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Tom Mischke
Hey, Garage Logic fans.
Tommy Mischke
I do a podcast on the Garage Logic Network that comes out every Wednesday and Friday. Now twice a week. But here's an important caveat. There is zero logic available in my show. In the formal definition of logic, of.
Tom Mischke
Course, life is a yin and yang kind of thing.
Tommy Mischke
There's the logic side, and then there's the what the hell? Side, which needs to get its exercise. So come for the what the hell? And stay for the.
Tom Mischke
You've got to be kidding me.
Tommy Mischke
Mishki. Now, Wednesdays and Fridays, twice a week.
Tom
What on earth is gonna happen on this program? Well, it's gonna get weird. I cannot do anything about that.
Tom Mischke
You people just have to bear with me. Get ready now. My name's Mish. The following program is from an experience I had a while ago, an experience of being stranded in a small cabin in northern Minnesota, snowed in. I want you to know right now that to this day, I'm not sure what to make of it. I'm not sure what parts of it were real and what parts of it were hallucinogenic presentations that appeared in my state of delirium, Sleepless, hungry, cold. It was an adventure. But what kind of an adventure I cannot say with certainty. I could only say it was the strangest experience of my life. I want to deliver it to you in two uninterrupted segments. I think it's important that I do that for the sake of the flow of this particular story. So I want to take the first break early, allowing you to sit back and listen to the rest of the hour. This program is not for everyone. What you will hear in this story of me being stranded up north is highly unusual. I do not pretend to understand it. I can only pass along to you that it happened. Part of me says I should have kept this all to myself. Part of me feels that in telling it, maybe I can learn something about myself, about the strangeness of existence, about the mind and the tricks it plays on all of us, how deprivation can wreak havoc on a person. So a quick break, dear listeners, and then the story of my mysterious and otherworldly stretch in that bitter cold up north. My God, I feel for you all at what I'm forcing you to take in. And it begins momentarily. Right now, an ad for Bradshaw and Bryant. Have you been beaten, bruised, battered, bludgeoned, bombed, broken, bashed, bulldozed, blasted, blistered, belted, bullied, besieged, brutalized? Boy, oh, boy, that's bad. You need Bradshaw and br.
Tommy Mischke
Buddy. Bradshaw and Bryant. Bob Bradshawn.
Tom Mischke
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Tom
I'm Father O'. Malley.
Tom Mischke
Bless you, my son. What sins do you bring today? Well, Padre, I told my wife the furnace sounds were just the sounds of it settling. And were they? No. The furnace was making noises I'd never heard in my life. How cold is your house? We're all wearing ski jackets at the dinner table, Padre. My kids are doing their homework inside sleeping bags. Have you heard of Minneapolis St. Paul plumbing, heating and Air? They have been around since long, long before Vatican ii. Every parishioner I know uses them. MSP has saved more marriages than I have. Call MSP before your wife confesses to me about your replacement. Minneapolis St. Paul Plumbing, Heating and Air. Because some problems out there need more than your prayer.
Tom
This is day three. I've been snowed in up here in northern Minnesota for three full days. Wind chill is at 40 below. Over 29 inches of snow have fallen out there already and it's still coming down. I'm inside my friend's granddaddy's hunting shack, which never gets used anymore because Gramps is in a nursing home over in Two Harbors. I asked if I could use the old guy's place for a little weekend retreat, and this is what I get. I was just gonna grab a book and a little bit of food and water and create a little retreat for myself. Away from all the news, all the bad news out there, away from all the. All the bustle and the hustle of the big city, away from humanity. I drove down the half mile long old dirt driveway here on a gloriously sunny, rather mild day, planning to shut out all the news of late and just go inward, spend time with myself, close off the outside world. I've been doing quite a bit of that lately, and it looks like this time it cost me. I didn't hear anything about a storm coming. I didn't keep myself in the loop. I was supposed to be out of here three days ago right at the end of the weekend. But that's when the blizzard started kicking in and, man, it has been a historic one. My guess is it's bigger than the Armistice Day blizzard back in 1940, or even the children's blizzard of 1888.
Tom Mischke
You know about that one at all?
