Rise and Shine Otters, Spiess in the Morning, broadcasting and podcasting from the spectacular studios next to the swamp and today the sky is currently deciding whether it wants to be cloudy or just thoughtful.
It's June 18th, friends. A day stitched together with whimsy, protein, and a little bit of rock ‘n’ roll. Let’s sit back, sip our coffee—or tea if you’re riding the gentler rhythms today—and ride the breeze of what this day brings us…
Today, the calendar calls out to the sensualists, the dreamers, and the patient souls. It’s National Splurge Day—a sweet, guilt-free nod to indulgence. Whether it’s that vintage record you’ve had your eye on, a fishing pole upgrade, or a long, slow dinner at the Depot on 59 with all the fixins'... today is your day to say “yes.” Not the frantic, consumerist yes, but that old soul yes that says, “I deserve a little joy just because I’m here.” For all you Parks and Rec fans out there - it’s a treat yourself day.
Speaking of fishing—yes, Go Fishing Day is casting its quiet line too. There's something holy about fishing, isn't there? Still water, whispering trees, the hopeful flick of a wrist. Thoreau called it a form of meditation. Others call it dinner. Either way, drop a line and maybe pull more peace than perch from the water.
And if fish is your thing—raw and radiant—International Sushi Day rolls up right beside it. A culinary haiku: rice, fish, seaweed, harmony. For our landlocked friends here in Minnesota, sushi might be a metaphor more than a meal, but for those with adventurous palettes and a decent chunk of wasabi on hand—it’s a day to dive in.
Of course, you can’t forget Cheese Makers Day. To the artisans in aprons who turn milk into magic—we salute you. Cheese, like good jazz, is all about timing, patience, and bacteria doing its funkified thing. It’s amazing what fermentation can do, isn’t it? Turn milk into brie... grapes into wine... time into wisdom. And for you Monty Python fans out there - blessed are the cheesemakers big nose.
Round out the menu with Picnic Day. Blanket. Basket. A breeze. Maybe a lover or just a book. Whether it’s lakeside or curbside, a picnic is an act of resistance to hurry. It says, “I will eat slowly today. I will feel the grass.”
Let’s sprinkle in some birthday candles.
Born today: Blake Shelton, that towering troubadour of twang. Country music with a wink and a whiskey drawl. Whether he's crooning heartache or cracking jokes on The Voice, the man knows how to keep things real.
Carole Kane—otherworldly, whimsical, and as iconic in Taxi as she is in the echoing halls of Broadway. She’s the kind of actress that makes you believe in ghosts, fairies, and oddballs with tender hearts.
Sir Paul McCartney turns another page today. A Beatle, a bard, a bass-strumming dreamer. From Eleanor Rigby to Live and Let Die, Paul’s been scoring our lives for decades. If music is a kind of time travel, then Paul’s voice is the DeLorean.
Also born on this day, George Mikan, the gentle giant who revolutionized basketball. Before Shaq, before Kareem—there was Mikan, dominating the lane and changing the game. He was even a Laker before the team went Hollywood. Mikan was one of Minnesota’s original sports superstars.
And we’ve got Nathan Morris of Boyz II Men fame. Smooth harmonies, hearts on sleeves, and slow dances at every middle school gym in the ‘90s. If you’ve ever whispered “I’ll Make Love to You” into a pretend microphone—thank Nathan for that.
And finally, a few historical footnotes to round out the reel: on this day in 1815, Napoleon met his end at Waterloo. Proof that even the most brilliant strategists can be undone by a muddy field and a bit of overconfidence. In 1983, Sally Ride became America’s first woman in space. She rode the heavens so the rest of us could expand our dreams beyond the sky.
So whether you’re splurging, casting, rolling sushi, aging cheese, or just stretching out on a picnic blanket with someone who makes your soul feel light—do it with intention today.
And remember, folks, life is not just about making it to the weekend. It's about finding joy on a Wednesday in June, with dragonflies in the air and a second slice of cheesecake calling your name.
Spiess in the Morning, sending you beautiful otters some festive energy and cheerful vibes. Stay curious. Stay kind. And stay a little hungry for something more.
Let’s cue up a little Blind Joe who was one of birthday boy Blake Shelton’s favorites when Blind Joe was on NBC’s The Voice.
Spiess in the Morning — your unofficial guide to the invisible threads that tie us to the land, to each other, and to the mysterious choreography of the cosmos.
This morning, I want to talk about fishing. It’s Go Fishing Day, so let’s fish.
Not the sport, not the weekend activity with a case of beer and a shiny tackle box. I’m talkin’ about fishing as something far older. Something older than steel hooks, older than boats, even older than language. I mean the act of reaching into the mystery of water — casting out — waiting — hoping — receiving.
See, the thing is, water calls to us. We’re born from it. We are it. Our bodies are more than 60% water. Our brains float in it. Our cells swim in it. We don’t just live with water — we carry the ocean inside us. The salt of our blood is the same salt that moves in the tides.
And fishing… fishing is our oldest way of answering that call.
When you stand on the bank and throw your line into the unknown, you’re not just trying to catch dinner. You’re participating in something ancestral. The motion, the stillness, the patience — they’re baked into your bones. You can feel it in the way your hand knows how to work the reel, how your eyes track the water for ripples, shadows, signs. That’s not learned. That’s remembered.
