
About this episode
Mischke finds the headlines wildly bizarre, and endlessly entertaining. But that doesn't keep him from getting deathly serious about the screaming hell of the battlefield.
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Garage Logic — MISCHKE: Give Me The News. Machine-transcribed; use the interactive transcript above to jump the player to any line.
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And my name's Mishki. In the world of news, they say if it bleeds, it leads. It's no different here. I've got a headline for you. Quadruple amputee cornhole player fatally shoots man. That's a real headline from a serious media outlet in the United States. Quadruple amputee cornhole player fatally shoots man. No, I'm not saying there's a band out there in need of a name, and I've got your name.
But let's face it, I've got your name. You starting a band? You could do a lot worse than quadruple amputee cornhole player. Anybody out there with a new garage band? QACP, that's your band. Quadruple amputee cornhole player. He's a quadruple amputee. You put that in any headline in America, and I'm probably reading that story. Quadruple amputee climbs Everest. I'm reading it. Just want to see how he did it. Quadruple amputee featured on the Bachelorette. The NFL's first quadruple amputee taken in the third round of this year's draft. Quadruple amputee enjoys kite flying. He enjoys both flying a kite, and from time to time, being the kite being flown. No, I'm not going to do anything with this story, beyond let you know, that a quadruple amputee cornhole player fatally shot a man.
The quadruple amputee wrestled with the gun first, trying to get a hold of it. That took half the day. When he eventually successfully did manipulate the gun, he was able to aim it and fatally shoot a man, while he played cornhole. If I had a nickel for every quadruple amputee cornhole player, I've stumbled upon in this crazy life of mine. Did anybody out there happen to hear the may or say today's been named quadruple amputee cornhole player day? As a newsman, I feel the need to get to more news. Here's another story with an interesting headline, Cheerleading mogul dies in pickleball accident. It's a real headline. First of all, there are cheerleading moguls. Didn't know that was a thing. Maybe it's not anymore. This might have been the only one in the world, and he's dead.
Cheerleading mogul dies in pickleball accident. His name's Jeff Webb, or was. He was born in Dallas, Texas, in the late 40s, attended the University of Oklahoma, where he served as a yell leader for the school's cheer squad. This is from his obit people. I'm not making this up. He served as a yell leader. For the school's cheerleading squad. Yell, Y-E-L-L, he was the yell leader. I didn't know that was a position either. I thought cheerleading meant you got the pom-poms and you did a little movement, shook your money maker, you know what I'm saying? No, there's yelling and someone's got to lead that. So Jeff Webb did that at the University of Oklahoma, and he liked it so much that after he got out of college, instead of going to law school, he had planned to go to law school. He accepted and offered to work for the National Cheerleaders Association. And that launched his whole business career. He was credited with modernizing cheerleading
by making it more competitive and by introducing new uniform designs. He founded and served as the president of the International Cheerleading Union, the world governing body, for the sport of cheerleading. I didn't know all of this existed. I've been out of the cheerleading loop. It all started for Jeff Webb when someone said, Jeff, we're going to need a yell leader. He was in college, getting stoned and is dormed, didn't know what to do with his day, ended up spending the afternoon as a yell leader, and Harry dies late in life in a pickle ball accident. A sport that doesn't even have cheerleaders. An ignominious end for Jeff Webb. I don't want at the end of my life to have the last headline about me say I died in a pickle ball accident. If I could get out of this world without the headline, Mishki dies in pickle ball accident, that would be swell. I think the key for me is to never play pickle ball, so far so good on that.
I don't want to read how you can die playing pickle ball. I feel badly for Jeff mostly because of the headline, the death too, but the headline, that's the last headline we're going to get about Jeff. To me, it's like reading the headline, man dies in Shereids fiasco. In my perfect world, we would all grow old and die in our sleep. There would be no interesting headlines about death. We would just all die in our sleep when we're old. Doesn't that sound so lovely? That could be the headline. Older fella passes away in the midst of lovely midwinter slumber. What a beautiful thing to read in the morning. Grab your cup of coffee, you read the news. Older fella passes away in midst of a lovely midwinter slumber. I read today in my research that only a small minority of people actually go to sleep at night when they're old and failed to wake up, and yet that is what the vast majority of older people
long for. That exact type of death, in surveys, that's what old people want, and so few get it. I remember when my grandpa died in his sleep. He was quite old, and I said to my dad, afterward, well, that was kind of a nice pop, huh? What a sweet way to go. And my dad said, ordinarily, I'd agree with you, son, but earlier in the day I had been working on your grandfather's furnace, and I left a shut-off valve open. Yeah, he died in his sleep, but he died in his sleep from carbon monoxide poisoning. I said to my dad, well, I'd leave that part out of the old bit. Just mention that grandpa died in his sleep. My dad said, ordinarily, I would do that, son, but his wife, my stepmother, is pretty pissed off right now, and she plans to have that carbon monoxide thing front and center in the newspaper.
