Saturday Essay
Ripped on the Art Gallery Stroll in 2006
[Editor’s note: For this week’s essay we’ve once again pulled out a relic from the drunken compendium of Slim Goodbuzz, who served as Duluth’s “booze connoisseur” from 1999 to 2009. Twenty years ago the Sultan of Sot took a tour of Downtown Duluth art galleries and composed this article for the June 5, 2001 edition of the Ripsaw newspaper.]
Let’s get one thing straight: I love art. I mean, there’s no greater art than getting drunk. So, with that in mind, I’m on my way to the Art Gallery Stroll — the first of five monthly, multi-gallery art receptions this summer in Duluth. Pop those corks, artsy-fartsies; I’m out to get completely, utterly and entirely fucking Brandenburged.
Art receptions, as any seasoned alcoholic knows, are the most abundant source of complimentary wine in the world. But this adventure is about more than saving money; it’s about improving my health. Instead of sitting on a stool in a smoky room and staring dumbly at myself in a Budweiser mirror behind a bar, tonight I’m going to air out my hemorrhoids by walking around and staring dumbly at, for example, a clay sculpture of a bear with a cup and saucer on his head. (more…)
Ripped at Some Dude’s Cancer Benefit in 2001
[Editor’s note: For this week’s essay we’ve once again pulled out a relic from the drunken compendium of Slim Goodbuzz, who served as Duluth’s “booze connoisseur” from 1999 to 2009. Twenty-five years ago the Sultan of Sot paid a visit to the West Duluth American Legion and composed this article for the April 4, 2001 edition of the Ripsaw newspaper.]
So I pop into the American Legion last Saturday night and it smells like 1987. People definitely have their Brut by Fabregé on — at least the hoards of 35-year-olds who take up the bulk of the room do. But they’ve all brought their grannies and their kids, too, since everyone is here to help “offset medical expenses” for some dude named Dave who has been treated for the big C. And it’s obvious from the wall-to-wall people that this guy is a well-liked and respected member of the community, whoever he is. (more…)
The Fine China
My maternal grandmother purchased a nice set of porcelain dinnerware in 1953. That was back when ladies got all giddy over fine china. One of my grandmother’s sisters had the same set of dishes. Perhaps they were thinking they could lend each other matching teacups if either hosted a large gathering.
I’m certain my mother told me all the details related to the fine china numerous times over the years, but I didn’t really pay attention because she was talking about fine china and no one cares about fine china anymore.
Ten days before I was born, in 1972, my grandmother died. It’s a strange kind of grief for me to carry, because it comes with a sense that it began in utero. The idea of my mother’s sadness transferring to the fetal version of me is a little silly, of course, and probably manufactured entirely in my imagination, but still, my grandmother holds a heavy emotional sway with me for someone I never met. It is at least true that I entered the world into a family in mourning. Learning about it later is enough to make it a memory. When I see a photo of my grandmother or hear a story about her, it punches me in the gut because we came so close to meeting but never did. If a story about my grandmother involves fine china, however, my mind will wander because there are few things less interesting than fine china. (more…)
Every Day on Earth
Last month, I led a class at the University of Minnesota Duluth’s University for Seniors titled “The Pursuit of Better Possibilities.” We explored how all of us can lead more meaningful and resilient lives in our 60s and beyond. In the class, we talked about the importance and value of being creative and connected as well as discovering ways to simply be present and curious.
During the last session, I showed an interview with Dr. Jane Goodall on Netflix where she spent the last six minutes looking directly into the camera and shared her last message to the world. This interview was not aired until after her death. Goodall talked about how each of us has an important role to play on this planet and that our lives matter. She reminded us that we are part of the natural world and proposed that we can make a difference in addressing climate change and responding to the destruction of the biodiversity on the planet. She encouraged us to do everything possible to make the world a better place.
In that same session, I played a scene from the movie Patch Adams where the main character is standing before a medical review board defending himself and declaring his desire to become a doctor. When a member of the board addresses their concerns about his nontraditional approaches to helping patients and dealing with death, Patch states that death is not the enemy but that the most terrible disease of all is indifference. (more…)
Ripped at 21 North in 2006
[Editor’s note: For this week’s essay we’ve once again pulled out a relic from the drunken compendium of Slim Goodbuzz, who served as Duluth’s “booze connoisseur” from 1999 to 2009. Twenty years ago the Sultan of Sot paid a visit to 21 North, a short-lived nightclub at 21 N. Fourth Ave. W. in the Duluth Athletic Club building, and composed this article for the March 13, 2006 edition of the Ripsaw newspaper. 21 North closed in April 2007, when the Tap Room moved out of the Fitger’s building into its space. Less than a year later, the Tap Room closed.]
