Sunset here in Sauk Centre: no ducks, just a nice photo. (August 20, 2026)
Ducks haven’t been a major part of my life, but our paths have crossed now and again.
Once, for example, I was driving north of Moorhead, Minnesota on — I’m not sure what its name was then. These days it’s called 57th Avenue N, CSAH 22, or 40th Avenue N; depending on which stretch of pavement you’re on.
Anyway, on its way toward the Red River,the road went through a cluster of homes. It was like those housing developments that popped up after WWII. Except that the houses weren’t all alike, and there were trees.
I gather this is because folks had built their homes piecemeal. Most of them apparently liked trees, and had varying notions of what their house should look like.
It wasn’t a monument to urban design, but I liked the result. Particularly compared to what happens when a developer clear-cuts land, plops housing units on what’s left, and I’m drifting off-topic.
Just Me and Some Ducks
This particular duck encounter happened when I was still living in Moorhead. I’d been driving to Fargo and decided to take the long way, on — whatever the road was called.
I was still driving between fields, maybe a thousand feet from the houses and trees, when I saw something in the middle of the road. It was a duck, waddling deliberately down the road’s centerline.
So there I was, sharing a road with a duck. With decisions to make.
It’s not the sort of situation discussed in the Minnesota Driver’s Manual. Not specifically, at any rate. So I was on my own, without official guidance, facing a duck.
There wasn’t anyone else in sight, just me and the duck.
I stopped the car and watched the duck. And my rear-view mirror, of course: so I wouldn’t be blocking the road for someone else.
As soon as I stopped, the duck turned its head — to look at me, I’m guessing.
It paused, then turned again, so it faced the grass growing by the road. I couldn’t hear it quack, but saw its bill open and close. Then the duck did a quick about-face and scooted for the left side of the road, with a brood of ducklings racing after it.
Within seconds, mama duck and her ducklings were out of sight in the tall grass.
I waited a few moments, making sure there wasn’t a straggler still in the grass to my right, and then drove on.
Animals
I’m none too fond of mosquitoes, ticks, and leeches. But by and large I like animals, and think they should be treated humanely. That’s something I didn’t need to change when I became a Catholic. I’ve talked about animals, priorities, and somewhat-related matters before:
It was a bit past one when I voted in Minnesota’s primaries this Tuesday. Two of the three election judges were checking off other voters when I got there.
Verifying that I was a registered voter went smoothly. I gave my name, the election judge saw that I was me, and that was that. Sauk Centre is a small town, and I’ve lived here — probably longer than you’ve been alive.
Voting is something I’ll do again, come November. To the extent that it gets me out of the house and occasionally lets me chat with folks, I enjoy the process.
It’s also part of acting as if what I believe matters. I’ve been talking about that for quite a while, off and on, including this, from about a decade back:
“…Being a good citizen, contributing to the good of society and taking part in public life, is part of being Catholic: or should be. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1915, 2239)
In my country, that includes voting intelligently: thinking about issues and candidates, voting for whoever and whatever is best; or likely to do the least damage, in some cases.
This isn’t a ‘political’ blog, so I won’t be claiming that one candidate walks on water, or that another is a spawn of Satan; or claim that God votes a party ticket.
I occasionally share what I think about immigrants, private property, and other ‘political’ issues. Depending on what part of which post you look at, I could be pegged as conservative or liberal….” (“Love, Neighbors, and Voting” (October 1, 2016))
Deciding who and what to vote for: that’s where voting stops being a pleasant break in routine and starts being a less-than-pleasant civic duty. Or would, if I did the heavy lifting involved in that task.
This time around, as usual, I brought along a cheat sheet my wife had drawn up. We’re both very ‘Catholic’, and she’s both less emotional and more informed about candidates and issues: particularly the local and regional ones. I trust her judgement.
I’m taking it easy — easier than usual — this week, so I’ll just sketch out how being a Catholic affects being a citizen, share an updated link list of resources, link to what I’ve said about this sort of thing: and call it a day.
