The Morrison Family

So I was just over at Office Depot buying some quality ink pens, as I’ve determined that it’s time for me to take up art again and I ran across this little gem at the counter.

The picture isn’t all that great, but it’s a”Hope” flavored “Aroma Pen”, and it’s the last one left in the display.

Now, I may be a cynic that thinks people are buying too much crap for, well $5.49 a pop, but the inquisitive side of me wonders:

1. Who exactly is in the market for a scented ballpoint pen?
2. Whose job is it to determine what “hope” smells like.
3. What the heck were the other flavors on the tray that “hope” is the last one remaining, in some sort of modern allegory of Pandora’s box?

Saturday I finally caught up with Bob Rivers, who I had been meaning to get together with for the past few months. I guess each of us having adding a new baby to our families was a good enough excuse to delay things a few months.

I popped over and met Luke Rivers, who looks remarkably like his older brother Jaden. He woke up when I was there (not my fault!) and said hello!

Bob and I then headed off to Bills gun range for a little target shooting. Jason Jurisch met us there and we shared a lane for a few hours hurling lead downrange in a relatively accurate fashion. It turns out that Bob’s a natural with a pistol, as his first few shot groupings were amazingly well placed. He learned the stance, grip and aiming quite quickly and held his own when we switched things up with a little double tap, fast target aquisition, and long range target drills. He only later started to pick up the bad habit of anticipating the “bang” that afflicts my aim.

We finished up the day with a target I’ve always wanted to put up on the range, the Bin Laden Target. Perhaps it was the motivation to tag America’s #1 enemy (aside from fiscal irresponsibility!) but I finally dialed in my shot grouping as evident by the relatively large holes over old BL’s heart. Bob has a thing against his facial hair (probably because he can’t grow any. *Zing!*) and managed to take out his shooting arm, all the better to capture him alive.

Fun was had by all and it was great to finally spend some more time with Jason and Bobbo, hopefully it’ll be less time between our next get together! After all, we can’t add another kid to the family for at least 9 more months..

Thursday, I was offered the chance to go to the Minneapolis Club’s hosting of U.S.Bank’s “Hunters Lunch”. I had never heard of it before, but it’s been an annual tradition for 39 years, where leaders in the bank come together, have a delicious lunch focused around several game dishes and networking (in a non-computer sense.)

I’ve always wondered what it took to get into the “old boys club” looking ivy covered building in downtown known as the Minneapolis Club. I walk by it every day on my way to my bus stop and I wonder who exactly has a membership to this place? Heck, any club that can take up a mansion in downtown Minneapolis with an attached private parking garage and look like they belong on the greek quarter of a (literal) Ivy league Campus has to be a big deal.

The inside of the building didn’t disappoint, with lots of dark wood, leather upholstery and a look that intones with an English accent “Cigars and brandy in the sitting room.” The lunch itself was very tasty, with the wild game consisting of wild duck with a mandarin orange reduction and roasted lamb, accompanied by mashed roasted shallot potatoes, baked spaghetti squash and soups/salads.

Ok, correct me if I’m wrong, but at what point in time did lamb become game? One can almost imagine the look of a hunter patiently stalking a herd of sheep and unloading his shotgun at an unsuspecting lamb 3 feet away from him. Unless there’s some herd of wild feral sheep mucking about in the Midwest, I’m guessing that moniker is a tad deceptive. Aside from semantics, the meal was quite satisfying, rubbing elbows with CEO’s and bigwigs was less interesting than many may think, but the immediate members of my table were a delight to talk to. Lunch ended up with a tartlet display of mini apple and pumpkin pies, fresh cinnamon whip cream and a fruit crisp. I’ll give it to the Minneapolis Club, they do put out a delicious spread.

As for membership to the club, since it’s invite only and I don’t have a last name that starts with “Von” or ends with “Jr.”, “Sr.” or a number, I’ll have to be content with being a member of the Morrison Club. We’re pretty exclusive (we’ve only added a single member this year) but the day-to-day benefits are much more rewarding.