In The Quiet Hours of Minneapolis
It’s going to be a long, deeply distressing couple of weeks if yesterdays Twins victory is any indication of what’s to come. . .

Ahh. . . but what a fine victory it was. The look on the Yankees players faces gave me a great warm satisfaction. And that catch!?! Shannon Stewart I could kiss you. Now I just need to figure out how I’m going to listen/watch the game Thursday night as I’m cruising at 2000 feet on my way to Portland. I did not time that right at all.

The Papa M show was great. In a surprise bonus, Paz (formerly of Zwan and A Perfect Circle) was there supporting Pajo with some extremely active bass playing. She also played some mean picking banjo and rocked the entire concert on her tippy toes for some strange reason. While killing some time before the show, I wondered into Border’s books and happily discovered that they have a CD listening system in place where you can grab any CD off the shelf, scan it and listen to one minute snippets of every song. This proved rather addictive. I could have done that all night but I had some books I wanted to find. I’ve been obsessing as of late over books that detail some of the lost and forgotten architecture of Twin Cities and greater Minnesota. Picking up Lost Twin Cities at the library a few weeks ago started it all. The book details some of the great architectural sites that were built around the turn of the last century and profiles the architect (if they can figure out who it was) who designed them. They also give the street address of where the building used to sit, which sends your mind on a journey around town comparing what used to be and what now is. Inevitably, this sort of thing gets rather depressing, as you realize that all these amazing buildings built from Southern Minnesota limestone and crafted with great care and patience have all been blown away and are now parking garages and strip malls. Another good addition to this line of reading is the book The Quiet Hours. It’s a black and white snap book of industrial complexes and storefronts taken in the wee hours of the morning. There is a great picture of the kosher deli that my brother lives above on Randolph Ave. My favorite picture is of the Grain Belt Brewery. The photo is haunting. The book also features an appropriate essay from Bill Holm.