Welcome to Summer. Bring a Hoodie.

 

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

 

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

 

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

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

 

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