Todd Swank

Fort Snelling: Minnesota's Original Gated Community

noreply@blogger.com (Todd Swank) — Mon, 12 Oct 2026 01:21:12 +0000

Fort Snelling: Minnesota's Original Gated Community

Todd Swank's Diary Entry for October 11, 2026

I spent Thursday night in Westminster, Colorado, for a quick customer meeting before flying home Friday. The weather was beautiful, and seeing the Rocky Mountains in the distance never gets old. Unfortunately, neither does my reaction to the altitude. Apparently, my lungs consider anything above Minnesota's elevation to be an extreme sport.

On Saturday, Miss Sheri and I decided to visit Fort Snelling. Amazingly, in the 30+ years I've lived in Minnesota, I'd never visited the state's first National Historic Landmark. Apparently, I've spent three decades driving past 200 years of history without getting curious enough to stop. In my defense, nobody ever mentioned there were cannons.

Fort Snelling was built at Bdote, a sacred Dakota site where the Minnesota and Mississippi rivers meet. The high bluffs made it the perfect spot to control river traffic and keep an eye on approaching trouble. Apparently, the location was pretty intimidating because nobody ever attacked the fort. Two centuries later, Minnesota's original gated community still has a perfect security record.

The Round Tower was probably the coolest part of Fort Snelling. Built in 1820 with thick stone walls, narrow gun openings, and room for a cannon, it was designed to make life miserable for anyone foolish enough to attack. We climbed the winding stairs to the top, where it became pretty obvious why nobody ever tried. Amazingly, an electrician & his wife actually lived inside the tower in the 1930s. Nothing says marital bliss quite like sharing a giant stone bunker with your spouse. Especially one designed to withstand a siege.

We also got to see some cannons from the fort's early days, but unfortunately, they wouldn't let us fire them. Seems a little nanny state to me. Imagine how much more popular this place would be if every visitor got to launch a cannonball at the fort's walls. What better way to demonstrate 200-year-old craftsmanship? Sure, you'd eventually destroy a National Historic Landmark, but think of the ticket sales!

We toured the barracks to see how soldiers lived through the years. In the more modern setups, each soldier actually got his own cot. In earlier days, two soldiers had to squeeze into each tiny bunk together. Imagine surviving a long day of military training only to discover your sleeping arrangements involved spooning with a sweaty guy named Earl. And people complain about basic training today!

There's also a fascinating museum covering the fort's history, including some pretty dark chapters. Dred and Harriet Scott were enslaved here, and Dakota people were forcibly confined at the site following the U.S.–Dakota War of 1862. Needless to say, the early settlers and U.S. government don't exactly come across as the good guys in many of the exhibits. Feels very Minnesota. We built a museum to celebrate our history, then spent most of it apologizing for what happened.

Believe it or not, highway planners nearly turned Fort Snelling into a cloverleaf interchange in 1956. Thankfully, cooler heads prevailed, and I'm glad they preserved this incredible piece of history. I found it fascinating imagining life as a soldier stationed here 200 years ago, when fur trading was big business and Minnesota was still mostly wilderness. No electricity, no internet, brutal winters, and your biggest excitement was probably watching a guy negotiate the price of a beaver pelt. Suddenly, my job doesn't seem so boring.

We also stopped at nearby Fort Snelling State Park for a little hiking. Unfortunately, it was 90 degrees in the middle of October, because apparently Minnesota has decided seasons are now just suggestions. We didn't make it very far before deciding we'd experienced enough nature for one day. Nothing says fall in Minnesota quite like admiring the autumn colors while flirting with heatstroke.

Saturday night, Avery and Abby invited Miss Sheri, Luke, and I over to watch some college football and see pictures from their recent trip to Japan. It was great hearing about their adventures, sharing some laughs, and just having everyone together. After a day exploring 200 years of Minnesota history, it was a nice reminder that my favorite memories are still the ones we're making right now. Although I have to admit, watching the boys grow up, get married, and travel the world makes me wonder how the hell I got this old so fast!

@toddswank Rest in Peace, Mike Ditka! #ditka #bears #legend #chicago ♬ original sound - Todd Swank

The Minnesota Zoo Has a Serious Pumpkin Problem

noreply@blogger.com (Todd Swank) — Tue, 06 Oct 2026 02:43:21 +0000

The Minnesota Zoo Has a Serious Pumpkin Problem

Todd Swank's Diary Entry for October 5, 2026

The calendar flipped to October, which apparently means we’re required to add a little spookiness to our lives. So Miss Sheri and I headed out into the darkness hunting for something creepy. We found it. Lots of it. And apparently it had been expecting us.

Our search for some October spookiness brought us to the Jack-O-Lantern Spectacular at the Minnesota Zoo, where more than 5,000 carved pumpkins light up the woods. With pumpkins everywhere, colorful lights, music and fog, it’s quite the spectacle. I’ve seen plenty of jack-o-lanterns in my life. Nothing quite like this.

Abby’s family was visiting from Georgia, so we asked what they had planned while they were in town. When they mentioned the Jack-O-Lantern Spectacular, we jumped at the chance to tag along. We’ve been here before, but getting to experience it with Abby’s family made it even more fun. Turns out inviting ourselves along was an excellent decision.

Abby’s dad Andrew and I get along pretty well, so I don’t think he minded us crashing their party. We had fun wandering the trail together checking out the pumpkins. Apparently we’ve reached the age where this qualifies as a pretty wild Monday night.

What impressed me most was the artwork. Local Minnesota artists help create more than 5,000 illuminated pumpkins, and the detailed ones are basically sculptures. They project images onto the pumpkins, sketch them, then carve and shave different depths to create incredible shadows and detail. Some of the big ones can take up to 20 hours to finish, with themes ranging from animals and monsters to celebrities and pop culture. I struggle with three triangles and a crooked mouth, so these people are clearly practicing some form of pumpkin witchcraft.

All in all, it was a pretty awesome way to spend a few hours with family. A beautiful fall night, thousands of glowing pumpkins, and some good people to enjoy it with. I’m not sure when walking around in the dark looking at vegetables became quality family entertainment, but apparently we’re there.

Sunday brought us to U.S. Bank Stadium to witness an epic battle between our hometown Minnesota Vikings and the formidable Miami Dolphins. Okay, “formidable” might be overselling it a bit, but after decades of Vikings fandom, I’ve learned never to look at an opponent and assume anything good is about to happen.

I went to the game with my #1 son, Luke. Some people might think Avery would be offended by that, but according to the official family record books, Luke was born two minutes before him. So technically, I’m not playing favorites. I’m just respecting the birth order.

The Vikings came into the game 3-0, which might be the shakiest 3-0 start in NFL history. We signed Kyler Murray to a one-year deal this offseason, and while he’s shown flashes of the guy who once went #1 overall in the draft, the jury is still very much out on whether he can be our long-term answer at quarterback. I’m still hopeful. Of course, being a Vikings fan basically means finding new and creative ways to remain hopeful despite decades of evidence suggesting otherwise.

The defense was outstanding again, and somehow our kicker is making a legitimate case for team MVP. Five field goals accounted for all 15 points in a 15-10 win, pushing the Vikings to 4-0. It hasn’t exactly been a dominant march through the NFL, but good teams find ways to win games when everything isn’t clicking. Four weeks in, the Vikings keep doing exactly that. I’ll happily take ugly and undefeated. SKOL!

@toddswank Jordan Mason gave the Vikings a running game. We enjoyed it briefly. 😂 Now we wait. Hurry back, Jordan. 🟣 #SKOL #Vikings #JordanMason #NFL ♬ Unleash the Beast - Apple Core

@toddswank More than 5000 hand carved pumpkins at the Minnesota Zoo’s Jack-O-Lantern Spectacular! #jackolantern #pumpkin #minnesota #halloween ♬ original sound - Todd Swank

@toddswank Used AI to give Mystic Lake’s construction a fast-forward button. Looking at that entrance, I’m starting to think my slot losses should qualify for a naming plaque. 😂 #MysticLake #PriorLake #Minnesota #AI ♬ sonido original - serendipity

@toddswank Five field goals. Every single Vikings point. Against the Dolphins. Somebody get our kicker an ice pack for his foot and another for his back from carrying this entire team. 😂💜 #SKOL #Vikings #NFL #KickersMatter #MiamiDolphins ♬ original sound - Broken.

A Wedding Weekend in Des Moines, Iowa

noreply@blogger.com (Todd Swank) — Mon, 28 Sep 2026 02:56:51 +0000

A Wedding Weekend in Des Moines, Iowa

Todd Swank's Diary Entry for September 27, 2026

I’m starting to realize most of my social life lately revolves around sitting at a table and eating with different people. This week started with taking one of our favorite grandmas, Grandma Linda, out to Texas Roadhouse. She doesn’t eat much anymore, but that doesn’t stop us from bringing her along. Somebody has to watch me eat enough food for both of us.

Tuesday night the eating tour continued as we checked out Chula’s, the newest Mexican restaurant in Prior Lake, with our good friends Tom and Kellie Wolf. Apparently one restaurant wasn’t enough, because afterward we walked downtown to get ice cream. I’m choosing to focus on the word “walked.” At least I’m getting a few steps in on my way to becoming a glutton.

Saturday we headed south to Des Moines, where we spent the night practically in the lap of Iowa’s State Capitol. It’s a pretty spectacular building, completed in 1886 and topped with a 23-karat gold-covered dome that rises nearly 275 feet above the city. It looked especially impressive glowing outside our hotel window at night.

Of course I can’t come to Des Moines without hanging out with my old buddy Krazy Kory. Keeping with this week’s apparent theme, I figured we should document the occasion by taking a picture of us eating. We met at Jethro’s BBQ in Altoona, where I had some excellent boneless chicken wings covered in spicy sauce. At this point, I’m basically just traveling around the Midwest finding different people to eat with.

The real reason for our trip was the wedding of the son of one of my oldest friends, “Jammin’” Jason Davis. We go back to our high school days on the Clear Lake wrestling team, were roommates at a couple different colleges, and best men in each other’s weddings. After surviving all that together, ending the friendship now would require way too much paperwork.

I’ve known Seth since he was born, but this was our first time meeting his new wife, Annie. She seems like a lovely young lady, and it was great seeing the two of them together. Their ceremony was beautiful, personal, and full of smiles, and we were really happy to be there to help them celebrate such a big day.

The River Center in downtown Des Moines made for a pretty spectacular setting. The restored historic building sits on the site of Des Moines’ first brewery and is filled with exposed brick, steel beams, reclaimed wood, and some absolutely enormous sliding wooden doors. I have no idea what originally required doors that size, but apparently early Des Moines had livestock roughly the size of dinosaurs. It was a really unique place to watch Seth and Annie get married.

There’s something pretty inspiring about watching young people get married. Seth and Annie were surrounded by friends and family, with nothing but dreams and excitement about what comes next. It made me a little nostalgic for when Miss Sheri and I were that age, starting our own adventure with absolutely no idea what we were doing. Come to think of it, that last part really hasn’t changed much.

We had a great time at the reception catching up with family members we’ve known for decades but haven’t seen in years. There’s something funny about trying to cram ten years of life into a 20-minute conversation. “Kids good? Still married? Everybody healthy? Great, we’re caught up.” It was genuinely nice seeing people we’ve shared so much history with and realizing how quickly all those years disappear once you’re together again.

It was especially nice catching up with Jason’s wife Amy after so many years and sharing such a special weekend with their family. One minute Jason and I were wrestling in high school, and somehow now his son is married. We had a wonderful time celebrating Seth and Annie, reconnecting with old friends, and eating my way through Iowa. Life moves fast. Weekends like this remind me to enjoy the ride.

@toddswank The entrance of the wedding party for Seth and Annie Davis! #wedding #entrances ♬ original sound - 💚☠️ꀘ꒐𖦴𖦴ꌦ💀🖤

@toddswank I asked our Vegas Loop driver how we’d get out if the car got stuck. His answer involved a window breaker 😳 Then he explained when the door could open. Apparently “how do we escape?” isn’t in the welcome brochure. #VegasLoop #LasVegas #HyperLoop #TheBoringCompany #WindowBreaker ♬ original sound - Todd Swank

@toddswank I almost said no to night snorkeling with manta rays in Hawaii because all I could think about was sharks. My sister talked me into it—and I nearly missed the highlight of our trip. At one point, six manta rays were doing slow barrel rolls beneath us. One brushed my belly, and it tickled. 😳 Some of the best memories start with “absolutely not.” #MantaRays #NightSnorkeling #HawaiiTravel #OceanAdventure #FaceYourFears ♬ original sound - Todd Swank

Minnesota Summer Has Been Placed on Season-Ending IR

noreply@blogger.com (Todd Swank) — Mon, 21 Sep 2026 02:37:54 +0000

Minnesota Summer Has Been Placed on Season-Ending IR

Todd Swank's Diary Entry for September 20, 2026

Somehow we’ve already burned through two-thirds of September, which means Minnesota summer is basically standing at the door with its coat on. I’m not ready. I don’t want winter. I don’t even want to discuss winter. We’ve been lucky to fill these past few weeks with trips, games, boat rides, dinners, and time with some pretty amazing friends. Summer may be disappearing way too fast, but at least we can now begin the long Minnesota tradition of pretending 45 degrees is still nice out.

We were supposed to take Orlando and Nancy out on the boat, but apparently Prior Lake had reached its legal limit for middle-aged people pretending they still know how to party, so we went to Charlie’s instead. Over dinner and a few drinks, we did what good friends do: laughed at old stories, created some new ones, and once again solved most of the world’s problems. None of our solutions will ever be implemented, of course, but maybe that’s not the point. Maybe the real win is having people you still want to sit around a table with while the years keep moving faster.

We did manage to squeeze in another night on Prior Lake when our good friends Troy and Rhonda Brown invited us out on their brand-new boat. It’s a beautiful ride, which was great right up until I started mentally comparing it to mine and discovering several new things I apparently “need.” Mostly, though, it was another perfect Minnesota evening on the water with good friends, good conversation, and the kind of night that reminds you why we put up with this place the rest of the year.

Troy and Rhonda’s new boat has enough room that we could invite the kids along too, which is a nice change. My boat technically holds eight, but once you get past six, it stops feeling like a boat and starts feeling like somebody accidentally launched a crowded elevator. We love having the kids with us. We just also enjoy being able to turn around.

I had the chance to sneak down to Clear Lake for one night and met Krazy Kory for dinner at Prime N Wine in Mason City, a place we’ve been going to since it was the Back 40 back in the ’80s. Back then we had more hair, worse clothes, and somehow thought acid-washed jeans were a good idea. We were also considerably rowdier, which I’m pretty sure is still in there somewhere. Give us the right song, the wrong idea, and about 20 minutes, and I think we could find it again.

