Someday, hopefully years from now, someone will face the task of going through all the “stuff” in my office and will find a box.
It is postmarked April 2, 2010. It has an address label on the side:
From: John Hatcher
To: Sam Cook
Here’s my request: Don’t open it.
If you simply have to know what’s in it, I can just tell you that part: It’s one of those sporty Nalgene water bottles. I can’t honestly remember what color or what style, but I do know it has a University of Minnesota Duluth logo on it. What the box contains isn’t why I’ve kept it unopened for nearly seven years now.
The water bottle was a gift, not to me but from me. The intended recipient was Sam Cook, longtime (that’s polite for old) journalist and columnist for the Duluth News Tribune. It was a way of thanking him for coming to my journalism class.
It might seem too early to be thinking about fresh local vegetables. The growing season around Lake Superior doesn’t generally start until May, but area farmers are already busy planning their crops and ordering seeds. The signup period has begun for most farms offering community supported agriculture subscriptions. The online CSA Signup Day is today, Feb. 24; Duluth’s CSA open house is March 19.
Farm shares offer a direct method for consumers to access fresh food from local growers. Members buy a seasonal “share” from the farm. During harvest time, which is generally mid-June to mid-December, members go to a designated spot each week to pick up a box of mixed seasonal produce.
Please tell us about the medium you work in, and how you came to work in your style. Stack Prints is a pizza-eating boy band of four Duluth-based graphic designers, Cody, Taylor, Stephen, & Tyler. We run an online store, pull squeegees in our screen print shop, and advocate for art & design education. We’re kinda like the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
As the failing winter of 2016-’17 continues, we take another look back to a decade ago and the amazing freeze over Lake Superior. In this video from Feb. 22, 2007, “Duluthom” skates the big lake, accelerated by wind power and a simple umbrella.
Keegan Burckhard directed this video as a part of his senior exhibition as a digital art and photography student at the University of Minnesota Duluth. It was projected in the Tweed Museum of Art Feb. 14-19.
Sept. 29, 1985 — Dawn Kee, with daughter Melissa, 4, and holding son, Jeremiah, 2, shouts to husband, Chief Signalman Rick Kee, who is among crew arriving at Swan Island for overhaul of USS Duluth. She said she was living in a motel until the family found housing but was “excited” about living in Portland.
Duluth Pottery co-owners Tom Hollenhorst and Karin Kraemer pose in the loft of their new art studio with partner artist Luke Krisak. Duluth Pottery is remodeling the former P&J Paint building in the West End.
The art world is quickly carving out space for itself in an ambitious neighborhood revitalization project in Duluth’s West End neighborhood.
An established Twin Ports potter, a new gallery and retail store with studio space and an arts arm of an American Indian social service organization have all recently announced plans to renovate and open buildings on West Superior Street. All three projects fall within the boundaries of the Lincoln Park Craft District, a rebranding and redevelopment effort organized by neighborhood businesses last year.
I’m watching the action at the Minnesota State Legislature with an eye toward what is happening in Duluth, too.
I look at these two initiatives. I wish I had some principle here, like “local control is always best” or something like that, but I don’t. I just prefer the results of the Duluth ordinance over the results of the state law. If I liked the results of the state law better, I would prefer that.
What do you think, comparing:
The work of Duluth’s “Earned Sick and Safe Time Task Force,” which “gathers information, collects public input, proposes the best options for implementing ESST policies and brings forward policy recommendations.”
SF 580 as introduced – 90th Legislature (2017 – 2018)
A bill for an act relating to employment; providing uniformity for employment mandates on private employers;proposing coding for new law in Minnesota Statutes, chapter 181.
Oh, the random relics that land on the kitchen table at the Perfect Duluth Day Headquarters. We’ve also scanned all 15 interior pages of this issue of Lincoln Park School’s fancy old newsletter, which appear below, but take heed in the warning that it’s pretty dry stuff in general — everything from mazes and recipes to the school lunch menu. One thing of note is page 2, which is a ridiculously long list of items in the lost and found.
In 1999, my ex-husband gave me a computer. I was pretty glad to get it. I had mastered emailing, and was ready to move on to the really exciting things, like AOL and internet porn.
Let’s get this clear right away: I’m not a huge porn fan. My porn experience at that point was limited to the following:
1. A couple of magazines unearthed by a 13-year-old me, in ~1985 in my mom’s friend’s attic. They were evidently from the 1970s. My suspicion was based largely on the unusual prevalence of mustaches and floppy boobies. (Throw in a headshot of Spiro Agnew and my argument is airtight.) They were disturbingly graphic and unaltered. Sans digital enhancement, the naked people all looked like slabs of pork tenderloin. With mustaches and floppy boobies.
2. A porn movie a boyfriend rented to watch with me. Everyone seemed really, really angry in it. With the volume down, their sexing faces all looked like they were watching Newt Gingrich pole dance in assless chaps and an American flag tank top. (He has bootstraps tattooed on his inner thighs, by the way. Interesting tidbit.)
3. My parents’ copy of The Joy of Sex, which was hidden under some sweaters in my dad’s closet. Finding that book in that spot was the single best abstinence education any parent could possibly provide. The idea of my disgusting parents contorting their old disgusting bodies into those disgusting and inexplicable configurations was enough to keep me from so much as holding hands until I was 16 years old.