A quest for air

I’m not afraid to admit, heat has never been my thing.

Perhaps it’s the fact I grew up on a lake and could go jump in the water whenever summer temperature’s started to scorch. Or it could be the fact I’ve been spoiled by living in a home with air conditioning for several years now. Either way, I have to say I’m a bit of a pansy when it comes to warm temperatures.

I’m one of those people most Minnesotans probably hate, because I’d much rather be cold than too hot. (Seriously, as inconvenient as it may be, you can always layer up to the point you’re warm no matter the temp. Trying to make that work the other way will probably get you arrested.)

As someone who begins to sweat at about 75 degrees, I nearly panicked last Sunday when I returned home from a friend’s wedding to hear my window air conditioning unit making a terrible sound. It was still blowing cold air and the house was still comfortable, but the unit itself was making a loud banging sound and little droplets of water were flying out onto my couch.

Obviously I turned the unit off right away. Luckily, temperatures stayed low enough early this past week that I didn’t really need A/C anyway. But, looking at the extended forecast and seeing temperatures in the mid-to-upper 80s and even low 90s had me dreading what inside of the house might feel like with no A/C. The place is pretty well protected from the wind and seems to hold heat pretty well (fingers crossed that holds true in January), so it’s normally about 5-6 degrees warmer inside than it is out.

Upon both myself and my dad doing some looking around online, it seemed fairly obvious there was water inside the unit. Apparently the particular model I have doesn’t have a drain hole (there’s probably a technical term for that, but I don’t know it) so there’s nowhere for any potential rainwater or condensation to escape.

On a whim Thursday morning I decided to turn the unit on to see what happened. Much to my relief, it sounded fine. I thought my worries of melting in the coming days had ended.

Not so much.

After running the A/C most of the day Thursday (it got warm in the house), I woke up at about 2 a.m. to hear that same awful noise. I turned it off and figured I would deal with it in the morning. Friday morning, the noise and the spraying continued, so I watched a video on YouTube posted by a guy in Florida who had the same issue. He was able to fix it by simply rolling up a paper towel length-wise and sticking it inside the unit, causing the towel to soak up the pooled water.

I thought it seemed worth a shot and, although the towel did suck up some of the water, eventually it must not have been able to reach what was left and the fan kept splashing when I turned it on.

Now, from the beginning, the obvious solution seemed to be to drill a hole in the bottom of the A/C unit. I didn’t do that for a couple reasons. The first was that I don’t have a cordless drill and hate asking people to borrow things. The second is that I didn’t even know if I could get a hole drilled into the bottom without removing the entire unit.

Finally, it got warm enough in the house Saturday afternoon that I got desperate. I thought even a tiny hole would be better than nothing. So, I went into my junk drawer, found the widest nail I could find and my hammer and decided I’d put a hole in there the old-fashioned way. Honestly, I didn’t really think it would work, but I knew as long as I didn’t hammer the nail in too far it shouldn’t do any damage.

Somehow, it worked! A little hole, the size of a small boxing nail, punched in the back of the unit near the bottom provided just enough room for the excess water to escape.

So far I’ve been lucky and, as of Sunday afternoon, the A/C was still working. With a heat advisory in effect until 9 p.m. tonight, I just hope it stays that way.

Homer takes a vacation

I have yet to take any vacation days this summer, but Homer is on one right now. And it’s weird.

My parents live on St. Olaf Lake, just outside of New Richland. Pretty much since I moved back to Minnesota, my parents have been asking (see: begging) if Homer, their “granddog”, could come spend a week at the lake at some point this summer. If there was one, I figured this week would be the perfect time to do so.

I had gone back over the weekend to spend the Fourth of July on the lake and plan to head back this Saturday for a friend’s wedding. Neither of my parents are working this week either, so it seemed the stars had aligned for Homer to get a week off from the rigors of life in Worthington (playing with his empty ice cream pale in the backyard, sleeping on the couch underneath the window air condition, etc.) and spend some time at the lake.