I finally made it back to Jason Alexander’s annual Cabin Classic after missing the last few years. The crowd was a little smaller this time, but it was great catching up with the guys who made it. Since I officially retired from golf earlier this summer, I graciously spared everyone the experience of watching me turn a perfectly good golf course into a crime scene. Instead, I saved my competitive energy for poker that night, where at least when I make a terrible decision, I don’t have to go looking for it in the woods.

That Sunday was the Vikings’ home opener, and we were fired up to watch them kick off the season against our most hated opponent, the Green Bay Packers. Even better, we were finally going to see our brand-new quarterback, Kyler Murray, make his Vikings debut. After an offseason of speculation, optimism, and the usual Minnesota ritual of convincing ourselves this time will be different, the moment had arrived. We just didn’t realize how brief that moment was going to be.

Miss Sheri splits our Vikings tickets with Luke and Avery, and every year they hold a draft to decide who gets which games. Packers is usually the first pick, so this was Sheri’s first chance to see them in a couple of seasons. That’s probably for the best. She loves the Vikings, but she loves screaming obscenities at the Packers almost as much. There are young children sitting around us, and I think exposure to that version of Miss Sheri should probably be limited to once every two or three years.

The game was every bit as incredible as we hoped, although watching Kyler Murray leave with an injury was definitely not part of the plan. Carson Wentz stepped in and somehow turned the afternoon into an amazing Vikings win, then followed it up today by beating the Bears in Chicago. Two games in, Minnesota is now the only undefeated team in the NFC North, so I think we can safely stop pretending to be reasonable. The Super Bowl is inevitable, the parade route is basically set, and I see absolutely no historical reason for Vikings fans to temper our expectations.

Miss Sheri’s college friend Robin was in town from Hawaii, so she and their friend Cathy spent the day catching up and eventually wandered through the aquarium at Mall of America. I haven’t been there in decades, but judging from the pictures, not much has changed. The sharks are still sharks, the turtles are still turtles, and the jellyfish are still floating around accomplishing nothing. Apparently the only thing that has evolved significantly over the years is the price of admission.

Us fellows joined them for dinner, and the night quickly turned into one of those tables where everybody is laughing loud enough that the people around us probably assumed alcohol was doing more of the work than it actually was. We don’t get to see Robin nearly enough living all the way in Hawaii, so when she’s back in town we try to squeeze every possible laugh out of the time we get. Distance makes friendships harder, but apparently not quieter.

To get even further into the autumn spirit, we headed to Timberwolves HQ for Rookie Training Camp. Since the Wolves are obviously going to win the NBA championship this season, we figured it was financially responsible to lock in a half-season membership before the rest of Minnesota catches on. The event was basically orientation for new members, where they walked us through all the benefits, perks, and important details we’ll need to know when we’re attending playoff games well into June.

Walking through the hallowed halls of Timberwolves HQ, we came across this photo from the night Kevin Garnett was drafted in 1995. It felt especially fitting knowing the Wolves will finally retire KG’s jersey this season. For a generation of fans, he wasn’t just the best player on the team. He was the identity of the franchise, the guy who made Minnesota basketball matter. Anthony Edwards may someday take that crown, but KG will always be the guy who built the throne.

The event ended with a walk through the Lynx practice facility, which was pretty cool. On the other side of a curtain was the Timberwolves practice court, and naturally that area was treated like we were trying to enter a nuclear launch facility. We tried sneaking a peek, but they had staff guarding both sides to make sure nobody accidentally witnessed an NBA player dribble a basketball. Apparently some secrets are just too dangerous for the general public. So we left without compromising national security and officially began a new season as Timberwolves members. If they win the championship, I assume we deserve at least partial credit.

What Happens in Vegas Goes on ToddSwank.com

noreply@blogger.com (Todd Swank) — Tue, 15 Sep 2026 03:21:28 +0000

What Happens in Vegas Goes on ToddSwank.com

Todd Swank's Diary Entry for September 14, 2026

Miss Sheri and I spent Labor Day weekend in Las Vegas, where The Venetian comped our room because apparently I’ve proven I’m bad enough at gambling to be considered a valued customer. I continued proving them right, but fortunately Vegas has plenty to do besides handing casinos your money. So we spent three days eating too much, seeing ridiculous shows, wandering Sin City and pretending we still had the energy of people half our age.

We love Cirque du Soleil, but somehow we’d never seen KÀ. Within minutes, our brains were scrambled. The theater looks like someone gave a billionaire a blank check and said, “Build a place where gravity can go screw itself.” Massive stages flew in and out of view, tilted nearly vertical, and became battlefields for performers climbing, flipping and dropping into what looked like a bottomless abyss. We kept looking at each other like, “How in the hell are they doing this?” And somehow, it got even crazier from there…

Then came something called the Wheel of Death, which feels like a pretty honest name for what you’re looking at. It’s basically a giant hamster wheel built by people who thought the original hamster wheel needed more ways to die. Performers ran inside the cages, climbed on the outside and kept pushing the whole contraption faster. I just kept wondering which one of these guys saw this thing for the first time and said, “Yeah, I’ll run on the outside of that.”

The next day we were off to see The Wizard of Oz at Sphere, although staying at The Venetian made it pretty hard to forget. Their lobby had so much Oz stuff everywhere that I half expected Miss Sheri to click her heels, chase me down the yellow brick road and yell, “Pick up the pace, Tin Man. We’re off to see the Wizard.”

Sphere somehow takes a movie from 1939 and makes it feel like it was designed for 2026. The film has been reworked with AI and visual effects to fill Sphere’s enormous 160,000-square-foot, 16K screen, with sound coming from more than 167,000 speakers surrounding the audience. More than 3.6 million people have already made the trip to Oz, and after seeing it ourselves, I completely understand why. We really enjoyed the whole experience, but the tornado scene was absolutely insane. It wasn’t just the movie swallowing your entire field of vision. Wind machines started blasting, smoke rolled through the theater, fake leaves went flying past us, and simulated lightning and thunder crashed all around the room. For a few minutes, it stopped feeling like we were watching Dorothy’s nightmare and started feeling like we had somehow gotten trapped inside it.

We also spent plenty of time just wandering the Strip, where apparently Las Vegas still hasn’t run out of ways to say, “Yeah, but what if we made it bigger?” Across from The Venetian, Hard Rock is building a 660-foot, 42-story hotel shaped like a giant guitar that will completely change the skyline when it opens. It already looks enormous, and they’re nowhere near done. Somewhere, a rock star is looking at that thing and thinking, “I’m gonna need a much bigger stage.”

One of my favorite things about Vegas is that everywhere you turn there’s something new to see, wander through or accidentally spend money on. It’s like taking a tour through a giant Willy Wonka factory, except the Oompa Loompas are drunk tourists in matching bachelor-party shirts and the chocolate river has a two-drink minimum.

We walked somewhere around five miles a day, which is a lot when my back starts sending strongly worded emails after mile two. Miss Sheri, meanwhile, is always ready to keep going while I’m the one whining that I’m tired, sore, or about to pass out from the desert heat. She’s a great travel partner because somehow none of that seems to discourage her from bringing me along anyway.

We made a special effort to catch the Bellagio fountains at night, because no matter how many times you see them, they’re still pretty damn impressive. Somehow somebody looked at the middle of the Mojave Desert and thought, “You know what would really tie this place together? A 22-million-gallon lake with fountains shooting water 460 feet into the air.” Completely ridiculous. Totally unnecessary. And I’m very glad they did it.

One of the strangest things we did was ride through Elon Musk’s Vegas Loop, basically a network of Teslas driving through tunnels bored underneath the city. Las Vegas is the first real proving ground for the idea, and right now it’s still pretty limited, but the approved plan eventually calls for about 68 miles of tunnels and more than 100 stations around the Strip and downtown. I thought the whole thing was incredibly cool, although the tiny tunnel definitely triggered my claustrophobia. Our driver didn’t help when he casually explained that if the car ever got stuck, the tunnel is too narrow to open the doors—but not to worry, because he had a tool to smash the windshield so we could crawl out. Thanks. I was feeling much better before you explained the escape plan.

And since this was Sin City, we figured our last night needed at least a little actual sin. We saw Atomic Saloon Show at The Venetian, an adults-only Wild West circus staged inside a real saloon where the performers are basically right on top of you. It’s only about 200 seats, which makes the whole thing feel wonderfully unhinged. The show was raunchy, sexy, funny and dangerous enough that every few minutes I found myself thinking, “There’s no way that’s part of the plan.” We absolutely loved it.

Dodging Humanity at the 2026 Minnesota State Fair

noreply@blogger.com (Todd Swank) — Sun, 30 Aug 2026 22:47:09 +0000

Dodging Humanity at the 2026 Minnesota State Fair

Todd Swank's Diary Entry for August 30, 2026

Friday night was fantasy football draft night at Steve “Cuds” Cuddihy’s house, and nobody commits to commissioner duties quite like Cuds. Every year he adds something new, and this time he designed new custom team logos and personalized our seats. Mine even featured a reminder of my glorious 2024 championship. Last year did not go nearly as well, but I had a feeling 2026 was going to restore the Crippled Monkeys to their rightful place on top.

Our auction-style draft takes more than three hours, which gives a room full of highly competitive adults plenty of time to overthink every bid and mess with each other’s heads. Half the strategy is knowing player values; the other half is convincing everyone else they’re making terrible decisions. Political correctness tends to fade as the night goes on, and the steadily flowing beverages don’t exactly improve anyone’s judgment.

I’ve been playing in this league for 20 years now, along with several of these guys who were there from the beginning. I’m glad Luke joined us a few years ago, even if he seems to get extra joy from outbidding his dad. This year I skipped most of the big-name spending and built a deeper roster than I usually do. Whether that was brilliant strategy or three hours of bad decisions remains to be seen. Either way, let’s go! Are you ready for some football?

Saturday we joined 198,841 of our closest friends at the Minnesota State Fair, where the basic plan is to eat things we’d never consider putting in our bodies anywhere else, get bumped into by strangers every 30 seconds, and somehow keep discovering sights that make you stop and say, “What the hell is that?” We love the whole ridiculous spectacle. The DNR fish pond is always one of my favorite stops. Apparently, I’m much more comfortable in a crowd when most of it is underwater.

Usually we snooker the boys into joining us or rope some friends into the adventure, but this year it was just my best girl and me. Luckily, Miss Sheri and I have very similar State Fair priorities: critters doing tricks, fried food on sticks, people-watching, wandering into buildings we’ve ignored for 20 years, and occasionally paying $14 for something we’d never buy anywhere else. Turns out we make a pretty good two-person fair team.

We got there early and made the Stunt Dog competition one of our first stops. Between dock diving and funky tricks, these dogs were ridiculous athletes. A few of them could launch themselves more than 23 feet just because somebody threw a stuffed toy. I’ve spent 56 years being offered money, praise, food and basic human approval, and I’m not sure any of it has ever motivated me to move that aggressively.

Another must-stop for us is the butter carving chamber in the Dairy Building, where Princess Kay candidates take turns having their heads sculpted while the poor artist spends hours trapped in a refrigerator. Miss Sheri and I debated what happens to all the leftover butter. I guessed it goes to the corn-on-the-cob booth, but they probably scrape all the facial shavings into a giant bucket labeled “Premium Fair Butter” and keep it around for emergency lubrication when somebody gets jammed halfway down the Giant Slide.

This year I read that Ye Old Mill is the oldest ride at the Minnesota State Fair, which immediately raised an uncomfortable question: how have we been coming here for more than 30 years and never even noticed it? Apparently we’ve spent decades walking right past a piece of Minnesota history because somebody nearby was selling something deep-fried. That feels about right.

Turns out we hadn’t been missing much. Ye Old Mill is basically It’s a Small World without the visuals. Most of the ride is so dark you can’t see your hand in front of your face, interrupted only by the occasional character that looks hand-drawn by a kindergarten class and mounted with Popsicle sticks. The darkness was actually pretty creepy, especially when the boat seemed ready to get stuck a couple times. For $5 each, I’m glad we finally did it. I’m also pretty sure we’re good for the next 30 years.

This year the Science Museum of Minnesota brought Ultimate Dinosaurs to the Fair, featuring 15 full skeleton casts, real fossils and some bizarre prehistoric creatures from the Southern Hemisphere. It was cool, although I’ve seen plenty of dinosaur exhibits by now. What makes them fun again is taking pictures with my phone and using AI to bring them to life, usually resulting in a brief Jurassic Park incident where nearby children become part of the food chain. Technology really has improved museums.

Our favorite booth of the day was visiting our euchre buddy Eric Pratt, who’s running for US Congress. I was excited to see him and immediately asked for a picture. Eric agreed, but only if we put “the pretty one in the middle.” For one glorious second, I thought he meant me. Then Miss Sheri stepped into position and reality came crashing back. Politics can be brutal.

Big week for the Minnesota Timberwolves!

@toddswank 🚨🐺 JONATHAN KUMINGA IS A MINNESOTA TIMBERWOLF!! Two years. $13 million. And Shams says he’s STARTING. AWOOOOOO! 🐺🔥 #Timberwolves #JonathanKuminga #NBA ♬ original sound - kivxr

The Twins, Vikings, & the Birthday Girl Who Outshined Them Both

noreply@blogger.com (Todd Swank) — Mon, 24 Aug 2026 01:34:27 +0000

The Twins, Vikings, & the Birthday Girl Who Outshined Them Both

Todd Swank's Diary Entry for August 23, 2026

Miss Sheri’s birthday week began Monday at Target Field with the boys and Abby, watching the Twins take on the Atlanta Braves. Abby is a Georgia girl and Braves fan, so for once we found ourselves on opposite sides of a fierce family rivalry. “Fierce” may be overstating it. None of us cares enough about baseball to let nine innings damage a perfectly good relationship. Our cheering was mostly polite acknowledgment that something had happened.

After a 45-minute rain delay, Luke Keaschall came out in his first leadoff at-bat of the year and promptly doubled down the line to start a four-run Twins first inning. That turned out to be all the scoring they needed. We left after six innings, but the Twins held on for a 4–2 win, even if we were not there to see the ending. Still, a fun night with the birthday girl.

Miss Sheri’s actual birthday arrived Wednesday, so we met Luke, Avery and Grandma Linda at Olive Garden for a proper family celebration. Somehow, for the first time in recorded Swank history, we forgot to take a family picture until we were walking out the door. Grandma Linda was in the potty and missed it. Still, she was there for the food, the birthday wishes and, presumably, the important stuff.