Spouses always get final say on obits, kid. Well, she doesn't have to mention it was you, dad. Oh, she's not only mentioning me, son, she's putting my photo in the obit instead of her husband's, instead of my dad's. My photo's going to be there. Wow, dad, yikes. Well, the important thing is that your dad died in his sleep, but that's what matters. That's what really matters. Son, did I mention that I purposely left the shut-off valve open to get even with my old man for the mistreatment I dealt with growing up? All those violent outbursts of his? God, dad, I know that murder clouds the issue, but your father died as an old guy in his sleep, and that's what we have to keep emphasizing, I think. Well, I'm going to count on you to emphasize that, son.
I'm going to need you to be the one because I'm having to go now, the police are at the front door. Okay, dad, I'll tell the neighbors that it was a beautiful death, just a beautiful death. I'll try to get to him before your stepmother does. If you guys heard the work of the rapper, NAS, he has a song with the line, I never sleep because sleep is the cousin of death. That's a line in his song. I've never heard of that before. Sleep being referred to as the cousin of death. Who are deaths other relatives? Do we know? If sleep is death's cousin, who's death's dad? I know the quadruple amputee cornhole player, fatally shot a guy.
Who's death's funny uncle, do you think? A persistent vegetative state. That's death's funny uncle. Years and years ago when I was on the radio, I used to read Dear Abbey regularly. We had a Dear Abbey feature. There was a letter one time that came in a Dear Abbey where a family member was concerned because at Thanksgiving, they allowed one of the little kids to run around without clothes on. They were writing Abbey saying, you think that's wise to let a kid run around without clothes on even if it's a little baby like that? And Abbey said, you should always keep the clothes on the children at family gatherings because you never know if there's a funny uncle around. And she was inundated with letters mostly from, well, uncles, uncles who didn't like the inference. I found a dad and I said this back then on the radio that she thought that was
funny. Whatever these uncles were up to, why did she call them funny uncles? In another Dear Abbey column on another day, she said, every large family seems to have at least one funny uncle. Funny uncle was apparently a term for uncles who want to keep away from the children. How does it come up in large families when there's some concern that there might be a funny uncle around? There's something funny about Rick, not ha ha funny either. Just, just kind of funny, you know, what he's supposed to deal is with Uncle Rick. I don't know Tim. Well, look at him. Now you think there's something, I don't know, funny about him. Tell him, what are you saying? He's not right. Not 100% right, something's off. Tim, you stop that. Uncle Rick has
elephant-man syndrome. He can't help that. It's been that way from birth. I'm not talking about his elephant-man syndrome. Well, what then, Tim? When he gets to drinking, he'll just look at him. What is he doing over there? You should have the young ones keep their distance. Well, Tim, the young ones keep their distance anyway because Uncle Rick has elephant-man syndrome. Well, the kids shouldn't stay away for that reason. I mean, Uncle Rick can't help his appearance. I think Uncle Rick's appearance is bad-ass, frankly. I just think there's something a little off about him. He might be this family's funny, Uncle. Every large family has one. Brad, Sean, Brian, our personal injury attorneys. Now, the injury has to be personal.
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have been for him to run into a yell leader for the Confederates. Now there was a yell that was a bit more consequential that had a little bit more weight to it. The rebel yell was very different from your University of Oklahoma cheerleading squad yell. For some odd reason in this life, I've spent a lot of time studying the rebel yell. It's a quirky little part of the Civil War to study. I'll grant you that. But maybe that made it all the more interesting to me. I would like to have introduced Jeff, Mr. yell leader from Oklahoma to one of these yell leaders in the Confederate Army. That's your frontman right there calling for the yell, getting all the boys to go along and saying, follow me, fellas, give them that crazy call. We're charging. What do you folks know about the rebel yell? It's not the kind of thing you want to see
the kids doing at a modern sporting event. Now this yell is blood-curdling. This yell was designed to scare the enemy into running before they fired a shot. The rebel yell was all about intimidation. It was an actual weapon of war, the rebel yell. That's why it intrigued me. Now if you go to some Civil War reenactment, say you go to Gettysburg and you see these reenactors charging, delivering that rebel yell, you can get a sense of it. This is what it sounds like if you're at one of these events. Now the Confederates used the yell when charging, not just to intimidate the enemy, but also to boost their own morale. You got to work yourself up to charge an enemy knowing this might be your last day on Earth,
knowing a bayonet might move right through your gut. That rebel yell kind of worked as a drug, but it was also a god-awful thing to hear according to the Union soldiers who talked about it. Because a lot of Civil War veterans lived a good long life into their 80s and 90s, we were able in the early part of the 20th century to record some of these old guys delivering that rebel yell. So we would know just what it sounded like. Several recordings of Civil War veterans performing the yell exist. They delivered the yell both individually and as a group, and it was recorded. These guys are in their 80s and 90s. We can't give you much, but we'll give you what we got left.
