Columns – Page 6 – Dustin Monke

A presidential race without any winners

Like me, you’re probably getting sick of hearing about a presidential election still 17 months away.

Maybe that’s because, so far, the options have been pretty bad. None of the candidates throwing their hat in the ring are in any way captivating or world-changing, and no one has put forward a true vision for our country’s future.

Longtime readers know I’ve never been Obama’s biggest fan. But I’ll always acknowledge his ability to be presidential when he absolutely needs to be, and I respect how he stands up for his ideals and vision — whether or not I agree with him.

Not one candidate — Republican or Democrat — has displayed a truly presidential quality the American people want and need as we gear up for what’s sure to be the most talked-about election in history. Some look good on paper, others on TV. A few speak really well and know how to fi re up their base.

But are any of them actually presidential material?

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Stop trashing our town and pick up your $#!+

No one has ever considered me a hippie environmentalist. But if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s people who treat the land like it’s one big trash can.

Growing up on the farm, it was pointed out to me from a young age that my grandpa wanted the farm to look clean. The grass was always to be kept cut and neat, machinery was parked in rows or in a shed, garbage was meant for the can and junk shouldn’t be left sitting around.

I often wish some people I encounter around Dickinson would have grown up in a similar atmosphere, where lessons about cleanliness and respect for the community and land sometimes go out the window — quite literally in one case.

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One year down, forever to go

A year ago today, I got married.

The first year, it is said, can either be the easiest or the hardest. Like anyone else, Sarah and I have our ups and downs. We have our good and bad days. But, we’re better together because of all of it.

Together, we’re still learning what makes a healthy marriage.

Because we lived together for about two years before we were married, we were already well aware of each other’s habits, ticks and boiling points. We each know when the other needs time alone — even if I still don’t always take the hint — and we know when one of us needs a lift either physically or emotionally.

Despite our busy lives — she’ll say I’m the only real busy one — we still make it a point to eat supper together every night, spend time together on Saturday mornings and go to church as often as we can on Sundays. We try and do this regardless of whether or not some days don’t go as planned.

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A generation stuck in transition

I was born in 1984. It was the year in which George Orwell set his classic dystopian novel of the same name. In reality, Big Brother didn’t come around until a few years later. (That’s another column for another time.)

Instead, the world got the “Ghostbusters,” George Michael and four more years of Ronald Reagan. Oh, and let’s not forget me and millions of other newborns.

Today, a little more than three decades later, the children of the early ’80s are an interesting bunch. Some of us are well into raising the next generation of Americans — the so-called “Boomlets” — while others are still raising hell.

In North Dakota, our age group — at least on the surface — is doing well. We are fortunate to be in an area where jobs are plentiful and pay well. Many of our peers throughout the country can’t say the same.

However, there’s one thing we should all be able to agree on: we are a generation without a classification.

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