Fantasy football season is nearly here, so I met Steve “Cuds” Cuddihy for lunch and finally turned over the trophy I won two years ago. Steve became last year’s champion—for the first time in our league’s 20-year history—so I suppose he earned at least a few months with it. But next week’s draft starts the annual campaign to bring it home where it belongs.

Friday night, we had dinner with our good friends Doc and Portia Vogt before taking their boat out on Spring Lake. It was a beautiful night, made even better by the kind of spirited debates we always seem to have—covering everything from the important issues of the day to the things that make us laugh. The lake stayed calm. Our conversation did not.

As we cruised along, Mike spotted what looked like a seagull struggling to pull a huge fish from the lake. After watching awhile, he realized the bird was tangled in fishing line, with a large lure hooked in several places. So he jumped in, swam over and spent 10 minutes carefully freeing it. The seagull flew away looking ready for a full recovery. I was genuinely impressed. Every boat needs a guy who notices trouble—and is willing to jump in to fix it.

Saturday brought the Vikings’ first—and only—preseason home game against the Baltimore Ravens. It was such a beautiful day that U.S. Bank Stadium had the big doors open, briefly making it feel like Minnesota had built the world’s most expensive patio. Preseason football still mostly sucks, but it serves its purpose: the real games are only a couple weeks away, and for now every Vikings fan gets to believe this might finally be our year.

I got to spend the afternoon with my best girl, who debuted her new Andrew Van Ginkel jersey in style. None of the starters played, and most of the guys on the field may be packing their lockers in a couple weeks, but that did not stop us from delivering a full-throated SKOL chant and screaming our support. Vikings football is back, even when the Vikings are technically still auditioning.

Kyler Murray had been named the Week 1 starter a couple weeks earlier, so he spent this one in street clothes. That left us eager to see J.J. McCarthy, Carson Wentz and Max Brosmer. Quarterback was a genuine problem for the Vikings last year, and this might have been J.J.’s only chance to play at home all season. No pressure, kid—just an entire stadium trying to decide whether to believe again.

Unfortunately, it was not the J.J. McCarthy comeback performance we were hoping for. He uncorked a beautiful deep pass to Tai Felton, then missed Myles Price wide open in the end zone for what should have been an easy touchdown. He finished 5-for-10 before getting banged up again after just 18 snaps. We have seen this movie before, and Vikings fans are starting to wonder whether the sequel gets any better.

The 13–3 loss was ugly on offense, but the defense showed enough promise to keep the preseason optimism machine humming. The jury is still out on whether these Vikings will be any good this year, which is exactly where Vikings fans like it: equal parts hopeful, skeptical and irrationally ready to SKOL at full volume. The regular season cannot get here soon enough.

Sunday brought the final formal celebration of Miss Sheri’s birthday week: meeting the boys at the Launch Pad to whack some golf balls. Technically, it is just a driving range, which makes it perfectly suited to my golf retirement. My swing has not improved one bit since I quit the game, but I had fun, nobody had to hunt for a ball in the woods, and we got another afternoon together. That is a birthday party I can handle.

@toddswank JJ McCarthy had Myles Price WIDE OPEN for six… but apparently he tried to throw the football through him. 😂🔥 So close to a Vikings TD! #JJMcCarthy #MinnesotaVikings #SKOL ♬ Mind Blank - OTE

@toddswank 👀 COMING SOON… THE ALL-NEW MYSTIC LAKE 🎰✨ Opening night is going to look a little different. #MysticLake #MysticNext #Minnesota #comingsoon ♬ night vibe - skyfall beats

@toddswank We get albino squirrels in our yard quite frequently and I don’t know why. #nature #albinosquirrel #squirrels ♬ original sound - Todd Swank

Holding On Loosely to What’s Left of Summer

noreply@blogger.com (Todd Swank) — Mon, 17 Aug 2026 01:47:09 +0000

Holding On Loosely to What’s Left of Summer

Todd Swank's Diary Entry for August 16, 2026

Longtime readers may remember our strange history with albino squirrels. I’d never seen one until Luke and Avery were born, then they started appearing in our yard. We moved to another city and somehow they found us there too. For more than 25 years they’ve had a habit of showing up during stressful times, so we came to think of them as our little furry guardian angels. We hadn’t seen one at our house in years, until Miss Sheri spotted this guy on our back porch. I don’t pretend to know what the universe is trying to tell us, but I’m very happy it remembered our address.

I’d never been to Ohio before, but crossed that one off the list this week when work sent me to Columbus for a couple nights. Urban Meyer’s Pint House was right down the street from my hotel, so naturally I stopped in for supper. Meyer won a national championship at Ohio State, which I’m pretty sure means Columbus city code requires his name to appear on at least one building every three blocks. I had dinner there and briefly considered myself part of Buckeye Nation. Then I came to my senses.

We had dinner with several of the fine folks from Worthington Steel at Z Cucina, where I learned their CIO once pitched for the Cleveland Indians. Naturally, I geeked out and peppered him with questions. He appeared in 35 games and talked about striking out several future Hall of Famers, memories he still ranks among the best from that chapter of his life. I loved hearing the stories. Very few people ever get to stand on a Major League mound, let alone make legends swing and miss.

I flew home Friday, put in a regular workday, then Miss Sheri and I headed north to spend the weekend with our good friends Ron and Sue Korkowski. They’re always incredibly generous hosts, which means great food, plenty of laughs, and board games taken far too seriously. Luke came up just for Friday night and spent much of it giving me grief because I apparently lack the advanced motor skills required to roll two dice and keep both of them on the table.

It was rainy and muggy most of the weekend, so we stayed inside until deciding Riley the dog and Karl the cat needed some fresh air. I’d never walked a cat before and quickly learned it’s less “walking” and more “negotiating with a small furry sovereign nation.” Grace was primarily responsible for convincing Karl that the group had, in fact, chosen a direction. He had his own opinions about pace and participation, but stuck with us most of the way. Good kitty. Strong opinions.

Saturday night we headed to The Ledge Amphitheater in Waite Park for an outdoor concert, with the bonus of riding a school bus there. Sue decided we belonged in the back with the troublemakers and announced we were going to cause problems. The bus driver, completely serious, said, “Please don’t.” I loved that he seemed genuinely concerned, like Sue had a history of launching rocks out school bus windows.

The Ledge turned out to be one of the coolest concert venues I’ve seen. It’s built into an old granite quarry, with huge rock formations, water-filled pits and fountains surrounding the amphitheater. The whole place feels carved out of the landscape instead of dropped on top of it. It was just a really cool place to sit outside on a summer night and listen to some good music.

We kept one eye on the stage and the other on the radar because storms had been threatening us all day, and we have a long, distinguished history of getting absolutely drenched at outdoor concerts. The sky spit at us a little early, but then the clouds moved on and left behind one of those perfect summer evenings that makes you forget how close you came to sitting in wet underwear for three hours.

I’ve listened to Chris Hawkey on KFAN for years and have seen his band a few times. I don’t know a lot of his songs, but I’ve always liked the positive message behind them. His new song “Hard Things” is basically about getting off your ass, pushing through the rough stuff and doing something with your life, which is a message I can get behind. He and the band did a great job warming up the crowd for 38 Special.

38 Special was the perfect soundtrack to close out the weekend. Songs like “Caught Up in You” and “Hold On Loosely” took me straight back to roller rinks, high school dances and a version of myself with more hair and fewer orthopedic concerns. Funny how a song can collapse 40 years in about three minutes. We sang, laughed, remembered a few things we’d forgotten, and squeezed another great night out of a summer that’s disappearing way too fast.

The Minnesota Vikings Put Me on the Field. This Seems Like Poor Judgment.

noreply@blogger.com (Todd Swank) — Mon, 10 Aug 2026 01:40:40 +0000

The Minnesota Vikings Put Me on the Field.

This Seems Like Poor Judgment.

Todd Swank's Diary Entry for August 9, 2026

Hard to believe it’s already football season, but apparently time doesn’t care what I think. So on Saturday, we headed to Eagan and the Twin Cities Orthopedics Performance Center to investigate. We had a pretty good idea what we’d find there, but we definitely didn’t know where the day was going to take us.

Of course, we were there for Minnesota Vikings Training Camp, our annual ritual to get a sneak peek at the returning veterans and new additions who will own our emotions for the next several months. Every August, hope is undefeated, the roster looks loaded, and this absolutely feels like the year they finally make the Super Bowl run they so richly deserve. Please don’t check back with me in January.

We’ve been Vikings season ticket holders for several years now, and I have to admit they take pretty good care of us. Four free training camp tickets, a couple free drinks, an air-conditioned room to escape the heat, and even an autographed player photo. Granted, it was a player who may not still be on an NFL roster by October, but I’m choosing to call it a collectible.

They even gave us four free passes to the Vikings Museum, which is pretty cool, although this was our fourth trip and shockingly the exhibits haven’t changed much. Minneapolis Miracle? Still miraculous. Purple People Eaters? Still purple. Moss, Peterson, Tarkenton? Still legends. And that giant Super Bowl trophy display I keep expecting to see? Still apparently under construction. I’m starting to think they may be waiting for us to actually win one before building it.

Luke, Avery, and Abby joined us for the day, which felt like a minor miracle all by itself. Getting all three of them free on the same Saturday isn’t easy anymore, so naturally I’m taking it as a sign. If the universe can pull that off, surely the Vikings can finally figure out the Super Bowl thing.

Then came the coolest surprise of the day. While checking in, I ran into someone I knew from the Vikings organization from our London trip. As we were talking, one of his colleagues suddenly asked, “Hey, how would you guys like to go on the field before practice and lead the SKOL chant?” I believe I said yes before he finished the sentence. Stand on the field in front of the whole crowd, throw my arms in the air, and scream SKOL at the top of my lungs? You had me at SKOL.

I’d love to say our SKOL chant shook the entire place, but honestly it was kind of a bust. We were off to the side with no microphone, so most of the crowd seemed to have no idea we were even doing it. By the end, maybe a quarter of them were following along. Not exactly the roar I had pictured in my head. Still, getting to stand on that field for a while was pretty damn cool.

Part of the fantasy of getting on the field is hoping somebody in the organization notices you and says, “Hey, we could use that guy.” I mean, look at these dudes. Big, strong, athletic... sure. But I feel like I could hang with them for a while. Maybe not physically, but conversationally I’d be a huge locker-room asset.

Pretty soon it was time to head back to our seats and let the actual football players have the field, which was probably best for everyone. I loved watching our favorites get ready for battle, especially Justin Jefferson. The guy just moves differently than everybody else. Even at practice, he somehow makes running around in 85-degree heat look ridiculously cool.

Of course, all the buzz surrounds the quarterback battle. Who’s going to win the job between Kyler Murray and J.J. McCarthy? I was hoping watching them go head-to-head in practice would give me some insider clarity. After carefully studying both of them for several minutes, I can confidently report that I still have absolutely no idea.

J.J. McCarthy has been a frustrating watch the past couple years, mostly because he’s spent so much time injured. We’ve seen flashes where he looks like a real NFL quarterback, and plenty of others where he looks like he just wandered into the huddle by accident. So I’ll admit I was pretty happy when the Vikings announced they were bringing in some real competition at the position this year.

The knock on Kyler Murray has always been his size, and seeing him on the field next to the other guys really drives it home. It’s like somebody’s little brother wandered into the team photo and then refused to leave. But I watched him with Arizona and remember plenty of great stretches. He’s quick, dangerous with his feet, and can absolutely sling it. Put that behind this offense and I’m pretty excited to see what happens.

I have faith in the “Quarterback Whisperer” Kevin O’Connell. Whoever he picks to lead this team Week 1, I’m convinced the Vikings are going to surprise a lot of people this year. Of course, I say some version of that every August, then spend January explaining why next year will be different. But this year really will be different. I can feel it. Which is exactly what worries me.

@toddswank Vikings Training Camp - August 8, 2026 #minnesota #vikings #trainingcamp ♬ original sound - Soul of Afrika

@toddswank Justin Jefferson is loading up for 2026! #minnesota #vikings #justinjefferson ♬ som original - DJ Monster

@toddswank Minnesota Vikings Trainig Camp 2026 #vikings #trainingcamp #nfl ♬ sonido original - Grandes Exitos

Spending the Afternoon with Caitlin Clark

noreply@blogger.com (Todd Swank) — Mon, 03 Aug 2026 02:43:57 +0000

Spending the Afternoon with Caitlin Clark

Todd Swank's Diary Entry for August 2, 2026

Thursday night, Sue and Ron Korkowski finally joined us for a cruise around Prior Lake. We had planned it two weeks earlier, but smoke from the Minnesota and Canadian forest fires turned the sky into something that looked better suited for a dystopian movie than a boat ride. This time the air was clear, the lake was calm, and we were ready to cruise like four people who had personally defeated Canada.

We used to take friends boating to kneeboard, tube, and see who could injure themselves first. These days we cruise slowly, watch birds, and admire the beautiful homes along the lake. The strange part is, nobody ever seems to be outside. Maybe once your house gets that nice, you’re too busy working to spend much time there.

We cruise around stalking egrets, blue herons, and cormorants, pretending each one is a rare discovery instead of a bird we’ve seen a thousand times. Loons and bald eagles are the real celebrities, but neither showed up that night. So we followed this cormorant around like wildlife paparazzi. We may have seen him a hundred times before, but on this particular evening, he was magnificent.

For years, I’ve steered past this concrete mystery at the entrance to Candy Cove without knowing what it was. I finally did something brilliant and asked ChatGPT. Turns out it’s the remains of the old Candy Cove Dam, built in 1942 to protect Prior Lake’s water level because the cove’s porous bottom was apparently leaking the lake underground. Eighty-four years later, I solved the mystery without leaving the boat. Technology has finally justified itself.

There was a time I’d never miss the chance to jump off the boat, float with friends, and enjoy nature’s most convenient restroom. Now I weigh that against hauling myself up the tiny ladder and driving home with a wet swimsuit welded to my crotch. This night, the dry crotch won. Miss Sheri and Sue jumped in and apparently had a blast, while I stayed aboard feeling old, comfortable, and completely justified.

Saturday brought us back to the St. Croix River for another afternoon of sun, drinks, and questionable decisions aboard the Zitzewitz boat. We packed in friends, family, and enough personalities to make every seat feel like its own little reality show. No real agenda beyond cruising, laughing, and proving once again that nearly everything is more fun when somebody else owns the boat.

We joined the Zitzewitzes on the river last Saturday too, but Avery and Abby already had plans and missed it. Karl and Tina were kind enough to invite us back again so the kids could join the fun. That meant another afternoon on the St. Croix, more floating, and absolutely no complaints from us about doing it again.

