Last weekend my friends Dani & Lacy entered a women's fishing tournament at Lake Sakakawea.

They tied for 1st in the biggest Walleye competition. Their fish was 4.6 lbs.

Oy. Lots of things to report, but the days are too nice and long to spend time at a computer. The family reunion is over. Great times there. Now I'm going swimming with Lindsay at Lake Sakakawea.

I have become another piece of history at Dunn County Historical Museum. My days as Curator are over as of today. I'm mostly happy, but feel a twinge of sadness, too. It was a good job.

In other news, there is a Sand family reunion going on this week on Killdeer Mountain. I'll write more about it later, but for now here's a picture of Hannah Joy getting baptized, earlier today, in the spring.

Today I played a fun outdoor show at the Rhubarb Fest in Washburn, ND. The performance took place at Fort Mandan (the fort that served as the winter headquarters for Lewis & Clark's Corps of Discovery during the winter of 1804-05.) My friend V also performed, interspersing a few of her songs during my set. V is a bona fide cowgirl from Wyoming. She sings some of the most authentic "Western" music I've ever heard.

My pal Alex from Winona, MN, surprised me by showing up towards the end of the show with his Grandma Alma and Aunt Ardie. According to Alex, Alma has been a Sandfan since 1999. It was sweet to finally meet her.

The folks at Fort Mandan are a class act. They fed me lunch, supplied a sound system, paid me well, and rallied a nice crowd. The only negative of the day is that I ate too many rhubarb desserts and acquired a mild stomach ache.

Every day when I walk to work, I see a rabbit and a mourning dove communing amorously beneath a solitary juniper tree. Interspecies love is not uncommon out here. My neighbor had a cow who birthed a clamb (calf-lamb). The neighbor's ram purportedly rammed down the gate and finessed his way into a Hereford heifer's heart.

This same neighbor claims she caught a fish once that was half pike and half catfish.

In the 1940s my grandparents had a female cat that lived in one of their sheds. During a cold spell in December of 1946, a rangy jackrabbit seduced this feline. For an unusual winter, the mammals shared a woodshed and, come spring of '47, an offspring. The grandparents called it a "hop cat."

Happy summer solstice. The longest day of the year . . .

Bittersweet, indeed.

When I lived in Nashville in the late 90's I had some brushes with country music royalty. At one honky tonk I witnessed Hank Williams III get drunk and rowdy to a packed house. Midway through his set, a middle-aged woman squeezed in next to me. At some point she let me know that the inebriated singer was her son. I asked if she still got along with his dad, Bocephus. She cussed his name and let me know what a skunk he'd been as dad to Hank III.

A nicer Nashville father-son story, though, was when I was dating an Australian singer/songwriter named Sherry Rich. One night, at some downtown bar, we ran into her friend Bobby Bare Jr., son of legendary Bobby Bare. Bare Jr. spoke warmly of his father. Here's an endearing duet they sang in 1973.

Upcoming shows:

June 23 - Washburn, ND @ Rhubarb Festival. 2 p.m. Free.

July 9 - Minot, ND @ 62 Doors Gallery (11B S. Main) w/ Calvin Johnson & Luke Graner. 7 p.m. $3-$5.

July 10 - Bismarck, ND @ Stringbean Coffee House (on Divide & Grandview) w/ Calvin Johnson & Luke Graner. 6 p.m. $3.

July 10 - Somewhere in western North Dakota.

On this Father's Day evening I had supper with my folks and grandfolks up at the Mountain. I took Dad candy bars and Gramps some raspberries. After supper Grandpa entertained us with harmonica tunes. Grandma told me that she's heard through the relatives that I sometimes perform "dirty" songs. I had a hard time tryin' to explain that one, let me tell ya, but I think she appreciated my explanation.

I'm lovin' these long nights. I hiked to the beaver dams after supper. A white-tail doe snorted fiercely at me. I saw a baby bunny and a beady-eyed beaver, too.

Yesterday morning I swam in Lake Sakakawea with Lindsay. In the afternoon she joined me in Manning for a covered-pit outdoor barbecue feast. I played guitar and sang and got two suppers in trade, plus a succulent hunk of roast wrapped in denim. We had the roast for supper at Grandpa and Grandma's tonight, along with other good things. For dessert Grandma served vanilla ice cream covered in blueberry-rhubarb syrup.