Tom
It was 35 degrees when those kids headed off to school in the morning. That's light jacket weather here in the Midwest. But by the end of the school day, an astonishing drop in the temperature, a huge increase in the winds and white out snowfall meant going home would be hell. But the teachers in those schoolhouses, they sent the kids home at the end of the day anyway. And I cannot even talk about the toll from that storm without crying. Then there was the great Appalachian blizzard. That was 1950. The Knickerbocker Blizzard, 1921. The White Hurricane, 1913. I don't know what they're gonna call this one. When all is said and done. I just say that a livid Lord is laying it down as only a livid Lord can. This has got to be God's wrath, folks. Wrath. Wrath by itself is a great name for a blizzard. Wrath. It's short, taut, solid. Good word. Anyone use that anywhere in the weather history books? What are you looking at out the window there, Earl? Quaath, Ethel. Nothing but wrath as far as the eye can see, Ethel. We ain't gonna survive this one. None of us are. All right, Earl. Then I'll make the coffee. We'll go down sipping the java. Ain't that the finest way for a northerner to die? With a little lightning in the mug? Just sit down in the snow, take a sip and meet your maker. Reminds me of the fella from the Donner party. Remember the Donner Party? Speaking of great blizzards. My lord. That was 1846. 81. Pioneers from the east heading west across the Rockies, looking for a better life. Families, old people, young kids. They were told of a shortcut by someone who didn't know what the hell they were talking about. And it was way too late in the fall to be heading into those Rocky Mountains. You know what happened, right? It's a famous story. They got trapped in those mountains. Winter came on fast and furiously and a little early trapped them there in huge snow drifts. None of them were going to be able to go anywhere till early spring. They messed up. They weren't prepared for this. Half of them ended up dying. But one guy took it with grace and aplomb. A fellow named Dutton. Word has it Mr. Dutton realized he wasn't going to survive this. And simply sat down in the snow, lit his pipe, smoked it and died without complaint. I always liked that. The pipe part mostly. But also sitting in the snow, the dying thing is kind of a drag. But the peaceful resignation, the no complaint that's kind of refreshing. Of course, if you know anything about the Donner Party, named after their elected leader, George Donner, these folks are rather famous for having resorted to cannibalism to make it through that winter. There was a drawing of straws to see who would be eaten so that others could survive.
Tom Mischke
I've always felt a little bad for Pat Dolan.
Tom
Pat Dolan was the first guy to.
Tom Mischke
Get the short straw. That's how Pat Dolan of Iowa ended.
Tom
Up in the history books.
Tommy Mischke
What are we having for supper tonight, Ma? We're having old Pat Dolan, sweetie. Bachelor farmer from Iowa. That's what's on the menu. We didn't want it to be this way. Of course. Pat has always been a good neighbor, but tonight he's gonna be a good meal. And that's the next best thing. So I hope he takes some solace in that. That's not what Pat wanted for this life. I realize that when he was first reaching his teen years, he had dreams of doing something else with his life rather than becoming a menu item for the Donner party. This country contains a whole lot of different dreams, sonny boy. Dreams of a lot of different men. And those dreams have been varied and lofty over the years. But rare has been the dream of one day winding up on a plate below the smiling face of a member of the Donner party. Pat Dolan had higher hopes. I know that at the very, very least, he had hoped to be one of the people eating the dinner tonight. But Pat drew the short straw. And I mean short straw, like few men before him have drawn a short straw. Probably the shortest straw anyone's ever drawn. That's what Pat got now. We're all gonna end up underground one day, kids. That's just the way it is. That fate waits for all of us when we die. But Pat's underground ultimately will be the floor of our outdoor biffy. And that's an underground that carries indignities no man should know. Pat's final resting place is just not up to the hype and promise of his birth. So many years ago. Coming into this world, Pat Dolan was a pink and milky white, healthy little infant ready to take the world by storm. That's how he came in. And how's he going out? Storming out of our backsides into a makeshift outhouse pit, that's how. The least we can all do is include him in our table blessing here and thank him for his sacrifice. Oh, Pat Dolan, you were our friend. But that relationship has come to an end. I'm sorry that we got so chummy it makes it hard to say, gosh, you're yummy when we took your life Were we too hasty? Were we wrong for wanting something tasty? Tomorrow you enter our descending colon. But tonight, what wine goes with Pat Dolan?
