Harry Drabik


Content By This Contributor:

Mon. Jun. 11th, 2012

My Happiness

Harry Drabik

I stood before the microwave the other day when a bolt hit, stopping me dead as a frozen fish stick, which as you know is the very sign and signal of the grimmest reaper on the planet. From fish stick death there is no return. Frozen fish is so far from life it reaches extraterrestrial alien status. With fish sticks I have no quarrel, other than avoiding them and feeling sorry for them in their little cardboard coffins in the freezer section. The decent thing would be a deep hole and a tasteful service; taste being otherwise denied said frozen fish except for salt making them salty.

Thu. May. 24th, 2012

Let Me Offend You

Harry Drabik

There’s a Sam Clemens story titled “The Man That Corrupted Hadleyburg.” Hadleyburg is a pious town with a high moral tone the townsfolk insist on rigidly enforcing. Their piety is so extreme and unthinking it becomes itself a corruption in need of major reform. I won’t go over-long on the details, but the corrup

Fri. May. 18th, 2012


Harry Drabik

The sun came out the other day. I quickly took advantage to go outdoors to check the yard without having to wear a headlamp or carry a flashlight. Work in the garden is more cumbersome when lighting is needed. I hardly got moving toward the side yard when I spotted an invader. Gads, seems early this

Fri. May. 11th, 2012

The Jesus Bank

Harry Drabik

I almost forgot a curious thing connected to our family move to the North Shore (apparently with a plan of going broke in record time) when I was twelve. An odd age, twelve: I’ll characterize it as late-stage infancy with adult pretensions. In the foggy dew of my youth, I was ignorantly unaware of the sublime idiocy of my very able tool-and-die-maker father migrating to a place where

Fri. May. 4th, 2012

It’s one or the other

Harry Drabik

I talked last week with a couple interested in moving up the shore for retirement. Comparing it to their urban area, they asked how newcomers fared along the clearly more homogenous North Shore. I said (and it is true) our little shore communities are uniformly friendly. Then without further thought (a well-documented problem) I added, “But remember, if not born here you’ll always be an outsider, possibly socialist.” They laughed. My com

Fri. Apr. 27th, 2012

Curious indigestions of spring

Harry Drabik

I had business up the Trail last week. It was a beautiful day when I left home along the shore. The sun was bright on the big lake. An hour drive made a difference. The sky clouded over like a layer of greasy wax paper. In the space of a mile, the outside temp fell from 34 to 26 as I drove into a snow squall with all the entertainment of trying to navigate inside a feather-filled pillow. It wasn’t

Thu. Apr. 12th, 2012

Minnesota Nice

Harry Drabik

The Northland shares the “nice” tradition, a reputation to be proud of. When I think of the unconscious discrimination and stereotyping present when I grew up, it’s hardly asking too much to exercise some self-restraint. On the other side, there are those who see “nice” as objectionable. To them, the habit dangerously intrudes political correctness into free speech. There’s merit there, too, because free speech is nothing to take lightly or for granted. Indeed, there are risks in being too nice or overly correct, if in so doing one becomes either doormat or an enabler. The individual must retain the right not to be nice for use as needed.

Thu. Apr. 5th, 2012

Going, going, gone

Harry Drabik

The other day outside a convenience store, I ran into a neighbor I hadn’t seen in a while. I stopped to say hi and otherwise pretend I was a decently sociable human being. If you recall last week, there were some windy and chilly days. Well, it’s north shore in spring, so wind and cold are the norm. I recall one May wearing a parka and choppers to water my new grass (lawn). It was like that outside the store talking to someone buffered from t

Thu. Mar. 29th, 2012

It’s more than a word

Harry Drabik

We live where it’s sometimes hard to know what to call the time of year. Is it spring? Or are we better off saying mud time or pre-bug season? Our end of winter isn’t like the sunny Easter to the south, but then ours comes minus tornados, so I’m not complaining. Northland spring is a multi-word affair. I’d vote for “ice-out, frost on the ground, too soon to plant, fire at night, bumpy road, no bugs time of year.

Thu. Mar. 22nd, 2012


Harry Drabik

I was asked recently about an article. The question: Was I beating war drums? Well no, I wasn’t, but in 1,000 words (plus my ability to muddle) a single clear theme might get lost in the shuffle. Nonetheless, I take responsibility for what I attempted in the spirit in which I attempted it. Sorry my intent wa

Thu. Mar. 1st, 2012

Burnt to the Ground

Harry Drabik

No, the title isn’t world news. Inside while snow flew, I remembered an incident when I was six. Mother going to lie down with a headache (I’m sure it had nothing to do with me) presented a perfect opportunity for a camping adventure...

Fri. Feb. 17th, 2012


Harry Drabik

Some don’t recall it, while others don’t wish to acknowledge how at one time public education was a model for American values and progress. Most parents, if it was within their reach, wanted better for their children. Before “public” education was available, the likely ways to do this were by signing a child (sometimes for a fee) to indentured service (free labor) so he (in general only males were educated) could learn skills, to a guild (much the same as indenture), or a favored few (in part due to limited capacity) were allowed entry to a church school where a boy learned to copy, sing, and do menial work. The poor and their children had little opportunity to move above their station in life. Many children learned skills strictly from work with their parents or in their community, the majority of whose members were illiterate. The Protestant Reformation with its emphasis on individuals reading the Bible in their own tongue caused many parishes to provide limited education, primarily in reading, often excluding fem

Thu. Feb. 2nd, 2012

Stokers and other things lost

Harry Drabik

As a kid in Chicago I remember our basement holding an item that was my father’s pride and joy. (It seemed to rival me in his affection, so I remember it very well.) That item, kept gleaming clean despite ...

Thu. Jan. 26th, 2012

Tough Sledding

Harry Drabik

Thinking about the forthcoming John Beargrease Race, I was reminded of an old friend who in melodic Swedish voice used to say, “We’ve got two seasons: winter and a couple months of tough sledding.” He’s gone ...

Fri. Dec. 30th, 2011

Will it be a Happy New Year?

Harry Drabik

If the Maya are correct we are in for big a bad time, as in an End-of-the-World style trouble. Well, it is possible, though in my view you’d need to push the notion of possible very far ...

Fri. Dec. 23rd, 2011

Christmas Presents

Harry Drabik

I don’t have my outdoor lights up. A few years I missed getting them out completely. It depends on the weather and what comes up. I’m not too concerned though. As a kid I more than made up for any seasonal deficiencies now ...

Fri. Dec. 2nd, 2011

Old Dishes

Harry Drabik

Over Thanksgiving while looking for a serving bowl I found a stray cup, the sort of thing most would rightly discard. Even in a second hand store how much value is found in one old cup?

Fri. Nov. 18th, 2011

Politics at daddy’s knee.

Harry Drabik

I learned what I’d call a form of “hard knocks” politics from my father. In his mind and words my dad was absolutely a staunch conservative who knew what was right and would not back down. He was adamant about that.

Fri. Nov. 11th, 2011

Lazy Bums

Harry Drabik

This time of year my local Post Office falls short on providing source material because with chill winds blowing and chores to get done between rain showers and before the snow flies we don’t linger as much to chew into mulch whatever it is ...

Fri. Nov. 4th, 2011

It’s easy to forget

Harry Drabik

It’s easy to lose sight of how fortunate we are to live where we do. The approach of winter (we can’t stop its arrival) causes a certain amount of “it’s coming to get us” anxiety, but we pull ourselves together and soldier on knowing there’s ...