I was very happy when I first moved to Minneapolis seventeen years ago. I recall a sense of elation as I stared at the distant cluster of downtown skyscrapers while running around what was then called Lake Calhoun. I had discovered a place that felt like home, a new home without all the baggage from … Continue reading Minneapolis Skyline
Minneapolis
Don’t Squeeze the Charmin
A squad car pulls up next to the apartment building I’m approaching. I nod to the two officers and they smile back. One of them seems familiar. It’s below zero out. “Well, I suppose you don’t mind letting us in.” It is the same cop. He’s a white guy with salt and pepper hair. There … Continue reading Don’t Squeeze the Charmin
The Man of the House
My youngest son and I have a joke we share. Before I leave for work, I tell him he is the man of the house while I am gone. This started last spring when his kindergarten class was quarantined and his older brother still got to go to school. Now I say he’s the man … Continue reading The Man of the House
Hoop Medicine
My youngest son splashes in the lake with his mother as I anxiously pan the beach for Miles. At last, I feel a momentary pang of love as I recognize him among the frolicking, half-clad children. He is bent over, digging a hole in the sand with a shovel. Wait. I take a step closer … Continue reading Hoop Medicine
Trash Fishing
We celebrated my 49th birthday by dining at Al’s Breakfast in the Dinkytown neighborhood of Minneapolis. My wife and kids feasted on pancakes while I enjoyed bacon and eggs with what might have been the most scrumptious wheat toast I’ve ever consumed. Amazingly, this hole-in-the-wall establishment has been in business since 1950. It has no … Continue reading Trash Fishing
Mercy
Like most people, I tend to be parsimonious with my mercy. Mostly because time is like blood to me. I only have so much. When you are a letter carrier, people try to befriend you. Often they have nowhere to go. They are prisoners of their maladies and handicaps. They pester you as if you … Continue reading Mercy
The Bridge, the Bird, the River—a Triangle of Perception
I paused on my bicycle ride across the Franklin Bridge because I spotted a small patch of white in the bare trees that I immediately recognized as a bald eagle. Far below in the Mississippi River, teams of scullers rowed downstream toward the Short Line Bridge and the Lake Street Bridge beyond that. The eagle, … Continue reading The Bridge, the Bird, the River—a Triangle of Perception
A Riverine Christmas
I drink coffee while everyone else is asleep. Alone in an armchair, I stare at the yellow rectangle of light coming from the kitchen. The furnace groans and floorboards creak. The house is like an old man farting. Five more years and it will turn one hundred. I think of the other families that have … Continue reading A Riverine Christmas
Cawing into the Abyss
Crows assemble at this U of M tower like children around a birthday cake, hoping for the killing to begin so they can have lunch. You are fools they say, everyone is black until you pick our feathers. Each December they fill the sky along the river in flocks too numerous to count. Such gatherings … Continue reading Cawing into the Abyss
Graffiti Bridge
I decided to put the words and the worries aside and just take some pictures. The suburbanites hurtling over us in their cars had no idea about the art and the wonder below. I could leave the city, put myself deeper in debt and find a nice spot by some lake. I might catch bigger … Continue reading Graffiti Bridge
Crow City 