Rise and Shine otters… It’s June 5th out there, and I don’t know if the midnight sun has been playing tricks on your REM cycles, but if you’ve been tossing and turning under that persistent golden glow, take heart: today’s a good day to be awake.
June 5th—on the Gregorian calendar, she’s a shapeshifter. One foot in spring’s lazy meadows, the other inching toward the sweaty bustle of summer’s full embrace. The air smells like sap and second chances.
Today, we mark World Environment Day, first declared by the UN in 1972. A global nudge to look around—really look—at this spinning rock we’re borrowing. The forests that breathe for us, the rivers that remember glaciers, the fox tracks crossing the dirt roads of Erhardt. Take a moment. Plant a thought. Or a tree. Preferably both.
And speaking of memorable footprints on the Earth—on this day back in 1968, a man who walked through history like a wildfire, Robert F. Kennedy, was fatally shot in Los Angeles. He had just won the California primary. A brother, a senator, a dreamer cut from the same cloth as tragedy and Camelot. You can almost hear the echo of his words today: “Some men see things as they are and say, why? I dream things that never were and say, why not?”
Now if it’s your birthday today, you’re in good company—like really good company.
The king of smooth, Kenny G, was born on this day in 1956. The man who made the soprano saxophone whisper to our hearts. Say what you will about elevator music—Kenny made it soar. And here’s a weird cosmic rhythm for you: he once held a note for 45 minutes. Some folks can’t hold a thought for 45 seconds.
Robert Kraft—business mogul and New England Patriots overlord—also celebrates today. Whether you see him as a titan of industry or just the guy who helped put six Super Bowl rings on Tom Brady’s hand, the man knows how to turn yard lines into gold mines.
And then there’s Ron Livingston, of Office Space and Band of Brothers fame. He gave us Peter Gibbons, patron saint of the disaffected office worker. On a day like today, when you feel a little stuck in the TPS report of life, Ron reminds us to unplug, unsnarl, and maybe go fishing with a red Swingline stapler by your side.
We’ve also got birthday candles burning for Marky Mark Wahlberg, who swaggered from boy band beats to Hollywood box office. Ken Follett, who built entire cathedrals out of prose. And let’s not forget Pancho Villa, revolutionary, outlaw, hero, depending on which side of history you’re standing.
In the world of pop culture, June 5, 1981, saw the wide release of a little film called Raiders of the Lost Ark. That’s right—Indy, the whip, the hat, the snakes. “Why’d it have to be snakes?” Steven Spielberg and George Lucas introduced us to a professor who made archaeology look like jazz and gunpowder. If you need an excuse to dust off that VHS tape—or let’s be real, stream it in 4K—that's your cosmic permission slip.
And closer to home… this is the kind of day in the land of otters, where the dogs lounge on porches like philosophers, and the post office smells faintly of wildflowers mixed with overdue bills. Tim the cook is probably flipping sourdough pancakes the size of hubcaps at the cafe, and Kate might just have a copy of Silent Spring in the store window—because Rachel Carson deserves a reread today, too.
So wherever you are—out fishing, journaling on a hillside, or just listening with your boots off and your brain in idle—take a breath for the environment, a moment for history, and a smile for the birthdays that tie us to the great human quilt of June 5.
I’m Spiess in the Morning… reminding myself and anyone else listening: every day is a canvas, and June 5 brought the paint.
Spiess in the Morning coming to you from the spectacular studios next to the swamp where the loons outnumber the voters. You know, otters, there’s a bite in the air this morning, the kind that creeps up your spine before you even step outside. And maybe that’s the kind of cold we don’t talk about enough—the kind that slips into our homes, our families, our friend circles. I’m talking about emotional frostbite. The kind people get when they’ve been too close to someone who knows how to cut with words sharper than a January wind.
Now I had a dream last night. I was walking through the forest next to the Pelican River, and I came across two fires. One was small but hot—it flared up with every gust of wind, unpredictable and dangerous. The other fire was surrounded by people sitting calmly, hands outstretched like it was some sacred hearth. Only this fire, folks, it wasn’t hot. It was smoke. It was choking everyone.
And I realized—those two fires? One’s the abuser. The one who lashes out, scorches, manipulates. The other fire? That’s the enablers. The ones who say, “It’s not that bad,” or “He’s just having a hard time,” or “She’s been through a lot, you have to understand.”
See, the abuser might strike first—but the enablers? They help build the stage, sell the tickets, and tell the audience to stay in their seats when the play turns ugly.
