with the sun
To dominate this room, one that she faces,
Two behind her, and one more seen through
The dark gaping window she rests her arm upon.
Their openness accents her desire,
Which she is certain will now be met.
Not so much sitting as standing at an incline,
And not (she feels) deceived by the sun's warmth.
Her force at long last is equal to the sun.
Heart overpowering the logic of Apollo
And his straightforward rational blast.
(This sunlight is but a pathetic mirror
Of the mental blast she usually gives herself.)
What moves her now comes from her breast,
Which has inspired her to move in a direction
That surely no one will have anticipated.
And surely the sun cannot outshine,
Her heart's desire, which (she believes) she'll soon have.
But not just yet: look at her face's outline,
Sunlit against the empty window black
It is clear her heart not will not have its way
Today, once more, the sun holds sway.
Her sunlit profile is still the same, its
Silhouette lost in the dark window pane.
July 17
July 17, 2009 - poetry and today.
Today, Big Frank rose with the birds. Actually there is a robin who has a nest built under Big Frank's deck, and she was already up when Big Frank started his coffee going at 6:30 this morning. Everytime that Big Frank goes out on the deck she yells at him to go back inside. Her chicks are getting pretty big and she's very portective - it won't be long now and they'll be out on their own. Why on earth was Big Frank up so early, given that he doesn't work on Fridays this summer? Good question; nonetheless he was up, and he stayed up. And went for a good long trail run before it got too hot, and then read some poetry to start the day. This day, July 17, seems to be a poetry day. Looking back - Big Frank was writing on the July 17 th. Yes . . . on this very day in 2007 and in 2008 it seems that poetry is what happens on this day. So happy July 17 - Cd!
So another July17 poem seems appropriate. It's coming . . . but in the next post.
Today, Big Frank rose with the birds. Actually there is a robin who has a nest built under Big Frank's deck, and she was already up when Big Frank started his coffee going at 6:30 this morning. Everytime that Big Frank goes out on the deck she yells at him to go back inside. Her chicks are getting pretty big and she's very portective - it won't be long now and they'll be out on their own. Why on earth was Big Frank up so early, given that he doesn't work on Fridays this summer? Good question; nonetheless he was up, and he stayed up. And went for a good long trail run before it got too hot, and then read some poetry to start the day. This day, July 17, seems to be a poetry day. Looking back - Big Frank was writing on the July 17 th. Yes . . . on this very day in 2007 and in 2008 it seems that poetry is what happens on this day. So happy July 17 - Cd!
So another July17 poem seems appropriate. It's coming . . . but in the next post.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Cycling
Big Frank recommends getting on your bicycle and riding . . . with him. Why, let me count the reasons:
1. Cycling is good for your heart and health
It is mainly an aerobic activity, which means that your heart, blood vessels and lungs all get a great workout. When you cycle you breathe deeper, perspire and experience increased body temperature, and this will improve your overall fitness level. In addition cycling will also:
Develop your fitness without joint stress
Give you better muscle tone and strength
Manage your weight (on average at least 300 calories per hour)
Heighten your energy levels
Manage any pain
And it helps reduce stress, anxiety and depression, partly through the physical activity itself, but also due to the pleasure and satisfaction of riding a bike.
2. Cycling reduces back pain by providing nourishment that discs in your spine need for development. The large muscles in the back develop and become stronger. And cycling strengthens the small muscles that support individual vertebrae.
3. Cycling can you a stronger immune system by boosting your immune system by increasing the production of cells that attack bacteria.
4. Cycling causes you to sweat, which is good for you because you sweat out toxins and (ideally) replace lost liquids with clean water.
5. Cycling can not only be a good form of exercise, but a very good social activity: meet new friends or spend time with that special someone to strengthen your relationship.
Finally go here for the poem on cycling, A Cycling Villenelle, that Big Frank wrote last year.
1. Cycling is good for your heart and health
It is mainly an aerobic activity, which means that your heart, blood vessels and lungs all get a great workout. When you cycle you breathe deeper, perspire and experience increased body temperature, and this will improve your overall fitness level. In addition cycling will also:
Develop your fitness without joint stress
Give you better muscle tone and strength
Manage your weight (on average at least 300 calories per hour)
Heighten your energy levels
Manage any pain
And it helps reduce stress, anxiety and depression, partly through the physical activity itself, but also due to the pleasure and satisfaction of riding a bike.
2. Cycling reduces back pain by providing nourishment that discs in your spine need for development. The large muscles in the back develop and become stronger. And cycling strengthens the small muscles that support individual vertebrae.
3. Cycling can you a stronger immune system by boosting your immune system by increasing the production of cells that attack bacteria.
4. Cycling causes you to sweat, which is good for you because you sweat out toxins and (ideally) replace lost liquids with clean water.