There it is in gentlemen. I have the pleasure of announcing to you that we're going to make a effort to repeat the old rebel yell. One, two, three. Charge them, boys. Charge them. We'll all get into the individual there. Charge them. The sound grew into a wave, thousands of voices, shrieking, howling, a noise that made your spine crawl in your blood run cold. Entire regiments broke and fled without firing a shot. They were not running from bullets. They were running from a sound. The rebel yell. It was not a cheer. It was not a shout. It was something primal. A high-pitched wavering scream that Union soldiers described as a peculiar
corkscrew sensation that went up your spine. One Union veteran said, if you claim you heard it and weren't scared, that means you never heard it. Another said it was like the fiendish scream of enraged demons. For four years, Confederate soldiers charged into battle making this sound, and for four years, Union soldiers tried not to panic when they heard it. When we think about weapons of the civil war, we think about rifles and cannons. We think about ironclad ships and repeating rifles. We think about technology. But the most terrifying weapon the Confederacy had was not something they could hold in their hands. It was something they made with their voices. The rebel yell was psychological warfare before that term existed. It was designed to do two things, terrify the enemy and embolden the men making it. Union soldiers who faced Confederate charges wrote about the yell with a mixture of fear and awe. They described it as otherworldly, inhuman, the kind of sound that bypassed your rational mind and went straight to your fight or flight response. And when thousands of Confederate soldiers made that sound at once, as they charged across an open field with bayonets fixed, the effect was devastating.
The Confederate rebel yell did not appear out of nowhere. It had roots, deep roots in the culture of the south. Many historians believe the yell came from multiple sources that merged together. First, there was the scot-syrish influence. Many Confederate soldiers were descended from scot-syrish immigrants. These were people whose ancestors had brought with them the highland war cry. The fears shout that Scottish warriors made when charging into battle. A tradition that went back centuries. Second, there was the Native American influence. Many southerners had fought alongside or against Native American tribes. They had heard the war whoops. The sudden shocking vocalizations that warriors used to intimidate enemies. Some Texas Confederate units openly incorporated Comanche war cries into their version of the yell. The 35th battalion of Virginia cavalry was actually called Comanche's because of how they sounded in battle. Third, there was the fox hunt. This one sounds strange, but it is well documented. Southern aristocrats loved fox hunting,
and fox hunters had a distinctive call they used to signal each other and rally the hounds. A high-pitched wavering yip, many Confederate officers were fox hunters. They knew that sound, and they adapted it for battle. These three influences merged together into something new. It's fascinating to me this idea of people yelling when they're charging in battle, making some sound as they come at the enemy. I remember talking to Korean war veterans years ago on my radio show, and they talked about how the North Koreans or the Chinese would make this awful sound as they charged, and particularly how eerie it was if it was a night charge. Hearing this sound as the enemy came up the hill. That's why it's all the more fascinating to me to learn that while almost all cultures in battle used some kind of shouts or sounds or screams or calls
or battle cries, the Romans, the Roman soldiers, and this is just absolutely wild, the Roman legions maintained strict silence. It was an actual tactic of the Romans. It was a tactic designed to display utter discipline and complete psychological strength in battle, telling the enemy how dedicated they were to their jobs, how professional a way to show a kind of psychological control versus that chaotic sound of the rebel yell. There's almost something even more eerie about the Romans coming at you in battle in silence. I was reading today about how ancient the notion of some kind of music was to a battle charge.