The first thought I have as I walk into 21 North is that somehow, suddenly, I’ve managed to walk into a room full of the type of guys who shave their pubes. Please don’t misunderstand; everyone here is fully clothed. This is just a suspicion I have. We’re talking hairy stomachs, hairy legs and a big pink arc of smoothness around the genitals.
I order a $4 whiskey-Coke, and it’s amazing how weak it is. While I might complain about a lot in this town, one thing’s for certain: No matter where you go, you rarely get a weak pour. Why the hell would a bartender care how much booze you get? In fact, it’s in his best interest to get you hammered because drunk people are very loose and generous with their money. Luckily, I’ve developed a policy for places like this: First sip, then tip. (more…)
Mark Twain and Joseph Conrad Destroy a Duluth Hotel Suite
Introduction
Historic hotels worldwide falsely claim the globe-spanning author Joseph Conrad was a former guest. However, it should come as no surprise that, while struggling with the untitled manuscript that would become Heart of Darkness, Conrad stayed the winter of 1898-1899 in a top-floor suite of Duluth’s Spalding Hotel. It was a suite he destroyed with Mark Twain after the two writers met in the gilt-muraled hotel bar and things got out of hand. The incident might have been forgotten but for the young Duluth Herald reporter on the scene who wrote an article about it.
Conrad, 41, the Polish exile living in England, was stranded in Duluth because he’d missed the departure of his cruise ship. He’d dashed into town to get a tooth pulled and it simply took too long. He was going to catch the next steamer out, but the freighter Marchande wrecked at the mouth of the canal. Then winter arrived and shut down the shipping season anyway — and he was only interested in traveling by ship. So although he missed his wife of two years back in England, he decided to winter in the Spalding, dreaming up ideas for his manuscript, and hopefully, a title. (more…)
Ripped at the Red Lion in 2001
[Editor’s note: For this week’s essay we’ve once again pulled out a relic from the drunken compendium of Slim Goodbuzz, who served as Duluth’s “booze connoisseur” from 1999 to 2009. Twenty-five years ago the Sultan of Sot paid a Valentine’s Day visit to the legendary Red Lion Bar in Duluth, and composed this article for the Feb. 21, 2001 edition of the Ripsaw newspaper. The ol’ “Roar by the Shore” closed in 2007 and is now the location of Zeitgeist Arts Café.]
So, it’s Valentine’s Day and here I am at one of my favorite watering holes, the Red Lion — the fucken Roar by the Shore. By all standards, this is not supposed to be the day to get ripped out of my godforsaken gourd. This is supposed to be the day to wear pink and purple, eat a whole helluva lot of candy and watch Richard Gere movies. I ask you this: Could there be a better day to puke your guts out?
The Red Lion is always awesome; it doesn’t matter if it’s full of pathetic drunks or young hip-ocrites slumming with Black Labels (the beer or the band). Either way, it’s full of my favorite folks on earth. Tonight it seems to be a good mixture of wasted middle-aged sots and good-looking lesbians: Yes, these are my people. (more…)
The Last Duckbilled Dinosaur in Duluth
Final entry in the field journal of UMD paleontologist Franklin Hall Moore, Sept. 1, 1984
The last duckbilled dinosaur in Duluth, down and out on the sand beach in the tropical climate of the late Cretaceous, feels drunk from the fermented newly-evolved berries of a now-extinct genus. Minnesota is closer to the equator, the constellations strange. He chases the scent of increasingly rare juicy ferns along the beach toward prehistoric Wisconsin.
The duckbill whips his tail against the harassing blue-feathered velociraptors trying to run him down like a pack of dogs. He’s ten feet tall at the hip but they see he’s got a small limp from a wound that won’t heal on his right foreleg. They also see the sore tumor on his tiger-striped orange back. So they’d separated him from his herd — over the hill in what will evolve into the mallscape of Hermantown — and chased him to this strip of sand, the border between a retreating lagoon and the forested rift valley that will become Lake Superior. (more…)
Beautiful Days
So many things are happening around our city and the country that are confusing, difficult to understand and often display a certain degree of ugliness about our world. There are more people on the streets who are homeless, mass shootings, a rise in Nazi and fascist groups, the East Wing of the White House has been torn down, and ICE agents continue threatening and arresting our neighbors.
