hey it's the north-east

I had visions of staying somewhere along University Avenue between Minneapolis and St. Paul as I seemed to have remembered some motels there and it would mean a good wander before heading over to meet the lads (and lass).

Seeing the way that Minneapolis had changed and fearing I would waste time searching and finding nothing, headed to the Interstate off ramps for a place. Even though it was the end of daylight savings time I kept waking up too early but when the sun did finally arrive and I could look out over the endless car-parks that this motel shared with three others and a bowling alley, I wished that I had more time and also wanted to race to the North-east – well after stocking up at the free breakfast.

I didn’t know that I was such a trend setter as I found out that my modus operandi for dropping off snaps and leaving is called ding dong ditch actually did exactly that to a former Beloiter who lives in Northern Minneapolis – it was quite easy am now quite cold blooded and calm about it as no-one seems to ever look out windows.

A great day clear sky most of the warming coming from the sun. but being mid autumn the sun was low enough to have soft shadows. Spied in Kmack’s place and seeing no movement I went for a marl, being drawn to the confusion of shadows and creeping plants on buildings.

Then there were the alleys, alleys with things in them. it seems that the good people of Minneapolis throw out a lot of furniture, I can think of one transplanted Texan now in Colorado who would have had her entire flat decked out. it was a day with the Diana due to the light and a day of things due to – well – things.

I had planned to make ever larger circles centred on Kmack but found that when I got to a place where I should be heading back I saw something just ahead that looked interesting. I was heading north and I didn’t want to cross Broadway.

I ran across a tavern that wasn’t open quite yet – it was 9:50 – but had some ikonic feel to it. Was photographing the façade trying to incorporate the Grain Belt sign when a person turned the corner.

A chat in which I mentioned my fascination for local no taverns – I have also decided to drink locally now – no Smithwicks when I can get a beer brewed within 100 km. He told me that the place opens early for drinks and they have Sliders to eat before the football games in the afternoon. I am told of the taverns that have bit the dust how the North-East is becoming condo-ed and that he doesn’t go to Viking Games.

More photographs, the bar keep comes out but am too slow to photograph her.

-what’s he doing?
Buddy explains
-oh.
Passing I see a sign ____ doesn’t allow firearms in the bar.

More alleys but what I now seem focused on are the corner taverns. Two more while heading back. One more conversation with someone who is waiting for his to open. He also gives me tips on others in the neighbourhood.

He also laments the change in the North-East saying that there is more crime now.

-there was a group of people breaking car windows, Saw them and I hate to say it but three of them were African Americans and onoe wanted to be one.

Again while walking back to her place, wondered why I could make photographs here without straining or even making a effort to head out to photograph when in Peasants Pissoir it is an effort just to head out.

While awaiting the others to get ready, Walker and Coach had walked to the Mississippi, I did a couple of short wanders. Every excuse they gave me led to another short stroll.

Leaving for Lake of the Isles, I saw a living room suite up free in the alley and wanted to head back immediately.

Lunch – brunch was a pheasant salad shot by Kmack’s father – beware of buckshot – be still my vegetarian heart. But the truth is I wanted to get out, the day perfect for making snaps and I wanted to head back to the North-East to get the living room suite.

Kept saying that I was heading back, but waited as the rest of the boys had to tart up for the fundraiser – I was beyond hope travelling lightly – meaning needing space for the cameras and film I tend to bring the minimum in clothing.

While they were changing I was exploring. I zig-zagged north and east passing a bar with the bartender out back staring nervously at the cable guy. Asked if he’d mind if I took some snaps, I was in paranoic Chicago mode where people live frightened, forgetting that away from the land of the f.i.b.s there is humanity and a basic trust.

-be my guest.

Buddy was watching the cable guy because the signal went down during the Vikings Game and there was a near riot.

I was more interested in having some tavern formalism but did photograph him. Did wander far but was thorough without meaning to be. Was now in a area of homeless camps and thinking that they would add to the discarded furniture, wandered around them.

About the time I was thinking about heading back. Buddy sees me photograph and talks about the weather, his house what he does, make a photograph of him then ask if I can photograph his clothes line.

-of course.
-well I don’t like traipsing on people’s property without asking.
-hey this is the North-East.

Mentioned that I was the third photographer this week who had been here and wondered what was going on. Mention my like of real neighbourhoods and visiting friends here as my reason.

He bids me well for the rest of the week-end and I do the same.

The fundraiser was excruciating. It was still light out, I don’t do small talk, and didn’t want to be in the room when people were bidding on the work. of course due to this I had to talk about the work during the live auction.
-what type of boat is it?
-I forgot
-how big is it
-about three metres high
-what do they fish….
I fled back outside.

Of course people bidding got a steal, everyone looks for bargains. Should have just donated cash it would have been cheaper for me and more profitable for her.

The fundraiser over, Coach and I race back as I have to be in a faculty meeting the next day where one of the professional part-time full time faculty couldn’t be bothered to make it.

Mentioned to Walker that with my strange memory, I was sure that when I got back, I would know that I was in Minneapolis but wouldn’t remember any of it and it was true. I was back in the eternal present of the WGAS.