David Erickson

Everyone has a story to tell, but most of those stories will never be shared. In the olden days, telling stories was how we passed on our values, our family histories, and entertained ourselves. But in this age of instant communication, there isn’t time for stories. Families are scattered, part of my generation’s obsession with the automobile. And maybe it’s just my generation, but I sweat over the big picture, and I’ve been watching national trends since JFK debated Nixon.

Along the way, I’ve learned a lot about many things. Not everything, but I can hold my own in a civil debate. I’ve also forgotten a lot more than many people will ever know. I haven’t needed to know how to repair a circuit board in decades or rewire a house.

But I’ve got a pretty good historical grip on it. I’ve paid attention. Solid Minneapolis Public Education. I like to think my views are fairly mainstream. Most came from Mom and Dad. Mom was a wealth of common sense. Dad was involved in the community, doing good works. He sometimes enlisted us. Good, Mid-western city folk. Working hard to give their kids a good life and opportunity. Lutheran. I was raised in the Catechism. A Boy Scout. At times, a fool.