And from around the world, we’re dealing with climate change, wars in such places as Gaza and the Ukraine, and pandemics.
In times like these, how do we create and embrace beauty? How can you and I uplift the beautiful spirit that flickers in all of us, even in those darkest moments? How do we represent our better angels and bring beauty to our city by the lake?
Maybe, it begins by asking a simple question. How do I stay human? In a world of angry rhetoric, divisive politics, impatience, noise, growing disparity, self-absorption, and isolation, how do I stay human? The first steps could be embracing our humility, a search for meaning beyond our personal lives, and the resilience to find a moral compass that guides and directs us. (more…)
The Most Read Saturday Essays of 2025
Perfect Duluth Day’s “Saturday Essay” series has now run for ten years. The second half of that decade has seen Jim Richardson dominate the annual list of most-read compositions. Since 2020, Google Analytics stats show Richardon’s essays have landed in 21 of the 25 top-five slots. Long live Lake Superior Aquaman! (more…)
Ripped at Tyomies in 2000
[Editor’s note: For this week’s essay we’ve once again pulled out a relic from the archive of Slim Goodbuzz, who served as Duluth’s “booze connoisseur” from 1999 to 2009. Twenty-five years ago the Sultan of Sot paid a visit to Tyomies, 601 Tower Ave. in Superior, and composed this article for the Dec. 12, 2000 edition of the Ripsaw newspaper. Tyomies closed at some point prior to 2014, when Sweeden Sweets took over the space.]
This restroom is huge! And everything is squeaky clean, but already there’s a dude in here christening the place with a bleeeeeeeee yyyyyyyyyy aaaaaaaaa kkkkkkkkkkk. He’s paying homage to the porcelain god, and the porcelain god is shiny new and still has a sticker on it. When he finishes, he positively springs back up on his feet — happy as can be — then flushes and gives me a wink and a thumbs-up before heading out the door.
I love when a new bar opens in town. For one thing, there are usually a lot of drink specials to attract new clientele. Also, unlike in every other bar in this rat-ass city, no one there knows me, so the staff is usually pretty friendly to me. In addition to that, new places are usually pretty empty, so there’s little chance of someone there ruining my buzz for me. I try to hit a new bar a couple of times before all of you losers discover it and wreck the place by making me deal with you. (more…)
Become the Dark
It took me 25 years to acclimatize to Duluth, and the big hurdle was these long winter nights. Here’s how I did it.
One day I thought, as long as I’m hopelessly depressed and dysfunctional, maybe I should dig a crawlspace under my all-time low and sort of, you know, make it cozy in there?
Step one: Uncouple your mood from the weather, to the greatest extent possible.
This took me two decades to get the hang of, but it can be done. Duluth is going to give you some ass weather. Conversely, when Duluth is nice, it’s God’s country. But if you let Duluth’s ass weather get to you, you’re effed. It’s a bad place to be sensitive to gray days and one of the coldest, longest winters anywhere in the country, the world even. Duluth in February — when winter is more than half over! — may be compared to the ice moons of Jupiter. And then you might get a chilly summer. So, welcome to town, buckle up, get ahold of yourself, and appreciate the city for what it is besides the weather.
We’re so far north, the path of the sun weaves dramatically across the sky as the seasons progress. You can feel the wobble of the globe. Don’t let it dizzy you or give you motion sickness as the sun stays out a different number of minutes per day. We can have extreme and long winters, and short summers of varying quality. It’s not personal.
Ripped at the Saloon in 2000
[Editor’s note: For this week’s essay we’ve once again pulled out a relic from the archive of Slim Goodbuzz, who served as Duluth’s “booze connoisseur” from 1999 to 2009. Twenty-five years ago the Sultan of Sot paid a visit to the Saloon, 1807 N. 11th St., in Superior, and composed this article for the Nov. 1, 2000 edition of the Ripsaw newspaper. The Saloon later became Temple Bar and then Mike’s Place.]
I was just about ready to sit down to a drink a six-pack of Old Peculiar, devour a carton of grade-D chop suey and watch the USA cable network movie, when it happened. Now, I’m no psychic, but I could feel — I just knew — someone in this town was giving away beer. You can’t just ignore a feeling like that. I stuck my untouched food and drink in the fridge, jammed a tape in the VCR to record the Addams Family double-feature and headed off into the night to seek my destiny.