Way back, of course, it would have been just drums. The original sound going into battle was drums, but over time that evolved. Eventually, there were horns. The ancient Chinese used horns, and of course we know about bugle calls in more modern times. But sound of some sort seemed to always be part and parcel of battle, separate from the sound of the fighting itself. I think of that Robert Deval character in Apocalypse Now playing Wagner over the speakers going into battle. When I was in summer camp as a kid, we used to wake up to a bugle call, Reveley. That how would wake us up every day? We'd be in our tents. We had this setup at camp where we had these wooden floors, but a large tent over us. And there were about seven of us to attend on
cats, and we'd wake up to the sound of Reveley, as though we were in some kind of a military camp. I didn't like that. I didn't like being awakened to the sound of Reveley. But strangely, I loved lying in bed at night and hearing taps. They would play taps at night when we were all supposed to turn off our flashlights and go to sleep. And lying in bed listening to the crickets, I used to love the sound of taps. Do you know where taps came from? Originally in the Civil War, they would use a horn to make a very different sound, to alert everyone to distinguish all flames and go to sleep. At night they had a different sound that would be played on a horn. And there was a general somewhere in the Civil War, I think his last name was Butterfield, who thought that sound didn't fit with late night,
didn't fit with the evening, didn't fit with the idea of bringing the soldiers down to a state of being ready to sleep. And so he worked on a new version, and that's how we got taps. This was the old version they used to play during the Civil War when it was time for everyone to go to sleep in an army camp. That song is called Extinguish Lights. That's what it's actually called. But imagine how much more beautiful it would be lying in the dark. Especially when you think of a kid at camp listening to the crickets hearing this.
What I had never known and what I was surprised to recently learn is that somebody wrote lyrics to that particular tune. Some time after that new tune was written and had begun to be played for soldiers, someone added lyrics. Need the sun, need the stars, need the sky, as we go, this we know God is not.
It just picture me at camp. When taps has played at night, all of a sudden hearing some old guy, just on the other side of the canvas, singing softly in my ear, those lyrics. Who's that? What are you doing? Are there supposed to be lyrics to that song? I was good with just the crickets. I've been doing ads for American pressure for quite a while and I find myself just a bit curious. You people who deal with industrial pressure washers, where else would you possibly go for your pressure washer, for repair, when you need a service vehicle to come out here, for help setting up your pressure washer system, for training your people on how to work a pressure washing system, where else would you go? And I'm serious about this. I'd like you to text me and tell me where on earth you would go. There's no one who's been around longer. American pressure has been around
as long as the pressure washer has been around. If you have a preference for family businesses, well, American pressure is a family business. You want to stay away from some big old giant national chain? I get it. American pressure is your ticket. Oh, I see, you're worried that you won't be able to reach anybody when you call. Just talk to a human being, the answer the phone there, and people call with problems all the time because in the pressure washing business, problems come up. And if in your industry you deal with pressure washers, you know that problems come up and you got to call someone, someone who's an expert. There's no one who knows more in America than the people at American pressure. Use their expertise, utilize the fact that they answer their phone and that their problem solvers. They've got all the bases covered, including over a thousand parts. That's why I'm always curious to hear who else would you people possibly go to? American pressure of Robin Stale. I want to talk to somebody. Want me somebody? Give me a body with a heart and a brain. Got to make a call.
And that is all I find. I'll make a one now. I'm going to go insane. Give me a phone. Got to be in a loan. Let's make a call. We're going to spend the big wheel or we're going to throw a big dart. Let's go a different direction entirely. Let's put all the names in a hat. Yes, that's what we'll do. We'll put all the names in a hat and I'll draw one out. Marty, shake it up. Okay, okay, bring me hat over here. All right, I'm reaching in and who do we have? Clark. Is that a real name? Clark. I don't believe I've ever met a Clark. Let's see if Clark's around. Hi, I'm Call Assist by Google, recording this call for the person you're trying to reach.
Before I try to connect you, can I ask what you're calling about? The meaning of life. Can I ask who I'm speaking to? Apple stands spill house the third. Unfortunately, the person you're calling cannot take your call right now. Have a nice day. Screw you, camper, Danny. I'm not going to be treated that way. This is Clark. I knew if I called back you to answer. What kind of a bizarre screening program do you have going on at your end? Well, you know, it says KSTP at my caller ID, so I know if I have to answer it or not. Well, how come you didn't answer the first time? The first time I was on another call already, so I couldn't hop off a work call to take this one.
I don't like the fella you have answered your phone for you. Now he's kind of a jerk. He's a complete jerk. When I get done with him, I want to hurt somebody badly. Me too. What is that about the human condition? Where when we're hurt, we want to hurt back. Well, because nobody can be happier than you are sad. So if you're miserable, you just don't want to see somebody happy. So you have to drag them down to your level. Who created us in that pathetic way? Who created these twisted machines? I don't find them remotely impressive. No, it's a twisted world we live in and unfortunately it's thousands of years of anger and repression. Everybody should learn to take a deep breath and relax and it'll be okay. I don't think that'll do it. Hitler used to take deep breaths. What did that get us?