Faith and Citizenship
Being a Catholic and a citizen is very simple, and incredibly difficult.
I have to think that every human being is a person, with a share of humanity’s “transcendent dignity”. That’s everybody — NO EXCEPTIONS. Age, health, who our ancestors are, what we’ve done: none of that makes someone a non-person. We’re all, each of us, a person: someone made “in the image of God”. (Genesis 1:26–27, 2:7; Catechism of the Catholic Church, 355-357, 361, 369-370, 1700, 1730, 1929, 2258-2283)
Like I said, simple. And, at least for me, very difficult.
Getting back to voting, that’s part of how my native culture works.
Voting, responsibly, is part of our public life. Or should be. Since I’m a Catholic, that makes it an obligation. Along with recognizing humanity’s solidarity and respecting authority. Within reason. (Catechism, 1778, 1915, 1897-1917, 1939-1942, 2199, 2238-2243)
Voting Responsibly: Resources
Good news, the USCCB (United States Conference of Bishops) provides a pretty good set of resources, explaining why voting for the candidate with the nicest haircut may not be a good idea.
Frustrating news, the USCCB’s website isn’t entirely stable. They may have reasons for changing the URLs of resources and not updating their own pages to reflect the changes, but — well, that’s my problem.
These links were valid on the afternoon of August 13, 2026:
“Forming Consciences…” and related resources: United States Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB)
There. I’ve found valid links to arguably-useful voter resources, and outlined how my beliefs affect how I try to act.
Now it’s time for me to say I’ve talked about this sort of thing before, and share links you can follow — or not, although I think you’d find some of it interesting:
Dik Browne’s “It may be the end of civilization as we know it.” (February 25, 1973)
Pope Leo XIV’s “Magnifica Humanitas” (on safeguarding the human person in the time of artificial intelligence) came out in May.
I didn’t expect it to be a fast read, and I was right. In English, it runs to nearly 38,000 words, not counting footnotes.
I still haven’t read it, but have glanced through the thing. Now I’ve started reading, a bit at a time, equipped with a marker: and coffee.
Early on, I ran into these thoughts:
“…Technology should not be considered, in itself, as a force antagonistic to humanity. On the contrary, it has formed part of our history since the beginning as ‘a profoundly human reality, linked to the autonomy and freedom of man.’ [Benedict XVI, Encyclical Letter Caritas in Veritate (29 June 2009), 69: AAS 101 (2009), 702.]…
“…’Never has humanity had such power over itself.’ [Francis, Encyclical Letter Laudato Si ‘ (24 May 2015), 104: AAS 107 (2015), 888.] New technologies open up a horizon extending in directions that are imaginable but not yet fully predictable. This complicates the assessment of their potential impact and the long-term effects they may have on both the dignity of individuals and the common good….” (“Magnifica Humanitas” — on safeguarding the human person in the time of artificial intelligence, Pope Leo XIV (May 15, 2026)) [emphasis mine]
Telephone, Television: Technological Terrors??
(‘EEK! New technology!! “The Phantom Creeps” (1939:))
I’ve seen quite a few new technologies become widely used; and, for some, feared.
In my youth, telephone service was becoming as widely available as the Internet was a few years ago. Quite a few years, actually.
I don’t think anyone really said ‘kids these days don’t communicate, they just sit around for hours, talking on the telephone’. But misgivings about the newfangled tech were common enough for that to be a joke.
Television was another new technology threatening the very foundations of civilization. I’ll freely grant that much of the programming wasn’t what I’d watch. But I don’t think that everything would have been beer and skittles, if only we hadn’t been exposed to “I Love Lucy” and “Leave It to Beaver”.
The Internet — I’ve talked about that before, and I’ll admit a bias.
I like being able to access more information, faster, from archives I’d never have been able to reach in my youth.
Some folks misuse this technology, but I don’t miss the days when swindlers used the want ads instead of online markets. It’s different now, but not significantly different.
