Back in my hometown of Danville, VA.
There is only one Mary's Diner.
$2.25. Accept nothing less than Bubba's.
Friday, July 31, 2015
Thursday, July 30, 2015
Three Months of Travel: Chattanooga
Location: Chattanooga, TN
Duration: 16 hours
Population: 528,143
Nickname: Scenic City, Chattown, Nooga
Chattanooga was not on the list. I wish I didn't have to go. The word went out about a week before that the husband of a good friend passed away. I got a rental car and made the nine hour drive south from DC. I arrived at the seedy Econo Lodge around 10:00 pm. Familiar faces were there. We were used to seeing each other under better circumstances.
After the funeral, I winded out of a residential neighborhood up to an intersection. The traffic ahead of me was stopped. A fire truck blocked the intersection. Police cars and motorcycles slowly made their way through. It was the processional for another funeral, this one for David Wyatt, one of the Marines gunned down in the recent national tragedy.
I abandoned the car in a pharmacy parking lot and walked to the intersection. Marines, police, ambulances, bikers, friends and families all drove past. The road was lined with thousands sporting their American flags and handmade signs. No one really talking.
Whether it was for the Marine or the husband of my friend, it seemed the whole city was mourning. Every single one of them stopping to look back and remember, before painfully having to move on.
Duration: 16 hours
Population: 528,143
Nickname: Scenic City, Chattown, Nooga
Chattanooga was not on the list. I wish I didn't have to go. The word went out about a week before that the husband of a good friend passed away. I got a rental car and made the nine hour drive south from DC. I arrived at the seedy Econo Lodge around 10:00 pm. Familiar faces were there. We were used to seeing each other under better circumstances.
After the funeral, I winded out of a residential neighborhood up to an intersection. The traffic ahead of me was stopped. A fire truck blocked the intersection. Police cars and motorcycles slowly made their way through. It was the processional for another funeral, this one for David Wyatt, one of the Marines gunned down in the recent national tragedy.
I abandoned the car in a pharmacy parking lot and walked to the intersection. Marines, police, ambulances, bikers, friends and families all drove past. The road was lined with thousands sporting their American flags and handmade signs. No one really talking.
Whether it was for the Marine or the husband of my friend, it seemed the whole city was mourning. Every single one of them stopping to look back and remember, before painfully having to move on.
Saturday, July 25, 2015
Three Months of Travel: Alexandria
About 100 years ago, this house was a brothel. I was proud to call it home from 2006-2010. I wish I could walk back inside. So many memories.
Saturday, July 18, 2015
Three Months of Travel: Minneapolis
Location: Minneapolis, MN
Duration: 3 days
Population: 3,495,176
Nickname: Twin Cities (along w/ St. Paul), City of Lakes
Minneapolis is home to retail-giant, Target. After staying here, I think Target is actually a pretty good metaphor for the city: It's pleasant, it's full of white people, it's got everything you need, it's easy to stay longer than you anticipated and, by the time you finally leave, you're definitely ready to go.
My first mission was to navigate the endless escalators of MSP airport in order to find my rental car place. I do and cancel my reservation. Fargo was in my sights. I spent a good amount of time researching the city for this book and here was the closest I had ever come. The problem was the nine hour round trip drive in front of me (all in one day) and I would have to do it on three hours of red-eye sleep.
Instead, I find myself walking down Hennepin Avenue with the all-too-familiar feeling of shame that comes with a full belly of Five Guys. It's just over a mile to my downtown hotel. I don't mind. I walk across some bicycle bridge and down into Loring Park.
My first day back in the States is always a good day. A peaceful one. I like just hearing other people talk one table over. It doesn't have to be about anything interesting. I pass a museum promoting a pop art exhibit and an "artist-designed mini golf" course. Were I a more cultured man, I would probably stop in. It's good to be home.
If a city is it's people, then Minneapolis, in a word, will always be just plain "nice." From the girl at the hotel coffee shop to the bouncer in front of the nightclub, person after person I encountered was just as Garrison Keillor promised. They were unexpectedly much more attractive than I imagined (an apology to any Minnesotan friends reading this for assuming you guys wouldn't be) and everyone looked downright healthy.
There were more people begging for change than I expected to find in a city that, on first glance, didn't have any blemishes. One guy was actually wearing a collared shirt and had a better haircut than I do. Another man (this one much worse off) held a cardboard sign reading, "homeless," only the last two letters were the lightning-bolt-looking Nazi SS.
I spent more time thinking about this than I should and I narrowed it down to three theories. Either he was a) racist/antisemitic, b) not racist, just unaware of the reference he was making, or c) not necessarily racist, but definitely pandering to any passing racist motorists. We'll never know.
Walking down Nicollet Mall (it's a street, not a shopping mall), I saw one of the most unusual things I've ever seen. On the other side of the crosswalk, coming my direction, was a man with one arm and no lower body. His torso stopped at the waist and there was nothing below it except for the skateboard he used to get around (propelled by his one arm).