Tom
You talk to yourself quite a bit. When you're alone for an extended period of time, snowed in for days, you have so much time to think, but most of the time, all you're thinking about is just staying warm. You think about fire a lot. Keeping the fire going, watching the fire, checking the fire, getting close to the fire, worrying about the fire, pondering fire itself, feeling so very grateful for fire, wondering where fire and man first met. Fire is so very different from the other classical elements of earth, air and water. Earth was always here with the people. Water was always here with the people. Air was always here with the people. But fire wasn't. Some days in those ancient times, there would be no fire. They were breathing the air, drinking the water, walking the earth, but there was no fire. This is what sets fire apart from the rest of those elements. Then suddenly one day, there would be a lightning strike, and something would catch on fire. And the people would see it and be in awe. They would see it there and they'd want to hang on to it, keep it with them somehow, but it would burn out until they finally learned how to create it themselves, which didn't happen for a very long time. That's why in Greek mythology, there is no God stealing the water to give to the people, or stealing the air or soil to give to the people. But there is a God stealing fire to give to the people. Prometheus steals it from Zeus and gives it to the people. That's how we got fire. It wasn't an automatic like the other classical elements. It had to be swiped from a deity. And a deity who got really, really pissed off. So angry, in fact, that he chained Prometheus to a rock and ordered an.
Tommy Mischke
Eagle to peck out his liver.
Tom
That's when you know you're angry. When you react that way, you know how you know you're really angry? You have that liver regenerate overnight and.
Tom Mischke
Then order the eagle to peck out.
Tommy Mischke
That liver once again.
Tom
And you know how you can tell when you're just absolutely raging? You make sure that scenario plays out for all of eternity. Poor Prometheus. Hey, Zeus. It was just fire, man. There was more where that came from. Cut the guy some slack. He felt compassion for humanity. How is that such a sin? You are overreacting, man. Zeus obviously had some anger issues. You wonder what the Greek gods had set up in the way of therapy. Surely there was someone Zeus could have seen for all that rage. A psychologist of some sort. Zeus, I'm going to try a guided meditation on you. And I want you to just follow along. I want you to close your eyes and feel where in your body this anger can be felt physically. Then I want you to see if you can get in touch with it and ask it to give you an image of some sort, something that you can see. Is it your dad? Did he hurt you? Zeus, anger is a man's reaction to hurt. He doesn't want to say he's hurt because that would show vulnerability. So he chooses anger, which seems to indicate strength, but in fact just reveals there is a little boy in all of us who can still be so terribly wounded. Like you were, Zeus, when you were young, was it Christmas time? You wanted a Barbie, didn't you? And your dad said Barbies were for girls. And he struck you. He was wrong, Zeus. He wasn't allowing you to be who you were. But you must forgive him and know that he too was wounded. A wounded man. Like so many wounded men out there. Zeus. Zeus, why? Why are you tying me to a rock? This. This isn't how this is supposed to go.
Tommy Mischke
Zeus, where did that eagle come from? Oh, my liver.
Tom
Oh, my liver.
Tom Mischke
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Tommy Mischke
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Tom Mischke
A security and investment advisor.
Jeff from Chicago
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Tom Mischke
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Tom
It's now day four and it's after sundown and I'm still here.
Jeff from Chicago
In the.
