I was getting pretty bored with our family fishing vacation in Minnesota. So my dad decided to take little nine-year-old Ronnie to see Paul Bunyan, the legendary giant lumberjack. Actually, it's this huge Paul Bunyan, sitting on a chair with his big ax and Babe the Blue Ox nearby. And there was this little log cabin at his feet. My dad went over to the ticket booth and came back with my ticket, which I eagerly gave to the ticket taker so I could go in and see big old Paul. As I walked in, I almost became the youngest heart attack victim in Minnesota history. Paul Bunyan's big old voice boomed out across the grounds and said, "Hello, Ronnie." I was blown away! How could I know that this was all a conspiracy? The ticket booth guy gets the kid's name, relays it to the little man with a microphone in Paul's log cabin, who then uses that information to welcome some unsuspecting little guy like me. All I knew was that that big guy knew my name!