5. Cycling can not only be a good form of exercise, but a very good social activity: meet new friends or spend time with that special someone to strengthen your relationship.
Finally go here for the poem on cycling, A Cycling Villenelle, that Big Frank wrote last year.
Edward Hopper Could Not Paint This One
---- Big Frank Dickinson
- So I see it this way, I'm on this journey.
- Journey as life? Isn't that a cliche?
- No really life is a kind of journey isn't it?
- No really, when you try to encapsulate life in a cliche you learn nothing.
- Seriously, I mean, it's not the destination it's the journey.
- What the hell does that mean - journey as life?
- You know, you are going some place and not really getting there.
- What kind of a journey is that to go somewhere that you never arrive at?
- But isn't that what life is really all about - the journey?
- Can't you find another metaphor or at least another lexical item than "journey"?
- Don't you get it; it's like you are on this road and you need to look around.
- Who doesn't do that? Everybody looks around.
- No, I mean like when you are thinking all the time about the end of the road.
- Well, yeah, if you have an important appointment or are late to work, then you're not looking that much.
- But you should look - it's not about getting there after all.
- What do you mean it's not about getting there; you have to get there don't you?
- OK, yeah, but you don't have to think about getting there do you.
- You mean you are on autopilot and you know the road so well that you will get there anyway?
- Sort of - OK, let's say that you have it all mapped out and so you don't have to think about that.
- But that's not like life is it? I mean who has it all mapped out? Nobody.
- Yeah, but that's life; I'm talking about the journey, you know, the road and all.
- But wasn't that supposed to be like life, I mean it's supposed to be a metaphor - one thing represents the other.
- It does - life as journey, but not exactly. The journey has an end.
- Doesn't have to - there are some people who take off with no destination in mind.
- That would really be like life; OK - let's say it's a journey with no destination.
- But in that case there would be no temptation to not look around. There is no destination to obsess on is there.
- No, I guess not. So there you go - life as journey.
- Oh, OK - I guess that makes senses now; yeah.
- So, anyway, I was thinking: life really is like a journey isn't it?
- Yeah, but one without any destination, right?
- Oh, Ok that kind of journey, sure.
---- Big Frank Dickinson
- So I see it this way, I'm on this journey.
- Journey as life? Isn't that a cliche?
- No really life is a kind of journey isn't it?
- No really, when you try to encapsulate life in a cliche you learn nothing.
- Seriously, I mean, it's not the destination it's the journey.
- What the hell does that mean - journey as life?
- You know, you are going some place and not really getting there.
- What kind of a journey is that to go somewhere that you never arrive at?
- But isn't that what life is really all about - the journey?
- Can't you find another metaphor or at least another lexical item than "journey"?
- Don't you get it; it's like you are on this road and you need to look around.
- Who doesn't do that? Everybody looks around.
- No, I mean like when you are thinking all the time about the end of the road.
- Well, yeah, if you have an important appointment or are late to work, then you're not looking that much.
- But you should look - it's not about getting there after all.
- What do you mean it's not about getting there; you have to get there don't you?
- OK, yeah, but you don't have to think about getting there do you.
- You mean you are on autopilot and you know the road so well that you will get there anyway?
- Sort of - OK, let's say that you have it all mapped out and so you don't have to think about that.
- But that's not like life is it? I mean who has it all mapped out? Nobody.
- Yeah, but that's life; I'm talking about the journey, you know, the road and all.
- But wasn't that supposed to be like life, I mean it's supposed to be a metaphor - one thing represents the other.
- It does - life as journey, but not exactly. The journey has an end.
- Doesn't have to - there are some people who take off with no destination in mind.
- That would really be like life; OK - let's say it's a journey with no destination.
- But in that case there would be no temptation to not look around. There is no destination to obsess on is there.
- No, I guess not. So there you go - life as journey.
- Oh, OK - I guess that makes senses now; yeah.
- So, anyway, I was thinking: life really is like a journey isn't it?
- Yeah, but one without any destination, right?
- Oh, Ok that kind of journey, sure.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
One of These Days
One of These Days
----- Big Frank Dickinson
One of these days
I'm gonna wake up and you'll be gone.
I will bend like the trees in the wind
Resound like rustling leaves;
Roughly jostled, but singing to be alive.
I'm gonna see myself as I am and
Not as I think I should be.
I'm gonna treasure the bond of those
That stay with me as they can and
Not regret what they could not be,
Nor part from me nor me from them
Because of what we cannot be.
I'm gonna speak the truth
In the face of the cliche.
I'm will travel with an empty suitcase
And fill it as I go.
I will look at the scenery that passes
And not at me.
I will wake not with thoughts of what wasn't
But with the excitement about what is coming.
I am going to be exactly as I am,
And not an approximation of what I could be.
I will sing the song of everyday,
And not the dirge of what went astray.
I will look in the mirror and see myself.