Tom
Dark with this fire snow still coming down. Not nearly as much as the last three days. It's coming down lightly and the winds have died down a bit. They have a couple of these small new fangled snowshoes hanging on the wall. I shoveled the snow away from my door so I can get out. I really do need to get out of here. Not that I expect to be able to get home, but I've been going mad sitting in this tiny cabin. It's just one room, no electricity, no running water. There's an outhouse that I've been able to get to, but it hasn't seen much tender loving care in the last few decades, that's for sure. Here in this tiny shack, I've still got some wood. Not a lot. Maybe enough for one more day. Then things are going to get interesting anyway, My dreams last night were all about fire. I dreamed I was in a big house in St. Paul that didn't have a smoke detector and I was so tired I couldn't keep my eyes open. But I knew when I fell asleep there was going to be a house fire and I was terrified because there would be no smoke alarm to wake me. And so I went down into the kitchen and I found a jar full of corn kernels and I came up with a plan to have corn kernels be my smoke alarm. I put a nail in the kitchen ceiling and I hung a pot of corn kernels from the nail. I figured when the fire came it would heat up the pot, the corn would start popping, making popcorn, and it would wake me and save me. But in my dream I died. I burned to death because I did not know there is only one specific variety of corn kernels that will actually make popcorn. All the others just burn the same as the kitchen and the ceiling and me. There are many popular varieties of corn cultivated here in the us but only one will actually pop. Did you know that? I did not. And thus I died. It's weird to die in your dreams, though. Because the next day, much like with Prometheus, you are intact once again, ready to live another day. In my next dream, you know what I'm going to hang from the ceiling? Firecrackers. Every single variety of firecrackers. Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop. I think you can tell that I need to get out of here. I've been going stir crazy. I actually do think I'm starting to lose my mind. That closet over there. I went into that closet in the middle of the night last night looking for a blanket. And I don't even want to tell you what happened when I opened the closet door. And I don't know if this is real or just me losing it from the solitary confinement. You know, they say after only 12 hours in solitary, if it's forced, a person can start experiencing adverse effects mentally. Just 12 hours. I'm trapped here four straight days now. But I'm gonna walk over to this closet here, and I'm gonna open it once again. I don't know how much is real anymore and how much I'm starting to hallucinate. I got very little sleep last night. Yep, there he is. He's like some sort of wax figure or something. I can't tell if he's real or not. Sir, what are you doing in there?
Jim Black
My name is Jim Black, and I love making people laugh.
Tom
Oh, God. Are you okay? Would you like to come out of there?
Jim Black
There's certainly not much to laugh about in our world today. And I love making people laugh.
Tom
I gotta get the hell out of this cabin. I don't care if it is nighttime. I'm gonna throw on those snowshoes over.
Tom Mischke
There and get out of here.
Tom
I gotta clear my. Sam, It's. Oh, God. This is awful.
Old Man
Thor did his gold.
Tom
Oh, God. You can't win. You stay cooped up in the cabin, you go mad. You start seeing old men in closets. You dream of hanging corn from the ceiling and burning to death. But you get outside for some fresh air and it's just painful. It's just painful. What the hell am I doing out here? I'm going back. I'm going back. Ah.
Jeff from Chicago
I can't go back there.
Tom
I can't go back into that hole.
Tom Mischke
Tom continued walking. His snowshoes made it relatively easy to.
Tom
Stay atop the snowfall. But where was he going? There was nothing out there but a dark world of seemingly endless wilderness. He didn't seem to know where he was going. He just couldn't take it in that cabin any longer. So he Walked and he walked.
Tom Mischke
And as he walked, much as the confinement of the cabin had begun to adversely affect his mind, the cold began to work its way deep into his thoughts. And the isolation in this foreign wilderness brought an encroaching fear that this little getaway would have no end. He had been walking over 45 minutes when this growing fear began to morph into something that seemed much more like terror. That was when he noticed a small glowing light in the distance. He wasn't sure what it was, but he moved toward it with a sense of sudden hope, a sense of urgency. The glow turned out to be a small campfire in the woods. A solitary figure was sitting next to the fire. As Tom got closer, he noticed that the figure appeared to be an older man. Oh, no. Not another old man.
Tom
Feeling exhausted, Tom walked up to the fire, staring in disbelief. But the man barely turned to notice him. He was wearing a long parka.
Tom Mischke
He had white hair. Long, a white beard. And he stared into the flames of.
Tom
His campfire, never looking at Tom.