It’s easy to spot the villain in the black hat. But what about the friend who always looks away? The sibling who says “don’t rock the boat?” The coworker who chuckles nervously and changes the subject? Enabling isn’t passive. It’s quiet participation.
Now I’m not saying it’s easy to speak up. Sometimes it feels like you’re the only one in a room full of mirrors shouting that one of them ain’t real. But silence is a form of loyalty too—and not always the noble kind.
Which is harder to live with? The fire that burns? Or the people who keep refueling it, telling you it’s your fault you keep getting singed?
I guess the real question is—what happens when we stop pretending the smoke is incense?
If you’re listening out there, and this hits close to home, remember this: you’re not crazy. You’re just awake. And there’s a whole world waiting for you outside that toxic little campfire.
This is Spiess in the Morning, reminding you that warmth doesn’t come from manipulation, and peace doesn’t come from pretending everything’s okay.
Stay real otters, stay strong and stay real.
Spiess in the Morning still thinking and pondering about the quiet chorus of enablers who keep the show going. And that got me thinking about one of history’s oldest stories. For this I will be reaching into my pastoral literature and look to the Good Book. You might’ve heard of this story involving two men, one crowd, one choice. Jesus Christ and Barabbas.
Now picture it: Jerusalem, a city on edge. The crowd is offered a choice by Pontius Pilate—release Jesus, a man known for healing the sick, turning the other cheek, preaching love and forgiveness... or Barabbas, a convicted rebel and murderer, a man of violence and fury.
And the people? They chose Barabbas.
That’s always stuck with me, not just because of the injustice, but because of what it says about human nature. They didn’t pick the man who could heal them. They picked the man who matched their chaos. Maybe because Barabbas made more sense in a world that already felt broken. Maybe because the crowd had been stirred, manipulated, afraid of losing the world they knew.
But here’s the kicker—Jesus didn’t fight it. He didn’t rally the crowd, shout down Pilate, or beg for his life. He let it happen, not because he was weak, but because he was strong enough to see the truth. Sometimes, people don’t want healing. They want familiar pain.
And maybe that’s what happens in our lives, too. We know who the Barabbas is. We’ve seen him lose his temper, gaslight, manipulate. And we know who the Christ is—the one who speaks truth quietly, who challenges us to grow, who offers peace instead of power.
But how many times have we chosen Barabbas? In our families, our politics, our relationships. How many times have we ignored the gentle voice and followed the loud one?
The crowd wasn’t evil, necessarily. Just afraid. Just confused. Just... human. And maybe that’s the real tragedy—not that Barabbas walked free, but that the people didn’t know what they were giving up when they let Christ go.
So what’s the takeaway, dear listeners?
In every moment of conflict, in every emotionally toxic room, you’ll find a Barabbas, and you’ll find a Christ. And you might find yourself in the crowd—tired, unsure, pressured to make peace with the wrong choice.
But don’t forget—you don’t have to chant with the crowd. You can stay quiet. You can step away. You can choose differently.
This is Spiess in the Morning, reminding myself and anyone out there listening: sometimes the path of truth looks like sacrifice, and the crowd won’t always cheer for the healer. But redemption? That’s still on the table. Always.
SONG BY SAVING REIGN
Spiess in the Morning your broadcaster podcaster beaming out some low wattage words on a Thursday in the month of June. And today I want to talk bridal showers. Once upon a time, they weren’t just Pinterest boards come to life or gift registries scanned with barcode wands in big box stores. No, before the tea sandwiches and the toilet paper bridal gowns, bridal showers were soaked in folklore, community, and yes, a little rebellion.
History tells us the first bridal showers cropped up in 16th or 17th century Holland. A young woman wanted to marry a miller—poor in coin but rich in love. Her father disapproved, withheld the dowry, and tried to stop the wedding. But the townspeople rallied, each bringing a gift, and together they made up what tradition tried to withhold. That, my friends, wasn’t just a bridal shower—it was a revolution of the heart. A moment when love became a shared, collective act.
Fast forward a couple hundred years and the Victorian Era rolled out the fine china and lace doilies. These genteel affairs in drawing rooms and parlors became little rituals of etiquette and domestic prophecy. “Here, darling, have a teacup—you’re going to need it when you serve Earl Grey to your husband’s boss.” A genteel bribe for the burden of domesticity, served with petit fours and polite laughter.
By the time the 1950s swirled into technicolor, bridal showers in America had taken on the air of suburban spectacle. Tupperware. Cake molded like a hatbox. Aunt Lois giggling as the bride-to-be unwrapped a new Sunbeam Mixmaster. And don’t forget the bridal bingo. Oh, the bingo.