Well, I don't know how deep above breath he was really taken. I wonder if you really could have sat him down and gotten him to take one deep breath and then find his thinking changing dramatically. Holy cow, that breath changes everything. I love Jews. Wait, Hitler's taking another breath. Hold on. I'm Jewish. Wait, what? Make them take one more breath. Kill the Gentiles. No, he should have stopped at two breaths. Damn it, the hell! Well, now had he stopped at two breaths, would he have opted to take himself out and end the situation a lot sooner? No, because the first breath left him loving Jews. The second breath he was a Jew, but then he took the third breath and now the non-Jews are going
down. That's the problem with breaths. There's a certain number. Sure, it's okay, but diminishing returns ultimately. What do you find calms you the most? For me, frankly, and I'm not proud of this, it's a drink. I mean, I don't know if that's what booze is there for, but it works. You know, they say the great writers used to spend all day writing and they'd get all worked up in their head and it'd be really a stressful experience because writing is hard, and they'd be rewriting and editing and writing again and then stock, writers' block, and eventually they'd finish their day and they just needed a drink. And the only problem was, according to the experts, this isn't me talking. They didn't know to stop. The drink was the ticket, but a couple. That's it. And they just kept going and you end up with these disasters like Fitzgerald and Hemingway.
They had the right idea. They just kept going with it like Hitler and the breaths. Let's see what happens if Hitler takes one more breath. Hang on. Eight-off one more. We'll chance it. We're spinning the roulette wheel here. I don't know what's going to happen. Go ahead and take a fourth breath. They don't pay. Look at that. Look at that. Okay, here he goes. He's not even Hitler anymore. Oh my god. He's Mahatma Gandhi. It's four breaths. Four breaths. That was the ticket, Clark. He? All it takes. Hey, Clark, where'd you get your name? My mom gave it to me, but I don't know where she came up with it. My personal theory is a Superman was a big movie when I was born, so I could be where it came from. What year were you born? 76. He was big in 76?
I think so. I'm almost positive. That was our bicentennial. You'd think she would have gone with a name of a founding father or something. Clark is a highly unusual name. What does it even mean? I don't even know. You mean you've never once. In your life, said to your mother, why did you name me, Clark? Nor have you ever once. Checked to see what Clark means. No, I was the youngest of 10 kids, so there wasn't a lot of time to ask questions. The youngest of 10. Good Lutheran family. You were not Lutheran. Yes. What Lutherans are having 10 kids? I thought they were okay with birth control. Oh, apparently the ones that were very bored. Maybe Lutherans just really like sex. Do you ever ask your mom that? Mom, did you just really like sex? That would have been a fun one at the Thanksgiving dinner table. Hey, everyone. I don't know if you've noticed how many kids my mom has got to get something out of the way here. Everybody
shut up. Mom, what was the deal with you and sex? I never asked her that, but if I asked her that, she would have answered. Really? She's no longer with us, is she? No. She's in a little oak box. She's in the box. Yeah. I always wanted to put one of my relatives in a box, but have it be the kind where you can crank the thing on the side. You know what I'm saying? After a few seconds, they pop up. The name Clark originates from Old English, meaning a scholar, a scribe, or a clergyman. It was an occupational title, Clark, an occupational title for someone who could read and write, which was a rare skill in the Middle Ages. Well, I can read and write, but I'm no scholar. You know where it comes from? The Latin word clericus, as in cleric. Clark is just another way of calling you
a cleric. You are Mahatma Gandhi, my friend. Not Hitler. Take one more breath and maybe we can get you out of this mess. The fact that she saw a little baby, a cute little baby. I mean, I assume you look like most babies when you came out. Every baby that's white looks like Winston Churchill. Are you white? I am indeed. Yeah, every baby who comes out Caucasian looks like Edward G. Robinson or Winston Churchill. Some look like Ned Beatty. That's always unfortunate, only because it doesn't bode well for how things will unfold during camping trips. I don't know why you're part of that. No, but she looked down at you when you came out of the old birth canal and she said, look at that cute little kid. What cute little name am I going to come up with? I know Clark. That's what throws me when parents go with names that make no sense for a cute little baby. I mean, for an adult later, who as a law firm, I get it, but for a little baby. Why don't they name babies when they're born
bloopie, bloopie plapa. Look at these bloopie plapa. What are you saying? I don't know. I'm making noises. There's no formed body here. Really, it's just a blob. We'll go with the calabelics there yet. And then later, they can get a name as they form more. But in the beginning, when they're these just blobs, as he just should go with names like bloopie plapa. That's my theory. I'm big on names. Names are important. When they named you, they set the course of your life. And let me tell you, Camper Danny, I don't know if anybody's ever told you this. You sound like a Clark. I guess I'm not sure what a Clark should sound like. Just like you. You have a no-nonsense quality to your voice. I am kind of no-nonsense. You are. You're one of these guys who probably seven to eight times a month says common sense in a sentence. Affair mode, yes. Yeah. See, I've got you nailed. And only because of what your mother named you. I can't know you from the short time we've been on the phone together. It's from your name. You know what, Mr. Einstein
said about common sense. He said common sense is the prejudices we acquire by the age of 18. That's pretty profound. Yeah. What he was saying, basically, is one man's common sense is not another's. We decide what a sensible thing is. But we decide based on our acquired prejudices over those 18 years. And then we try to extrapolate it to the population at large as though it should be common as though everyone should think this way. But of course, there's an arrogance to that. And there's a lot of people that are very narrow-minded in their scope. You should think their way and only their way. I liked it before. There were highways. Because before then, you never had the whole my way or the highway admonition. Nobody knew quite how to say. I want you to do it my way. They'd try to rhyme it with something and they couldn't. My way or the plough field. Damn it, that doesn't work. It's my way or the path over there.