Old Man
I'm out looking for my dog. His name is Wolverine. He's a little French poodle. He's tough to find. Not much bigger than a moose. Dung. I haven't seen him in two or three days. Of course, he's all white and that don't help none. And we've had a hell of a lot of snow. That makes it tough. Plus he has no bark. Can't even manage a whimper. He was born with a birth defect. Congenital laryngital paralysis, they call it. Couldn't make a single sound. Nothing at the puppy mill where they were going to euthanize him. I was a mailman then and delivered that day. A gave him a couple bucks and put the little guy in my satchel. Had him ever since. I don't like yippee dogs anyway. This one is quiet as a stone. Named him Wolverine because they too live in the northern Arctic regions. And they too are scavengers. They feed on what others leave behind and, well, as my little French poodle does, the same thing. Lives on what I leave behind. Or at least he did. I don't know if he's still alive. He lost his back two legs in a beaver trap last year. I had to amputate him. But I made little skis for his hind end. Tiny cross country type skis made from white pine. It ain't the best setup in the world, but he gets around. You know, this weather. Some like to say it keeps away the riff raff. Well, it keeps away a Lot more than. Than that. Keeps away the women, keeps away the friends. It keeps away damn near everything. This is the kind of world you come to willing to risk losing all the things you love. I don't know if Wolverine's alive or dead. I've lost other animals, animals I've loved. I had a. I had a Patagonia mara, a red river hog, a gambian pouch rat. Named them all Wolverine. They're all gone now. And I've done a lot of grieving. Some. Some say I have a peculiar way of grieving because I hurt myself. I hurt myself purposely. Cut myself, bruise myself, make fun of my weight, ridicule my big nose. If I'm gonna feel the pain, then I want to feel it deeply. Haul over, physical and emotional. I just want to pour it on. All of it. As in, okay, world. You want me to suffer while then, God damn, I'll suffer. And when it becomes absolutely overwhelming, when I can barely take it anymore, when I become the suffering itself and there's no longer anything but suffering, I bust through a kind of veil and reach a strange state of enlightenment. And suddenly I see the divinity in all things. That's when the grieving ends and the pain vanishes. And I'm ready to love again. Anyway, I sure wonder where Wolverine is tonight. For all I know, you're stepping on him. It's all right if you were. I mean, it'd be too late to save him anyways, so don't worry about it. See, my ex wife, Hattie, she couldn't have children. That's why we had all the pets. Oh, she. She could have had children. She just was told she couldn't by some religious group she belonged to the Hematites or the Pentegastals or Reformatarians. I don't remember something in that way. But anyway, they didn't believe in having children. Children. Dave felt the earth was so full of sin, it was wrong to bring children into the world. Best to go extinct. I never argued with her, but it sure got lonely at night. And bed. She slept in the attic just to make absolutely sure. We never had kids. And I. Well, I spent many a night wondering what it was like for other men. Men who fathered children. Some fellows told me once that raising kids was a pain in the ass. But making them with your gal actually making the babies, well, that was such a hoot. It kind of made it worth it. Well, I never felt that feeling. I never had no kids. So you can see why Wolverine means so much to me. And I'll start burning myself tonight. Yank a stick right out of the fire. Hold it to my bare hand till I feel the pain. Of all the dog owners in the world looking for their missing pets tonight. How many? Figure there are maybe tens of thousands, maybe more calling out for their wolverine. But most of those dogs ain't coming back. So I'll grieve for all those people. Yeah, it's a hell of a world out there. Lot of pain. Maybe those Pentegastal authoritarians. Maybe they were right. Maybe extinction is the answer. Well, I'm gonna go keep looking for my dog. You have a fine evening. Try to stay warm.
