Author Archives: Rich Lindbloom

Lindbloom’s View: It’s So Hard to Say Goodbye….

CowboysEatMaypo_Lindbloom_2013_1009“Cowboys eat Maypo.” – Marky’s dad

By Rich Lindbloom

I’m going to take a wild guess and assume most of you have never heard of Maypo. It was a maple flavored, hot oat cereal from the 1950’s.

Initially, the cereal was not making any inroads into the cereal market. However, after a heavy advertising blitz featuring Marky Maypo, the cereal saw an increase in sales of 78%!  I googled the commercial just for the heck of it the other day, still finding it highly entertaining. The fact that I can recall the famous shouts of Marky, (“I want my Maypo!”) as his dad wolfs down his cereal, is proof of its effectiveness. (or a sign of me watching way too much TV as a kid.) Read more »

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Lindbloom’s View: Wild Things

Lindbloom_2013Jun28_ThinLizzy“Cuz we was fighting”

By Rich Lindbloom

After watching an hour of the post-game show after the Hawks scintillating Game Five triumph, I was fortunate enough to hear the Thin Lizzy song, Fighting My Way Back on the way home. I had no choice but to crank it up a notch, or three. It seemed to be a good description of the battle that took place at the United Center. Battered and bruised, torn and frayed –“fighting” for the Cup – quite simply, there is no other way. Read more »

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Lindbloom’s View: The long way to Tipperary

image001(2)Kruger takes a breather

[Editor’s note: Rich submitted this piece prior to Game 5 on Saturday, but for a variety of reasons, it could not be posted until now.  So, while reading, keep in mind that it was written as a lead-in to the Hawks 3-1 win over the Bruins on Saturday night.]

“Paddy wrote a letter to his Irish Molly O saying,

“Should you not receive it,”
Write and let me know!

It’s a long way to Tipperary,
It’s a long way to go,
It’s a long way to Tipperary,
To the sweetest girl I know.” – Jack Judge

By Rich Lindbloom

It’s also a long, long way to Michigan City – more on that later – suffice it to say it could be the difference between hoisting the Cup or swinging golf club.

Really, nothing more needs to be said about Game Four than Forklift’s concise description “Six biscuits in the basket.” I believe the over/under bet was shattered on Wednesday by the combined efforts of Bruins, the Hawks and of course, the curiouser and curiouser calls of the referee’s who I’m pretty sure would feel quite at home in Wonderland. While on the topic of betting, in a way I was hoping the Hawks lost last night. Then, the following story would have had an even greater salubrious effect on what might have appeared to be a hopeless situation had we gone down 1-3 to the bombastic B’s. It’s the true tale of a former boss, Bill, and a bloke named Tom from Tipperary. It involves never giving up no matter how insurmountable the odds, making crazy wagers while dangling the dinghy and consuming to much aqua vitae. In Wild (snap hook) Bill’s words: Read more »

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Lindbloom’s View: Taking Care of Business

lindbloom_20130605_TakingCareofBusiness

By Rich Lindbloom

Back in the early 70’s, I used to work on my tan in the backyard. I’ve always found it very hard to just lay there and bake – I remember a friend once saying he could lay out for about five minutes and then it’s “OK, what’s next!” To while away the time while working on transforming myself into a bronze Adonis, I’d often read. A favorite pastime was setting up a chessboard and studying chess openings from the over 1,000 page book of The Theory of Chess Openings.

As I headed out to the back yard one day after greasing up with the Coppertone, I saw a book on hockey that my sisters had just finished reading. Bored (actually confused) with trying to figure out what a Grandmaster was saying about the Caro-Khan Opening, I grabbed the book and headed for the lounge chair. Read more »

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Lindbloom’s View: Got My Mojo Workin’

DirtyWater_LindbloomsView

“I wanna tell you a story
I wanna tell you about my town
I’m gonna tell you a big bad story, baby
Aww, it’s all about my town…”