The couple other times I’ve left him somewhere for a week, it was because I was taking some sort of trip myself, so admittedly, just being at home without him seems really weird.

It’s strange how much of my daily routine really does depend on having Homer around.

On a normal day, Homer wakes me up sometime between 8:30 and 9 a.m. (Remember, us sports guys live a quasi-vampiric life in terms of working hours, so that isn’t as late as it might sound.) I let him out right away, start my coffee and go grab the Daily Globe from the front porch. He comes in, sits on my lap and gets some pats while I drink a cup of coffee and read the paper. By then, he’s usually ready to go back outside.

This game of in and out goes on for a couple hours. He begs to go outside, I oblige, he wants back in five minutes later, grabs a toy and gets bored with it after 10 minutes or so before making a return trip to the back door in hopes of being let out. After lunch, we usually go for a walk. When we get back from there, it’s nap time for him while I get ready for work.

Usually breaks in the workday take on a somewhat similar routine.

The last couple mornings, I’ve woke up to see it’s later than I’m used to sleeping (Tuesday I didn’t get up until 11!) When I sit down to drink my coffee and read the paper, I feel like I’m forgetting something. Sunday night, I got home from work, sat down and watched a couple episodes of “Friday Night Lights” (which I’m currently addicted to) on Netflix and had a brief moment of panic thinking, “How long has it been since I let Homer out!”

About the time not having him around starts to feel normal, that’s when I’ll be bringing him back on Sunday. Either way, I can’t wait for him to come home. Life just seems a little dull without him. But, multiple photos a day of him lounging on the pontoon let me know he’s enjoying his vacation.

Wild draw a crowd

I pulled up to Worthington Arena at about 11:45 a.m. Thursday, fashionably late, of course. (That’s what I’m telling people, anyway. Obviously it couldn’t be because I had a hard time getting myself going. Couldn’t be.)
Anyway, as soon as I pulled up, I could tell there was a solid crowd on hand for the Minnesota Wild Summer Road Tour. Wild winger Matt Cooke, former team captain and current member of the FSN broadcast team Wes Walz, and TV analyst Mike Greenlay were in Worthington for an hour Thursday as part of the three-day tour around the state. Worthington and the surrounding area showed up to prove that the borders of the “State of Hockey” extend far beyond the Twin Cities metro and upper reaches of the state like Warroad and Eveleth.
The Wild representatives were set up at a table inside of the arena that would have been somewhat near center ice if the arena was frozen. Even halfway through the hour-long event, the line stretched to the south entrance of the building and, at one point, it looked as though there may be a few people standing outside. I’d guess that by the time I showed up, the line had probably dwindled down a little from what it was when the players arrived at 11:30. Although I don’t know what the turnout has been (Walz estimated they’ve had anywhere from 200-600 attendants throughout their stops), I’m guessing the show of people in Worthington was as good as anywhere else.
During these stops, fans have an opportunity to get autographs, have photos taken and, of course, have a chat (brief as it may be) with one of their Wild heroes. It’s much like the Twins Caravan that goes through the state every winter, just to give a frame of reference. Anyway, I think what these two teams (the Wild and the Twins) do for their fans is pretty special. After the autograph session, I had a chance for quick interviews with Walz and Cooke. Prior to joining the Wild, Cooke played for the Vancouver Canucks, Washington Capitals and Pittsburgh Penguins. He told me Minnesota is the first place he’s played that had such a thing. When I lived in Kansas, the Kansas City Royals did make a few trips to outstate Kansas and Missouri, but it didn’t seem to me like it was nearly as big as what the Wild and Twins do.
I was glad to see so many fans of all ages taking advantage of the opportunity. Getting to meet professional athletes isn’t an everyday occurrence and, although they’re really just normal people like you or I, even 28-year-old sports reporters can’t help but get a bit starstruck. I also couldn’t help but overhear the number of people thanking the players for coming to town (Minnesota Nice is a real thing, you guys). It was nice to see. Knowing what a busy schedule most of those guys have to live by, I always think taking time out for fans — without whom they wouldn’t be able to play hockey for a living — should be appreciated.
Hopefully the excellent show of support in Worthington will compel the Wild (and maybe the Twins?) to come back soon.