Tom Mischke
Tom stood by the fire, staring into the flames, feeling the warmth like a maternal embrace, aware of sensations coming back into his fingers, feeling the heat melt the icicle on his eyebrows, mustache and beard. Was that old man real? He had to be, didn't he? The fire was real. Someone had to have made that fire. Tom suddenly wondered why he had let the man go. Maybe the man had a way out of here. He quickly turned and walked in the direction the man had gone. But after a while the footsteps in the snow stopped and the man was nowhere to be found. And when Tom turned back toward the campfire, it too was gone. Tom ran back to where it had been, but there was nothing there. No flame, no embers, no ash. And yet he felt warmer. Much warmer. Something had warmed him up. Feeling more clear headed now, he decided to follow his own footsteps back to the hunting cabin. He couldn't let that cabin cool down. He couldn't let that fire go out. If he could get through the night, he thought, with the wood he had left, he could head out in the early morning looking for help. The snow had stopped now and the wind was dying down. Soon it would perhaps stop altogether. In the morning the sun might even be out. Everything would be easier then, clearer. The daylight would change everything. Tom walked with purpose now, following his tracks back from where he had come. But on the way back he saw that the wind had swept the snow over his tracks and he no longer could make out in the dark where he had stepped. He got lost. Lost. And when he realized he was lost, panic set in. He decided to run, though he had no idea in which direction he was running through the trees. He ran in the darkness for at least 20 minutes before suddenly, once again, spotting a light in the distance. This time he noticed the light was different. It wasn't a campfire. It was a white light moving about as if being directed. It was a flashlight, a figure walking with A flashlight. Exhausted but excited, Tom ran toward the light. But it took all of his energy to get near it. And as he did, he collapsed in the snow by the figure holding the flashlight.
Tommy Mischke
Hey.
Jeff from Chicago
I'm up from Chicago. Heard about these big snowstorms you guys have up this way.
Tommy Mischke
Wild blizzards.
Jeff from Chicago
I just had to come. I heard it on the weather channel. So I gassed up my Prius. I told my wife and kids, I said, I'll be home in a couple of days, gang. Gonna feel what it's like to be in the middle of the a midwinter tempest up in the frozen northern Minnesota tundra. Just like the old pioneers.
Tom
Who the hell are you?
Jeff from Chicago
I even brought mukaluks. Well, they're not really mukaluks. They're hushpubby midtowns. My wife, she sewed a little cloth on each of them right here, she takes a sewing class at Joann Fabrics with a couple of gals from their book club. Makes them look just like mukaluks.
Tom
What the hell are you?
Jeff from Chicago
Do you know who I've come to pattern myself after? Jeremiah Johnson. Remember that Robert Redford movie? I kind of fancy myself the Chicago version of Jeremiah Johnson. Challenging myself, living by my wits and whatever. My wife packed in the Prius. Last year I went on a tour bus. We went out to the Mojave Desert.
Tom
Church group, I think.
Jeff from Chicago
The year before that, I kayaked from one side of the Mississippi to the other. Wisconsin, over to Minnesota, me and my brother in law.
Tom
I gotta get home.
Jeff from Chicago
I've just thrown myself, totally thrown myself into extreme situations where the power of nature is so awe inspiring. I always bring a sketchbook with me. I've been taking some community ed classes in art. Been working on this one tonight. You can't tell really, but the little snowflake here, it's crashing into another even smaller snowflake. And the smaller one is screaming.
Tommy Mischke
Oh, God.
Jeff from Chicago
Yeah, ever since my accident, all the sketches involve things colliding.
Tom
Shut up.
Jeff from Chicago
They say that's how the entire universe formed, you know. Seriously, I heard that on Science Friday.
Tom
Shut up.
Jeff from Chicago
Public radio. I was in a coma from a bicycle accident. Got run over by my yoga teacher in the parking lot of a Lifetime Fitness. I ended up with a traumatic brain injury. I write poetry about these trips. Yeah, I'm not a Nobel prize winner or anything, but back in high school, I got a couple pieces published in the newspaper. High school paper? That was back in the 80s. I wrote one tonight. You want to hear it? It's cold. The wind is blowing. And the snow is falling. And according to my new iPhone, my wife Grace has been calling. It's lonely in the wilderness without her, but she's a mom, and she and my daughters are watching their favorite sitcom. That's okay. Sometimes a man needs to be on his own. Just him and Mother Nature and his trusty iPhone. Yeah, that's just one poem right there.
Tom
I got a bunch.
Jeff from Chicago
I'm gonna package them together. Thinking about putting together a book. I'm gonna call it Bravin the Elements. You know, she said if I can find service in this area, I can watch that sitcom on my phone tonight using Hulu. And we can text about it later. If I do, it's gonna be from a snow cave I plan to build tonight. First I gotta find my mittens, though. I lost both of them.
Tom
I gotta get out of here. Get out of here.
