Nature programs are a favorite, and it never ceases to amaze me how, after feeding at sea, a mother penguin returns to her colony with the mission of listening for “Junior” among the ear-busting din of up to a million neighbors. It seems impossible, but I think humans relate. In fact, it seems we register voices in our mind almost as well. I’m warmly reminded of the high-pitched laughter of neighbor Bill Haavisto, the velvet drawl of my bus driver, John Hill, the violin pitches of writer Nelmi Koivu, the staccato retort of coach Frank Fortune, the business-like monotone of Cook business owner, Don Simonson, the neighborly bluster of Orr’s, Everett Soger, the matter-of-fact command of neighbor, Irma Lokken, and the circus-style banter of teacher, Kathy Leding. They’ve all been gone for a decade or more, but their memories and voices live on.

A song clip from the musical group Buffalo Springfield showed up on my phone the other day. Their song “For What It’s Worth,” released in 1967, hauntingly summarized the turmoil of the time and served as something of an anthem to the baby boomer generation that was at the center of it. Protesters filled city streets. Armed forces lined up in response. Underlying the frustration was unprecedented distrust in leaders and institutions. Former syndicated radio personality Paul Harvey once noted, “In times like these, it’s important to recall that there have always been times like these.”

Yes, the times are often difficult, but the tone was different in 1967. The heated debate then centered on the Vietnam War, ending segregation, ending discrimination, seeking equal pay for women, saving whales and red wood trees from extinction, and protecting our air and water – all worthy issues. Today, political banter too often focuses on singling out people as problems or unnecessary – immigrants, the press, cancer researchers, the LBGTQ community, doctors and scientists deemed as inept by the inept, government workers. It’s poor form.

I was picking a pail of rocks at a gravel pit the other day for a garden project. The assortment of rocks one finds is impressive – large-small, flat-round, smooth-pocked, speckled-striped, and in a rainbow of colors. It seems uniformity should be the rule, so I looked it up. I learned that the moraine (gravel pit) I was in was formed by the Wisconsin Glaciation, which covered the Northland with a mile-high sheet of ice 10,000 years ago. And yes, glaciers collected, crushed, and polished rock and minerals from far regions, making for diverse deposits.

The name of the glacier got me thinking – isn’t it enough that Wisconsin inundated us with a mile of ice for thousands of years? Must we now be inundated with the ever-present Green Bay Packer jersey? We’ve been on vacation in Puerto Rico, Stockholm, and Rome only to find ourselves standing next to a Packer jersey. Don’t get me wrong, I love my Wisconsin relatives. They’re quite normal actually, but the jersey thing is a bit much for a Vikings fan. Bears fans would agree.

For What It’s Worth (partial lyrics)

There’s something happening hear

But what it is ain’t exactly clear

There’s a man with a gun over there

Telling me I’ve got to beware

I think it’s time we stop

Children, what’s that sound

Everybody look what’s going down.

Paranoia strikes deep

Into your life it will creep

It starts when you’re always afraid

Step out of line, the men come and take you away

We better stop

Hey, what’s that sound

Everybody look what’s going down.

Leo is retired and lives in rural Cook with his wife, Lindy. He is the author of three books, She Won’t Mow the Daisies, The Cabin Experience, and Life Over Easy. Leo can be contacted by email at llwilenius@gmail.com.