The tidal wave of life has swamped Sand Land, USA. I'm pretty much under water at the moment. I gave my two-week notice of resignation at the Museum. I'm considering driving for Goodall Trucking out of Killdeer. My friendly old license plates "HIY 918" were stolen. I replaced them today with new ones--they assigned me with the unfriendly "HTE 092" (which sounds to me like a Nazi skinhead radio station). The grass outside my house is almost three feet high! My neighbors are disgusted with me. Allergy season has started. My Fantasy Baseball team is slumping. Brother Raymond cussed me out for writing about him in my public journal.

But besides all that, I feel pretty darn good. I've got a date with Lindsay Danger tomorrow evening for one thing. There might be some fishing involved.

Last night I had supper at Lindsay's parents' ranch. They served elk, walleye, and catfish, along with other finger-lickin' fixins and dessert. As I was driving home, Shawn Goodall called to invite me to float with him and a couple others down the Little Missouri River. I met them at 6:00 this morning and we put in at the Long X Bridge north of Grassy Butte. We paddled 52 miles (10 hours) to the Lost Bridge, where we pulled out. Along the way we saw 1 owl, 2 elk, 2 buzzards, 3 deer, 6 beavers, 11 pelicans, and a host of other birds (mergansers, blue heron, Canadian geese, hawks, songbirds). The buttes and badlands were greener than Al Gore. The Little Missouri was muddier than McKinley Morganfield.

This is my brother Raymond. He became a minister a couple years ago and recently moved to Zimbabwe. In his day he was a rowdy rodeo athlete, but now he lives a quiet life of service and meditation. He's 40 and has never had a girlfriend. Mom thinks he's gay. I asked him about it once, and he said, "I'm only gay below the waist. My torso and head belong to God." Ray has a strange sense of humor.

Grandpa Sand turned 88 today, and Grandma Edna Sand turned 87 last month.

Grandma Viola Herak turned 87 two weeks ago.

Happy birthdays to all three of you!

In the middle of the road of my life
I awoke in a dark wood
Where the true way was wholly lost.
-Dante

Astronomy 101: Last night's full moon was the second one of the month. This only happens once every 2 1/2 years.

It's been raining non-stop for 24 hours. Farmers and ranchers are happy.

Grandma beat Grandpa and me at three-handed pinochle (again) tonight. Venison for supper. I sure love those two lovable people.

Today at work, I put the finishing touches on our new Museum website. We own a program that allows us to easily create/update each page anytime we feel like it. I'll post the link shortly.

Lindsay flew back to Seattle today to tie up loose ends and pick up her cat and dog--but not her car which got repossessed. Long story there. She'll fly back to NoDak in a week.

This is blog post #1,111.

Lindsay Danger with her Grandpa Bill.

Today I was supposed to play at the 21st Annual Dakota Cowboy Poetry Gathering in Medora, ND, but I had my times wrong and missed my slot. It would've been my third year in a row playing there.

Last night I drove 30 miles north to Lindsay's folks' ranch and ate enchiladas and played a few songs around a fire. Lindsay's younger sister, Alex, just graduated from Watford City High School, so there were lots of relatives hangin' out.

My date with Lindsay Danger on Wednesday was enjoyable. We've got another date tomorrow. She's a ballerina/photographer/digital artist/wine connoisseur who likes to wear dresses and high-heeled shoes. We had supper at the Buckskin.

My Fantasy Baseball team did awesome today. John Smoltz and Braden Looper both pitched masterfully, and Magglio Ordóñez went four-for-four with three runs and three RBIs. Yesterday he hit two homers. He is my best player this year. Ken Griffey Jr. is having a great season, too. Jimmy Rollins started out hot, but now he's slumping. My other top players are Carlos Lee, B.J. Upton, Al Reyes, Brian Roberts, and Oliver Pérez--all ranked in the top 50 in the league. Albert Pujols was ranked #1 when I chose him, but now he's ranked #159. And Carlos Zambrano dropped from #40 to #862. He's been my biggest disappointment so far. Overall, though, I've got some top-notch talent. Hopefully my good luck will endure.

Metaphor of the Day:

"My body is the devil's credit card."
-David S.

A friend of mine describing his current ragged physical state of health.

There's a thunderstorm goin' on. Not only in my head, but outside in the sky.

Sometimes frustrations trip me up. That's when I write ranting, wrathful raps.