Tom Mischke
He never found his way back to that hunting shack that night. He never got close to pointed in the right direction. But he had been given a gift from that storm. Jeff Chicago, guy with a brain injury. That guy had said he was gonna build a snow cave later on. And that was something Tom would not have thought of on his own. And the idea may have saved his life, for he built himself a snow cave that night. And he crawled inside. And in the relative warmth of that cave, away from the elements, he fell into a deep, deep sleep. And he dreamed once again, though this time not about fire. No. He had the second dream of his life involving Alex Jones. Alex Jones, the far right conspiracy theorist. He came into Tom's dream. I mentioned it was the second time. The first time was two years earlier when Tom had had too much so milk one evening. There was Alex Jones that night in his dreams, asking Tom to join him in his battle against the alien reptilians who were colonizing Earth. Mostly through eggs implanted in Hillary Clinton. Tom had sworn off soy milk after that, but he had had a little bit earlier on this day. And it cost him once more in his dream. Yes, in his slumber, he found himself wandering through a snowy landscape in a blizzard. Lost, scared.
Tom
And who did he run into?
Tom Mischke
Alex Jones.
Tom
This feels awesome. Fantastic. I'm out here bathing in the night. That's what it's all about. I don't need drugs. Feels so good to break free from the Matrix. It feels so good to be alive. And it feels so good to just.
Alien Entity
Feel my humanity rising.
Tom
It's the going out and the freezing and all these instincts.
Alien Entity
Yeah, living.
Tom
Oh, God.
Tom Mischke
It was dawn when Tom kicked open the side of his snow cave and emerged into the morning air. The sun rising brilliantly in the east, the clouds now gone from the sky. Sure as the darkness. It was a new day. The Alex Jones nightmare. The strange encounters of the previous evening. That was all behind him now. In the morning light, he could see something shimmering on the horizon. It appeared to be a small building. It was a weekday. He would no doubt find people there and be rescued from his long ordeal. The bizarre odyssey that had started a week ago when he had driven up on a Friday only to be unable to get out late Sunday afternoon. He felt free, A weight off his shoulders. He ran toward the building, smiling, tears welling up in his eyes. But as he got closer, he realized it wasn't a building. It was some kind of craft from outer space.
Tom
What the hell?
Alien Entity
We mean you no harm. We are under orders to take you home.
Tom
What?
Alien Entity
Please stand still. We are bringing you on board now.
Tommy Mischke
No, I don't want to go on board.
Tom
Holy shit. Where am I?
Alien Entity
Make yourself comfortable.
Tom
Oh my God.
Tom Mischke
Oh my God.
Alien Entity
This is your room. We will have you home shortly.
Tom
No, no, no, no, no, no.
Alien Entity
Your vehicle is already on board.
Tommy Mischke
What is happening?
Alien Entity
As are your belongings from the cabin.
Tom
I can't believe this.
Alien Entity
Our Earth based commander, Captain James Black, signaled us this morning saying you had not returned to your cabin and were perhaps in need of our services.
Tommy Mischke
Your Earth based commander. How does he know whether. Who's he? How does he know whether I got home last night?
Alien Entity
You can ask him yourself. He is in the adjacent room. I will open the door.
Jim Black
My name is Jim Black. I love making people laugh. Jesus, there's not much to laugh about in our world today. And I love making people laugh. This fourth grade teacher had this group of kids. She said, when you answer roll call, use your name in a little poem.
Tom
I want to leave.
Jim Black
First little boy gets up and says, my name is Dan. When I grow up to be a man, I'd like to go to Japan. Good job, Dan. Little girl gets up and says, my name is Sadie. When I grow up to be a lady, I'd like to have a baby. Good Sadie. Next little boy gets up and says, my name is Sam. When I grow up to be a man. I'd like to help Sadie with her plan.
Tom
Somebody help me.
Alien Entity
Captain Black makes me laugh.