These days, AI — artificial intelligence — is among the top favorite new bogeymen.
Over the last few years, I’ve read that it’ll destroy creativity, take our jobs, puree our brains and generally make everything icky.
I’m not convinced.
On the other hand, my oldest daughter and I have exchanged words over some of the more egregious and inept efforts to use AI while cranking out alleged art. And that’s another topic or two. Or three, or — Actually, it’s a lot of topics.
Basically, I see AI as a new technology: one which each of us can use to help or hurt others; or decide not to use at all.
Tech Isn’t the Problem
The point is, each of us decides what we do — or don’t do — with technology.
It’s sort of like how St. Thomas Aquinas saw animals that can hurt us.
“In the words of Augustine (Super. Gen. contr. Manich. i): ‘If an unskilled person enters the workshop of an artificer he sees in it many appliances of which he does not understand the use, and which, if he is a foolish fellow, he considers unnecessary. Moreover, should he carelessly fall into the fire, or wound himself with a sharp-edged tool, he is under the impression that many of the things there are hurtful; whereas the craftsman, knowing their use, laughs at his folly. And thus some people presume to find fault with many things in this world, through not seeing the reasons for their existence. For though not required for the furnishing of our house, these things are necessary for the perfection of the universe.’ And, since man before he sinned would have used the things of this world conformably to the order designed, poisonous animals would not have injured him.” (“The Summa Theologica,” First Part, Question 72. The work of the sixth day; St. Thomas Aquinas (unfinished at his death in 1274)) [emphasis mine]
“…Now action is properly ascribed, not to the instrument, but to the principal agent, as building is ascribed to the builder, not to his tools. Hence it is evident that use is, properly speaking, an act of the will….” (“The Summa Theologica,” First Part of the Second Part, Question 16. Use, which is an act of the will in regard to the means; Article 1; St. Thomas Aquinas (unfinished at his death in 1274)) [emphasis mine]
Seems to me that St. Aquinas gave each of us credit for having brains: and that using our brains, or not, was a choice each of us makes. Is that a drastic oversimplification? Yes. But I think it covers an important point.
One takeaway from these excerpts is that learning at least the basics of being “an artificer” before using tech is a good idea. So is learning self-awareness, and that’s a truckload of topics I don’t have time for this week.
Make that energy and focus. I’ve had the same seven days I get each week. Well, not the same days, but the same duration.
Time to wrap this up.
Using Technology Wisely: Or Not
Common sense and safety protocols put on hold: Beijing. (2009)
I don’t think AI is a completely safe, foolproof technology.
No technology is so safe and foolproof that someone can’t misuse it. Even something as basic as fire, something we’ve used for well upwards of a million years, is a problem when someone goofs.1
I see AI as just another technology: a tool which each of us may use, misuse, or ignore. Considering AI’s potential, ignoring it seems — silly, at best.
Using AI wisely? That’s why I’ve been dabbling with the freebies available, and will keep reading “Magnifica Humanitas”: a few paragraphs at a time.
I’m in no hurry with the latter, since one of my daughters said she’d seen many informed commentaries on the encyclical letter back in May and June. One of these days I should learn more about her corner of social media. And that’s — you guessed it — another topic.
San Francisco’s BART. (1972)
I’ve talked about AI, technology, and why I’m not in a blind panic before:
1 Fire; among our first technologies, and still not ‘safe’:
Wikipedia
Beijing Television Cultural Center fire (“This article may be excessively based on old or outdated news reports. Please update this article with better sources….”)
“Crossing the open farmland of southwestern Minnesota, you’ll encounter an otherworldly sight: a massive head with a beard, mustache and red-striped top hat looming over the horizon.
Pull into the small town of Luverne and the figure — a nearly 66-foot (20-meter) tall nutcracker, decked out like Uncle Sam — comes into full view….”
I’ve never been to Luverne, Minnesota, and will probably never go there.