So much to see

Perhaps the social media hiatus I’m currently taking (which I described at length in my last blog) has given my mind a little bit too much free time to roam.
Lately I’ve been stricken with a pretty severe case of wanderlust. It’s even gotten to the point where I’ve just pulled up my Google Maps app and punched in random destinations that I’d like to one day visit, as if I’m just going to take off and go on a whim. (Trust me, this will probably never happen. Even if I had the means and time to do so, spontaneity has never been one of my defining qualities.)
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not trying to say that I’m dying to get out of Worthington or anything like that. Things are going great so far, and I don’t see myself making any permanent changes any time soon. It’s honestly just a case of being “bitten by the travel bug.”
I’ve always enjoyed traveling. One of the top items on my “bucket list” is to visit all 50 states. Right now I’m sitting at 21, which could be worse. After all, I’m only 28 years old so, if all goes as planned, I have plenty of time to get out and see the other 29. Still, every so often I get the itch to get out and see someplace new.
I’d be foolish, however, to not recognize the fact that this current case coincides with my moving back to Minnesota. Until the middle of April, I lived in Emporia, Kansas, roughly 475 miles from my hometown of New Richland. Prior to moving to Kansas in March 2012, I’d only been there twice; and those two times were when I went to interview and when I went searching for a place to live. As such, practically everywhere I went was a new experience for the first year or so that I lived there. While I admit not being as familiar with southwest Minnesota as I am other parts of the state, it’s not quite the task of exploration when I get out and about.
During my time in Kansas, I tried to make it home every three months or so. I think the fact that I was living somewhere that was pretty much foreign to me and that I went for a 950-mile round-trip drive every few months satiated my hunger for travel. It’s been nearly two months since I made that trip, and my brain is telling me that now’s the time to start getting hungry.
I’ve been looking more and more into places nearby and don’t require a long weekend. I’ve already found a few places I’m planning to go spend an afternoon as soon as I have a chance. Christopher Columbus or Ferdinand Magellan I am not, but I am ready to get out and explore.

Establishing a silent summer

Monday, I officially started out on what I plan to be a summer-long journey of sorts.

Inspired by a Facebook post by actor/really smart dude Patton Oswalt, I have decided to go “radio silent” with social media for the entire summer. (Yes, I see the irony in the fact a Facebook post is what made me decide to do this.) Until after Labor Day, I’m taking a break from Twitter and Facebook, which I’ve known for a long time I waste entirely too much of my free time on.

(A quick side note: I’m making an exception for the Daily Globe accounts as I feel social media is an important part of reporting in the information age.)

Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against Facebook or Twitter. (Although, constant bickering over things like politics and religion — to name a couple — on my “newsfeed” have made me grow less and less enchanted by Facebook lately.) Instead, my decision to do something like this, which I believe is actually a pretty big undertaking, is more of an indictment on myself than anything else.

In Oswalt’s brilliant post, he outlines the reasons he is going “radio silent” for the summer. Needless to say, it really struck a chord with me. I’ll try to just quote him on a couple of the highlights that made me want to follow his lead, though if you really want the full impact, I urge you to visit his Facebook page. If nothing else, it’s a thought-provoking read.

One thing he said that particularly got me was this: “I’ve aggressively re-wired my own brain to live and die in a 140 character jungle.”

As I went through my first day without using social media, this one really sunk in. I felt out of the loop all day. What in the world could all of my friends be doing? What major, breaking news events could I be missing out on? What snarky comments am I denying myself from making?

