Independently Speaking

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Independently Speaking

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Just a guy in an old house in a small place, trying to figure out what matters.

11/03/2026

I'll be at the Appleton Library on Thursday. Stop on by and chat...I think it will be a good time.

10/30/2026

It was my wife’s birthday last week. I’m not going to mention which birthday, because some people don’t like to talk about that sort of thing. Once I ran into one of my former Sunday School students who’d had a birthday.

I said, “Missy, congratulations! Just think, you’re a half century old!”

She gave me a look that a lesser man would have interpreted as disapproving, but I knew that couldn’t be the case, because I was in fact congratulating her on becoming a year older, which is a good thing.

So, you’re welcome.

I’m not stupid. When I greeted her, she was on the other side of a tall counter. At half a century old, I was pretty sure she couldn’t hurdle it, and there was nothing sharp or heavy she could throw. I’m still a little concerned – she's a smart woman and she knows where I live, but despite the risk it was worth it.

When do birthdays stop being fun? For a decade or so, I just wished for a pony and settled for a book. Turning eighteen felt like a milestone, but I don’t remember any party or celebration. We were already married when I turned twenty-one, so I guess I felt like a grownup. Other rites of passage were unrelated to the calendar. When I turned thirty, we had three small children, so there’s a pretty good chance I was too busy to notice my birthday. I think my fortieth was when my wife and her friend threw me a surprise party, which was big fun. The plot was that we were invited for dinner at their house and when we walked in a bunch of people yelled, “Surprise!” We lead separate-yet-entangled lives, so the guest list was wonderfully eclectic. Some of them had never met each other; knowing one or both of us was the only connection. One couple invited were famous for being late - a problem when it comes to surprise parties. To solve this, my wife told them to arrive half an hour earlier than everyone else. Solid plan, except they discussed it and decided they didn’t want to ruin the party, so they got there half an hour early. They spent an hour sitting in the house of some people they’d never met, waiting for the party to start.

Fifty and sixty passed without much comment, but for our 70th birthdays, our kids threw us a dual party. Surprise parties work well for me, because I sort of stumble blithely through life most of the time. I’d never make a good TV detective since I rarely notice clues of any kind.

I have a birthday coming up myself. I’ve long since stopped wishing for a pony, although I have some concerns that my family will gift me with a couple of miniature donkeys or maybe an alpaca.

What I’d really like is a book.

Copyright 2026 Brent Olson

10/23/2026

My friend was showing me his tool shed and pointed out a ladder. He said, “That’s my stepladder.” Then he added, “I never knew my real ladder.”

I don’t know what I’m going to do; I’m slowly losing my audience. My youngest grandchild is 12, and he’s already showing signs of not being able to appreciate my jokes. His sister is 15 and pretty soon I’m going to have to remind her that if she keeps rolling her eyes like that, they’re just going to keep going in circles. The oldest three are relatively polite, but I’ve heard two of them say “Oh, Papa!” way too many times.

Here’s a question. If a pig loses his voice, does he become disgruntled?

We live in hard times; there’s no doubt about it. Climate change, reject Chinese hamburger in the grocery stores, and whatever term you can come up with to describe our political woes. That’s why it’s important to have someone like me at the dinner table, ready to share my wit and wisdom.

At a job interview they asked me where I thought I would see myself in five years. I said, “Five years? I could be wrong, but I think we’ll probably still be using mirrors.”

Here’s a tip for you. The best time to try out new jokes is during a big family dinner. It is very seldom that people get up and walk out, at least not until after dessert has been served.

Do you know the last thing my granddad said to me before he kicked the bucket? “Hey, Grandson, watch how far I can kick this bucket.”

Now that I’m no longer a county commissioner, I don’t get out much. Ninety-nine percent of the time the only human being within a mile of me is my wife. And there’s a chance, slim but still a chance, that she might not be as smitten by my jokes as she used to be. Actually, that’s not true. I think she’s just as smitten as she ever was. When we were dating, I told her a joke and she didn’t laugh. Even though it was half a century ago, I remember the moment clearly. I was a little offended and asked her why. She replied, “Because it wasn’t funny.” I have to admit, I recommend marrying someone who makes you earn their laughter.

A son told his father, “I have an imaginary girlfriend.” The father said, “I think you can do better.” The son said, “Thanks Dad, that means a lot.” The father said, “I was talking to your girlfriend.”

Maybe I’ve just exhausted my audience. I might have to just start branching out. So, if you see me at the gas station or standing in line at the coffee shop, brace yourself. You might not see this one coming.

I just got my doctor’s test results and they weren’t good. Looks like I’m never going to be a doctor.

Copyright 2026 Brent Olson

Address

34596 690th Avenue
Ortonville, MN
56278

Telephone

+13202732297

Website

https://www.brentolson.online/

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