Tonight we settled down with the dogs and the warm blankets and watched SOUL on Disney+. And it was nice to watch. It's a good thing that we upgraded tvs last year, because we have spent a lot of time over the last 9+ months watching things on it. From things meant for the small screen (ranging from Tiger King to The Queen's Gambit ), to things that were adapted for it (like Beatrix's choir concerts), it's been our portal to the world (as it has for all of you, you're reading these very words on some kind of screen right now). Today, the New York Times suggested spending New Year's Eve viewing an electronic broadcast that tours the world and "experiences" midnight in each time zone, or creating an avatar and joining a virtual Times Square. Then there are our meetings and happy hours and even holiday celebrations, all stacked boxes on a zoom screen (if we are lucky, or some other permutation like glitchy conference calls if we are not). And as I wa
My world lost a lot of good people this weekend: - Aldo Moroni, who taught me not to be afraid of clay. Everyy time I went to see an exhibit of his or we hung out I was a richer person for it. I especially remember Patrick, Beatrix, my dad and myself making towers in his studio together one Saturday morning. They still sit on my mantle. He was always thankful that we would lend him the truck when needed and kept on saying we should come pick out a tower in trade; I wish we had. - Michal Daniel, a true magician with the camera, who caught every theater in town on film. He moved to Prague about 5 years ago, and now I am doubly sad he did not make it back for the Theatre de la Jeune Lune show at FilmNorth , which featured so many of his amazing images. But the one that hurts the most is losing Kevin O'Brien. I didn't know Kevin when I first moved into the neighborhood. His late sister, Marianne, was ... umm ... well, a force ... and Kevin preferred to stay out of the limelight.
My parents divorced when I was two, and my dad purchased the duplex at 4109-4111 Sheridan Avenue South in Linden Hills not all that long after that. Which is to say, while I grew up "So Saint Paul," there was also a part of me that was from Minneapolis too. As I grew up, we hung out there every Saturday, and while my dad took afternoon naps I made fairy gardens in the yard, made "pens" from the fake bamboo growing everywhere, or climbed to the top of the big cedar tree outside. I hung out upstairs with his tenants, or next door with the Orfields and the pig or turkey they had at that time. Every summer I spent a couple of overnights there, sometimes with friends — where we could sit on the front steps and talk to boys as they walked past. One time I spent there I got really sick, and went through 6 of my dad's t-shirts worn as nightshirts as I puked all night. I made little cubbyholes for "The Borrowers" to find things. My room was (and is to this da