I suspect many people are like me. Twitter is where I first hear about a lot of major events. Instantly, I have to throw my hat into the ring with a comment and/or opinion about it. It may be kind of sick, but almost any time I watch the news or Sportscenter, one of the first thoughts that comes to mind is, “What can I tweet about this?” When I stepped back and thought about it after reading Oswalt’s post, I thought, “What do my opinions or sarcastic thoughts add to the conversation?” Usually nothing. To think otherwise would be a bit egotistical, not to mention wrong. That’s not to say mine or anyone else’s opinion isn’t valid, but wouldn’t I be better served by waiting and having an actual conversation about it rather than spewing my first thought onto the interwebs?

Once I came to that realization, I couldn’t help but wonder, what’s the point in spending so much time on social media? Am I really gaining anything by it? Again, usually not.

That’s where another part of Oswalt’s post comes into play, the one that really compelled me to take a step back.

He wrote: “I want to de-atrophy the muscles I once had. The ones I used to charge through books, sprint through films, amble pleasantly through a new music album or a human conversation. I’ve lost them — willingly, mind you. My fault. Got addicted to the empty endorphins of being online.
So I need to dry out, and remind myself of the deeper tides I used to be able to swim in — in pages, and celluloid, and sounds, and people.”

I decided that I felt like these things had taken a huge step back in my life as well. It may sound like a waste of time to some, but things like reading a book or even just watching an old movie I’ve always wanted to see comes with a certain amount of gratification. It also can spark some good conversation, much better than that of re-hashing a run-of-the-mill Twitter or Facebook post.

In the end, my goal in this is to stop wasting so much time on social media and fill up those spaces with more fulfilling tasks. To borrow one of Oswalt’s thoughts, I want to see the world in more than just 140 characters again.

Quit playing games with my heart

I’m Zach, and I’m a Minnesota Twins fan.

During the past couple years, a phrase like that might garner some fairly justified heckling. Not that the Twins are a bad franchise or one someone should be ashamed of liking (I mean, we’re not talking about the Yankees here), but the truth is, they just haven’t been very good. (OK, lets be honest. They’ve stunk.)

During the 2000s, when the Twins were regularly competitive and won six division titles, I had high expectations for them coming into each season. If they would have been 22-21 entering play on May 21 during one of those seasons, I probably would have been writing a blog or column asking what is wrong with them. But things have changed and three years of hanging around the cellar has brought my cynicism out. As such, I can’t help but thinking this is just too good to be true.

Admittedly, as I type this right now, I still don’t have very high expectations for the Twins this season. That doesn’t mean I don’t like them or won’t cheer for them with all I have for the remainder of the season, but I just don’t want to get my hopes up only to be let down. (As a Minnesota sports fan you’d think I would have grown used to that by now. I have not.) Still, I almost like the position I’m in as a fan right now less than when the team was just undeniably bad.

Like I said, cynicism has set in.

It’s that cynic in me that is expecting the Twins to do nothing less than toy with my emotions at some point this summer. If they are able to stay within a stone’s throw of the division and/or wild card race for much longer, (and the way things look right now, .500 seems to be the pace that is being set) I fear the hopeless romantic side of my fandom will come out and I’ll begin to have dangerous thoughts like, “Could they really do this?”

The second I begin to have thoughts like that is when they’ll tank. A pitching staff that has been strong for the past few weeks will start getting lit up like Christmas trees and hitters like Brian Dozier and Kurt Suzuki will start to come back to Earth after what have been surprisingly excellent starts to the season. In a nutshell, the team will start looking like I expected it to this year and I’ll be left feeling like I have a face covered in egg.

As I said, I hope I’m wrong. I hope the Twins continue to play well throughout the season and at least provide some baseball that’s worth watching in September. But, if that’s not going to happen, I just hope the fall comes sooner rather than later. After all, I’ve got my sanity at stake here.