Tom Mischke
They were looking for a place for their mother. Their sister found the first one. Nice paintings. Someone playing piano. Every day at 3 o' clock, she walked past the independent living area. People playing cards and laughing. She walked past assisted living a bit quieter and then way in the back. The sister opened a door and she heard, this is our memory care area. Ten people sitting in a circle staring at a tv. The director smiled. We do trivia on Thursdays, the sister thought. My mom has a PhD in linguistics trivia on Thursdays. The Wellshire doesn't do the lobby with the piano thing. When you walk in, you walk into a world. A beautiful world. Four separate neighborhoods designed for the four different stages of memory care. Because the person who still reads the newspaper every morning shouldn't be living in the same place with someone who can't find the bathroom. The Wellshire Memory Care center of Bloomington and Medina. They're not doing a few things adequately. They're doing one thing right. Taking care of your loved one. Folks, I have not been to Northern Minnesota since that trip, and I don't plan to ever go back there. Certainly not in the winter. But you feel free to give it a try if you'd like. See how it goes for you. Get yourself a cabin in the woods. See where life takes you. See where your mind goes. Maybe you're built of stronger stuff, I don't know. But me, I don't ever want to go through anything like that again the rest of my life. The jury is out on whether I should have told this story or whether I should have kept this private and very personal experience. Private and personal. Too late now. Too late now.
Episode Date: December 27, 2025
Host: Tom “Mischke” Mischke
Podcast Network: Gamut Podcast Network
In “Snowed In,” Tommy Mischke delivers an off-kilter, semi-autobiographical, darkly comedic, and surreal tale of being stranded alone in a northern Minnesota hunting cabin during a historic blizzard. The episode abandons linear storytelling and conventional “logic,” instead plunging listeners into a meandering, often hallucinatory narrative. Mischke reflects on survival, isolation, the tricks the mind plays, fire, mythology, American lore, and the curious margins between reality, memory, and delusion. Rooted in the tradition of storytelling, the episode unfolds as both a deeply personal adventure and a playful send-up of Minnesota weather lore, existential dread, and the sometimes absurd lengths people go to understand themselves and their world.
Quote:
“There’s the logic side, and then there’s the ‘what the hell?’ side, which needs to get its exercise. So come for the ‘what the hell?’ and stay for the ‘you’ve gotta be kidding me.’” – Tommy Mischke (00:18)
Quote:
“This has got to be God’s wrath, folks. Wrath. Wrath by itself is a great name for a blizzard. Wrath. It’s short, taut, solid. Good word.” – Tom Mischke (08:30)
Memorable Moment:
Quote:
“There is a god stealing fire to give to the people. Prometheus steals it from Zeus...” – Tom Mischke (16:50)
“You wonder what the Greek gods had set up in the way of therapy. Surely there was someone Zeus could have seen for all that rage.” – Tommy Mischke (18:15)
Quote:
“I actually do think I’m starting to lose my mind. That closet over there... I don’t even want to tell you what happened when I opened the closet door.” – Tom Mischke (25:51)
Quote:
“Of all the dog owners in the world looking for their missing pets tonight... but most of those dogs ain't coming back. So I’ll grieve for all those people.” – Old Man (39:54)
Memorable Exchange:
“I always bring a sketchbook with me... the little snowflake here, it’s crashing into another even smaller snowflake. And the smaller one is screaming.” – Jeff from Chicago (45:38)
“Shut up.” – Tom Mischke (46:00, 46:06)
Quote:
“We mean you no harm. We are under orders to take you home.” – Alien Entity (52:11)
“I can’t believe this.” – Tom Mischke (53:06)
Quote:
“Too late now. Too late now.” – Tom Mischke (Final line)
Mischke’s tone oscillates between self-deprecating, absurdist, philosophical, unnerved, and absurdly comic. The humor often comes from deadpan delivery, exaggerated Minnesota stoicism, dark punchlines (“What wine goes with Pat Dolan?” 14:35), and melancholy absurdity (“Storming out of our backsides into a makeshift outhouse pit…” 13:45). Surreal encounters—closet wax figures, campfire philosophers, and benevolent aliens—blend horror and comedy with melancholic sincerity.
If you’ve ever wondered what it’s like to endure the Minnesota winter alone, descend into the strange caverns of your own psyche, and come out—possibly abducted by aliens—this Mischke odyssey is as close as a podcast gets.