Happy Birthday, Dad
By Mitch Berg
I’ve long had a theory that people are best-acclimated to the weather they were first exposed to.
For example, when I left the hospital it was 25 degrees below zero. I rarely button my jacket if it’s above 10 degrees, and love the winter (commuting and getting kids to school aside); the dog days of summer pretty much incapacitate me if I’m not violently and constantly physically active.
Dad, on the other hand, was born in the hottest summer in history. The temperature stayed in the 120s in central North Dakota during that year, the height of the dust bowl. And Dad, as long as I can remember, was immune to heat; on a 95 degree day he could play five sets of tennis, have a cup of iced tea, and knock out 18 holes without breaking a sweat. Of course, if it got below 40 degrees, he’d start like a Fiat, but them’s your tradeoffs.
Of course, heat resistance is a thin claim to fame. Dad has more claims, naturally. Here’s a good story.
In 1986, I was working at KSTP. I was producing “The Company Challenge”, a lame game show at the Criterion, a bar/restaurant in Bloomington. During the break the host, Mike Edwards, phoned out to the studio.
“Hey, Mitch – there’s a couple of guys here who’re asking if you’re related to a Bruce Berg who taught English in Rugby, North Dakota in 1960”.
“Yep”, I responded.
“Ah. They say he was the best ever…”
He was the best high school teacher anyone ever had; everyone in Jamestown ND either had him in class, and/or had kids who had him, and/or had parents who’d had him. Sometimes two out of three (although Dad claims to have had no three-generation families), and everyone says he was the best ever. Including me.
His signature subject was speech, which he taught as long as I can remember. He took generations of scared, stage-shy kids and turned them into capable public speakers – and took at least one born ham and taught him some technique and love of the genuine aesthetics of the subject. Everyone should have such a speech teacher.
Beyond that? The only thing on earth that rivals his command of baseball trivia is my knowledge of music trivia. And he’s got the book to prove it.
Anyway – happy birthday, Dad!
July 5th, 2008 at 9:49 am
Interesting theory. I was born in the middle of October, so by you theory I should abhor both extremes of temperature. The reality is, after nearly 50 years I am weary of the cold winter thing. Two years ago I was down in Sarasota in July and drove around town with the windows open, loving the heat. That’s not to say I’d go out and play tennis in 90 degrees. An Ice cold adult beverage in the shade is a reflection of the divine. For Mitch we toss in Marisa Tomei in the other beach chair…
July 5th, 2008 at 11:57 am
Mitch, my brother in law, Bob Schmaltz, says hello. You were ahead of him by a few years, but probably went to school with his older brothers and sister. I seem to meet about a hundred people per year from Rugby – pretty sure that’s not possible, but the town does seem to have a disproportionate impact here in the midwest.
July 5th, 2008 at 1:09 pm
Alec,
We left Rugby when I was about two years old, so I don’t know a lot of Rugbyites – although I knew some Schmaltzses (from when I worked in Carrington; I think there were some in New Rockford).
Rugbyite Nancy Johnson was a classmate of mine in college, if that rings a bell.
July 5th, 2008 at 4:18 pm
Thanks Mitch. I’ll pass this on to my N.D. distant relatives. My brother-in-law said he knew your dad, though (in North Dakota, everyone must know pretty much everyone, huh? :-))