Trying to break the language barrier

If you read my last blog post, which I’m sure you all did, you know that I have a dog named Homer.
I got him from the Blue Earth County Humane Society in October 2008 and, in living together for the last five-and-a-half years, we’ve come to understand each other pretty well. Essentially, what he wants, he gets. There’s no denying who the true “master” is in our relationship. (Hint: Not me.)
I like it perfectly fine that way. Spoiling him is one of my favorite things to do and, most of the time, he’s pretty clear about what he wants. If he goes to the back door and whines; he wants out. If he brings me a toy; he wants to play.
Sometimes, however, we have a bit of a language barrier that can be difficult to work through.
Every once in a while, he’ll just look at me when I’m sitting in my chair and whine or let out a half bark.
My first reaction is that he wants to play, so I comply by getting up and finding one of his many toys (of which probably his favorite is nothing more than an empty Diet Coke bottle) and offering to tug on it with him. If that doesn’t work or he quickly loses interest, I check the food and water dishes; which almost never go empty. Next, I open the back door and offer to let him outside.
This is when things can get tricky. There are times when, after all of my attempts to give him what he wants, he just looks at me as if he’s thinking, “No, you stupid human. That’s not what I want.”
This probably bothers me a lot more than it should and I know I’m not the first person who sometimes wishes they could communicate with animals. But the truth is, I feel truly guilty when I can’t figure out what the problem is. Sometimes this game goes on for a while before he either lies down and stares at me dejectedly before finally going to sleep. Other times, I think he “gets” that I’m trying and humors me by playing for a little while or going outside.
Luckily, these breakdowns in communication have never caused any major arguments and eventually, we go back to understanding each other.
Sometimes even “dog dads” have parenting issues.

Hello, Worthington!

I can only assume there has been one question burning through the minds of the community during the past week: Who is that weird-looking guy with the long hair suddenly showing up at the Worthington High athletic events?

First of all, to answer your question; it’s me, Zach Hacker, the new sports reporter and latest member to join the newsroom here at the Daily Globe. Secondly, to make myself slightly less weird-looking (certain things can’t be completely mended) I did get a haircut and now look more like a 17-year-old boy than a really ugly 14-year-old girl.

Now that we’ve got all that out of the way, my real age is 28 and I couldn’t be more excited to back in my home state. I was born and raised in New Richland, a small town of about 1,200 people in south-central Minnesota. I went to high school at NRHEG (New Richland-Hartland-Ellendale-Geneva), a school that has recently made a name for itself by winning back-to-back Class AA girls basketball championships. (Yes, I do know Carlie Wagner. However, I’m not sure if I can get you her autograph.)

After finishing up at NRHEG in 2004, I attended school at Bethany Lutheran College in Mankato for two years before finishing college at Minnesota State University, Mankato in 2008.

My first job out of college was as a general assignment reporter at The N’West Iowa REVIEW in Sheldon, Iowa. I worked there for a little less than a year before going back home to take a sports editor position at the Waseca County News. I was at the County News for nearly three years before deciding I was ready to get out and experience something outside of the upper Midwest.

I landed in Emporia, Kansas, where I was the sports editor at The Emporia Gazette for two years. While I loved my time in Kansas, I was ready to get closer to home; and that is how I wound up here at The Daily Globe.

As far as who I am as a person, I’ll tell you this; I’m working in my dream job. Sports have been a passion of mine since I was very young (I’ve even likened it to an addiction at times) and the fact that I now get paid to watch sports, write about sports and talk to people about sports; seriously, what could be better? That’s everything I’d want to be doing anyway.

I’m a diehard Vikings and Twins fan and if I’m not at work and they’re playing, I’m most likely watching. Otherwise, I’m a pretty laid-back guy. Aside from sports, I’d say my favorite thing to do is spend time with family, friends and my dog, Homer. If I can do all of that while on a lake, that’s pretty close to being a perfect day for me.

As I said, I’m really excited to be here in Worthington and can’t wait to meet everyone. If you see me out and about, whether I’m covering a game or tearing through a burger somewhere, feel free to stop by and say hi. And don’t worry, I’m not as weird as I look.