Long before we had stories written down, long before books or scrolls or maps, there were hands carving fish into cave walls. Think about that. Our earliest art — not of kings or wars or gods — but of fish. Why? Because that fish meant survival. It meant nourishment. It meant life from something invisible just beneath the surface.
You don’t need a theology degree or a mythological dictionary to understand that something sacred happens when a person fishes. It's ceremony without robes. Prayer without words. It's humility — the kind you don’t find in skyscrapers or on conference calls.
And here’s the thing: you can’t force a fish. You can’t speed it up. You can’t make it appear. You can prepare. You can cast your line. But then you have to wait. You have to surrender. And in that waiting… something shifts. Time slows down. The edges of the world soften. Your breath falls into rhythm with the water. You start to hear things — not out loud, but inside. Old things. Quiet things.
You start to feel like maybe you’re not just on this earth — maybe you belong to it. Maybe you're part of something older, something circular, something that keeps swimming, upstream and down, season after season.
And every fish you catch — it’s not just food. It’s a reminder. That life is hidden, quiet, deep. That if you're patient, if you're still, and if you respect the water, it might just offer you a gift.
So whether you’re casting into a winding Minnesota river or watching the ripples in a backyard pond, know this: you’re not alone out there. Your ancestors are with you. The old rhythms are with you. The water remembers.
Alright, otters— keep your lines untangled, your minds open, and your hearts downstream.
This is Spiess in the Morning, letting the world drift by, one cast at a time.
SONG BY EMMA WOOD AND TIM EGGEBRAATEN
It's your lopsided loon of the north, Spiess in the Morning, flying sideways into your psyche like a mosquito that’s made peace with its purpose.
Ah, summer. That glorious stretch of sun-drenched optimism where the mosquitoes are bold, the squirrels are stubborn, and everyone suddenly remembers that the deck has been rotting since the Clinton administration.
It’s the season when your average rational human decides to challenge God, gravity, and basic engineering—all in one weekend—armed with nothing more than a YouTube tutorial, a warped Philips head screwdriver and some half remembered worker wisdom passed down from Grandpa Simon.
Now, there's something uniquely American about the phrase: "We’ll do it ourselves." It sounds noble. It sounds empowering. It sounds… like the prelude to tetanus.
You see, I embarked on the sacred journey of home repair last Saturday. Armed with cold lemonade, high hopes, and my buddy Sterling’s borrowed circular saw—which, by the way, is haunted—I endeavored to fix my back steps. They'd grown so wobbly, they were less "stairs" and more "optical illusion."
My plan was simple. Remove the old boards, measure, cut, drill. No sweat. But somewhere between “measure once” and “cut wherever it feels right,” I ended up with a staircase that only makes sense if you're a goat with a limp.
And then friends showed up. Because no summer DIY odyssey is complete without a Greek chorus of compadres who "once helped Uncle Jerry fix a sink" and now consider themselves the patron saints of duct tape and drywall.
You haven’t lived until you’ve had a buddy—who once broke his thumb with a staple gun—tell you that your joists are “emotionally misaligned.” Thanks, Todd. Real helpful.
Let’s talk tools. The ancient, rusted tool box handed down through the generations is basically the Ark of the Covenant of poor decisions in my world. Every time I open it, I lose a socket wrench and gain a tetanus booster. Somewhere in the back is that one bent Allen key no one throws away, just in case IKEA opens a franchise in Alexandria.
And safety? Safety is theoretical. That moment when you balance on a stepladder with one foot while holding a gutter in your teeth like some suburban pirate—that’s not OSHA-approved, that’s just Darwin being polite.
But you know what, otters? There’s a strange beauty in all of it. The laughter, the sunburn, the screaming match over how to properly hang drywall... It’s not about perfection—it’s about the process. That sacred summer ritual where broken stuff gets a little more broken, but your soul gets patched up in the process.
And as night falls, you sit around the fire pit—surrounded by crooked shelves, too-long curtain rods, and a porch that angles ever so gently toward Mordor—and you feel… proud. Because you built that. Sort of.
So here’s to the heroes of home repair. The weekend warriors with splinters in their thumbs and Band-Aids on their pride. The ones who believe that if duct tape can’t fix it, you’re probably just not using enough duct tape.
Stay safe, stay curious, and remember: the only thing level in life is the horizon.
The OtterTalk media network – Doing our best to keep the small town smiles alive, fish tales told and the coffee percolating.
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OTTER TALK COMMUNITY CALENDAR
Kate’s Korner Antiques & Collectables is NOW OPEN in Elizabeth! Located across the street from the liquor store on Hwy 59, Kate’s Korner is a must stop and see. If you see the flags flapping in the wind, she’s open and ready to serve your nostalgic needs.
Paul’s Farm Fresh Eggs - $3/dozen - call or text 218-205-7779 (Elizabeth Area)
Abbie’s Farm Fresh Eggs - $9 for 30 eggs - washed or unwashed - call or text 320-349-0942
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.
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 Wednesday Everyone! Feel free to like, share and or comment!
Please tune in tomorrow for more local lakes area tunes, totally tubular tales, and some small-town smiles.
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