I will walk down the street and feel the beat
Of my feet in rhythm to the syncopation
Of my heart and know that we are going
Together to a place where there are others
Or none, lovers, or some approximation
Who join me in being, just being together.
----- Big Frank Dickinson
One of these days
I'm gonna wake up and you'll be gone.
I will bend like the trees in the wind
Resound like rustling leaves;
Roughly jostled, but singing to be alive.
I'm gonna see myself as I am and
Not as I think I should be.
I'm gonna treasure the bond of those
That stay with me as they can and
Not regret what they could not be,
Nor part from me nor me from them
Because of what we cannot be.
I'm gonna speak the truth
In the face of the cliche.
I'm will travel with an empty suitcase
And fill it as I go.
I will look at the scenery that passes
And not at me.
I will wake not with thoughts of what wasn't
But with the excitement about what is coming.
I am going to be exactly as I am,
And not an approximation of what I could be.
I will sing the song of everyday,
And not the dirge of what went astray.
I will look in the mirror and see myself.
I will walk down the street and feel the beat
Of my feet in rhythm to the syncopation
Of my heart and know that we are going
Together to a place where there are others
Or none, lovers, or some approximation
Who join me in being, just being together.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Roman Nose Lake
Roman nose lake - acutally upper Roman Nose Lake located to the west of Bonners Ferry, Idaho is great hike, located just below the treeline with gorgeous high alpine scenery, and very few people. Big Frank and Laura made the hike up to upper Roman Nose Lake and enjoyed the scenery over a short snack and a couple of small bottles of wine:) A great hike, great day, and a great place!
For more photos of Roman Nose Lake and more details of the hiking possibilities see here.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
X Fading Away
The Fading X
---- Big Frank Dickinson
X marked the spot; and what an X it was;
Time it was and what a time it was; it was
An etherial X, it was an airy X; and it was
Quite evident (to me anyway), that the X was, it was there
Right up above me pointing down in
An obvious way (that is what the center
Of an X does) that is its purpose, after all,
To point to a spot, in this case ME, the sign,
The X and me. So in a way I was pointing
With the X - this is where I am. I am the spot.
An X in the sky cannot mark the sky; that
Is only an abstraction, an aspiration, a reaching
Of sorts: you know "a man's reach should exceed
his grasp . . .". That X above me was my excessive
Indication - the overly obvious unreachable mark of me
but now . . .The X is fading, slowly inevitably melting
Into the blue background of everyday everything
And me? I'm still here, but soon that here
Will be there, a there without an X, as it was.
No more idealized, ethereal, overreaching leads;
No more, I'm on the ground, and the only way
of finding me is through me - no more X's.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Carolina Morning
Carolina Morning
---- Big Frank Dickinson
.
This South Carolina morning is bright
With the new day and clean in the light
That shines unblinkingly with hope for
The woman in the red dress who stands
On the brink of that day, in the doorway
Of this beach cottage with the closed green shutters,
Two on each side of her, whose very legs
Stand in parallel to those shutters but whose
One foot is posed one inch over the doorstep,
Ready to step out and into this new day; still
It is with such reluctance that she stands with
Her head leaning the opposite of her foot which
Leads her onward despite her apprehensive squint
That she prepares for herself even though her red
Broad brimmed hat is shading her eyes from
The direct sun that clearly and warmly covers the
Entire scene beyond her: warm yellow beach grass,
Distant dark blue sea, and soothingly pastel blue sky.
Surely, she will step out and her arms so squarely
Holding up her breasts will let go and allow
Herself to meet what morning means for her.
Monday, July 6, 2009
A Cumulous of Company
---- Big Frank Dickinson
The open road is flat and gray, winding
Somewhat with broken stripes that mark
That center, keeping you to some middle
Course that you set for yourself
Some time ago, with some prefixed goal
Of one sort or another, and the grind,
The whining finds you rolling along with
No more thought of the glory that accompanies
Your journey than the thought given that
That you are a glorious accompaniment to someone else.
Still they are with you as surely as the clouds
Above and in the same way as their everychanging
Configurations they ecompass you within
Their beauty; your friends' constant but changing
Interactions is your unique but often unnoticed skyscape.
The true beauty of the course is marked
By them; their impressions mark our
Days, as surely as our connections mark theirs.
Look not just where you are going, but also
Who it is that is traveling with you for that is the
Beuaty you're in; it's not the road - it's the
Cumulous of company that travels with you.
[Photo by Big Frank Dickinson: just west of Deer Lodge, Montana]
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Big Frank heads home
The reunion is over and all now go their separate ways. Big Frank is heading back across 700 miles of Montana and is about half way. He has stopped in Bozeman to get a little coffeed up for the second half. Maybe he'll go all the way today, and then again . . . maybe not.
