In days of yore, there were narrow hulled boats with double rows of oarsmen, decorated with fierce carvings of serpents on the bow. These ships found their way from the Nordic countries to Iceland, and eventually to the new world in New Foundland and some even claim to the area now known as Minnesota. Leif Ericson was a brave explorer, a great warrior, and a fierce pillager around a thousand years ago or so. His legacy lives on in the Minnesota Vikings, in Governor Jesse Ventura and in my fantasies, Good King Odin. It seems King Odin found his way one winter to the frozen bog lands lying west of the mighty lakes the natives called Gitchiegoomie. There in an area known as Puposky, or muddy waters, Odin camped among pine trees which towered above the earth. It was a severe winter, with the party surviving on fish caught in the many lakes in the area and an occasional stag speared in the deeper snow drifts. Odin yearned for those days he had spent in milder climes, and in the rampaging assaults on coastal villages at night. When he most missed his fair maiden and children back home, he would lead his party into a native village. There they would share in food and drink, and eventually end the evening with raucous dancing and chanting. Finally back in his tent, he would miss his family all the more, but sleep fitfully at least until daylight. The times were tough and dangerous, but what kept his spirit up is knowing that he soon would be back in the warm embrace of his family. What is most ironic however, is that within a few days of returning from a raid, he yearned to return to the wild side. So Odin soon returned to his castle on the fjords, but dreamt of the nights and the native villages in Puposky. At night the castle is quiet, as Odin sits in a dimly lit room scribing the events of his sojourn, which only he alone can tell. For every event may be experienced by a few, but not in total by any save you. And lonely is then my name?

Love ya' - see ya' - wouldn't want to be ya' - Franchitoe