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Harry is an information omnivore. Over 19 years he written about every topic on the list to the right. For more, use this blog’s search function (upper right). Or email Harry a question here: harrywelty@charter.net. Or ask any AI engine to summarize Harry Welty. Or give him a 3 minute listen. Or read Harry’s campaign flyer. Or google “Harry Welty’s snow sculptures”.


My “emotional intelligence” tells me that I should carefully edit my blog’s posts so people can’t dismiss my mistakes as part of a careless personality. It also tells me that discerning people will skip over my mistakes to look at the larger picture.
I penned about four posts yesterday. Some I reviewed and edited. Others I didn’t. I spent some serious time on the last post Mr. Smith Goes to Washington because the issue of my being censured by my school board could easily be turned against me. My bringing it up now with a month to go in a campaign that would give me my fourth term on the School Board might be considered risky. That few people read blogs any more, let alone mine, suggests I have little to fear. It takes little courage to scream into a pillow.
And its not new news. All it takes in a google search or a peak into this blog. I pretty much keep my life an open book. After enough time goes by I even let people peek at my children. Years after my children escaped Duluth I included them in revealing anecdotes about my life. Here’s one on my son, now a 40 year old physicist living out state. Here’s one of my daughter, still in Duluth but armed with the respect and devotion of countless people. Heck, here’s one about my old cat.
I chose the title of this post early this morning while I let my broken back (a gross overstatement) keep me from church. I was thinking about editing yesterday’s posts when I was distracted by the several hundred photos in rotation on an electronic picture frame. They were old photos from 2010 to 2012. They are the next generation I hope to spare from too much embarrassment as I point fingers at the servile obsequiousness of Republicans to an all-powerful nincompoop.
I took the shot above to show you the state of my desk. I take thousands of photos a year with my cell phone and usually cull the less photogenic ones. This one shows a grandson running by flowers in our back patio. That gamin has just graduated from high school.
I care about kids. They should not have to depend on craven cowards to run this nation. As I’ve written elsewhere on this blog, I’ve never been anything like that as a member of our Duluth School Board. Hell, I voted for my own censure……although, like my broken back, my offense was more technical foul than felony.
I have caused my better half 51 years of stress by running for political office 21 times. She has had three weeks of gratuitous worry over my falling from my garage rafters. She knows I want to rush my healing to pass out literature while there are still four weeks to campaign. Today I walked three blocks away from my house and back. I need more healing. In one of my last school board campaigns I walked in excess of 30,000 daily steps for weeks until I got planter’s fasciitis an could barely stand. Today’s six block walk and my traipsing around my house has me at 3,184 steps. DAMN!
Once my wife told me in a heart-to-heart that she thought I knew myself better than almost anyone else she knew. I’ve never checked to see if she’s changed her mind because that was the best compliment she ever paid me. I don’t want to learn that she has had second thoughts. If she’s right you can be sure that what you read in Lincolndemocrat.com is straight from my heart not withstanding the occasional joke.
When I got home from my odyssey this morning a neighbor walking her dog stopped to chat with me. She had heard about my injury and I made sure to tell her I had broken my back three weeks ago. She winced and told me to take care of myself because she was rooting for me to take after Pete Stauber again next year. I’ll give that more thought after I see how this school board race turns out.