Best of all, Aaron joined us for the day. It had been years since we’d shared a day of sun and fun with him, and he’s actually the reason we met the Zitzewitz family nearly 20 years ago through Cub Scouts. The boys spent the afternoon reliving old scouting stories, including the weekend we crawled through Eagle Cave among stalagmites, stalactites, and live bats. Apparently childhood trauma becomes comedy once everyone survives it.

It was much windier than the weekend before, so floating became a full-contact sport. We spent most of the time clutching the rope while the current swung us around and shoved us into waves big enough to slap the relaxation right out of us. It felt like tubing behind the boat, except the boat was parked and nobody had signed a waiver. Good times, assuming your definition of fun includes fighting a river for custody of your inflatable.

I told Karl and Tina that Facebook had recently reminded me how many couple photos I took of them over the years, so naturally we needed an updated version. Somehow they’re even cuter now, which is annoying because most of us are just trying to keep our faces from sliding off. Apparently marriage works when you combine love, laughter, and a boat large enough to escape each other occasionally.

Sunday brought us to Target Center for a WNBA showdown between the hometown Minnesota Lynx and Indiana Fever. Minnesota had won nine straight, Indiana five, and both were among the league’s best teams, so we knew we were in for a great matchup.

The whole thing was Krazy Kory’s idea, but he had to back out a few days before the game, so Miss Sheri and I went without him. We ended up in the front row of the upper-deck corner, which I was pretty happy about considering Target Center looked nearly sold out and my official Lynx status is somewhere between “occasional customer” and “who let this guy in?”

Of course, one of the biggest draws was getting to watch Caitlin Clark play again. She’s been Miss Sheri’s favorite player since about her sophomore year at Iowa, partly because Caitlin is an Iowa girl and Miss Sheri grew up there playing basketball through high school. This was probably our fourth or fifth time seeing her in person, so at this point I’m surprised Caitlin doesn’t at least wave.

The Lynx were plenty of a draw on their own, entering the game with the WNBA’s best record and rookie Olivia Miles looking like anything but a rookie. She poured in 28 points, including 14 in the second quarter, and ran the offense with the confidence of someone who clearly skipped the part where first-year players are supposed to look nervous. Caitlin may have brought the crowd, but Olivia made sure everyone learned her name.

Sophie Cunningham has been another of our favorite players the past couple years, but she recently made some comments suggesting boys and girls should probably stick to their own teams, and that went over in Minnesota about as smoothly as wearing a Packers jersey to a Vikings tailgate. Lynx fans booed her every time she touched the ball, which felt less like basketball and more like 16,000 people leaving the same angry voicemail. We still like Sophie, but apparently her newest advanced statistic is boos per touch.

Caitlin and her friends played tough, erasing a 14-point fourth-quarter deficit and pulling within two before the Lynx finally slammed the door, 108-100. Clark finished with 19 points and 10 assists, while Olivia Miles scored 28 and Courtney Williams added 27 as Minnesota won its 10th straight. Great game, great crowd, and proof that spending an afternoon with Caitlin is fun even when she barely acknowledges we’re there.

Somewhere Between Boating and Loitering on the St. Croix River

noreply@blogger.com (Todd Swank) — Mon, 27 Jul 2026 01:44:07 +0000

Somewhere Between Boating and Loitering on the St. Croix River

Todd Swank's Diary Entry for July 26, 2026

We celebrated my 56th birthday on Sunday night at the Porterhouse in Lakeville. Getting older sucks, but at least it keeps giving me a legitimate excuse to eat steak and gather my favorite people on the planet around one table. I’ll gladly take the extra year when it comes with a night like this.

My actual birthday was Monday, and since we’ve been pretty active lately, I decided I wanted a quieter night. So Luke, Miss Sheri, and I went to play bingo at Mystic Lake Casino. Luke and I got free bingo packs for our birthday month, which sounded generous right up until none of us won squat. You’d think the birthday boy might get one pity victory, but Mystic has apparently decided character-building is cheaper than prize money.

On our family chat, my sister called me “Ernie” on my birthday, a name I hadn’t heard in a long time. It started in elementary school in Mason City when Mom bought me an Ernie football shirt. I cried because I thought it made me look like a baby and refused to wear it anywhere. Eventually I gave in, including at J4 Rollermania, where third-grade Todd was a roller-skating fiend. After that, kids and plenty of adults called me Ernie for years. My brother-in-law recreated the shirt, and it was disturbingly accurate. Thanks for the shirt, Mom, and for teaching me that if I’m going to look like a baby, then I need to own that shit.

Saturday brought us to the St. Croix River for a ride on our good friends Karl and Tina Zitzewitz’s boat. I thought the cloudy morning might keep things cooler, but apparently the clouds were just there to trap the humidity and turn the whole river into a sauna. Luckily, unlike most saunas, this one came with a giant body of water we could jump into whenever we started melting.

It was us, the Browns, and the Zitzewitzes with nothing major planned, which is usually when the best days happen. Just some fun in the sun, or at least the cloudy, humid version of it, along with good food, cold drinks, and even better conversation with people we genuinely enjoy. No agenda, no pressure, no reason to leave early. Just one of those simple days that quietly reminds you how lucky you are.

On the week I turned 56 years old, I was reminded that life gets better when you stop pretending every day needs to be productive. Sometimes the smartest thing you can do is find something strong enough to hold your weight, climb aboard, and float around with people who make you laugh. The river was warm, the drinks were cold, and nobody accomplished anything measurable. Moral of the story: aging may be unavoidable, but acting your age remains completely optional.

This guy was flipping around nearby and I thought it was pretty cool. I grabbed the camera and caught this impressive video of him doing 9 backflips in a row. I had Luke edit the video for me because that boy has a knack for it and in the past 24 hours it's had more than a half million views on TikTok.

And that plus $5 will buy me a coffee at McDonalds!

@toddswank Spin me right round baby! #flip #jetski #spin ♬ sonido original - L o n e l i n e s s 1 9 9 3

Rocking Hard & Sweating Harder at the 2026 Yacht Club Music Festival

noreply@blogger.com (Todd Swank) — Sun, 19 Jul 2026 23:56:19 +0000

Rocking Hard & Sweating Harder

at the 2026 Yacht Club Music Festival

Todd Swank's Diary Update for July 19, 2026

Monday night started the week with an adventure alongside some of the Oracle Minneapolis team and our friends at Apps Associates: an Al & Alma’s dinner cruise on Lake Minnetonka. I hadn’t been on one of their boats in probably 25 years, certainly not since the Vikings made them famous with the Love Boat scandal. Our trip was much more respectable, unless something happened after I went home that nobody has had the courage to tell me about.

Thursday night we were supposed to take Sue and Ron Korkowski for a boat ride, but we woke up under a thick blanket of smoke from the Canadian and Minnesota wildfires and briefly had some of the worst air on the planet. Naturally, it cleared up by the time we would’ve launched, but we’d already bailed and redirected to P.F. Chang’s in Maple Grove. Nothing says fearless outdoor adventure like gourmet Chinese in air conditioning.

Friday brought Miss Sheri and me to our second music festival in less than a week: the Minnesota Yacht Club Festival on Harriet Island in St. Paul. We probably wouldn’t have bought tickets had we known temperatures would hit the 90s with a heat index over 100. My concert hair hats usually turn my head into a tiny convection oven in normal temperatures, so this one had my skull baking like a Costco rotisserie chicken.

Despite the fancy name, Minnesota Yacht Club has very little to do with yachts and a whole lot to do with bringing arena-sized rock shows to Harriet Island. Launched in 2024 by C3 Presents, the team behind Lollapalooza, it expanded from two days to three after its first year. By 2026, its third summer, it featured 30 artists on two stages with no overlapping sets and about 35,000 people expected each night along the Mississippi River. Not bad for a club that never asked to see my boat.

We went with our good friends Joel and Jen, whom we hadn’t seen since their wedding in Destin, Florida. They’d attended Yacht Club the past couple of years, and after seeing their Facebook photos, Miss Sheri and I decided they were having entirely too much fun without us. So this year we crashed their party, because friendship is mostly about letting someone else discover the fun and then inviting yourself along.

We planted ourselves in the middle of the park so we could see both stages, although one definitely won the battle for better sound and sightlines. I didn’t recognize most of the bands or songs, so it felt like a full day of waiting for everyone’s one big hit. Then Marcy Playground played “Sex and Candy,” and I finally started grooving. At my age, that’s less a lifestyle than two separate things I’ve been forced to cut back on.

We lasted about five hours before the heat finally beat us and we bailed before the Lumineers. I was genuinely disappointed I didn’t get to yell “Ho! Hey!” with 30,000 sweaty strangers, but that regret disappeared the second we reached the car and the air conditioning hit us. Turns out my favorite headliner was a Kia Telluride set to 68 degrees.

Saturday night I took Miss Sheri downtown Minneapolis to the Orpheum for something wicked. Unfortunately for her, I meant the musical. Neither of us had seen the stage version before, although we’d both seen the movies, so I was ready for a little Glinda vs. Elphaba action. Nothing spices up date night like witches, betrayal, flying monkeys, and a couple thousand people silently judging which witch deserves the better song.

Once the curtain went up, it was easy to see how Wicked has attracted more than 70 million people, earned over $6 billion, and collected 100-plus awards across 16 countries. That isn’t a musical résumé; it’s a hostile takeover of theater. Between the massive sets, costumes, flying monkeys and powerhouse witches, the hype suddenly made perfect sense. Wicked really was wicked.

Quite honestly, I really liked it. Like most musicals, I would’ve preferred a little less singing and a little more dialogue, but the story was excellent. I grew up fascinated by The Wizard of Oz, and Wicked fits beautifully alongside it while giving everyone’s motives a clever new spin. Highly recommended for anyone who, like me, has a 14-year-old girl trapped inside just waiting to be inspired.

@toddswank 20 minutes until I get to see Wicked for the first time! #wicked #theater #emeraldcity ♬ original sound - Todd Swank

Rocking Like the ’80s Still Rule at the 2026 Lakefront Music Fest

noreply@blogger.com (Todd Swank) — Mon, 13 Jul 2026 01:55:55 +0000

Rocking Like the ’80s Still Rule at the 2026 Lakefront Music Fest

Todd Swank's Diary Entry for July 12, 2026

Our summer has been packed, and somehow even our nights off turn social. While wandering Costco, we ran into Randy and Cindy Schoen, who lived near my sister about 20 years ago. We’d lost touch, but they’re the kind of people who make it feel like no time has passed. A few minutes catching up in the spice aisle turned into one of those unexpected little reminders that good people never really feel far away.

It was Avery’s turn for a Mayo Clinic checkup. He only has to go every two or three years, but it’s always great seeing Dr. Johnson, the boys’ cardiologist and someone we’ve come to know well over the past decade. Avery’s checkup went well and he doesn't need to come back soon. That’s exactly the kind of visit we like: catch up with a good man and say, “See you in a few years.”

Our rocking week of the ’80s started Wednesday night at Rhythm on the Rails in downtown Shakopee, a free summer concert series with live music, food, drinks, games, and a street full of people enjoying the night. Def Leggend brought the Def Leppard hits, and for a few hours Lewis Street felt less like Shakopee and more like 1987 with better beer options.

Tom and Kellie Wolf are usually our Rhythm on the Rails partners. We share the same taste in classic rock and the same desire to sit off to the side so the speakers don’t finish off whatever hearing we have left. We always have a great time together, even if getting Tom to actually look at the camera remains one of Shakopee’s tougher summer challenges.

Thursday night, the Browns and Zitzewitzes joined us for a three-hour tour on the boat. Unlike Gilligan, we made it back before three hours turned into a syndicated television series. I also prefer being off the lake before sunset because I’m not entirely sure the boat lights still work. I could check them, of course, but that sounds suspiciously like effort.

The highlight of the week was Rock Night at Prior Lake’s Lakefront Music Fest. The weekend brings in some huge names, but we stick to Friday because country music has never really been our thing. We used to fight our way to the front of the stage, but now they charge extra for the pit and our ears have filed enough formal complaints for one lifetime.

We love running into old friends at Lakefront Music Fest, including Jimi Gilbertson and his sister Trish. Jimi is a big shot with the Prior Lake Rotary Club and gets to guard the VIP section, where $320 buys you perks like shade. That sounded excessive until 95-degree heat and direct sunlight spent several hours turning my forehead into a solar panel. One of these years, I may finally invest.

I think the last time we saw Lisa Maldonado was at this same concert last year. She’s one of those genuinely sweet people who always asks about the boys and makes you feel like no time has passed. She also gave Miss Sheri about five hugs while I got one, which felt a little uneven, but apparently Sheri had the premium friendship package.

Ted and Marcia found us in the crowd and settled in for the show. We occasionally wandered closer to the stage, partly for the music and partly because standing in a packed crowd was somehow our best available shade. Whenever we returned to our chairs, we enjoyed catching up with them, which made the night even better.

Jefferson Starship opened the night by taking us through their own musical family tree, from Jefferson Airplane to Jefferson Starship to Starship. They closed with “We Built This City,” but “White Rabbit” was the song I was waiting for. More than 50 years later, it’s still wonderfully psychedelic and remains one of my all-time favorites.

George Thorogood was next, and “I Drink Alone” has long been one of my favorite karaoke songs because his raspy growl is about as close as my voice gets to a natural fit. I can’t really sing, but I can fake irritated confidence pretty well. It’s the rare song where throat damage actually improves the performance.

Billy Idol closed the night, and for a while it felt like high school had come roaring back, only now everyone had reading glasses and sore knees. He tore through hit after hit, and I kept thinking about how perfectly he played himself in The Wedding Singer, still one of my favorite movie cameos. We left early and missed “Rebel Yell” and “White Wedding,” but beating that massive crowd on the mile walk back to the car and getting home to my bed was absolutely worth sacrificing a little rock-and-roll history.

@toddswank The only thing I look forward to about fall. 😂🦟 #Mosquitoes #Comedy #Relatable ♬ SILENT PATROL - AYUMI Hollow

250 Years Later, Still Chasing Life, Liberty, and Lake Time

noreply@blogger.com (Todd Swank) — Mon, 06 Jul 2026 01:13:11 +0000

250 Years Later, Still Chasing Life, Liberty, and Lake Time

Todd Swank's Diary Entry for July 5, 2026

We kicked off a full week of celebrating 250 years of freedom at Midwest Ribfest at Mystic Lake Casino, headlined by the man still making us wonder why Jessie had to be so selfish with his girl. Rick Springfield shocked the crowd by announcing he was 76, then proceeded to look and perform like he had found a backstage loophole in the aging process. Classic songs, loud guitars, and smoked meat. Not a bad way to start America’s birthday week!