I remembered that the Bayfront Blues Saloon had recently closed and reopened as, simply, the Saloon. The blues version of the saloon was always a mediocre experience waiting to happen, so I thought I’d check out the new and improved action. (more…)
The True Story of the 1963 Duluth Third Place Little League World Series Champions
The 1963 Little League World Series was played Aug. 24 in South Williamsport, Pennsylvania, at the Howard J. Lamade Stadium to 10,000 spectators. The series has since been given a cover story by the deep state, including the first-ever little league television footage, which was faked to keep America calm. The true story of the Duluth All-Stars is so explosive that it could not be told until now, more than half a century later.
A Midwest ring of Soviet spies developed a signaling mechanism invisible to the CIA, or so they thought. Eschewing radio and microfilm dead drops as vulnerable to interception, the Russians infiltrated the global little league ecosystem, and used manipulated game statistics to convey coded messages to agents in the field. One or two closet communist coaches in prime positions, a handful of greedy assistant coaches tactically placed, and a blackmailed umpire were enough to communicate covert instructions to sleeper assassins from Missouri to Manitoba, printed in every regional paper in the local sports stats. (more…)
North Country Trail in Wisconsin: Returning to the Border
During a group hike in spring 2024, I covered a new section of the North Country Trail in Wrenshall. At the time I didn’t think much about how my essay series is about the trail “in Wisconsin,” yet almost all of that hike was in Minnesota.
A few years ago, the Wisconsin section of the North Country Trail was all in Wisconsin, because it hadn’t been built yet near the Minnesota state line. The Minnesota side of the trail ended in the woods at the border, and the only way to start the trail at the Wisconsin side was to hike various highways to get to the parts of the trail that had been built.
Now that an official border route through the woods exists, however, the trail enters Wisconsin and runs for about a mile, slants over into Minnesota for about two miles, then swings back into Wisconsin.
There was a small part of that new section in Wrenshall I didn’t see on that group hike, because there was snow on the ground, groups move slower than individuals, and the rest of the group didn’t share my quest to cover every single bit of the trail. So I went back in the fall. (more…)
Mittens
This mitten thing started when I sent The Maker a message asking about scraps. Pretty sure it was sometime in 2022, which I’m also pretty sure was last year. He and I didn’t really know each other. I had admired his work for a while. Maybe we had already sold some bicycle parts back and forth. But maybe that came after. I know and I don’t. Time gets weird as it piles up and evaporates, and I am a partially reliable narrator at best about these and a lot of other things.
My message asked if his work, which includes cutting up wool blankets to make remarkably nice anoraks and jackets for winter expeditions, ever leaves him with leftovers. I was hoping he could give me a piece of fabric just big enough for patching a couple buttonholes and a pocket corner on a plaid wool shirt I’d worn ungently since paying $7 for it at Savers. He sent back something like, “I’ve got a couple garbage bags full. You can have it all if you want it.” I said I did without knowing why. My only use for wool scraps was fixing those small spots on that one shirt, and Ms. LaCount (my wife) and I try hard to minimize our clutter. (more…)
Ripped at the Pickwick in 2000
[Editor’s note: For this week’s essay we’ve once again pulled out a relic from the archive of Slim Goodbuzz, who served as Duluth’s “booze connoisseur” from 1999 to 2009. Twenty-five years ago the Sultan of Sot paid a visit to Duluth’s venerable Pickwick, and composed this article for the Oct. 4, 2000 edition of the Ripsaw newspaper. The Pickwick’s bar underwent significant renovations in 2010 and now features televisions.]
Call me romantic, but when my special lady friend said she was growing tired of seedy dives, I decided to treat her to a classy night at the Pickwick, where the two of us could get ripped in style.
It shouldn’t really be that difficult to make a bar a comfortable place to imbibe, yet it’s surprising how many truly annoying bars there are in this area. The Pickwick has it just right: extremely dim lighting, dark wood paneling, good furniture, no neon beer lights, no tacky antique signs, no TVs. And even though the room is decorated with taxidermy, it’s as tasteful and interesting as taxidermy can be. The only things lacking are a good sound system and a room full of couches and armchairs. But since the bar serves mainly as an area for diners to wait for tables on busy nights, it’s extremely unlikely that the Pickwick will be booking live music or ordering La-Z-Boys anytime soon. (more…)
The Days That Sustain Us
It’s about nine in the morning. I’m sitting on a bench at the Rose Garden. Enjoying the sun, slight breeze and expecting the temperature to reach the mid-seventies. Truly a beautiful day. Days like this, when I can be outside, definitely sustain me.
