After an ELL session on Malala Yousafzai with an adult learner, I went to the nearby Minneapolis American Indian Center for a bison melt. Lawn signs out front promoted candidates in the upcoming tribal elections.
Category: Twin Cities
The ultimate frequent flyers
I finally got around to seeing “Crossing the Line: The Passport Re-Imagined” at Open Book, just three blocks from our home. Here, the artist has produced passports for migratory birds; the painted eggs represent individual birds, while the cloth satchel serves as a “nest” to hold the eggs and passports. On my own travels, I’ve often been in awe of migratory birds, especially at Farewell Spit on New Zealand’s South Island, where we observed bar-tailed godwits that migrate 7,500 miles to Alaska.
Destination Battle Creek Park
With a bit of help from light rail and a friend and his truck, we cycled trails east of St. Paul, including a nicely refurbished section leading to Battle Creek Park. We both almost stalled out at a couple of points as we tracked this stream uphill.
The golden age of trespassing
One of the advantages of being a senior is that the consequences of being arrested are far less severe than they were when I was young. I no longer have an employer to fire me, and I can comfortably afford a lawyer or a fine. Besides, I look harmless. With that in mind, I secured my bicycle and clambered up a railroad embankment. I carefully crossed two live tracks to get a closer look at a dozen vintage coaches, including these from the North Pole Express. And nobody stopped me.
Beyond the canon
We had an unusual perch for the nearly sold-out Minnesota Orchestra concert. There wasn’t much dust on the pieces we heard: two 20th-century American composers unfamiliar to me (Antheil and Adams) and Tchaikovsky’s final symphony, written on the cusp of the 20th century. In the foreground there’s a robotic camera; the performance was broadcast live on Minnesota public television and radio.
Decolonizing the menu
Shared notes about our day over a dinner of indigenous ingredients at the bar at Owamni. While reservations for this James Beard Award-winning restaurant can be hard to snag, we’ve found that unreserved bar seats are usually available if we arrive early. Signs reminded us where we were, featuring tags like #landback, #86colonialism (86 is a nod to the restaurant lingo for removing an item from the menu), and the acknowledgment that we were dining on native land.
Closed on Mondays
On Mondays, I sometimes get the urge to look at art. At the start of my walk today, I popped into Open Book for “Crossing the Line: The Passport Re-Imagined.” Bad idea: like many galleries, it’s closed on Mondays. Since the cafe was open, an Americano and a donut replaced examining “themes of immigration, power, limitation, and belonging.”
A favorite perch
Cycled with a friend to a favorite perch overlooking BNSF’s Northtown Yard. It’s huge: 105 miles of track processing 1,500 railcars every day.
Waymo in the wild
Spotted this Waymo in the wild today. They’re currently being trained for our harsh climate. I’m looking forward to having vehicles on our streets that actually stop at pedestrian crossings, pause before right turns on red, and never run red lights.
From sunrise to supper
The sun was rising as I left this morning, the start of a long day that eventually wound down at a local restaurant we had not tried before. We enjoyed dishes with names ending in au vin and en croûte while comparing notes about our day.