Even better than the concert was randomly bumping into our old friends Joe and Jill Fischer. We caught up, laughed, and rocked out while Rick Springfield ripped through classics like “I’ve Done Everything for You” and “Don’t Talk to Strangers,” which is solid advice unless the strangers turn out to be old friends.

On Friday, Tracy and Dave came to town for the holiday weekend. Dave is known for hilarious T-shirts, and this one got plenty of attention at the Prior Lake Farmers Market. A few people looked shocked, like wiener jokes don’t belong between sweet corn and cucumbers. Please. This is America.

After picking Tracy and Dave up at the airport, we headed over to Luke’s new house so they could see it for the first time. They gave it the official family approval tour, which mostly means walking around, saying “this is really nice,” and pretending we all suddenly know things about countertops.

From there we headed to Avery and Abby’s, where they were kind enough to serve us an amazing lunch. Avery grilled up some terrific burgers while Abby supplied all the great sides. I’m assuming Avery learned those grill skills in college or on YouTube, because there is no evidence that kind of knowledge came from my genetic line.

We spent the afternoon cruising Prior Lake on my boat, despite a forecast that had been threatening rain all weekend like it was trying to ruin our plans personally. Instead, the weather turned gorgeous. Sometimes luck is just the universe briefly forgetting to mess with you.

Friday night we ate at our favorite restaurant on Prior Lake, Charlie’s on Prior. To be fair, it’s also the only restaurant on Prior Lake, but that just means they’ve really nailed their market share. Good food, great view, and the kind of place that makes you feel like summer is doing its job.

Dave asked the waitress what was popular, and I immediately told him he couldn’t visit Minnesota without trying the walleye. This was bold advice from a man who may have never actually ordered it himself. Dave said he liked it, but I spent the rest of the meal wondering if I had just committed a small act of culinary fraud.

After dinner at Charlie’s, I thought it would be fun to make 9:00 reservations at the Boardwalk in Shakopee so we could sit and watch Canterbury’s fireworks. Great plan, until we got there and I immediately felt guilty for our waitress since we weren’t ordering full meals. I panic-ordered a couple desserts nobody really ate because everyone was still full. The fireworks were amazing though, so I still think we made the right call.

We celebrated the 4th the best way possible: a full day on Prior Lake swimming, boating, and watching the annual boat parade. We had planned to end the night with fireworks at Mystic Lake, but the rain we had dodged all weekend finally found us and the show was canceled. After 250 years of freedom, Mother Nature still apparently has veto power.

On Sunday, we spent time with Grandma Linda, starting with brunch at Ze’s Diner. After a weekend of boats, fireworks, and patriotic chaos, this was the part that actually mattered: three generations around a table, laughing, telling stories, and proving that freedom is pretty great when nobody has to cook. Two hundred fifty years in, freedom still tastes better with bacon.

@toddswank LeBron to the Timberwolves would be a perfect fit! #lebron #nba #minnesota #timberwolves ♬ Dramatic Tension - Litne

The One Where the Swanks Took on Olympic National Park

noreply@blogger.com (Todd Swank) — Mon, 29 Jun 2026 02:17:22 +0000

The One Where the Swanks Took on Olympic National Park

Todd Swank's Diary Entry for June 28, 2026

Our family vacation started at the northern edge of Washington, exploring Olympic National Park, tucked into the most northwestern corner of the contiguous United States. We kicked things off at Hurricane Ridge, where the views were incredible, the family looked great, and I immediately began calculating how many scenic overlooks a middle-aged man can survive before requesting a chairlift. It was the perfect start to six days of mountains, ocean, rain forests, waterfalls, and me pretending I was physically prepared for any of it.

I’m thankful the boys still join us for these adventures, because there’s something pretty special about standing together on Hurricane Ridge with Olympic National Park behind us and the Strait of Juan de Fuca stretching out in the distance. Normally on a Monday I’m sitting at my desk staring at an unreasonable number of computer screens, pretending that’s a healthy way to experience the world. This was better. Mountains, ocean, sunshine, and family all in one place. Not a bad upgrade from spreadsheets, status updates, and whatever fresh nonsense was waiting in my inbox.

There was a lot more hiking on this vacation than I expected. Somehow “family trip to a national park” quietly turned into “four to five miles a day, enjoy your new lifestyle.” I struggled with it more than I wanted to admit, but Luke was absolutely built for it. He and Miss Sheri even climbed all the way to the top of Sunset Point while I made a strong early campaign, assessed my aging infrastructure, and wisely withdrew before the summit. It’s tough getting old, but it’s pretty awesome watching your kids pass you like you’re standing still.

While trying to catch up with Luke and Sheri, I stopped on the trail to rest when three deer suddenly walked right up near me. They didn’t seem scared at all, probably because in a national park humans are less “predator” and more “slow-moving camera holders.” I stood there snapping pictures while they calmly passed by, pretending it was a spiritual moment and not just proof I had finally moved slow enough for wildlife to trust me.

We also spotted this large marmot not far off the path, basically looking like a fat beaver who had retired from dam work and moved into mountain real estate. He seemed just as curious about us as we were about him, although he never stopped eating grass long enough to make it feel personal. He’d look up, chew, judge us briefly, then go right back to lunch. Honestly, I respect that kind of focus.

We had another great deer encounter on the drive up the mountain when this mama and her baby were hanging out on the side of the road. You’d think with an entire national park available, they could find a safer place than “next to moving vehicles,” but apparently they also understand tourism. We were just glad they made themselves available for our viewing pleasure before returning to their busy schedule of being adorable and wildly unconcerned.

Mountains in the morning, ocean in the afternoon. That’s a pretty solid day. We went whale watching on the Strait of Juan de Fuca expecting orcas, but the humpbacks apparently didn’t get that memo. For four hours they were popping up in every direction like the world’s largest game of Whack-a-Mole. Our naturalist said she counted at least 35 different whales, although a few of them were clearly attention whales who just kept coming back for more stage time. It was an absolutely whale of a day.

Day two brought us to Lake Crescent, a glacier-carved lake with water so blue and clear it almost looks fake. The blue is ridiculous because the lake has very few nutrients, which means not much algae grows in it, so the water stays crazy clear. It’s more than 600 feet deep, which is comforting if you enjoy standing near beautiful things that could easily hide a submarine. Lake Crescent is also home to its own unique trout, because apparently even the fish here needed to be more interesting than the rest of us. The whole place feels calm, clean, and slightly unfair to every other lake trying to compete.

Olympic National Park is pretty isolated, which is beautiful right up until you realize nature has not installed enough businesses to service our every whim. Thankfully, we found a nice resort on Lake Crescent that was happy to let us wander around and enjoy the amenities like civilized people pretending we belonged there. We were tempted to rent kayaks, but ultimately decided against it, which I fully supported. My legs had already filed a formal complaint for the week, and I didn’t need to start lying to myself that my arms were ready to become above-average employees.

After enjoying Lake Crescent, we had seen enough water just sitting there, so we went looking for some water with ambition. That led us to the hike toward Marymere Falls, because nothing says vacation like leaving a perfectly beautiful lake to go watch part of it throw itself down a mountain. The trail was gorgeous, winding through giant trees, mossy rocks, little bridges, and the kind of forest that makes you understand why people suddenly start using words like “peaceful” without irony.

Marymere Falls is one of the most popular hikes near Lake Crescent, mostly because it’s less than a mile each way and leads through old-growth forest to a 90-foot waterfall. The trail crosses Barnes Creek and Falls Creek before the final climb, which is where the brochure’s definition of “easy” and my definition of “why are we still going up?” had a brief disagreement. I’ll admit, I was a little underwhelmed at first and mildly annoyed that the waterfall made me climb a steep incline to earn the view. But I do like falling water, and once we got there, it was hard to stay mad at a mountain for doing something pretty.

After lunch we decided the only logical next step was to go find another waterfall, because that’s what brothers do. Some families throw a football around. Ours apparently hikes into the forest to admire water with commitment.

Sol Duc Falls was one of the cooler stops in Olympic National Park. The trail winds through old-growth forest before the water drops about 50 feet into a narrow canyon, which is beautiful in the way nature gets when it wants to impress you and remind you it can still win. I watched several people climb way too close to the edge, which made me nervous and sent my brain into the healthy vacation question of, “How often do people actually go over?” Then I remembered I was on a family vacation and probably shouldn’t spend too much time mentally producing a National Park disaster documentary. Great waterfall, though.

On day three, we got up early and made the drive to the Hoh Rain Forest, which is basically what happens when trees stop trimming their moss and fully commit to the lifestyle. The whole place feels prehistoric, magical, and just damp enough that you understand why the Twilight vampires were always brooding nearby. We had been tipped off to arrive early, so for once we listened to vacation advice instead of assuming we knew better. Smart move. When we left, there was a huge line of cars waiting to get in, which gave us that rare and beautiful feeling of being the people who planned correctly.

I did the Hall of Mosses Trail, but skipped the Spruce Trail because apparently my body has very strong opinions about how many enchanted forest walks should happen in one day. I do regret missing this giant tree stump, because it looks incredible and exactly like the kind of thing I would have pretended to fully understand while taking 47 pictures of it. But while they were out discovering ancient forest magic, I was back at the visitor center enjoying a bench, which honestly had a lot going for it. It was sturdy, quiet, and most importantly, not another trail.

The boys are lucky they have at least one parent who can keep up with them. Miss Sheri has always been pretty rugged, the kind of person you’d want nearby if you got lost in a rain forest. She’d stay calm, find the trail, ration the snacks, and somehow make it feel like a team-building exercise. I, on the other hand, would be waving down the first bear I saw like, “Good news, I’m slow and emotionally ready.

When we got back to the Sol Duc Falls parking lot, we ran into this Steller’s jay hanging around like he owned the place. I thought he looked beautiful, so naturally I chased him around with my camera like a completely normal adult man who had already spent the day photographing water, trees, and suspiciously confident wildlife. He finally gave me a decent pose, probably out of pity. Not a bad way to end a waterfall hike.

After the rain forest, we drove to Ruby Beach to see the sea stacks and tide pools. We even planned around low tide, because apparently we are now the kind of people who coordinate vacation activities with the moon. The sea stacks were incredible, and we did our best climbing around the rocks to find whatever tide pools we could reach without needing a rescue team. It was a very cool place to explore, although calling it a “beach” in June felt a little generous. In my mind, beaches come with sunshine, warmth, and a strong chance of complaining about sand. Ruby Beach came with sweatshirts, ocean wind, and the Pacific Northwest reminding us not to get too comfortable.

Ruby Beach looks less like a normal beach and more like a lumberyard lost a fight with the Pacific Ocean. All that driftwood gets carried down from the forests by rivers, then the tides and storms shove it back on shore in giant piles like the ocean is redecorating. It gives the whole place this wild, rugged feel you don’t get at beaches where the biggest hazard is someone’s Bluetooth speaker. It’s beautiful, a little chaotic, and a good reminder that when the ocean is done with a tree, it just throws it on shore like, “You deal with this.”

Miss Sheri asked me to pose for a classic “Shortarmguy Shot” on the beach, because apparently every scenic location needs at least one photo of me throwing my arms in the air like I just discovered tourism. I was thrilled when Abby suddenly jumped into the shot with me. She’s been a Swank for less than a year, but moments like this make me think she’s really starting to fit in with the family. Either that, or she’s already learned that when we embarrass ourselves, we prefer to do it together.

On Thursday we took the ferry from Port Angeles to Victoria, British Columbia, which gave us the exciting chance to use our passports and briefly feel like international travelers. There’s something fun about crossing water into another country, even if my dreams of struggling through a foreign language were immediately crushed when everyone spoke English. Still, Victoria was beautiful, the harbor was impressive, and for a few hours we got to pretend we were much more worldly than we actually are.

We stopped for lunch at The Flying Otter on the harbor, because when you’re visiting Canada near the water, fish and chips feels less like a choice and more like a civic duty. The food was good, the view was better, and the whole place had that nice vacation-lunch feeling where nobody is in a hurry and everyone pretends fried food is part of the cultural experience.

On our way out of town, we stopped at Olympic Game Farm in Sequim, which turned out to be way more fun than expected. Llamas, elk, zebras, bears, and other critters came right up to the car, and several grizzlies were separated from us by what felt like a couple of very optimistic fences. They sold special animal bread for $5 a loaf, so naturally we started with two and ended up going through six, because apparently our family’s wildlife strategy is handing carbs to anything with hooves and hoping the bears respect boundaries.

The employee told us nothing would bite, which was comforting right up until a buffalo shoved half his head through the window like he had a dinner reservation in our car. They were powerful, pushy, and completely shameless about using those giant tongues to retrieve every last piece of bread. I’m not saying things got inappropriate, but after feeding one of these guys, I felt I needed a cigarette and a quiet moment to myself.

@toddswank Olympic Game Farm in Sequim, Washington lets you feed bread to grizzly bears! #bears #grizzlies #brownbear #sequim ♬ original sound - Martin dutch

@toddswank Incredible experience in Port Angeles, Washington watching humpback whales! #humpback #whales #portangeles #pugetsound ♬ Imperial Orchestra Pirates of the Caribbean - Imperial Orchestra

@toddswank Whale watching on the Puget Sound Express in Port Angeles, Washington gave us this incredible experience! #humpback #whale #portangeles ♬ original sound - Todd Swank

@toddswank Grandma Linda heard this song and, completely out of the blue, announced, “I want you to play this at my funeral.” 😳 Nothing like casually dropping your final playlist request in the middle of the afternoon. Guess I better write it down before she changes it to something by Pitbull. #whatsup #grandma #funeralsong ♬ original sound - Todd Swank

Oracle FY27 Sales Kickoff: Fired Up in Las Vegas

noreply@blogger.com (Todd Swank) — Mon, 15 Jun 2026 01:35:50 +0000

Oracle FY27 Sales Kickoff: Fired Up in Las Vegas

Todd Swank's Diary Entry for June 14, 2026

I flew into Las Vegas Monday morning and flew home Friday, and this picture is about as much of the Strip as I saw all week. Normally Vegas offers temptation, bad decisions, and stories you probably shouldn’t publish on the internet. This time I was there with 4,500 Oracle coworkers getting fired up for FY27, talking AI data centers, and behaving like a responsible adult. Which is really disappointing for my brand.

The Venetian was our home base for the week, which sounds glamorous until you realize we basically turned it into a very fancy corporate ant farm. Oracle somehow moved 4,500 of us through meetings, meals, security, and caffeine refueling stations without the whole thing collapsing into chaos. Honestly, watching them feed that many salespeople in a two-hour window may have been the most impressive infrastructure demo of the week. And yes, the bomb-sniffing dogs were everywhere, which is reassuring right up until you start wondering what they know that you don’t.

