The Arrogance of Infinity: Recent Episodes
Michael Pickett
Tales of transition from the Industrial to Technology Age. This anthology of reflections takes brief looks at a life that happened to ride the last wave of the Industrial Age as it crashed into the Age of Technology. Inspirations range from Dr. Seuss to Dorothy Parker, with Mark Twain, Frederick Douglass, and Epictetus somewhere in between.
A trip to Madison, Wisconsin from St. Paul, Minnesota leads me to an unlikely stop at the Missouri Tavern at Kickaboo Road and a quiet stretch of Highway 12. For two and a half hours I had an exclusive audience with bar owner, Mae Mefford, a 97 year-old woman who had been running the joint since 1940.
A move to Ohio in 1969 brought our family into close contact with key historical moments that defined an age-to-age clash of raw power and agile speed. The Industrial to Technology transition had begun in earnest.
This is a tale of tragedy, but not a sob-story. It’s a remarkable coincidence, and an inspirational reminder to me of the thin threads that bind, and the cycles of human experience that can make one feel never alone.
A flight from Chicago O’Hare to Minneapolis/St. Paul takes less than an hour. There have been more than a million flights between the cities in my lifetime and I’ve done it at least a hundred times. One in the hundred, one in a million, was with my sister, and it changed the way I look at life.
As Amelia Earhart once said, “There’s more to life than being a passenger.”
This short piece is an addendum to another Tale: Expeditions. It features my favorite story about our Grandfather, Rex Pickett, and was delivered as the "Faith Minute" at the Nativity Men’s Club meeting on Veteran’s Day, November 11, 2021.
Our daughter happened to be at a crowded bar where another young woman died in a gun fight.
This one is a special edition episode. It features a story written by a man who was my mentor and greatest ongoing influence as a writer. Peter Stathopoulos dedicated the story to me three days before he died on April 10, 2021; Pete was set free from ALS – Lou Gehrig’s disease. The dedication is one of the finest gifts I’ve ever received.
Quarantine led my brother to rediscover a book from the family library. The content, and a note inside the front cover, was priceless.
This current-day entry is more Yarn than Tale. It's about Queens, and commoners, and television shows. In the reading, it also features some pretty bad accents. My apologies to our Allies.
From the "Erector Set in a cornfield," Metropolitan Stadium, to Gramps playing ball with Dizzy Dean, this is my life in baseball experiences from 1961, the year the Minnesota Twins and I were born in Bloomington, through youth, college, and into adulthood. The tale includes trips to ballyards in outstate Minnesota, and around the country. I mix in flashbacks and societal reflections with thankful memories from America's pastime.
In the age of COVID 19, we have an opportunity to look at our world in a whole new light.
Real time reflection of the violence in Minneapolis and St. Paul after the tragic death of George Floyd.
Ecclesiastes 9:11 reminds us that “…the race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong…” Maybe not, but according to Damon Runyon, “that’s the way to bet”.
The story of a dramatic race at Canterbury Park thoroughbred track in Shakopee, MN.
Two dear friends, Tim and Kim O'Brien, died tragically in a snowmobile accident on December 29, 2018. This tale reflects on who we who remain must remain thankful despite abrupt loss that is seemingly senseless.
I first wrote this Tale as the intro, but couldn’t resist expanding it into a relative history lesson. It’s about the strength and frailty, and fluidity of family.
A forward, along with the eulogy of my father, Rex Pickett Jr., a man who epitomized the while male of the Industrial Age, and was also a manifestation of how people can, and must, adapt to the changes within a society evolving from one Age to another.
My wife's cousin, Thomas Burnett Jr., is one of the key combatants on Flight 93 on September 11, 2001. The story builds upon famous people from Iowa, along with Tom's father and his four brothers to create context around desired and accidental fame. Brief bios of Tom's uncles and father - who were not famous, but were fascinating and influencial people.
A trip to Madison, Wisconsin from St. Paul, Minnesota leads me to an unlikely stop at the Missouri Tavern at Kickaboo Road and a quiet stretch of Highway 12. For two and a half hours I had an exclusive audience with bar owner, Mae Mefford, a 97 year-old woman who had been running the joint since 1940.