What do you do for a living? I'm a parts manager at a car dealership. Clarke the parts manager. No nonsense. Clarke the parts manager. What do you do for fun? Let me guess! You tinker in your garage. I do that occasionally, yes. Also, you're a civil war reenactor. I am not. Good guess though. What do you do? I spent a lot of time up at our property up north and hanging out with the dogs. What are the names of your dogs? Olive and Otto, which are a pair of German sugar pointers, and then Gizmo is a shitsu. I like saying the following. Gizmo's a shitsu. I'll probably be saying that six or seven times the rest of today. Gizmo's a shitsu. That feels unbelievably good to say. Gizmo's a shitsu. I may say that at the coffee shop after work here. When I head to the coffee shop, I may say to the barista. Here's your cash and Gizmo's a shitsu. Pardon me? I said Gizmo's a shitsu.
You're going to get that through your thick scholar. You're going to get yourself another customer lady. You got that. Did you say Gizmo's a shitsu? You heard me. What do you got planned for the summer? A lot of time spent at the property. The property. I don't like that reference. It makes it sound so cold. I'm up at the property. I'm picturing a horror film. What happens at the property? It's referenced throughout the film. The film is two hours and 40 minutes long, finally at the end. It's revealed. There's Clark wearing some sort of, I don't know what that outfit is. Is that a zorkon warrior thing or what do you got on there? But you're standing in the shadows of twilight. The property is a barren wasteland. There's not a tree to be found. It's just this acreage that goes on forever. There's nothing there. It's an arid wasteland. Then you open a little hatch and disappear below ground. There is where the property really gets interesting. The mole people
are met. For the first time, we the viewers of this film meet the mole people and we find out dogs aren't your only interest. It's an exciting tale. I don't know if you've ever been excited in your life, Clark. Have you? Not too often. What do you sound like when you're excited? I'd like to figure out what could excite you. When was the last time you were really just ecstatic? Can I mean ecstatic? Full on. I can't think of the last time. That sucks. This is life. You only get the one. I just need to hear that there was a moment in your life where you felt ecstasy. We're going to have to go back a little further. How about if we move beyond the 10 year mark? Go back to your youth. Give me something brother. I just don't have anything that really made me super excited. Are you married? Nope. Well, that removes a lot of nights of ecstasy right there. Have you taken drugs in your life? Nope. I'm thinking one time and again we'll do it under supervision. We'll
find a clinic one time. We'll make it safe. But I just want you to feel ecstasy before you die. Because God knows you've felt profound sadness, right? Oh, absolutely. So look at that. You've hung out on that end of the spectrum. Meanwhile, there's this other end that hasn't even been visited. This will not stand. I will not allow this to stand. I need to find out what buttons need to be pushed. If you were putting together your dream day, I mean your dream day on earth. Say next Thursday was your last day. And because of that, the powers that be allowed you to create whatever kind of day you wanted. What would happen in that day? That's a good question. I've never thought about it. I mean, I could come up with about two dozen things right now. Can you come up with one thing? Not a real offhand. Nothing that would be a crowning jewel for my last day. How about jumping out of an airplane? Well, it would certainly be the last day. I thought it was. When I jumped out of an
airplane, I was absolutely convinced. Not 99% sure. 100% sure. I had just signed my death warrant. I was gone. And I was so at peace. I was so at peace. And it shocked me. I thought when you're about to die, you feel terror. But I felt utter calm. And I knew I was going to die because every cell in your body tells you when you leap out of an airplane that what you've just done is killed yourself. The plane flies away and you're falling through the sky. And every cell has been taught that this is what people do who want to die. And you see the ground below and you're moving toward it and you are going to die. And this extraordinary calm just comes over you. I'd even give you peace over ecstasy if it was profound peace. It have to be big time peace near death experience type peace. You don't have one of those in your life, do you? One of those moments where you were just
in a state of serenity, the likes of which you didn't think was possible. No. Well, I have appreciated visiting with you. I'm never going to, I don't think, get over the fact that we couldn't find a moment in your life of ecstasy. I feel like going back to childhood and finding Clark at 11 years old, something's going on in the neighborhood and it's filling you with a bliss you didn't know as possible. I just wish I could find out what that was. Probably something buried in there. I'm just not sure. I can't think of it. One time when I was a kid, I was probably 10 years old, bought a pack of baseball cards at Jones's Market, Randolph Avenue in St. Paul. I was on my stingray head and home, got to the intersection of prior and palace. I remember all this because this was an important day in my life and I remember every moment. I remember how the light was hitting that day. I remember the sand in the street.
