This photo popped up on Pinterest a while back. It’s dated 1962. Photographer unknown.
Duluth’s first diesel buses began operating in 1957 under the auspices of the Duluth-Superior Transit Company. The Duluth Transit Authority was created in 1969, so one could say the bus in the photo above is a DTA before there was a DTA.
Duluthians don’t typically venture north of Hermantown to eat dinner, but now there’s a reason for the ride. The Cast Iron Bar and Grill opened three months ago in the old Le Grand Supper Club space in the Pike Lake area.
As a constantly growing media giant, Perfect Duluth Day is once again looking to expand its crew of people who sell those advertisements that are so handsomely stacked on the right column of the pages of this website (or in between the content if you are looking at PDD on a smartphone).
If you are a reader of PDD who hates advertising and gets nervous when reading something like this, rest assured that although PDD strives to sell more advertising to support its vast infrastructure, ads on the site will continue to be confined to appropriate space and never come in the form of a pop-up or auto-play video. We respect you too much for that.
One time, I got a bug stuck in my ear. Which is a funny coincidence, since I have always wanted to never have a bug in my ear.
It happened in early summer, and I was fast asleep. At some point around 4 a.m., I was awakened by the sound of a helicopter crash-landing inside my head. I, like all humans on the planet, have experienced bug fly-bys of my ears on many occasions. Bees, for example, seem to really like my ears. They enjoy repeatedly buzzing up behind me, like fat, airborne playground bullies, chasing me around the swingset. Their dumptrucky buzzing is a nice reminder that a bee is almost in my ear. I like to run around my yard, waving my hands around my head and saying, “You won’t even fit in there! And I’ll probably kill you if you try, which I really don’t want to do because you’re the future! You’re the future!” I bet this is pretty funny to my neighbors.
Generally, I dislike flying insects. It seems like they get an unfair advantage. They are already bitey and stingy and too-many-leggy and wearing chitinous exoskeletal armor over their loathsome, malevolent silhouettes. If any bug were as big as a person, we would all freak the fuck out, even if it had a lovely personality. It would take a lot of paradigm adjustment and acceptance, not to mention furniture and undergarment redesign. Twenty percent of all meditation would be to gain control of involuntary shuddering.
This photo was found in the Duluth Playhouse‘s archives. The kids, enjoying concessions at the NorShor movie theater in what appears to be the 1960s, are listed as: “Sandy Audio? Atto, Otto, Ottio? 5 years” and “Judy Hanson 8 years.”
Perhaps you’ve wondered what it takes to open your own retail space. Here is the formula that worked for one of my neighbors: intense physical pain + $7,200 in startup costs + burnout and restlessness + a debilitating medical diagnosis + a whole lot of elbow grease = one art gallery. And that’s about all it takes.
The story of Lakeside Gallery, Aaron Kloss’s new venture, is incredible. Check it out at Ed’s Big Adventure.
This week, we look at the quiet, fascinating photography of Richard Colburn.
R.C.: As a photographer I am interested in the social landscape, the idea that a photograph is drawn from life and engages, however eccentrically, being human and alive. There is a wonderful circularity in this way of working in that the photograph originates in the world and through carefully viewing of that photograph we see the world with fresh eyes. That refreshed vision is the result of carefully considering not only the subject but also how the photographer employs the language of photography. That language includes a photographer’s knowledge of materials and processes and history of the medium.
It may be asking a lot for a viewer to make such an effort when we live in a world clotted with easily made and circulated images that are consumed in an instant.
One century ago, Duluth hosted the 44th annual regatta of the National Association of Amateur Oarsmen. The event ran Aug. 11 and 12, 1916, with the Duluth team winning nine of the 12 events it entered.