He's shot a few photos along the way - some of his favorite sites: 1. the badlands of western North Dakota, 2. Pompey's Pillar (east of Billings), 3. Clouds on the horizon east of Billings.
Last reunion night
Big Frank had dinner with the Titan 69ers, and then joined the DHS 69ers for a joint renunion. There was lots of head scratching as people tried to remember who it was that was standing in front of them. The memories clarified - usually. Above are a few photos from each place.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
69ers in the parade
The Class of 1969 - Big Frank's graduating class gets ready to be in the Roughrider Parade on the Fourth of July in Dickinson. The Parade was terrific, lots of kids scrambling for candy, bands playing marches and polkas, horses strutting their stuff, old cars full of dignitaries, and a flatbed carrying the Class of 1969!
Trinity 69ers begin the reunion!
The reunion begins with a social at the Eagles club (Dave, Gerri, and Spike).
Quentin and Karen back from Wolf Point!
Joanie is having a good time (Ken and BJ in deep conversation).
Friday, July 3, 2009
The Big Frank Dickinson Homestead
Above is the house that Big Frank grew up in Dickinson. This is where his mother and step-father now live. It is also the home that his mother grew up in, and that his grandfather bought way back some 100 years ago or so. Two full families grew up, three generations, and now with the grandchildren visting, the house is into its fourth generation. The first resident (Big Frank's grandfather) came to Dickinson when it was still Dakota Territory. The house originally had a huge barn in the backyard for horses, carriages, etc. That was torn down when Big Frank was just a kid. The voices, the activities, drama, transitions of time and family love reverberate in the walls. Big Frank feels it.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
The Reunion Begins At Joe's (as usual)
Big Frank joined the first group of his highschool classmates at Joe's place this evening. Joe and his wife, Nancy, hosted Big Frank, Ken, Spike, and BJ for a great evening of brews, steaks, and great conversation that went on late into the night. It is so good to reunite with good friends.
BFG and DSU
Dickinson meets Dickinson when Big Frank headed up the hill to his alma mater - Dickinson State University. Without getting into too much detail, or any, for that matter, let's just say that there were a lot of memories surrounding Big Frank as he walked the corridors of Dickinson State. No welcome party was there to greet Big Frank, but he wouldn't have had it any other way.
Big Frank tours Dickinson
Big Frank is back in his hometown, his namesake, or is he its namesake - hard to say. In any case, he headed out to hit three well-known local spots to document. The first is the former St. John's Episcopal Church attended by Teddy Roosevelt between 1882 and 1884 when he was living in Dakota Terriory west of Dickinson. It is now a coffe bar: Bad Lands Brew. Above are a few shots taken outside and in along his family: Joan, Kathy, and BJ.
Next we all went to the library. Dickinson has one of those original Carnegie Libraries. This one was originally built in 1908, and now has a generous expansion to it gorgeously fitted out with period Mission furniture.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Family Reunion in Dickinson
Big Frank is back in Dickinson visiting with the family. Below are a few pictures of the family - those few who could make it: Kathy, John, BJ, and Joan and Bob. Kath and John drove down from Minot and B J flew in from CA. It was fun talking, cooking tacos, taking pictures, and walking around the old home town. More to come!
Into North Dakota - Clouds Merge
Leaving Miles City there appeared a wonderful opening in the sky above Big Frank. It looked like a magic cave in the sky, the kind of cave that when you enter you suddenly find yourself in the midst of great adventures that in the end enrich you in friendship and wealth - along with amazing stories to tell everyone. Unfortunately this sky cave was about 4 miles straight up, and if you look closely you can see some kind of a troll cloud approaching to cause trouble. So Big Frank sped on underneath and further on down the line to NORTH DAKOTA (almost as a good as a sky cave).
Then just to the west of Fallon, Montana a wonderful display of soft blue tinted clouds painted the horizon above the wide green plains. Big Frank could now actually smell North Dakota. Onward!
NORTH DAKOTA. OK, this sky was somewhat of a disappointment. The badlands underneath are gorgeous - this is NORTH DAKOTA. Finally Big Frank is here, but the ky? What's with the sky - it is raining!
Cloudy in Miles City
Big Frank spent the night in Miles City, Montana. This morning he is having coffee at Brewsters and looking at a mixed sky. The darkness that hangs over it could either lift or overpower. Big Frank is betting on the blue. Next stop is Glendive, Montana and then a sprint to the North Dakota border and a real breakfast under North Dakota skies - can't wait to see what that sky holds in store. The woman in the booth next to Big Frank is talking about her unusually high blood pressure. However, the woman she is sitting with is having none of that and is telling her about a good low calory sour cream to use in a recipe. Over the speakers Big Frank is surprised to hear the cafe is playing Death Cab for Cuties' "You Gotta Spend Some Time Love!" Who would have thought this song, which Big Frank was just playing would be played in a cafe in Miles City.
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