The Hill and Lake Press, a community newspaper serving South Minneapolis, graciously offered me space and free reign in 1985. The hope was that the column would reflect the views and interests of the city versus suburban dwellers and capture the spirit of arts-centered hipsters living in the shadow of downtown.
I am urban not urbane, neither hip nor artsy. Hopelessly out of touch, I shudder to think I am at all reflective of the views of this vital, thriving, and frozen gem. Despite being miscast I hung around, won a few awards and became too much of an inevitability to bother to unseat.
If much of life is showing up, I have done that. Perhaps the old adage that everyone has a book in them is not true. Goodness knows I looked. What I found is a collection of columns that are the length of a book. To the chagrin of my editors, very few of these pieces are Minnesota-centric.
I hope this quenches my thirst for immortality and more importantly provides readers with a few laughs and ahhs of recognition.