You may remember from last week’s post, A Beautiful Day to Quit Golf, that I lost my temporary tooth, flipper, and retainer in Clear Lake two days before this trip. I couldn’t get a replacement in time, and my emergency Shark Tank-style TempTooth science project went about as well as you’d expect. I even thought about skipping Vegas, but then I reminded myself I’ve looked different my entire life. This wasn’t the hand I wanted, but I’ve been dealt this hand before. So I decided to own it, smile anyway, and not let one missing tooth stop me from doing what I love most: talking to strangers who didn’t ask for it.

The first night I had dinner with several of my recent teammates. At Oracle, every June feels a little like corporate musical chairs, except the music stops and suddenly you have a new manager, a new team, a new product focus, and three fresh acronyms you’re expected to care deeply about. Honestly, it’s not a bad thing. You get exposed to new styles, new ideas, and new ways of doing the job. Plus, changing managers every year keeps you sharp. Mainly because by the time you figure out what one of them wants, congratulations, here comes another one.

We had dinner at WAKUDA inside The Venetian, and the sushi was incredible. But honestly, I spent half the meal staring at the art on the walls. It had this erotic modern punk thing going on, like the first time I saw The Matrix and realized movies could be cool, confusing, and slightly dangerous all at once. I didn’t totally understand what any of it meant, but I knew it was working on me. The whole place felt like Tokyo, Las Vegas, and a tattoo parlor got together and made excellent sushi. That’s how they get you hooked before the bill arrives and commits a second-degree felony against your wallet.

People always ask why I love Las Vegas so much, and the answer is simple: it’s Disney World for adults. There is no other place on earth where you can walk through a fake Italian shopping mall inside a fake Venetian hotel, stumble past a full Wizard of Oz display promoting a show at a giant Sphere, and have every single part of that feel completely normal. Nobody here is pretending to be something they’re not, which is ironic because everything here is pretending to be something it’s not. That’s the magic of Vegas, and I fall for it every single time.

Tuesday morning the FY27 Sales Kickoff officially kicked off, and that’s Mark Hura, Oracle’s President of Global Field Operations, on stage. Mark has a way of making 4,500 salespeople feel like they’re part of something bigger than a quota, which is harder than it sounds. The FY26 numbers were record-breaking across the board, but honestly, what got me wasn’t the revenue figures. It was the AI story. Oracle is building data center infrastructure at a scale most people can’t picture, powering technology that’s going to change how doctors treat patients, how drugs get developed, and how the world actually works. I know AI makes a lot of people nervous. I get it. But sitting in that room, I walked away genuinely excited about the future. Not the scary sci-fi version. The one where people actually get helped.

Tuesday morning the FY27 Sales Kickoff moved from Vegas spectacle to full-on business mode, and this was my first time seeing Oracle CEO Mike Sicilia speak in person. He laid out a vision for an AI-enabled future that felt less like corporate hype and more like the ground shifting under every industry at once. On the earnings call, he talked about customers moving past AI experiments and into real enterprise solutions that improve productivity, service, and competitive advantage. That’s the part that gets me fired up. Not the doom-scrolling version of AI where everyone argues with strangers for sport, but the version where we solve harder problems, move faster, and build things that actually help people. He said the world will look very different three years from now. I believed him.

Tuesday night was the awards ceremony for the North America OCI organization, called The Larrys in honor of Oracle founder Larry Ellison. They do a really nice job turning it into our version of the Oscars, with presenters, nominees, big production value, and plenty of people dressed like they’re one acceptance speech away from thanking their agent. I’ve never been cool enough to be nominated for one of these awards, which I’m totally fine with because I also haven’t been cool enough to own a tuxedo. So really, the system is working.

We had around 120 partners in attendance too, which meant the happy hour invitations started piling up fast. I actually had to turn down several of them, which is wildly out of character for me and frankly not the kind of personal growth I signed up for. I did make it to a few, though, and they were a blast. There’s something energizing about being in a room full of smart people, good conversations, and appetizers you only eat because they’re on tiny plates and therefore legally don’t count.

I also got to spend more time with my new teammates, including Chris in the middle and my new boss, Michael. We were both more than happy to accept the free cowboy hat swag, because I am nothing if not easily bribed by accessories. I honestly can’t remember ever wearing a cowboy hat before, but now that I’ve seen the evidence, I think I pull it off. If this whole thing ever falls apart, I may ride into a dusty border town, clean up corruption, win the respect of the locals, and still be home by dinner because my horse has sleep apnea.

Just like that, it was the final day. Four and a half days, 4,500 people, more sessions, hallway conversations, and tiny appetizers than I can fully account for, and somehow I walked out the other side genuinely fired up. Navigating an event this size is its own endurance sport, but the energy in that room never really dropped. One Team. One Goal. No Limits. Easy to put on a slide, harder to actually feel, but by the end of the week I felt it. We still had one more session to go though, and let’s just say the closing speaker made staying in my seat an easy decision.

The week ended with Oracle founder Larry Ellison speaking to us, which was pretty incredible. I’ve always viewed him as one of the top technology visionaries of all time, so hearing him talk about Oracle’s future and the AI-enabled world ahead was a great way to close things out. At one point he was asked if he owned a Tesla Optimus robot yet. He said no, but he did have one from Unitree, then casually predicted that within five years we may see more humanoid robots walking around than actual humans. The part that hit me was when he said finger dexterity is still one of the hardest problems to solve. The base robot might cost around $16,000, but the one with really good hands is more than $50,000. As a guy who has spent his entire life navigating a world built for hands that work better than mine, I found that oddly validating. Apparently functional fingers are the premium upgrade. Tell me something I don’t know.

A Beautiful Day to Quit Golf

noreply@blogger.com (Todd Swank) — Sun, 07 Jun 2026 21:50:32 +0000

A Beautiful Day to Quit Golf

Todd Swank's Diary Entry for June 7, 2026

Thursday night we met Luke and the Walters at Crooked Pint in Savage for bingo, which sounds relaxing until you realize every number called that isn’t on your card feels like a personal attack. None of us came close to winning, but the urge to yell “BINGO!” kept building inside me like a medical condition. I’m pretty sure later that night I woke up in a cold sweat and screamed it into the darkness just to get it out of my system, because it sure as heck wasn’t happening during the actual games.

Saturday I drove down to Clear Lake, Iowa to golf at Oak Hills with my high school buddies “Krazy” Kory Madson and a pair of Jasons, Davis and Alexander. It was one of those perfect summer days where the weather was beautiful, the company was great, and for a brief shining moment I was able to pretend I belonged on a golf course. History would prove otherwise, but at this point we were still enjoying the fantasy.

I really noticed something on this trip. I’ve been playing golf with these guys for about 40 years now, and somehow they all got pretty good while I’m still out there duffing shots, launching worm burners, and swinging with all the confidence of a man trying to kill a mosquito with a shovel. So after a long and terrible career, I have decided to retire from golf. I know this may shock the sports world, but God did not make me to be a golfer. He made me to ride in the cart, get a little rowdy, and provide the kind of moral support nobody actually requested.

Normally I get together with these guys in the fall for Jason Alexander’s golf tournament, so it was great to see them in early summer when my golf game still had plenty of time to embarrass itself before Labor Day. I rode in the cart with Jason and really enjoyed catching up. He spent a lot of years in enterprise software before retiring a few years ago, and now he’s focused on entrepreneurial activities, which has pretty much been my dream for years. Retire early, build something fun, and hopefully avoid meetings where someone says “circle back” with a straight face.

One of Jason’s new entrepreneurial projects is Dryp Golf, where he’s starting to sell golf club covers. This putter cover is his first release, made intentionally for the center shaft medium putter, and I have to admit I was fascinated by the whole thing. He just received his first batch of inventory, and demand is already strong, so if you want one, you better grab it quick. Limited quantities of Early Birdie pricing are available, which is a much better use of golf terminology than anything I was doing on the course.

Jason’s other venture is Surf & Serenity House, a walkable vacation rental right in the heart of Clear Lake, which is honestly one of my favorite towns on the planet. It’s a two-bedroom, two-bath home built for couples, small families, two-couple weekends, or girls’ trips, and the location looks pretty ideal for bouncing between the lakefront, downtown, and the Surf District. The reviews are already glowing, which doesn’t surprise me because Jason has always been the kind of guy who pays attention to details. Meanwhile, my entrepreneurial gift is mostly buying domain names and then ignoring them for eight years.

After golf we stopped at Lakeside Landing for food and a drink before I headed back to Minnesota. It’s right on the lake, which made it the perfect place to sit, relax, and pretend I had just completed a serious athletic event instead of mostly riding in a cart. The food was good, the view was beautiful, and for a few peaceful minutes, everything felt exactly like summer is supposed to feel.

Traditionally when we’re in Clear Lake, we eat at the Other Place, or the OP as the locals call it because apparently saying two full words is exhausting. But Kory really wanted to eat somewhere on the water, so we ended up at Lakeside Landing instead. It seemed like a great decision at the time. Beautiful view, good food, cold drinks, and absolutely no warning sign that this innocent little change in plans was about to make my next week significantly more annoying.

Some of you may remember I’m missing a front tooth, although you haven’t seen much evidence of that here because I had a temporary tooth in a retainer that looked real enough for photos. While we were eating, I wrapped it in a napkin like I’ve done plenty of times before, only this time a gust of wind picked up the napkin, launched my temporary tooth into Clear Lake, and sent it straight to whatever underwater kingdom keeps sunglasses, boat keys, and bad decisions.

Jason was incredibly kind and actually waded around trying to find it for me, but the bottom was rocky and the lake had clearly already claimed its prize. I really appreciated him trying. I’ll get another one, but the timing is spectacularly terrible because tomorrow morning I fly to Vegas to spend a week with 4,000 Oracle coworkers for meetings, dinners, and professional schmoozing. On the bright side, I’ve looked different my entire life, so I guess this is just another chapter in that book. Either that, or I’ll be joining Jason Alexander in retirement a little sooner than expected.

The Week We Remembered Outside Exists

noreply@blogger.com (Todd Swank) — Sun, 31 May 2026 22:49:34 +0000

The Week We Remembered Outside Exists

Todd Swank's Diary Entry for May 31, 2026

Work kept me pretty pinned down this week. By Friday night, we were ready to break loose a little, so we met up with Abby and Avery, helped them knock out an errand, and grabbed dinner on the patio at Charlie’s on Prior Lake. They all went with chicken tinga bowls while I ordered the two-meat platter, because apparently I treat dinner like I’m stocking up before a blizzard. Good food, good conversation, and one of those simple family nights that doesn’t sound like much until you realize it was exactly what you needed.

Minnesota finally warmed up, so Miss Sheri and I decided it was time to start walking again before our bodies officially reclassified us as furniture. I can make it about two miles without passing out, and we managed to do that three times this week. The first two were in our neighborhood, so Saturday we got ambitious and hit the Jensen Lake Trailhead at Lebanon Hills. Nothing says rugged wilderness like a beautiful lake covered in lily pads, where nature looks peaceful while quietly judging your cardio.

Luke joined us for the hike, so we picked something a little closer to his place in Apple Valley. I always end up walking faster when he’s with us, which annoys me because my preferred pace is “still technically moving.” Luke acts like there’s a finish line somewhere, while I’m just trying to enjoy nature and keep all major organs functioning. Still, it was good to see the boy, even if his casual walking speed feels like a personal attack.

You know us. We’re always keeping an eye out for interesting critters to harass by forcing them into unpaid photo sessions. Luke started the adventure by spotting a good-sized garter snake, but by the time I caught up, it had already disappeared under a log like it owed me money. We saw some turtles too, but around here turtles are basically the neighborhood committee. The real stars were these white ducks, who had clearly been sleeping until we showed up and ruined their spa day. They opened their eyes just long enough to confirm we were annoying, then we snapped the picture and let them get back to pretending humans don’t exist.

Saturday night, Miss Sheri and I had tickets to see David Spade at Mystic Lake Casino. I’m not sure I’d call myself a David Spade superfan, but I’ve followed him forever through SNL and classics like Tommy Boy. The only recent stuff I’ve seen is TikTok clips from the podcast he does with Dana Carvey, which mostly looks like two comedy legends trying to figure out why the internet is mad today. Either way, Spade is part of the Adam Sandler crew, and those guys have been turning dumb, immature comedy into gold for decades. They’re basically proof that stupid comedy works when everyone involved is way smarter than they’re pretending to be.

I’m a sucker for any venue that lets you upload a photo to the big screen, because apparently my ego needs stadium seating. When ours popped up, I liked to imagine the whole audience thinking, “Todd Swank? What’s he doing here? I’d like to hang out with that guy.” Then I took a picture of the picture, which is either deeply narcissistic or just good documentation. Probably both. But way down deep, isn’t that what we all want? To be loved, remembered, and briefly displayed above a casino crowd before David Spade comes out.

I’d love to say the comedy was amazing, but honestly, it was just OK. The two openers got a few laughs, but mostly felt like they were there to remind us David Spade was coming. Spade was definitely the pro. He’s lived an interesting life, so even just hearing him talk about SNL, movies, and Hollywood weirdness was entertaining. But the set did feel a little phoned in. He opened by ripping on guys in the front row for wearing shorts like they had just mowed the lawn, which was funny, but also bold coming from a man dressed like he wandered in from a gas station run during cabin weekend. Still, much respect for the guy. I just wish it felt like he wanted to give this crowd a show they couldn’t have gotten anywhere else.

Welcome to Summer. Bring a Hoodie.

noreply@blogger.com (Todd Swank) — Tue, 26 May 2026 03:17:57 +0000

Welcome to Summer. Bring a Hoodie.

Todd Swank's Diary Entry for May 25, 2026

Memorial Day weekend is the unofficial start of summer, which in Minnesota means we all pretend the weather is cooperating. We get ten thousand lakes and about twelve perfect days, so when one shows up, you get out there before the weather changes its mind. Around here, summer is just winter taking a smoke break.

Big weekends on the lake mean everybody is trying to get ready for boating season, including the crews doing algae treatment at the Prior Lake boat launch by our house. Apparently they were spreading alum, which is supposed to help clean up the lake. I’m all for clean water but when you see giant industrial tanks parked next to the dock, your brain doesn’t immediately go, “Ah yes, recreation.” The sign said it was safe, which is comforting in the same way every official sign is comforting. You believe it, but you also keep Erin Brockovich’s number handy just in case.