About a month ago, on Aug. 17, Mayor Roger Reinert wrote a commentary for the Minnesota Star Tribune entitled “We’re actively shaping our city’s future.” In that commentary, Reinert stated, “Duluth is growing and thriving exactly because we are taking the deliberate and measurable action steps necessary to secure the future of our beloved Zenith City.”
Within several weeks of that piece coming out, I heard and confirmed that the mayor had decided not to hire a full-time sustainability officer to replace the former officer, Mindy Granley, who resigned in February. In fact, Reinart announced that the city was no longer looking for anyone to fill that position and the sustainability initiative was not a top priority.
In reflecting upon the mayor’s decision, I thought of something I read in Jordan Peterson’s book Beyond Order: 12 More Rules For Life. Jordan wrote, “It appears that the meaning that most effectively sustains life is to be found in the adoption of responsibility.” So I had to ask myself, was Reinert being a responsible mayor and public servant when he decided to not hire a sustainability officer. (more…)
Duluth 75 Years Later
[Editor’s note: Duluth was featured in The Saturday Evening Post in a 1949 article written by Arthur W. Baum. Seventy-five years later, in 2024, Baum’s great-great nephew, Jordan Haedtler, began gathering his thoughts for an update, which appears below. Haedtler has recently printed both essays, as well as another essay about Duluth and climate change, in a book that can be ordered through Google Forms.]
The citizens of nearly every hub city or port city or twin city must look at this moment of rapid planetary warming ponderously. Many seaside cities worry anxiously at their fate amidst rising oceans, while tourist destinations fret about the damage to their core infrastructure, and bustling business hubs nervously eye the economic forecasts. This makes the case of gritty and resilient Duluth — with its aging housing stock dotting a hillside overlooking the western terminus of the Great Lakes — unique.
For Duluth has not had to wonder about its role in the climate crisis or desire outside attention on the subject since April 15, 2019. That was the day Harvard professor Jesse Keenan came to the city to deliver a lecture called “Destination Duluth,” in which Keenan emphasized the potential for Duluth, sitting as it does on the edge of all that fresh water, to rebrand itself as “Climate Proof,” attracting new residents after decades of economic stagnation. (more…)
Adrift in the Duluth Triangle
[Author’s note: This originally ran in the 2024 Boubville zine. My title does not refer to the “Bar-muda Triangle” promotions of the West Duluth bar scene. This story was intended to be the start of a novella, a roman-à-clef about a barfly surviving depression. Each chapter was going to take place in a different establishment and be based on actual events, a “hero’s journey” bar crawl through the underworld one night. But after writing this first chapter, it seemed complete in itself as a short story, so I am calling it done. Borges wrote, “It is a laborious madness and an impoverishing one, the madness of composing vast books — setting out in 500 pages an idea that can be perfectly related in five minutes.” That said, this story of life before Covid could be a prequel to this essay about when Covid hit.]
2019. From Sir Benedict’s Tavern on the Lake, to Vikre Distillery, to the Pizza Lucé bar, then back to Sir Ben’s: This is the Duluth Triangle. Stranded in its vortex for five years, between myself and my hillside home lies a gauntlet of the finest distilleries, tap rooms, and bars in the world. It is a puzzle solved differently every night. Like the doctor in Nightwood said to Djuna Barnes: “The night is not premeditated.” (more…)
Ripped at the North Pole Bar in 2000
[Editor’s note: For this week’s essay we’ve once again pulled out a relic from the archive of Slim Goodbuzz, who served as Duluth’s “booze connoisseur” from 1999 to 2009. Twenty-five years ago the Sultan of Sot paid a visit to the North Pole Bar in West Duluth, and composed this article for the Aug. 23, 2000 edition of the Ripsaw newspaper. The North Pole Bar went out of business in 2014.]
Reeking of Kentucky bourbon and tuna-fish sandwiches, Walter stepped out of the fog and into my life. “I’ve been drinking since 4:30,” he told me. “My old lady passed out already, but I’m still goin’ strong. I’m heading to the North Pole.”
“So am I,” I said.