But I’ve seen other oversize statues in my home state: Rothsay’s prairie chicken, Alexandria’s viking, Paul Bunyan in Bemidji, Belgrade’s crow, and “Pelican Pete: World’s Largest Pelican” in Pelican Rapids.
One of these days I may talk about roadside attractions in the Midwest. But not today.
Uncle Sam, Roadside Attractions, and Love of Country
Jeremiah J. Crowley’s “The Pope: Chief of White Slavers High Priest of Intrigue”.
I enjoyed reading about Luverne’s new roadside attraction, but that’s not the only possible response to that statue of Uncle Sam in the form of a nutcracker.
Given a running start, I could rant about the crass commercialism displayed Luverne’s whacking great nutcracker — the AP article mentions a “quirky rock shop in the town’s center” — or denounce it as the abomination of desolation, a graven image defiling our fair land.
Now that I think about it, I don’t recall any rabid radio preacher of my youth calling on his followers to fear and revile roadside attractions.
Not sure why. Maybe because the things are deeply embedded in the regional culture, and that’s another topic or two.
Luverne’s new attraction doesn’t upset me, so I won’t rant or rave about it.
But I will admit that I like it; partly because I like kitsch, partly because I like memories associated with roadside attractions, and partly because I enjoy seeing this latest sign of at least latent patriotism.
About that: I like being an American, and love this country.
I’d better clarify that.
Honor, Affection, and Gratitude: Within Reason
Loving my country doesn’t mean I think America can do no wrong, or that everyone who’s not American is out to get me. Life isn’t that simple
Loving my country doesn’t mean that I get warm fuzzies each time each time I see the colors red, white, and blue.
It does mean that I see my country with honor, affection, and gratitude: within reason. Since I’m a Catholic, I’d better. It’s part of my faith, an extension of sorts to my family obligations. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2199)
This is going to be another comparatively-short one.
Today I’m focusing on part of another step in those family property/estate/whatever arrangements I mentioned last week.
Or, rather, on something that came up during the process.
But first, a little background.
I wasn’t a Catholic when my wife and I got married. That added a few steps, mainly involving making sure that I understood what being married meant.1
The priest we talked to asked me — it’s been decades, so this is a heavy paraphrase.
He asked me if I thought marriage was exclusive and permanent.
To me, it sounded like a trick question. I figured that when I married her, we’d be married: until one or the other or both died, and that while we were married I wouldn’t act as if I was a husband/boyfriend/whatever with anyone else.
Turns out that the question was just what it sounded like. I explained, briefly for me, that I thought being married was being married: that I’d be exclusively and permanently my wife’s husband.
Fast-forward several decades. My wife and I are still married, and I still think being married means being married. That’s no virtue on my part. From my viewpoint, it just makes sense.
Priorities
This week, the law firm that’s writing the document(s) needed for those arrangements sent us an “estate planning engagement agreement”. One paragraph started like this:
“…Dual Representation. Married spouses may, at times, have different heeds, objectives and interests for their estate plans. As a result, there may be a conflict of interest in our firm representing both of you….”
Okay, I get it. Being married doesn’t guarantee being on the same page with finances, which flavor of ice cream is best, or anything else.
But with something like this, if spouses don’t agree on how their family’s finances should work — their first job is figuring out what will work, and then getting the documents drawn up.
And if they can’t figure out how that part of their lives should work, they’ve got a bigger job: getting to a point where they can agree.
Books could be and have been written about this, but I’m calling it a day.
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Life, the universe and my circumstances permitting. I'm focusing on 'family stories' at the moment. ("A Change of Pace: Family Stories" (11/23/2024))
Blog - David Torkington
Spiritual theologian, author and speaker, specializing in prayer, Christian spirituality and mystical theology [the kind that makes sense-BHG]
I was born in 1951. I'm a husband, father and grandfather. One of the kids graduated from college in December, 2008, and is helping her husband run businesses and raise my granddaughter; another is a cartoonist and artist; #3 daughter is a writer; my son is developing a digital game with #3 and #1 daughters. I'm also a writer and artist.