The Korkowskis were crazy enough to host us on Fish Lake for the weekend, which either makes them saints or people with dangerously poor judgment. Either way, they always make us feel like part of the family. We kicked things off at the Clearwater Legion, where there was supposed to be some kind of horse racing event until it got canceled and forced us into our backup plan: donating money to pull tabs like responsible adults with no real understanding of odds.

Our families have been friends for years, which works out nicely because we all enjoy sitting around playing games and pretending we’re not way too competitive about it. They always have something new for us to learn, and this time it was Mah Jong, which I’m still trying to understand without looking like I need a court-appointed tutor. The good news is I’m much easier to beat when I don’t know the rules, so really, I was being generous. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Saturday morning brought us to the Clearwater Truck Stop for breakfast, which turned out to be way better than it had any right to be. They had caramel rolls, donuts as big as your head, and enough food on the plates to make you rethink every health goal you’ve ever pretended to have. I didn’t realize truckers were such fancy eaters. I figured it was all black coffee and regret, but apparently they’ve been hiding the good stuff next to the diesel pumps.

By Saturday night the sun finally started peeking out, so we did what any reasonable Minnesotans would do after complaining about the weather all weekend: immediately acted like it had been perfect the whole time. Mason was kind enough to captain our two-hour tour, and we cruised around Fish Lake looking for local bird friends, most of which we confidently identified wrong. But confidence counts for something, especially when the bird flies away before anyone can Google it.

I’ve never seen a cat who likes water, but apparently Karl the Kitty is built different. They had to hold him back a couple times like he was seriously considering a leap into the lake, though I still wonder if he would’ve really gone through with it. Cats are big on acting tough right up until reality gets wet.

Summer never sticks around long enough here, which is probably why we all act like lunatics the second it shows up. But that’s what makes weekends like this count. Good friends, good food, a little time on the water, and just enough questionable weather to remind you not to get cocky. Hopefully this is the start of the best summer yet, or at least one where we make enough good memories to forget how short it is.

@toddswank A friend asked me how come nobody ever sees Dinosaur Ghosts? #dinosaur #ghost ♬ Olympo Rave - Kobe Mane & SoyFlowers

@toddswank The challenge said randomly pick a photo from your phone to see what sound TikTok adds to it. #cats #boats #creatorsearchinsights ♬ original sound - duc

Witnessing the End of the 2026 Timberwolves

noreply@blogger.com (Todd Swank) — Mon, 18 May 2026 03:34:49 +0000

Witnessing the End of the 2026 Timberwolves

Todd Swank's Diary Entry for May 17, 2026

We headed downtown Friday night fired up to cheer on our beloved Timberwolves in Game 6, fully expecting the kind of playoff fight that would force a Game 7 and keep the dream alive. Avery and Abby joined us, with the original plan being Avery sitting with me in our usual seats while Miss Sheri and Abby prepared for the upper-deck fan survival experience. Ant was gonna go off. The crowd was gonna be nuts. Wemby was gonna have a long night. Hope was alive. Which, for Minnesota sports fans, is usually the first sign of trouble.

Jade has been our Timberwolves rep for a few years now, and right as the game was starting, she tracked down Miss Sheri with the kind of news that never happens to us. She surprised us with 4th-row floor seats behind the basket. Just like that, Abby got promoted to sit with Avery, and Sheri and I got a brief glimpse into how the rich people experience playoff basketball.

I was pretty fired up. I’d never had playoff seats this good. Sure, we once got courtside seats for a random summer Wolves exhibition where the rookies played some team from another country, which was cool... but let’s be honest, that’s basically basketball recess. This was a Friday night, Round 2, Game 6, win-or-go-home playoff basketball. This was the big time.

And now we were sitting close enough to watch our favorite player, Anthony Edwards, go toe-to-toe with Wemby, the most fascinating phenomenon in basketball, from just a few feet away. Every dunk, block, stare-down, and possible playoff meltdown was suddenly happening right in front of us. What kind of absolute chaos were we about to witness?

It didn’t take long to realize this might not be the magical playoff memory we’d imagined on the drive downtown. The Spurs came out looking calm, confident, and annoyingly competent, while the Wolves looked like a team trying to assemble IKEA furniture without the instructions. Stephon Castle was cooking, San Antonio couldn’t seem to miss, and the energy in our fancy new seats started shifting from THIS IS AMAZING to uhhhh… is anyone else concerned?

There were still a few flashes that made you sit forward and think, okay... here we go. But if we’re being honest, San Antonio just looked like the better team most of this series. More confident. More composed. More answers. The Wolves never quite felt like the same team that punched Denver in the mouth in round one. That version of them apparently took a different exit.

And the supporting cast that helped take down Denver just never looked the same. Jaden wasn’t giving us those momentum-swinging moments, Rudy felt far less disruptive, and Julius Randle’s offense seemed to take an unexpected vacation. Against Denver, these guys felt like weapons. Against San Antonio, way too often they just felt... present.

Some of this is understandable when the other team has a guy who looks like AI was asked to build the perfect basketball player and ignored all normal human limitations. Wembanyama is 7-foot-4, handles like a guard, blocks everything, and somehow doesn’t move like a folding ladder. It’s absurd. Unfortunately, our magical VIP playoff experience ended the same way the Timberwolves season did... with a 139-109 punch to the face. And now comes the annual Minnesota tradition: pretending this roster is either one tweak away or in desperate need of demolition. Because right now, San Antonio and Oklahoma City look like they’re playing a different sport.

But hey, at least we got to rub shoulders with celebrities. Well... at least Minnesota famous. I got to bump into Mark Rosen, who has basically been narrating our local sports heartbreak for the last 50 years. If you grew up anywhere near the Twin Cities, you know exactly who Mark is.

And yet... despite the fact that Minnesota’s four major men’s pro sports teams haven’t won a championship since the Twins in 1991, Miss Sheri and I will absolutely keep showing up, wearing the gear, losing our voices, and convincing ourselves the Vikings or Timberwolves are finally about to reward our emotional instability. Because that’s what fans do. Hope is basically our regional personality trait at this point. And who knows... maybe 2027 is finally our year. Yes, I know. I’ve said that before.

@toddswank This kid might be really really good!. He’s by himself doing wind sprints an hour before Round 2 Game 6 against the Wolves. #wemby #spurs #wolves #nbaplayoff ♬ original sound - thu nguyen

@toddswank Let’s Go Wolves! Game 6 Round 2 2026 NBA Playoffs. #timberwolves #spurs #nbaplayoffs ♬ original sound - Todd Swank

Mother’s Day Maiden Voyage & Mild Hypothermia

noreply@blogger.com (Todd Swank) — Mon, 11 May 2026 02:52:46 +0000

Mother’s Day Maiden Voyage & Mild Hypothermia

Todd Swank's Diary Entry for May 10, 2026

Our weekend started off at Target Center for Game 3 of the Timberwolves-Spurs playoff series. After stealing Game 1 in San Antonio, we were feeling pretty optimistic… right up until the Wolves got completely humiliated in Game 2. The kind of loss where halfway through the third quarter you start wondering if you should just turn the TV off and reorganize the garage instead. But now we were back home in Minneapolis, the building was electric, and like every Minnesota sports fan who refuses to learn from past trauma, we talked ourselves right back into believing anything was possible.

It was my main man Luke’s turn to join me for a playoff game. One thing the Timberwolves do during the postseason is put a matching shirt on every seat and strongly encourage the entire arena to wear it. And by “strongly encourage,” I mean periodically blast random non-compliant fans onto the giant scoreboard like they’re being publicly shamed in a medieval town square. Luke decided he wasn’t about to cover up the Anthony Edwards Olympic jersey he paid good money for, so he spent most of the night gambling on the hope that nobody in the Target Center camera department noticed him.

Meanwhile, Vikings head coach Kevin O’Connell and his family also decided they were apparently above the mandatory playoff t-shirt program. Smart move. When you’re the head coach of the Minnesota Vikings, you probably learn pretty quickly not to blindly buy into hype just because an arena full of people is yelling that this year feels different.

After struggling through Game 2, all eyes were back on Anthony Edwards to see if he was ready to take over again. Turns out he was. Ant came out aggressive right away and finished with 32 points and 14 rebounds, looking much more like the guy Minnesota fans have convinced themselves can carry this franchise to places we usually only read about happening in other cities.

Seeing 7-foot-5 Victor Wembanyama in person honestly feels less like watching basketball and more like witnessing some experimental NBA lab project that escaped containment. The guy doesn’t even seem real. His arms are so long he can basically grab the ball wherever he wants and casually place it into the basket while everybody else underneath him looks like they accidentally wandered into the wrong age division. Every time the Wolves fought their way back into the game, Wemby would just appear again like some giant basketball praying mantis ruining everyone’s evening. I hate how much I enjoyed watching him.

The Wolves fought hard all night and Anthony Edwards definitely looked more like himself again, but every single time it felt like Minnesota was about to finally grab control of the game, Victor Wembanyama would show up and ruin everybody’s mood again. The guy finished with 39 points, 15 rebounds, and enough blocked shots to make half the Timberwolves afraid to even go near the basket. By the end of the night I found myself wondering if the Wolves can actually beat this team four times unless something completely insane happens in Game 4… like Wembanyama somehow getting ejected or something crazy like that. But that’ll never happen.

We started Mother’s Day by having lunch with Grandma Linda, and honestly it’s pretty amazing seeing how much stronger she already looks compared to just a couple weeks ago. After the hip surgery and rehab, there were definitely moments where everything felt uncertain, but now she’s back home, getting a little stronger every day, and already talking about driving again soon. Which honestly feels like the final stage of recovery for anybody over 80. Once they start talking about getting the car keys back, you know they’re officially tired of everybody telling them what to do. Happy Mother’s Day to the little lady.

I’m not totally convinced a boat ride on a 50-degree day was how Miss Sheri dreamed of spending Mother’s Day, but she knows the family loves getting out on the lake so she made the sacrifice anyway. Nothing says “Minnesota boating season” quite like wrapping yourself in blankets while pretending the sunshine means it’s actually warm outside. Still, after a long winter, just being back on Prior Lake again somehow felt worth it… at least for the guy driving the boat instead of sitting in the wind.

Abby asked if I wanted to get a picture with the family, so naturally I jumped at the opportunity before one of the boys wandered off or suddenly became “too busy” for family photos. Not totally sure Miss Sheri enjoyed my full-grown adult body sitting on her lap for this picture, but this is one of the few recent photos of all four of us together so it felt worth the temporary structural stress to her legs. At least to me it did.

Since it was our maiden voyage on the boat this year, I immediately plotted a course straight to Bird Island. Every spring the cormorants, egrets, and herons completely take the place over and it honestly feels like freshman move-in day at a college dorm. Birds flying everywhere, everybody screaming at each other, fighting over space, hauling branches around like overloaded parents carrying mini fridges, and desperately trying to claim the perfect spot before somebody else steals it. Absolute chaos. Which is exactly why we love going there this time of year.

I always find it fascinating that hundreds of birds all choose this one tiny island every single year while there are perfectly good empty trees all over the rest of the lake. Apparently this place is basically the hottest nightclub in Scott County if you’re a bird. Everybody packed together, screaming nonstop, fighting over nesting spots, pairing off, and immediately starting families practically on top of each other like they’re splitting rent in downtown Minneapolis. Nature is incredible. Also… there’s definitely a smell.

Before we left the area, we noticed the turtles were already out in full force, which honestly surprised me considering it still felt pretty cold out on the lake. Apparently they’re just as sick of winter as the rest of us. The second Minnesota gets even a tiny bit of sunshine, every living creature in the state starts climbing onto rocks and logs like they’ve been trapped indoors since November.

After the boat ride, we finally got around to the thing Miss Sheri actually wanted to do on Mother’s Day, which was sit down somewhere warm and eat a good steak at Whiskey Inferno. Smart woman. And honestly, after raising kids, surviving Minnesota winters, putting up with husbands like me, and still somehow holding families together through all the chaos life throws at them, mothers everywhere have probably earned a steak or two.

Happy Mother’s Day!

Nothing Strengthens a Family Like Helping Them Move… Whether You Want To or Not

noreply@blogger.com (Todd Swank) — Sun, 03 May 2026 23:54:13 +0000

Nothing Strengthens a Family Like Helping Them Move…

Whether You Want To or Not

Todd Swank's Diary Entry for May 3, 2026

It wasn’t all fun and games this week… two members of our immediate family decided it was a great time to move. And when family asks for help, my first instinct is to run and hide, but that feeling of obligation always wins. So there I was, watching Luke sign for his first house in Apple Valley like a proud dad… while also thinking about how many trips it’s going to take to move everything. God didn’t exactly build me for boxes and furniture, but Miss Sheri is a pro and Avery helped with the heavy lifting. I showed up, did what I could, and tried not to hurt myself.

I’m so proud of Luke. More than a year ago he was about to sign another year’s lease with his friends when he said he was done renting and ready to become a homeowner. He committed to one more lease, start looking in December, and buy when it ended in April… and then he actually executed. He worked with a family friend, toured a bunch of places, landed on one in Apple Valley, negotiated a solid deal, and handled every closing curveball like a pro. He even timed it so the closing hit right when the lease ended, skipping the classic “move back home” phase. Now he’s in, figuring out decorating and all the surprises of homeownership… and I’m just standing there thinking, he did good.

Our other big move this week was Grandma Linda, finally getting out after nearly three months of hospitals and rehab. New hip, new pacemaker… basically the full upgrade package. Now she’s slow-walking her way back home and back to normal, one careful step at a time… and doing it with a lot more toughness than most people I know.

I was pretty worried about Mom before her hip was replaced… she was really struggling to get around and we were all wondering what things were going to look like. But then we stopped by today and she already had the place back in order, moving around, doing laundry like nothing ever happened. I don’t know how she does it, but she’s figuring it out one step at a time… and yeah, we’re pretty proud of her too.

Testing How Much Life We Can Fit Into a Week Before We Break

noreply@blogger.com (Todd Swank) — Mon, 27 Apr 2026 03:22:16 +0000

Testing How Much Life We Can Fit Into a Week Before We Break

Todd Swank's Diary Entry for April 26, 2026

We’ve been on a bit of a run lately, the kind where you keep saying yes and don’t really stop to ask if that’s a good idea until your body starts negotiating with you. It kicked off with Thunderstruck at Shakopee Bowl, which felt ambitious considering we were already tired going in, but apparently all it takes is Back in Black and Highway to Hell to convince you you’re still 25. For a couple hours we were fully committed, singing, headbanging, and making excellent life choices… right up until the next morning when every joint in my body filed a formal complaint and reminded me this whole “let’s see how much we can fit into a week” thing might have consequences.

