To paraphrase Oscar Wilde: there is only one thing in the world worse than the Skyway, and that is not having the Skyway. While I don’t care for the way it stifles life at street level, I certainly appreciated it today. I enjoyed walking part of the 9½-mile system in shirtsleeves with friends even though it was single digits and windy outside.
Category: Minneapolis
Music for a winter night
A light snow was falling as we walked into Orchestra Hall for a Minnesota Orchestra concert. The program included pianist Kirill Gerstein, who performed two concertos: a modern piece by Thomas Adès, a British composer new to me, and Ravel’s Concerto for the Left Hand. It was impressive to hear such a rich, full sound produced by just one hand. By the time we left, the snowstorm was intensifying.
Transitioning to color
On our Sunday walk, with temperatures climbing into the high fifties, yesterday’s snowy, monochromatic landscape had found some color. Here at Gold Medal Park the grass and trees are still a few weeks away from fully greening up.
A winter forage
Walked over to the farmers market on a fresh overnight dusting of snow, a reminder that winter isn’t finished and that local produce would be scarce. I carried home crusty bread straight from the baker, along with bacon sausages and lamb from a local farm for “Sausage Saturday” and a Sunday root vegetable braise.
Bold sign, bold lunch
Took the opportunity while Dwight was seeing a friend to grab a spicy lunch at a nearby Thai restaurant. A “Private Property” sign on the door explicitly forbids immigration enforcement on the premises. The City of Minneapolis estimates that since December, ICE agents have caused well over $100 million in economic damage to city businesses and workers afraid to go to work, while straining city resources.
Stronger together
Walked over to Open Book for a cuppa. The folks at the Minnesota Center for Book Arts had been busy at the letterpress; a “please take one” sign sat beside a now-nonexistent pile of protest posters. It reminded me of our recent travels: whenever people asked where we were from, “Minneapolis, Minnesota” always drew a warm, informed response. “The US,” less so.
Dinner and hard truths
Snowy walk to meet friends for a “modern take on authentic Mexican food.” Because people are afraid to go out lately, the restaurant has had to shorten its hours. We received great service from our server, and we chatted at the end of our meal. She shared her well-founded fear of being dragged off by ICE goons on her way from work because of the color of her skin, despite being an American-born citizen.
Curved steel and high rails
Our closest river crossing, Bridge Number 9, reopened today, so we went for a walk. It gives us a straight (well, curved) shot to the University’s East Bank and medical campus. The new railings are now well above a cyclist’s center of gravity and serve as a suicide deterrent.
Voices against occupation
On my walk, I decided to pay my respects to the Father of Waters (statue) at City Hall. To my surprise, a press briefing was just starting, so I stuck around. I listened as local and state leaders bore witness to the violent ICE occupation of our city; instead of dividing us, their presence has only brought the community together.
Mansion walk
After our successful elevator doors walk last week, a friend and I went on a ‘mansion walk.’ We braved the icy sidewalks to explore a Minneapolis neighborhood featuring a scattering of mansions built by families like the McKnights (3M) and the Pillsburys. Today, most of these properties serve as offices and event spaces.