By Rich Lindbloom

Ah June in the 60’s – a time of warm weather, summer vacation, ice cream trucks, twi-light games of ghost in the graveyard, transistor radios, Dick Biondi and Dick Clark – Top 40 and graduation parties at the Surf Club. In 1966, the Standells recorded the song Dirty Water that prompted my dad to ask if there was something wrong with the volume control on my stereo. For those of you not familiar with the object above, it was known as a 45. This particular one peaked at #8 on the charts and brings back memories of a time when music was music. How it never reached #1 is a mystery to me – it probably had something to do with four lads from Liverpool. There was just something so right about singing, “Oh, Boston you’re my home.” Read more »

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Lindbloom’s View: Benchmarks

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“The significance of a man is not what he attains but rather what he longs to attain.” – Kahlil Gibran

By Rich Lindbloom

When my son Greg was about 12 years old I took him to the health club with me on occasion. While possessing massive thumbs developed from hours upon hours of Play Station activity, he was neglecting other muscle groups. (Honestly, where would man be today without the opposable thumb?) I introduced Greg to the bench press, starting out with either 5lbs or 7.5lbs on each side. It wasn’t too long before he was pumping out ten reps – clearly on his way to becoming the next Charles Atlas. Read more »

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Lindbloom’s View: Sic ‘Em Bicks

putbullattack“Sic em Bicks!”

Ain’t but three things in this life worth a solitary dime, Old dogs, children and watermelon wine.  –  Tom T. Hall

By Rich Lindbloom

Our family has fostered quite a few four legged beasts for South Suburban Humane Society. It’s messy, time consuming and as my daughter would put it, “This house smells like a kennel.” And then she’d pick up one of the critters and talk to it as if the puppy could understand her. “Come here my little Do-Do head or Taco bird, you’re just a little fatso,” and many other endearing terms that emanate somewhere from the soft spots of her heart. I’m fairly certain the puppy has no idea what she’s saying, but the tail wagging like a wind shield wiper in a downpour would seem to indicate the beasts seem to know they’re loved. (Can you imagine a dog without a tail? So much is communicated with so few words.) Read more »

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Lindbloom’s View: Don’t Open Door Number Two

funeralSongs_LonesomeRoadThat Old Lonesome Road

“Suns up, uuh huh, looks okay
The world survives into another day
And I’m wondering where the lions are
Oh I’m wondering where the lions are…” – Bruce Cockburn

By Rich Lindbloom

Wings 2 Hawks 0 – that one really hurt.

An intense feeling of ennui is the only way to describe how I felt at 10pm last night. Close but no cigar – what the little boy shot at – goose egg – Sarah’s barren womb – hopelessness – a loss for words (ha, never!) – finger pointing and the blame game. Indeed, Kate Smith finally appears to be dragging the moon over the mountain. Clearly the fat lady is clearing her vocal cords. Although we may not know where the lions are, the Wings are clearly in the driver’s seat. If I was lying on a shrinks couch and he asked me, “Well, how did Game Four make you feel,” I’m not sure I would have an adequate answer. And then I would chop him to little pieces with a dull axe shouting at him with every blow, “How does that make you feel.” Read more »

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Lindbloom’s View: Trader Joes black bean salsa and bad calls

Ref_wife_screwing

I’m mad…and that’s a fact
I found out…animals don’t help
Animals think…they’re pretty smart
Shit on the ground…see in the dark

They wander around like a crazy dog
Make a mistake in the parking lot
Always bumping into things
Always let you down down down down” – David Byrne

By Rich Lindbloom

First off, I want to unequivocally state that I don’t think Brad Watson makes “mistakes in the parking lot.” (On the ice, of course, is an entirely different matter.) David Byrne of the Talking Head’s wrote a peculiar song called Animals awhile back. Brad Watson’s shady interference call on Andrew Shaw, brought back memories of the song. The lyrics are pretty humorous, and if you’re an animal lover you can relate to a lot of what he points out. Read more »

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Lindbloom’s View: Flowers in the Dirt

image003“Those who plant a garden have faith that God will make it grow”

“In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.” – Margaret Atwood

By Rich Lindbloom

And just like that, it’s over. Blink your eyes, and the moment is gone, sequestered away in a cobweb of tangled neurons. It was subtle, beautiful and irrepressible. There is so much going on in such a short window of time. As Edna St. Vincent Millay noted; “April, comes like an idiot, babbling, and strewing flowers.” Indeed, it’s hard to keep up with it all. Read more »

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