Eric really surprised me on this one. It was his idea to get everyone out to the show, and then he went full front row like he was trying to earn a spot in the band. I used to be that guy, so I worked my way up there for a few songs to relive it. For a minute it felt right… then it got real loud, real fast. Eric never moved. I bailed like someone who’s learned this lesson before, ears ringing. I’ve officially become the guy who complains about volume instead of screaming for more.

We caught up with Portia and Doc at The Pointe, which somehow always happens right after April 15th… when accountants rejoin society and start returning texts again. Portia just got done surviving tax season, sorting through everyone else’s financial chaos, including ours, so this felt like her victory lap. Always good to see them, compare notes on how much damage was done, and remind ourselves that I’m sure the government will put all that money to absolutely fantastic use.

Thursday night Luke and Avery joined us at the NFL Draft party at US Bank Stadium, which for us mostly means finding out which player got assigned the very important job of meeting the public. This year it was Levi Drake Rodriguez, and honestly, he couldn’t have been cooler about it. You always wonder if these guys are thinking “how did I get this assignment,” but he was all smiles, taking pictures, chatting it up like he actually wanted to be there. Meanwhile we’re standing there like proud Vikings fans already convincing ourselves this seventh-round pick might secretly be the steal of the 2024 draft.

I told Aaron Jones I thought he was a classy guy, and I actually had receipts. Two years ago at this same draft party, we stood in a long line, missed him by about 30 seconds, and just as we were finishing our sad little backup photos, he came over, jumped in, and grabbed a quick selfie with us on my phone. Didn’t have to do it, but he did. When I reminded him, he smiled like he remembered… or at least like I wasn’t completely making it up. Either way, I’m pretty sure we’re building something here.

Walking out of the draft and somehow ran into Amanda and William, who we had just spent a few days with in Florida. Either we’re getting around more than we realize, or this is the start of one of those “we keep running into the same people everywhere” situations.

A couple months ago Abby asked if we wanted to drive to Des Moines to see her favorite comedian, Nate Bargatze, and because she’s awesome and we love her, the answer was obviously yes before I thought through any of the details. Fast forward to a 7-hour round trip and seats in the very top row, and I’m halfway up those stairs completely out of breath, starting to wonder if I should be monitoring my heart rate instead of finding my seat. Abby was fired up the whole time, which made it worth it, and honestly the show delivered. Nate was great, the four comedians before him were hilarious, and once I got settled in and stopped questioning my life choices, it turned into one of those nights you’re really glad you didn’t overthink.

Nate Bargatze is on an absolute heater right now, and after seeing him live, I get it. I mostly knew him from SNL, especially those George Washington sketches, which are some of my all-time favorites. The way he breaks down the stupidity of our weights and measures system like “how many yards are in a mile… nobody knows” shouldn’t be that funny, but it absolutely kills me. The Big Dumb Eyes tour is selling out everywhere, and it makes sense. He just stands there, barely moves, and somehow has an entire arena locked in laughing at stuff we all know is ridiculous but never really think about.

Being in the area naturally meant a stop to see Krazy Kory, which included supper at Boulder Tap House and a trip out to his place in the country. Always good to catch up with Kory, and the kids loved seeing the farmhouse setup, wide open space, fresh air, the whole deal. He’s even got his own garden going, which is impressive, because our version of a green thumb is successfully keeping grass alive most of the time.

Saturday night was Game 4 at Target Center between the Timberwolves and Denver Nuggets. The Wolves have been playing so well we showed up ready to howl like it was part of our job description. The place was electric. We leaned all the way in, yelling, clapping, fully convinced our energy was making a difference… like the Wolves were just waiting on us to show up so they could finally play their best.

Jokić is the guy we all love to boo, which is funny because it’s mostly just our way of not admitting he might be the best player on the planet. Gobert’s been doing a great job making life tough on him, and we’ve got our own stars with Ant and DiVincenzo stepping up. At this point we were feeling pretty good about things… which, in true Minnesota fashion, usually means something’s about to go sideways.

And just like that, everything flipped. DiVincenzo goes down a couple minutes in and has to be helped off, and you could feel the air leave the building. Then Ant landed wrong and gets helped off too, and suddenly everyone’s doing that quiet “this doesn’t look good” math. One minute we’re talking about a third straight trip to the Western Conference Finals… the next we’re wondering if that just got a whole lot tougher.

And then the crazy part… they didn’t fold. With Ant and Donte out, the Wolves just kept coming. Rudy and Jaden stepped up, and Ayo completely took over, dropping 43 off the bench like it was nothing. The place went from nervous to losing its mind. I don’t know how this ends, but this might be the deepest Minnesota team we’ve ever had, and nights like this make you believe anything’s possible.

Let’s go Wolves!!!

@toddswank Already fired up for Saturday at Target Center. If they hand these out, I’m camping at the door. #Timberwolves #NBAPlayoffs #TargetCenter #Bobblehead ♬ som original - F3rnand0

@toddswank 10 years later and Prince still sounds more alive than half the stuff on the charts. Legends don’t fade out. They just get louder in memory. Purple forever. #Prince #PurpleRain #MusicLegend #GoneButNeverForgotten ♬ Purple Rain - Prince & The Revolution

@toddswank Mystic Lake Amphitheater looks to be mostly complete and ready to open in June 2026. Are you ready to rock? #mysticlake #amphitheater #concerts #shakopee ♬ son original - ELNOSMILE

A Beach Wedding in Destin for Joel & Jen

noreply@blogger.com (Todd Swank) — Mon, 20 Apr 2026 02:50:00 +0000

A Beach Wedding in Destin for Joel & Jen

Todd Swank's Diary Entry for April 19, 2026

Thanks to everyone who’s been checking in on my mom. Her hip replacement surgery went really well, which was a huge relief. She did have a little extra excitement afterward when her heart decided to keep things interesting and she needed a pacemaker, but she handled it like a champ. She’s now back in rehab, working hard to figure out her new hip, and if all goes as planned, we’re hoping she’ll be back home in a couple of weeks. At this point we’re convinced the prayers are working… so maybe don’t stop now.

Last week Miss Sheri and I flew down to Destin, Florida to celebrate the wedding of our old friends Joel and Jen. Not a bad place to watch two people say “I do”… especially when it involves white sand, blue water, and a guy walking around with a guitar like he’s ready to turn the whole thing into a Jimmy Buffett concert at any moment.

Joel and I went to high school together in Clear Lake, Iowa, and we’ve somehow managed to stay friends ever since. That’s pushing close to 40 years now… which is impressive considering most people tap out on me in under 20. So when the wedding invitation showed up, I was honestly just relieved to see I was still on the list.

Joel and Jen rented out a massive house right on Miramar Beach to host the wedding and reception. Pool, hot tub, the ocean steps away, and somehow enough space to sleep 22 people without anyone ending up in a closet. Miss Sheri and I played it safe and stayed in a condo down the beach… but we made sure to show up here every day and night like we actually lived there.

Jen comes from a big family… like a dozen siblings big, plus another 20 friends who all showed up for the wedding. Which meant I suddenly had about 35 new names to learn in a weekend. At this stage of life, that’s less “meeting people” and more “running a full-time memory experiment.” I tried every trick in the book… and when that failed, I just smiled confidently and hoped nobody asked me to prove it.

One name I did know was Joel’s brother Jake. Jake was born when we were in high school, so he was just a little guy back then. He’s much bigger now… which, to be fair, is exactly what you hope happens, so thank God he grew.

I also got to see Joel’s kids, Nathaniel and Mayah, who somehow went from being little kids to looking like they have agents, brand deals, and a skincare routine worth more than my first car. They’ve grown up like crazy and both looked absolutely great.

We couldn’t come to Florida and not go on at least one critter adventure, so we snuck away for a dolphin cruise at AJ’s in Destin. Somehow we managed to spot dolphins like professionals, which I’m pretty sure just means they showed up and we took credit for it. We stuck around for lunch afterward, and the Bang Bang Shrimp lived up to the name… not because it was spicy, but because it disappeared so fast it sounded like a small explosion at our table.

We had such a great time on the AJ’s dolphin cruise with Daniel and Cody on the Seascape. Perfect mix of everything… we saw a pod of dolphins, ripped around the gulf at full speed, and somehow the drinks never stopped coming. Hard-working crew, great energy, and honestly one of the best 90 minutes you can spend in Destin.

We also made a point to hit a few state parks and beaches in search of more critters. This sign pretty much sums up the experience… “alligators are dangerous” feels like the kind of reminder you don’t really need, but appreciate once you’re standing there staring at the water. We did spot a couple way off in the distance, which was perfect, because we love the idea of going “gator hunting” right up until the moment one decides to get a little closer.

One of the park rangers walked up carrying this little guy like it was just another day on the job. She said it was a leatherback turtle and she was relocating him to the lake after he kept trying to cross the road… not exactly a winning strategy. I immediately asked if I could pet him on the nose, which she very calmly shut down. Probably a good call… I’m already operating with a limited finger inventory.

Eventually it was time to head back to the beach for the ceremony, and honestly, they couldn’t have picked a more beautiful place to get married. The weather was perfect, the water looked amazing, and everything about it felt like one of those weddings people pretend not to compare future weddings to. The only flaw was that it involved sand, which of course immediately found its way into my shoes and set up permanent residence. Other than that, absolutely perfect.

One of Jen’s friends officiated the ceremony and did a really nice job. It was great hearing Joel and Jen talk about how much they love each other and how happy they’ve been since they found their way together… you could just see it on both of them the whole time.

What really stood out was seeing all of their kids up there as part of the ceremony. Not just showing up, but fully in it… smiling, supporting, and clearly happy for them. That part felt pretty special.

Miss Sheri and I were so glad we made the trip to celebrate Joel and Jen… and we’re also at that empty nester stage where getting away like this feels pretty great too. Let’s just say if any other friends happen to fall in love and get married somewhere warm and beautiful, we’ll do our best to show up and support you as well

Sunday after the wedding we decided to drive over to Panama City Beach to check out a few parks and beaches, and accidentally stumbled into an airshow. Turns out we weren’t the only ones with that brilliant idea… pretty much the entire state of Florida had the same plan.

We got to see the Thunderbirds, which was a first for me. I’m not exaggerating when I say they scared the living hell out of us when they first came roaring in like America had decided to personally kick down the sky. Once my nervous system recovered, it was incredible to watch. The speed, precision, and control of those

F-16s was unbelievable, and the whole thing was one of the coolest parts of the trip.

Before we knew it, our Florida vacation came to an end. With a couple hours to kill before our flight, we stopped at the Air Force museum next to the Destin airport and I was pleasantly surprised by how many cool exhibits they had. At this point in life I’m starting to think I might want to be a jet pilot when I grow up… just need to work on a few minor details.

@toddswank A nice day with AJ’s Dolphin Cruise in Destin, Florida. #dolphin #cruise #destin #florida ♬ Danger - SoundAudio

@toddswank The Thunderbirds flew over Panama City Beach yesterday and made the rest of us look like we’re barely committed to our jobs. Absolute maniacs. Gorgeous, deafening, highly recommended. #PanamaCityBeach #Thunderbirds #AirShow #Florida ♬ The Face of Victory - Music4video

@toddswank The new Club M at Mystic Lake is going to look amazing… like Vegas and Prior Lake had a very shiny baby. #MysticLake #ClubM #Casino #PriorLake ♬ 原创音乐 - s.santehnika

@toddswank Some of our best clips from the Thunderbirds performance at the Panama City Beach air show last weekend. #airforce #thunderbirds #f16 #airshow ♬ sonido original - Uncle Sam 🇺🇸

@toddswank Free Bird starring the Thunderbirds! #airshow #thunderbirds #freebird ♬ Free Bird - Lynyrd Skynyrd

@toddswank Forty years of knowing Joel, and this was my first time hearing him sing. We’re in Destin celebrating his wedding weekend with Jen, and I’ve got to say… the love of a good woman can bring out something special in a man. Happy for both of them. #Destin #Florida #WeddingWeekend #LiveMusic #GoodWoman ♬ original sound - Todd Swank

Easter 2026: I Used to Hunt Eggs… Now I Watch My Blood Sugar

noreply@blogger.com (Todd Swank) — Sun, 05 Apr 2026 23:57:00 +0000

Easter 2026: I Used to Hunt Eggs… Now I Watch My Blood Sugar

Todd Swank's Diary Entry for April 5, 2026

Tuesday night we got together with Sheri’s college friend Cathy Klimek and her husband Jeff to celebrate Cathy’s birthday from earlier. Somewhere between drinks and dinner, the conversation turned into what every Minnesota night eventually becomes… complaining about the Vikings, the Twins, and the weather pretending it’s spring. Just a steady rotation of things that look promising right up until they don’t.

Luke had his 6-month checkup with Dr. Leise at Mayo, and it was exactly what we were hoping for… uneventful. In our world, “nothing changed” is basically a standing ovation. You get the good news, exhale a little, and then spend the rest of the visit just catching up like you’re not in a medical office at all. Dr. Leise is one of those guys who makes that easy too. Good at his job and just a genuinely good dude.

Easter morning started bright and early with a visit to see Grandma Linda at rehab. We briefly considered hiding an Easter basket for her, then remembered she’s in a wheelchair and decided maybe this wasn’t the year to test her agility. So we kept it simple, hung out, and enjoyed some time together instead.

Her hip replacement is scheduled for Tuesday, so we’d appreciate any prayers or positive thoughts for a smooth surgery and a quick return home.

We wrapped up Easter with the boys at a contemporary church service, then headed to brunch at Legends Golf Club, which did not disappoint. Great food, good company, and one of those mornings that just felt easy. Abby couldn’t make it since she was working and flying home from Amsterdam, although she was kind enough to send pictures of herself standing in perfectly blooming tulip fields… so it’s possible we were the ones who made the wrong Easter plans.

Happy Easter Everyone!

@toddswank Autonomous wheelchairs at Mayo Clinic… so naturally I tested it like an idiot. Turns out it reacts faster than half the drivers on 35W. The future’s here, and it’s already safer than us. #AI #Robotics #FutureIsNow #Minnesota #TechHumor ♬ BMX - CLOWNY BEATZZ

@toddswank After Tiger’s latest adventure, this might be the most believable sponsorship of his career. Pour. Drive. Repeat. #TigerWoods #GolfTok #BrewDriver #SportsComedy #Golf ♬ original sound - Todd Swank

@toddswank Mystic Lake is changing fast. Had to stop and imagine what this expansion is going to look like when it’s finally done. #MysticLake #Shakopee #Casino #Construction #PriorLake ♬ Timeless - Franksille