Aug 13 - Trip to MN - Minnesota's Fringe Arts Scene

Marco and I got the old bicycles out of mom's shed. We walked them to Brooks Gas Station and filled up the tires, then biked around St. Croix Beach. (I saw Emily's dad walking his dog, but was too shy to stop). Oh, it was so much like the summer days I spent growing up here.

Then we headed into the city. We picked up Lauren at his home in Saint Paul. Marco and Lauren barely met only one time 6 years ago, so I wasn't sure how they would get along. Seemed to go well enough though.

Lauren's a baker now with Saint Agnes bakery. As we drove towards Minneapolis he told us about the baking business and about ciabattas and sourdoughs that he was working on.

We arrived at our destination - a place called the Soap Factory that indeed used to be a soap factory. Now it is a converted industrial space that houses an art gallery and theater. Some of Lauren's friends were performing their own play there as a part of the Twin Cities Fringe Festival.

The Fringe Festival is a yearly opportunity for Minnesotans to sample their local, grassroots performance artists. It's become a popular festival and according the the newspaper, this play that we were about to see was shaping up to be it's big star. It was a somewhat abstract piece that represents the ongoing experiences of the people of Iraq during the US war and occupation. It's called Don't Blow Up Mr. Boban. Mr. Boban is a cafe owner, and he watches normal life and tragedy weave together as friends and strangers come in and out of his restaurant.

After the play we met a couple of Lauren's friends, one of whom was the writer and main actor of the play. We chatted in the art gallery amidst an exposition of decorated ice fishing shacks.

We left the Soap Factory. I felt a little silly because in the Cities I really don't know any places to go so I never have any activities to suggest. But Lauren came through with the idea of walking to a nearby pedestrian bridge over the Mississippi.

First we descended to the banks of the Mississippi where fly fisherman were angling for trout (even in the middle of a city). Then we crossed the bridge and looked at the locks and dams over Saint Anthony falls. One tiny boat was going through an enormous lock big enough for industrial barges. We gazed at the spacey new Guthrie Theater building being constructed on the banks of the Mississippi, and we looked at the old flour silos from the days of Pillsbury and General Mills. Lauren knew a ton of history.

On our way to the car we walked through an empty lot with train tracks running through. Abandoned grain silos loomed over our heads and it was as industrial as it could get. But the afternoon light illuminated the area, making it glow with that ever-present emerald green of Minnesota, and for a bried moment it was beautiful. I took a picture.

Marco and I dropped Lauren at his home. Then we were still in a social mood, so we went to Stillwater, a historic old town on the St. Croix river, near home.

We sat on the patio of the Freighthouse restaurant and watched the sun set over the river. Boaters and people with fancy cars had all come out to make the most of the beautiful evening, including one guy with an amphibious car - a sky-blue convertible which can drive into the water and become a boat.

We ended up eating at the Freighthouse. It still serves the old-style Midwestern food that I grew up with which involves lots of heavy, greasy and bland. We even headed over to the attached nightclub and watched bachelorette-party girls dance to bad rap tunes. Cheesy though it may sometimes be, it still had this nice Minnesotan way about it and I was happy to be there because I could see this town of my origins differently, and probably more warmly, after having been gone so many years.

Marco and I drove home, through Bayport, past Clydes, with the windows open, the fresh summer night air and the crickets chirping.