I remember the way my tires sounded going over that sand in the street. And I opened that pack of cards at that intersection. I couldn't wait. I had one more block to get home, but I couldn't wait to get home. I had to open the pack and Tony O'Leave a Anne Harman killer brewer in that pack. That never happens. First of all, Minnesota kids never get twins in their baseball card packs. Kids in Florida get the twins. Kids in San Francisco get the twins. Kids in Minnesota get San Francisco cards. That's how they keep you by in the cards. They know what you're going for, what you're looking for. So they don't give them to you. Somehow this pack slipped into the delivery. And I got Tony O'Leave a Anne Harman killer brew in one pack of cards. And I looked as I put that gum from that pack in my mouth and I said out loud, this is the happiest day of my life. And I said it and it locked in my brain. So after that all moments were measured against being on my stingray on the corner of prior and palace, opening that pack.
If it could match or beat that, that was something. And of course there have been moments since that have, but I have never ever lost that feeling, that sense of that afternoon with those cards. So these are the kind of things that I would have taken from you if you had a moment from childhood like that, where there was this ecstasy. But I'm not going to force you to find it if it doesn't pop into your head. It doesn't pop into your head. I don't want to go down this road. But the day you were no longer a virgin must be up there somewhere. Yeah, that would be. Oh God, we got there. Thank God in heaven. Oh boy. Oh boy. That's all I wanted to do. I just wanted to get there. There's a day that might match my opening of that baseball card pack might. Well Clark, I've enjoyed our conversation. Thanks for answering the phone. I know some people see that number and do the opposite. They run. No, I was more than happy to take your call today.
You have a great rest of your day. And I hope to visit with you again someday down the line. You as well, sir. Bye bye. Bye. There's someone listening right now who has a grandparent dealing with Alzheimer's or dementia. Or they may have a parent dealing with it or they may have a spouse dealing with it. Sooner or later, you're going to want that person to be cared for by a professional. So you can go back to just being family, not full-time caregiver. There's going to be a relief. The day you can go back to just providing the love and attention versus all that worry and care that just drains you. You see at the well shire, they are so good at the care. They are so skilled at dealing with people at all stages of memory care that they allow families to just freely be the loving presence.
To visit joyfully, to engage with them happily, it's exhausting being a caregiver. The most well-appointed, most beautiful, most sophisticated memory care center in this region of the country is right in your backyard, the well-shire, Bloomington, and Medina. Well, hello there, Harris. Hey, hey, it's Tommy. Sorry I missed your call the other day. I was cleaning out my truck with all the winter crud. You used the winter crud to clean the truck? It's not pretty bad in there. I got to tell you. What goes on in your truck that it would have
that odor? You don't want to know. My salesman all over the Twin Cities and you don't want to know what goes on in that truck. It's that ugly? That winter crud, like I just said. I don't know what the winter crud is. Well, let's just say sometimes you got to grab a bottle, do what you got to do. Oh no, no, no, come on. I am getting a little older, Tommy. There are diapers you could buy. Good point. You mean as a salesman in the Twin Cities, you feel the need to use a bottle as a urinal? I'm channeling my inner truck driver. How many bathrooms are you passing in a given day? You know, sometimes you're on a conference call. You're not in the middle of a conference call relieving yourself. Honestly, yes. Do you have bladder issues? No, I hope I don't. I think it's
just the age rat. I have never even considered something like that. Number one, if you're driving around the Twin Cities, there's always a bathroom. That's number one. Number two, were there not a bathroom? There would be a rural setting of some kind where you could exit the vehicle. The idea that at the end of the winter, you got to do a major cleaning from the quote unquote crud. Yeah, got me there. So here's what happened. Drive in Iowa. Remember the big wind storm a few weeks ago? Okay. Got out of the car to do exactly what you just said. Open the door to kind of hide myself. Well, the wind didn't help me. It blew everything back in the car. How long did it take you to clean that thing? Long enough where I didn't answer your call. It was not good. You drive around the Twin Cities selling what exactly? Windows. Windows? Yeah, I work for one of the big major
Minnesota companies. My guess is it has a Scandinavian name. You are correct. How long you've been doing this? 25 years. 25 years as a Windows salesman. Are you burned out? I just told my boss yesterday I'm retiring in a year. What do you do with your life outside of work? Relax. You're in eight. Does your wife go in that truck? She does go in that truck. My wife is an e-arner. 25 years. She's what? An e-arner. E-arner. She's my rock. She's your rock. When you put your name on this listener call list, was there anything specifically that you thought you'd talk to me about when we visited? When you came back in a podcast form, I couldn't stop smiling, Tommy. I really couldn't. I really enjoy listening to you. It was like going into a time machine.