My recurrent, tired gripe has been this: Where is our leader? I mean, who's our President? The slot's been vacant for so long. Decades maybe.

Franklin D. Roosevelt had something. Lincoln comes to mind as the last awesome Prez. Some say Clinton, Reagan, Kennedy, Eisenhower, Truman, and/or Teddy Roosevelt were great. I dislike them all, more or less. I like Washington. Jefferson. Yolanda King. Sam Cooke.

After listening to "A Change is Gonna Come," which Cooke wrote partly in response to Dylan's "Blowin' in the Wind," I see the storm's blown over, and there's the rainbow. Not only in my head, but in the sky above Halliday.

The moral: Music makes me happy. Politics, not so much.

And by the way, Cooke does a good cover of "Blowin' in the Wind" in this video. Dylan repaid the compliment forty years later, though some won't see it as a compliment. I like it, though.

"Weird Al" Yankovic strikes again.

Mother's Day Proclamation - 1870

by *Julia Ward Howe

Arise then...women of this day!
Arise, all women who have hearts!
Whether your baptism be of water or of tears!
Say firmly:
"We will not have questions answered by irrelevant agencies,
Our husbands will not come to us, reeking with carnage,
For caresses and applause.
Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn
All that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience.
We, the women of one country,
Will be too tender of those of another country
To allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs."

From the voice of a devastated Earth a voice goes up with
Our own. It says: "Disarm! Disarm!
The sword of murder is not the balance of justice."
Blood does not wipe our dishonor,
Nor violence indicate possession.
As men have often forsaken the plough and the anvil
At the summons of war,
Let women now leave all that may be left of home
For a great and earnest day of counsel.
Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead.
Let them solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means
Whereby the great human family can live in peace...
Each bearing after his own time the sacred impress, not of Caesar,
But of God -
In the name of womanhood and humanity, I earnestly ask
That a general congress of women without limit of nationality,
May be appointed and held at someplace deemed most convenient
And the earliest period consistent with its objects,
To promote the alliance of the different nationalities,
The amicable settlement of international questions,
The great and general interests of peace.
-------------------------------------------------
*Julia Ward Howe is most famous for writing "Battle Hymn of the Republic" which was published in 1862.

It used to be North Dakota didn't have many trees, so when the homesteaders came along about 100 years ago they tried to plant as many as they could. During the dust bowl era trees were about the only thing holding the soil in place. Currently many countries in Africa are dealing with a similar crisis and desperately need trees.

If you're looking for an interesting last-minute Mother's Day gift, look here. A $30 donation will pay for the costs of planting a tree in South Africa. That's what I just did in honor of my mom and my two grandmas. (But don't mention it to them until Sunday.)

Two of a kind.

What's new? Well . . .

1. I'm now going to a physical therapist in Dickinson, to get help with strengthening my back.
2. I'm getting a business plan together so that I can acquire the Dunn Center Auditorium.
3. A Dunn Center acquaintance of mine committed suicide over the weekend.
4. Grandma Sand turned 87 yesterday.
5. I've got a date with a woman named Lindsay Danger. I have to wait two weeks, though.
6. Blossoms are blooming. Honey bees are buzzing. Spring has officially arrived in Dunn County.
7. My Fantasy Baseball team is almost in last place.
8. Tomorrow I'll shave my winter beard.
9. I bought a second-hand typewriter so that I can type a new book of lyrics.

This is how I will celebrate Cinco de Mayo this year:

1) I will join my rowdy Killdeer friends at Shawn Goodall's shop at 3 p.m.
2) Alejandro "The Chilean Horse Whisperer" Chacon will roast a pig.
3) We will feast, drink booze, and watch the pay-per-view Floyd Mayweather/Oscar de la Hoya fight.
4) We will shoot hoops.

¡Viva Mexico!

A couple unsolicited testimonials from my time in Waconia, MN:

"Everyone is still talkin' about your show - even friends that couldn't make it and have heard how much fun we had listening to a world class entertainer . . . I have had 3 inquiries just today about when you will be back this way." Lynda W.

"Those of you who weren't there missed a good one . . . The Sandman (was) an unbelievable mix of talents, part philosopher, part comedian, part poet, part rapper, part musician, all crazier than a ...! Should be famous." Dr. Sam D.

Third man ever to walk on water!