Uptown Rantz

Don't Wanna Be No Uptown Fool

Archive for the category “Uptown”

Goin’ Home

I’m taking a weekend trip back to Minneapolis over Halloween weekend. Kristine has to work, so I’ll be solo, which is how I preferred anyway. I’ll stop by Cheney’s studio in Loring Park and drink Corona and eat pasta. I’ll stop by Parker’s duplex in Linden Hills and drink Heineken and hear about the escorts he’s been fucking.

I want to walk around Uptown and feel something, maybe even a longing for the neighborhood I called home for seven years, and the dirty, cold winters spent drinking pints and eating pizza slices at Green Mill. Some of those pint-nights were black-out carelessness and others were attempts at smothering an attack of depression stemming from feeling powerless over my life and wanting someone to come home to.

It was the days of thinking I would never make it out of the copywriter boredom of Thomson Reuters. It was that very boredom and frustration that led to the birth of this blog. It’s important to walk through memories now-and-then, even the bad ones…especially the bad ones. If for no other reason than to remind myself that I went through all of that and I’m still here.


Minneapolis, Heather Brown and Cheesecake

Opening the Liquor Lyle’s door and it’s an evening I don’t mind the walk home…past the smoker hipsters and the pudgy asshole bouncer who thinks a tight Under Armour shirt makes him look like Marky Mark in the Calvin Klein ads circa 1992 (Not. Even. Close. Bud!).  Man-boobs ain’t pecs.

Walking down Hennepin Avenue tonight makes me feel slightly guilty about ever wanting to leave this place – not just Uptown, but Minneapolis entirely.  It’s crossed my mind many times in years past…usually around February when I’m mentally prepping for SXSW and my mistress, Austin.

Oh yes, Minneapolis, you’ve embarrassed me in the past by still trying to hang your hat of relevancy on Purple Rain.  Whatever became of Wendy and Lisa?  They should at least have a gig as talking-heads on a VH1 I Love the 80’s marathon.  Courtney Love briefly called you home in the 90’s, but they wrote better songs and dressed cooler in the northwest…Bunyan wore flannel before Cobain.  You’ve had some flashes of your glory days, but American Headcharge faded when nu-metal did.  Motion City Soundtrack is rightfully called Motion Shitty Soundtrack.  And The Hold Steady’s remarkable debut was a concept album about you, but they’ve since re-located to New York where they now get drunk with The Strokes in the Bowery District.

But I see WCCO’s Heather Brown and I think that there’s still hope for you.  That and the fact that Kowalski’s on Hennepin is 24 hours, which allows me to savor this cheesecake slice.

For now, I’ll toss the empty Coors tallboy in the trash because I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and be reminded that I finished my last beer at 2:59 a.m.  I insert the lime-green earplugs because the window air conditioner is bellowing three feet from my bed.  I’ll be in my cube in six hours.

The Frankenstein Twins of the Twin Cities

The above two are un-affectionately known as the Frankenstein Twins around here…do I even need to explain why? These identical monsters can often be seen lumbering around south Minneapolis with the above-girl.  It’s a supremely awkward-looking trio.  On the most humid of days they are walking around the lakes in jeans and Teva sneakers – each Frankenstein Twin trying to talk over the other while she futilely attempts to listen to both.  Many believe that she’s the scientist who created the two in her Uptown laboratory so she wouldn’t have to sit by strangers on the bus.

A South Mpls Waitress and Husker Du

Went to the bar tonight for what I said would be only a couple.  Stayed ’til after close and at 3:07am I was home listening to Husker Du sing about a girl walking down a sunny street to the library and checking out the latest books about outer-space.

But talking to Melissa at the bar, I realized that she was born with that beauty.  Her bad days are probably kept to a minimum because strangers are always nice to her for her sculpted cheek bones, strong jawline, blue eyes and shampoo-commercial hair.  If Meaghan Fox and Angelina Jolie were sisters and they had a little sister, it would be Melissa. There’s no such thing as bad lighting for her – not even airplane bathroom lighting.  I doubt she’s ever been afraid to look head-on into a mirror. She’ll always be greeted with a smile and will always make married men briefly forget about their wives.

But for now, my liver is drowning and begging for air…caught in a riptide of Heineken and Stoli.

Brazilians in Uptown

The Brazilians – Oh, we know a little about y’all.  You’ve lived as renters in the same house for over 10 years.  Renting for that long either speaks to your seemingly lack of gainful employment, or maybe you just like that house that much.  How are you always home?

There’s been a rotating cast of inhabitants in your house over the years.  The only constant being the short, skinny guy whose dreads make him look like Predator.  You’ve pissed off numerous neighbors with early morning bongo drums, late night parties and your belief that the entire street wants to hear your Caribbean-inspired music.  You give us no choice but to call the Minneapolis Police dispatcher.  Remember that time when the squad car pulled-up to your party and your entire front yard of guests took off running in all directions?  Fuckin’ hilarious!   And that time you decided to try and mow your lawn with a noisy-ass weedwacker?  Don’t ever do that again.

You all stand in the front yard and cat-call the pretty Uptown girls that park on the street and walk to Drink and Stella’s.  I feel compelled to tell you that American women are not attracted to skinny men with rancid body odor…unless the woman in question is named Audrina Patridge, but you’re all old enough to be her constantly-high dad.

The suburbanites that brunch in Uptown on weekends think you’re unique and a part of Uptown’s character.  But if you moved next to them in Eden Prairie it would be a case of white-flight the likes this city hasn’t seen since the Jews fled North Minneapolis.

Relax, no one wants to run you out of Uptown.  But if you decide to leave on your own, no one is stopping you either.

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