Traffic on the two lane street flowed between us. I waited for the cue from the crossing light. Not this guy. He rolled out into the middle of the road. A white SUV came toward him and didn't slow down. He was about eye-level with its license plate, so I doubt they even saw him. With his one muscular arm he knuckled the pavement and propelled himself past it. Everything within inches.
"That was some crazy shit!" a guy nearby exclaimed to him. And they both laughed.
It was a pretty Minnesota-ey experience overall. I heard former Governor Jesse Ventura speak. I stood on the banks of the Mississippi River at Nicollet Island. I set off a security alarm walking into Target Headquarters, thinking it was a regular Target store. The security guard was, to no surprise, nice about it. He gave me directions a few blocks down.
Walking the clean streets of downtown Minneapolis, 80 degrees and hours of extra sunlight after dinner, it's hard to imagine a more pristine city. But this ain't reality and I and everyone else knows it. You can look around and see that Winter is both a fresh memory and a soon-to-be-arriving guest.
Twenty feet above downtown are dozens of glass-enclosed pedestrian bridges that connect this building to that one. Like a second, indoor set of sidewalks. It's easy to travel several blocks without ever stepping outside.
Each bridge I looked up at was empty. Hollow. Its people were here, beside me, on the sidewalk, sitting at patio tables in the shade, laughing with their good-looking friends. They know it's summer and it's short. They're going to make it count.
Duration: 3 days
Population: 3,495,176
Nickname: Twin Cities (along w/ St. Paul), City of Lakes
Minneapolis is home to retail-giant, Target. After staying here, I think Target is actually a pretty good metaphor for the city: It's pleasant, it's full of white people, it's got everything you need, it's easy to stay longer than you anticipated and, by the time you finally leave, you're definitely ready to go.
My first mission was to navigate the endless escalators of MSP airport in order to find my rental car place. I do and cancel my reservation. Fargo was in my sights. I spent a good amount of time researching the city for this book and here was the closest I had ever come. The problem was the nine hour round trip drive in front of me (all in one day) and I would have to do it on three hours of red-eye sleep.
Instead, I find myself walking down Hennepin Avenue with the all-too-familiar feeling of shame that comes with a full belly of Five Guys. It's just over a mile to my downtown hotel. I don't mind. I walk across some bicycle bridge and down into Loring Park.
My first day back in the States is always a good day. A peaceful one. I like just hearing other people talk one table over. It doesn't have to be about anything interesting. I pass a museum promoting a pop art exhibit and an "artist-designed mini golf" course. Were I a more cultured man, I would probably stop in. It's good to be home.
I don't care what local culinary fare you have, when I return to the States, this is the first stop.
If a city is it's people, then Minneapolis, in a word, will always be just plain "nice." From the girl at the hotel coffee shop to the bouncer in front of the nightclub, person after person I encountered was just as Garrison Keillor promised. They were unexpectedly much more attractive than I imagined (an apology to any Minnesotan friends reading this for assuming you guys wouldn't be) and everyone looked downright healthy.
Loring Park.
There were more people begging for change than I expected to find in a city that, on first glance, didn't have any blemishes. One guy was actually wearing a collared shirt and had a better haircut than I do. Another man (this one much worse off) held a cardboard sign reading, "homeless," only the last two letters were the lightning-bolt-looking Nazi SS.
I spent more time thinking about this than I should and I narrowed it down to three theories. Either he was a) racist/antisemitic, b) not racist, just unaware of the reference he was making, or c) not necessarily racist, but definitely pandering to any passing racist motorists. We'll never know.
Walking down Nicollet Mall (it's a street, not a shopping mall), I saw one of the most unusual things I've ever seen. On the other side of the crosswalk, coming my direction, was a man with one arm and no lower body. His torso stopped at the waist and there was nothing below it except for the skateboard he used to get around (propelled by his one arm).
Traffic on the two lane street flowed between us. I waited for the cue from the crossing light. Not this guy. He rolled out into the middle of the road. A white SUV came toward him and didn't slow down. He was about eye-level with its license plate, so I doubt they even saw him. With his one muscular arm he knuckled the pavement and propelled himself past it. Everything within inches.
"That was some crazy shit!" a guy nearby exclaimed to him. And they both laughed.
"That's the IDS Building...Tallest skyscraper in the Midwest after the, uh, Sears in Chicago...Or the John Hancock Building. Whatever. You ever been to Minneapolis?"
-Fargo
Walking the clean streets of downtown Minneapolis, 80 degrees and hours of extra sunlight after dinner, it's hard to imagine a more pristine city. But this ain't reality and I and everyone else knows it. You can look around and see that Winter is both a fresh memory and a soon-to-be-arriving guest.
Twenty feet above downtown are dozens of glass-enclosed pedestrian bridges that connect this building to that one. Like a second, indoor set of sidewalks. It's easy to travel several blocks without ever stepping outside.
Each bridge I looked up at was empty. Hollow. Its people were here, beside me, on the sidewalk, sitting at patio tables in the shade, laughing with their good-looking friends. They know it's summer and it's short. They're going to make it count.
Former Governor Jesse Ventura.
The Mississippi River and downtown pictured from Nicollet Island.
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