Author Archives: Rich Lindbloom

Lindbloom’s View: Taking Care of Business

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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

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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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Lindbloom’s View: Reflections on Game One and those pesky ‘Jackets

image001(5)Tis Battered Hands That Hoist the Cup

By Rich Lindbloom 

Are you all ready for this?

It’s been quite a while since the Hawks have faced must-win situations. Escaping the regular season relatively unscathed, the Hawks have embarked on a quest for one of sport’s greatest trophies.

The symbolism the Stanley Cup embodies is one of self-sacrifice – leaving it all on the line – there is no other way. It’s victors are toothless warriors, who limp to the finish line. Not exactly Gettysburg, but close. Read more »

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Lindbloom’s View: I’ll Take You There

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“Oh, mmm, I know a place
Ain’t nobody crying, ain’t nobody worried
Ain’t no smiling faces, mmm, no no”  -The Staples Singers

By Rich Lindbloom

Boy, oh boy. It’s been a pretty “Wild” week as far as hockey news go. We’ve discovered chronic fomenter of unrest Steve Ott has a sensitive side, Jean-Sebastien Giguere may be a Jonathan Toews in goalie equipment, and former referee Kelly Fraser finally comes clean about something I’ve long suspected-apparently, he tried to occasionally even things out after he realized he made a bad call. And believe me; I witnessed a few of Fraser’s bad decisions. Read more »

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Lindbloom’s View: Something to Harp About

somethingtoharpaboutSomething to Harp About

By Rich Lindbloom

If nothing else last week, I discovered how deep, vast and wide the State of Texas is. We visited Lake Rayburn in the east, and then the Austin and San Antonio area. Needless to say, finding the Hawks games at local watering holes proved to be a challenge. With the exception of the King’s game, we were forced to follow the action on our cell phones. Obviously, we were less than enthused with the late game meltdowns-twice against the Quackers and once against LA.

After the first loss to Anaheim, a quite distasteful 2-4 ending, I thought of a perfect way to describe the outcome. Read more »

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