Graduation

The cranes are gone and the grass is green. The drive to Omaha was delightful. Not withstanding our most recent snowfall, spring may finally have sprung.

Grannie Annie and I proudly went to watch our eldest grandchild, Monique Ann Monzon, graduate from college. She and about 400 of her fellow students can now officially boast whatever the symbol is for a bachelor's degree behind their names. They were joined by another 60+ who received their master's degrees from the University of Nebraska Omaha.

Actually hers was just one of several UNO colleges to graduate last Saturday. It was an efficient ceremony for happy graduates with doting family, friends and significant others in the audience cheering them on for their walk across the stage. Oh, what a wonderful future these bright young persons are facing. One can only pray for individual success and happy lives for each.

University graduations in Omaha and Lincoln brought lots of visitors to town. Then Warren Buffet scheduled his Berkshire Hathaway stockholders meeting and another 30,000 attended and needed lodging.

We could find nary a motel room, so towed our camper for a place to bunk. Pulling that beast is really tough on gas mileage, so I hold the speed down to trucker-preferred 65 mph, which makes interstate travel a little dicey. It is an excuse to explore the byways and enjoy a less-busy Nebraska. Friendly little towns like Juniata, Kenesaw, Heartwell, and more each have their individual charm and probably appreciate our pauses for food and fuel.

Drought is evidently quite a motivator. It used to be that seeing a center pivot much east of Grand Island was rather a rare sight. Suddenly, this spring the quarter-mile long machines have proliferated all the way to the Missouri River.

Most are new installations evidenced by no tracks in last year's stubble. It seems odd that limiting irrigation in the Republican Valley and sending the water to Kansas is the order of the day. In the next valley over where the river drains into the Missouri fantastic development of underground pumping and center pivot irrigation is the way to go. I guess it all depends on where the water inevitably leaves the state. Only politicians making arbitrary rules can foul something up that bad!

Noted on the local airport ramp last Saturday. A pair of gentlemen stopped in McCook for fuel on their trip from Sacramento, to Pella. The owner had just relocated his family from California to Iowa. His nice Vee-tailed Bonanza was the last item to make the move. Stretching the string across the chart showed McCook to be the ideal place to stop for fuel and lunch. Ideal until they noted that our airport's official name is now McCook Ben Nelson Regional Airport.

The pilot stated that they did not want anything to do with an airport that was named after the man that was one of the key figures in passing Obamacare. Both wanted to divert to Grand Island to refuel themselves and their trusty airplane rather than patronize a community that would name its airport after Ben Nelson.

Due to being low on fuel, they landed in McCook, despite much protest by the copilot. Probably the fact that aircraft fuel tends to be much cheaper at McCook than Grand Island had a little to do with that decision.

Thanks again to the movers and shakers that just had to get our airport renamed. Nice fence too.

That is how I saw it.

Dick Trail