The most heroic moment of my life came at Gettysburg. Gettysburg Place, that is – in a 55 Plus housing development in Jefferson City, MO where all the streets are named for Civil War battles.
One championship does not a dynasty make. The Little Wagon Restaurant’s fabled status was achieved by winning the broomball championship of the Minneapolis Senior Men’s Outdoor Recreational League, South Division, every year from 1982 through ‘99.
Mary Beth snatched personal property of the Clintons from the East Wing of the White House in July of 1994. She took it from right under the noses of staffers, then snuck it past heavily armed secret service agents without dropping a bead of sweat.
I had a dilemma of which event to attend on the weekend on June17, 1994: Italy vs. Ireland World Cup match in NYC, Arnold Palmer's last round in a major tournament at his home course of Oakmont CC, a free trip to Alaska with backstage passes to a music festival including Don McLean, or stick around Minnesota for an annual fishing tournament of which I was the organizer. Decisions, decisions...
The Palmer House Hotel in Chicago stands in stark contrast to the craft brew pubs that are so common today.
I owe basketball coach Lute Olson after a bet made at Don & Charlie's Restaurant in Scottsdale, Arizona.
The Cuban Missile Crisis of 1962, the 1991 World Series, and the Minneapolis Riots of 2020 are spaced 29 years apart. They're all specs on Nature's timeline.
Alex Trebek gave a toast to me and Mary Beth on the first of our two honeymoons. We were flying First Class to Montreal courtesy of her employer, Northwest Airlines...
A poem by my father inspires a short reflection of my favorite place on earth that I consider the sanctuary to my soul.
I dabbled in the Education business back in the ‘80s working a 3/4 time paraprofessional job at St. Paul’s Highland Park High School. The experience ended my pursuit of a teaching career.
A short story inspired by an elegant, 80 year-old woman who was a regular at the beer and burger joint where I bartended in the 1980s. One night, she brought in an ugly little locket.
Time – it’s one of the great forces of the universe; but it doesn’t really exist, it just happens. It’s endless, and fleeting.
This tale is from the collegiate years, 1980 specifically. It’s a tale of sacrifice, and adventure, and conquest, and the most versatile smile in the world.
The lives of an ordinary midwestern American couple are extraordinary, but to them, it's simply the natural pursuit of living with purpose. This tale touches on their humble and diligent contributions through the eyes of a friend to one of their children.
This tale started to evolve in my head almost immediately after a friend mentioned washing dishes together as teenagers. It’s about destiny, duty, and restaurant dish rooms.
We’re all human. Some wear a cross, a star of David, or one with a crescent. Some praise Brahma or Buddha. Some deny the spirits altogether, but each has a faith of some degree or decree. Even atheists have faith in bridges.
From tribes of indigenous hunters and gatherers - to oil-burning industrialists, the history of Hancock County, Illinois is unique, but interchangeable with 3,000 counties throughout the United States.
January 10th, 2021 marks 45 years since mom left us. This re-written-and-recorded tale captures some of her tough and tender personality traits - amid historic events, and the personal challenges of her last five years. Her strength enabled me to keep right on playing. Originally published in April of 2020, here’s a renewed version of Part VIII - Ice and Fire.
This tale is another that touches on my childhood in the late 1960s and early 70s – the most formative years for me. It involves my first love, long before I knew the who, what, when, where, and hows of love.
My grandfather, Rex Levering Pickett Sr., was a blind World War I vet who would guide us on a day-long adventure that began in south Minneapolis, and included a bus trip with connections in downtown Minneapolis before landing across the river in St. Paul at the State Highway Building where he worked as the guy who managed donut vending machines on each of eight floors.
This tale reflects on childhood memories and the social climates of the years 1968, and 1918 the year Gramps' experience in World War I left him blind, yet undaunted.
This Tale evolved in my head on a day when I happened upon three images: the old train depot in Minneapolis, a Lawrence Welk logo, and the stock yards of South St. Paul. Individually, and together, they reminded me of my years between the ages of five and 15, when time was measured by how long it would be til the next trip to mom’s family farm.
The Arrogance of Infinity is a collection of real-life tales about the transition from the Industrial to Technology Age.