Today? Well, we’ve evolved—or maybe just splintered. There’s the boho garden party in the backyard with mimosas and Polaroids. There’s the co-ed “Jack and Jill” shower with cornhole tournaments and custom cocktail napkins. There’s even the “no gift” minimalist affair, more about mindfulness than monogrammed towels.
And don’t get me started on the themes. From “Diamonds and Denim” to “Love is Brewing,” we’ve got showers with signature drinks and custom playlists. We’re photographing it all, filtering it, hashtagging it. Documenting every mimosa pour like we’re all starring in some matrimonial miniseries.
But beneath all the evolution, all the style swaps and shifting norms, there’s still that same ancient whisper of community. It’s still a gathering of people who want to say, We see you. We celebrate your leap into the unknown. We’ve got your back.
Whether you’re sipping chai in a yurt or playing "Guess the Spice" in a church basement, the heart of it remains. The myth of the bride as lone damsel waiting to be rescued has been replaced, slowly, with the truth of partnership, of choice, and of connection. It’s less about preparing her to serve, and more about surrounding her with love as she builds something new.
So if you’re headed to one of these showers soon—bring more than a gift. Bring a story, bring a laugh, bring a reminder that marriage is more than matching bath towels—it’s two people, choosing again and again, to build something sturdy and soft.
This is Spiess in the Morning, reminding myself and anyone out there listening that in a world where love stories unfold faster than Amazon Prime deliveries, maybe the real tradition is showing up—hands full, heart open.”
SONG BY PATRICK THIEL & HALEY E RYDELL
SPECIAL OTTERTALK PARAMOUNT PLUS SPECIAL BELOW
OTTER TALK COMMUNITY CALENDAR
Q & A with Justice Alan Page at the Pelican Rapids Public Library - Retired Minnesota Supreme Court Justice Alan Page will provide insight on the Diane and Alan Page Collection and how the TESTIFY Exhibit was created to showcase significant art and artifacts from that collection. A companion program to the TESTIFY Exhibit, on view at the library through June 30. Click here for more info
Paul’s Fresh Eggs - $3/dozen - call or text 218-205-7779
Abbie’s Fresh Eggs - $9 for 30 eggs (washed or unwashed) - call or text 763-355-2891
Summer Fest in Fergus Falls is Friday June 13 and Saturday June 14.
The Shoreline Bowling Alley in Battle Lake has open bowling All Summer Long. Call 218-864-5265 for more info or stop by 505 N Lake Ave, Battle Lake, MN.
The Bookmobile stops across from the Parkers Prairie Post Office every other Wednesday throughout the year. You can find the Bookmobile there from 3 pm to 4 pm. Not only does the Bookmobile have books, movies & magazines to check out, but the Bookmobile and member libraries also offer a wide variety of electronic resources including Ebooks, downloadable audiobooks, streaming movies, TV and music, and a wide variety of educational databases and distance learning resources.
Join The Depot on 59’s Summer Volleyball league in Erhard, MN! 8 Weeks- Ages 21+- Coed Teams.
Volleyball & Chill Wednesday:
May 28-July 23
July 30-September 10th
Power Players Thursday:
May 29-July 14th
July 31-September 11th
Sign your team up today by calling 218-842-5185 or stop by The Depot on Hwy 59 in Erhard. $20 Per team sign up $2 per person per night. 100% payback.
If you have a community event for the Community Bulletin Board, email studio@ottertalk.media
Food & Festivities
Long Bridge Bar, Grill & Marina (Detroit Lakes): Check out the Pepper Jack Slaw Dog, a 1/4 lb all beef hot dog served on a poppy seed bun with sweet chili sauce, spicy pepper jack cheese, and topped with coleslaw.
Knotty Pine (Elbow Lake): Offering great food, cold drinks, and fantastic service. It’s Create-Your-Own-Pasta time - your choice of pasta, protein, sauce and veggies!
Garden Bar (Alexandria): Locally owned, The Garden Bar is committed to providing its guests with a memorable dining experience through fresh and eclectic menu options, an extensive wine and beer list and hand-crafted cocktails. Celebrate Truffle Day and try the Pomme Frites, which are hand-cut, then topped with gruyere, bacon, scallions and truffle aioli.
Rothsay Powerhouse (Rothsay): Burgers, wings, walleye fingers, dinner specials and much more! Live Music, tasty drinks and friendly staff.
Want Otter Talk to highlight a local musician or upcoming gig? Email studio@ottertalk.media
Happy Thursday Everyone! Feel free to like, share and or comment!
Please tune in Friday for more local lakes area tunes, totally tubular tales, and some small-town smiles.
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