I had not heard of the North Pole Bar until I got an email tip from the commander of the West Duluth VFW. “I don’t know if you’ve ever been down on Raleigh Street,” he wrote, “but my main hang out is the North Pole Bar.” When the commander of the West Duluth VFW talks, I listen. (more…)
These Summer Days
On July 27, Northern News Now reported that Duluth had a heat index of 101 degrees, with Eveleth hitting 104 and Two Harbors reaching 106. Three days earlier, the lead story on NNN was about Minnesota having another air-quality alert due to the Canadian wildfires. It was also the 27th day that Duluth had been under an air-quality alert since May.
And then three days before that, on July 21, Wisconsin Public Radio ran a story about the Great Lakes region warming up about 3 degrees and precipitation increasing by 15%. A study by the Environmental Law and Policy Center showed that summer water temperatures on Lake Superior warmed up by 4.8 degrees between 1979 and 2023. Also, the region would likely see more extreme weather patterns, including 30 to 60 days of temperatures over 90 degrees.
Also, on July 21, there was an article in the New York Times headlined “Climate change is making fire weather worse for world’s forests.” According to a study in the journal Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, the area of forests lost to fire in 2023 and 2024 was at least two times greater than the annual average of the previous two decades. It reported that climate change is making severe fire weather more common around the world. (more…)
Sir Duluth Historical Timeline
Daniel Greysolon, Sieur du Luht, was an influential French explorer whose name anglicizes to Sir Duluth. He signed his letters “Dulhut,” participating in his own casual anglicization despite the constant conflict his nation had with England. I call him Duluth, synonymous with our present-day, American city, whose name he inspired.
1639: Duluth is born in Saint-Germain-Laval, France.
1650: Duluth is 11 when the first modern philosopher René Descartes dies age 53 in Stockholm, Sweden. A letter from the young Duluth lies on the bedside table, offering a common-sense critique of Descartes’ notion that animals are automatons who may be vivisected. “I guess you’ve never owned a pet,” the boy’s careful handwriting says. The letter continues, “‘I think therefore I am’ is meaningless since grounds for doubting existence do not exist. You torture language like you torture dogs.” It has been suggested that Descartes was so distressed to have his life’s work effortlessly eviscerated by a child that he quickly succumbed to pneumonia and died.
A View from Montreal Pier: The R/V Blue Heron
Not long after I disembarked from the research vessel Blue Heron in June, it was announced that a new form of life had been discovered inside the propeller shaft. A life form, hidden inside the extreme environment of the engine, cold and dark — it feels like how the Venom movies started. It feels maybe a little Lovecraftian, maybe, this shapeless life form, in the black goo.
My colleagues laugh at me for thinking in such melodramatic terms. But really, ever since that ride, I just keep learning how cripplingly limited my understanding of Lake Superior, and of our relationship to it, really was. I’m still trying to wrap my brain around it.
Finding the Blue Heron
The Blue Heron is docked in Superior on Montreal Pier, a research facility maintained by the University of Wisconsin-Superior. The site itself is a weird mishmash of history. The Montreal Pier, Quebec Pier and Allouez Bay are all a reminder of the deep affect French Jesuits and fur traders had on the Superior region.
By the early twentieth century, these piers were incredible sites of commerce. Superior was in competition with the Minneapolis area as the center of wheat and grain production, and several major companies built grain elevators and mills on the piers — Lake Superior Mills, Anchor, Listman, Cargill, and Belt Line. Most of these structures were destroyed in fires. (more…)
Ripped in Toronto in 2000
[Editor’s note: For this week’s essay we’ve once again pulled out a relic from the archive of Slim Goodbuzz, who served as Duluth’s “booze connoisseur” from 1999 to 2009. Twenty-five years ago the Sultan of Sot hit the road for a visit to Toronto, Canada, and composed this article for the July 12, 2000 edition of the Ripsaw newspaper.]
“Nobody helps you with your cup
No one could ever fill it up.”
—The Sadies
Prelude: Detroit Metro
It was 11:15 a.m. and I was sitting in one of the many cafes at the Detroit Metropolitan Airport, waiting for my connecting flight to Toronto. Everybody else drank coffee and ate pastries. My flight had been delayed two hours. I needed whiskey.
The Price is Right was on the TV above the espresso machine. Bob Barker put his arm around a gaunt middle-aged woman while they watched a cardboard mountain climber ascend a cardboard mountain, singing:
Laaa dee doody
Laaa dee doody
Laaa dee doody dooooo … (more…)