I get that. Even I sometimes when I'm doing the show, ask myself if it's 1997. I always say you'll always have an age in your mind that you always are. Pick that age. Unfortunately for me, it's not even an adult age. I remember Don Shelby telling me one time that 19 was the age that he believed he was. I don't know that I even am a teenager. I'm 25 and it's funny you say that because when I ask women this question, this is a good like conversational question. Women always say older, men only say a little bit younger, but for you, I think it's like 12. It's about 12 and 84. It's both of those ages. I don't have much in between, but it's a combination of 84 and 12. I can see that. Yeah. Where do you hail from originally? I'm a North New Jersey kid
that met my wife in Minnesota. I never left. What were you doing in Minnesota? Mom got divorced in the 80s and she moved as far way as possible. It was that bad? It was that bad. Then I actually went back to New Jersey and I finished high school and I lived by myself from sophomore year to senior year in a house by myself. So I have a little unique take on things, Tommy. So sophomore year, you've got your own place. You're living on your own and going to high school every day. Yeah, my stepdad lived across the street with his girlfriend. Who was your father? He left when I was two years old. And your mom found another guy and married him. My stepfather. And they're living together in New Jersey when she divorces him and heads to Minnesota. Yep. Handhandle me and send me back to New Jersey. She can't handle you as a child here in Minnesota. You're what age when she sends you back?
13. And she sends you back to live across the street from your stepfather who is now with a new woman. The neighbor. Is this the reason they divorced? Correct. So your stepfather while he's married to your mother has an affair with the neighbor. And I caught them. You caught them? How? He would say that he was going to play hockey every Thursday night. And I went and tied his skates in a certain way that if he played hockey, I would have known it. And then I looked at the skates on Friday morning and they were the way I tied there. Why were you suspicious? I just had a feeling, Tommy. I looked at that knot and I said, oh, she is cheating. I didn't believe it until I saw the knot that I tied. And then you went to your mom with the information? No, I was just heartbroken. She probably already knew. Just confirmed it.
So when she divorced him, I understand why she wanted to get as far away from New Jersey as possible. So she takes you out to Minnesota. How long did you last year before she couldn't take it anymore and sent you back? Maybe about eight months. And you go back and you're able to live in the old family house by myself. My stepdad lived across the street with his girlfriend. And I lived in the house I grew up in by myself. The only time I saw him was in the morning. He'd come over Tommy to take a crap just because he didn't want to stink up her house. Hopefully, once a year, he visited to take care of the winter crud. Still drops by daily to crap in your house just as he crapped on your life. Correct. Now, when you're living alone and heading to high school and you're a sophomore and then a junior and a senior, you must have had a hell of a lot of guys saying, can your house be the one where the party is this weekend? You're right. And it was the party
every weekend. You must have been the most popular kid in the school. I think I was the most popular burnout. So after you get out of high school, do you head to Minnesota? I do. We'll back to moms, meet a young girl from northeast Minneapolis. Tell her the day I met her, I'm going to marry her. You told her that on the day you met her? I did. Why did you say that to her? Because I knew that I was going to marry her. Where'd you meet her? Typical 80 story. Any guesses? Roller rink? Oh, you're close. The mall. Ah, you're right. So you met her at the mall. What was she doing? Do you work at a men's sportswear store? Men's clothing store. And you walked in shopping? Yep, and she measured my inseam. And I said, I'm going to marry you.
I appreciate that. Yeah, I'm glad I got a hold of you. How long you've been on the old listener list? Since the beginning. All right, I'll let you go, brother. Good talk until you. Tommy, call me anytime, okay? I will. You'll be well. Oh, my God, you did some good stuff. You did, sir. Take care. Bye-bye.
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