BELSIZE PARK

Willow striking leather

Minnesota Bhakta SC defending the wicket. For all the details: www.minnesotacricket.org.

The Art Car Parade

Or....Hoods in the 'Hood.

(click on the pix to see the artistry)

The Cork Car. often seen in the Mpls. Warehouse District. But it's not a car I hear you say. This is Art, dear reader, Facts don't count.

Kharma Kar.

Fridge magnets. Does this imply utility...or a lack of commitment?

Speaks for itself.

"Mercedes Bones" But it's a Volvo you cry. Again, those pesky facts!

Morgan L'Argent, genius. It looks as normal as any badly upholstered couch can sailing down the street at 15 mph. There are even potato chip crumbs under the cushions. Electric powered with the ability to spin end-around-end this sofa can rocket your no-longer-welcome guests across the yard and down the street with remote control ease. That's the remote in the inventor's lap. For more...couchmobile.com

He rode this to the Senate and into our hearts.

Thank God someone has come up with a use for a leaf blower that doesn't involve driving the neighbors nuts.

Power wagon.

Caffeine freak.

My old classmate MJL piloting the House of Balls (212 3rd Ave. N.) flagship around the parade's first turn. Doesn't the pink hair set off her eyes well! And ain't art fun!?

No pictures this time.

Last Saturday afternoon, as I sat watching a cricket match at Bohanon Field, I heard what sounded like fireworks going off. Since this is summer and the fireworks laws have been loosened up a bit I thought nothing of it. Then the police sirens started up and just kept coming. Dear reader, I know this is the middle of America and it's our culture but what is it with guns? What can ten bullets pumped into someone accomplish? More shooting?

I'll gladly show the picture I took of the aftermath of this shooting to anyone who believes that handguns should be legal in this country. I'd like to watch their face. You can learn a lot by watching someone's face.

Last evening's block party...

There were balloons...

There were bands...

There were feats of strength...

...and royalty.

The ambulances were quiet...

But the Irish pub was not...

The comedians began their night on the sidewalk...

And I ended mine on the road.

Driving around on Sunday and I ran into this at 34th and Park Ave.

An American Hell

These pictures were taken in Apple Valley, MN, an ex-burb of Minneapolis that has come to exemplify, for me, the rotten core of America. Let me explain.

These structures cover, no, are the landscape for dozens of square miles south of the Minnesota River. The corn farmers sold out to the real estate speculators that swarmed out from the cities in the 90's. Corporate farming, much of it "headquartered" in the Twin Cities, had driven down the market prices for crops to the point where a developer's offer represented the only future a farm family had.

Look at what resulted. Fields of barracks.

These are called, "multi-family homes," which could also be called "high-density, high-profit land packing." Their design owes much to the television and the car. I suppose they are the logical step past the factory towns and tract homes of the 50's and 60's. They fill the need of the the modern American. Each has a two-car garage which is vital for two reasons. One, the SUV, the truck and the car define the American owner and need protection as their clothes need a closet. Look at the pictures, their "house" cannot offer them any definition. Two, the malls (there are no "shops"), the schools, their jobs are literally miles away. They cannot walk anywhere from here!

The television. It keeps them inside. Why should they act when they can watch, therefore why own a yard? Besides, a yard means yardwork and yardwork takes time away from television. A dilema the developers have solved by offering no yard at all.

The price of these homes surprised me, but not for long. They sell for more than my extended bungalow would which sits detached from any other house on one-third of a acre only two blocks from the city limits of Minneapolis proper. Why? Well, to start with, I live in a multi-ethnic neighborhood. Ah, yes.. I hear you say. Homogeneity: very important to a lot of people. Also, these dwellings are new. "New" counts for a lot in America. It is an attribute that beats quality, esthetics, value, etc. every time.

Yesterday I walked through one of these "houses" that was still unfinished. I shuffled through the building debris and examined the construction. The walls were flimsy and the craftmanship poor. Clearly the builder was counting on the drywall, paint and carpet to cover his sins. In fifty years the place might not even be standing but, I suppose, that's not the point. The property speculator, the developer, the builder and the mortgage company will have all made their profit and moved on. I'm sure that they try not to think of the lives that will have to be shoehorned into these stuctures that they have thrown up. Do they count on the occupants being as trancient as their foundations are weak? Do they assume these homes, in time, will be plowed under like the corn?

A depressing place furnished with ugly buildings built on all too common principles.

Oldest Segway Pilot ?

My thoughts as I stumble into work on a Tuesday morning and see this...

"Old man..old man balancing on two wheels..Oh good, I'm hallucinating..Stroke maybe?..no, that's one of those..but.."

So after I get my mouth closed the old boy says, "It's a Segway." And I say, "Yeah, I know..."Then he says, "Wanna try it?" And I do. And we talk. HE'S 95 AND AS HAPPY AS HELL!

There's hope for us all.

A different 4th...

First off, the small-town-like parade on Como Ave. with my brother's family which featured no marching bands, thankfully, given the incident of a few weeks ago.

There were, however, Marching Brides.

Then it was on to to downtown and the Mall. Not a whole lot happening except for a herd of Elks wandering among the cafes and bars. (The fratenal orginization was in town, not the four-legged kind...)

I could just barely hear reggae or ska as I approached the south end of Nicollet Ave. and I took off to hunt it down. Barrelled across the bridge but had to stop midway for this:

Don't ask, I don't know.

The music got louder as I scampered off the bridge and through the usually quite little enclave called Nicollet Island. But then I ran out of island. The band was on Boom Island and a side branch of the Mississippi was in my way.

A big guy strides up, clearly in the same predicament, and we confer. We're stuck until a dogwalking passerby points out a small bridge. We scramble down the bank to the bridge only to confront a card table with a sign taped to it: "$18.50" We scramble back up the bank.

Abdullah had come this way from Dinkytown but headed back across the bridge to downtown with me. We chewed over old buildings, music (he's a pianist), design, and the capabilities of new digital cameras. My old camera served as an example of what neither of us wanted. Its 1/3 megapixal and is the size and weight of half a large brick. Still, it'll let me show him to you.

Then there was this:

Falcons nest in the tower of the Minneapolis City Hall and this fledgling had decided on a stroll over to the jail. I refuse to call it by it's official name, the Adult Detention Facility. It's a JAIL made to look like an office building no matter what they call it!

End of the fun? Not hardly! My friend and mentor C. pulled up next to me at a stoplight on Hiawatha. She was headed to the Dairy Queen...So after a multi-hour conversation in the setting sun I headed home.

As I drifted off to sleep the fireworks-addicted neighbors unleashed their massive arsenal. I had forgotten it was the 4th. Damn. Three hours later, as I drifted off to sleep....