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BEST CITY STATUTE Minneapolis Code of Ordinances 385.360
We were tempted to choose the Minneapolis provision governing "hats, conduct in theaters," which bars the wearing of "any headgear" in a "theater, auditorium or place of amusement." Or the one that says, "No person, in any public or private place, shall enter a toilet designated for the use of the opposite sex..." Or the law that bans "climbing a building without consent." But in the end, our favorite had to be Minneapolis Ordinance 385.360, governing "Advertising sexual remedies." In the age of Viagra, the law virtually exudes Victorian quaintness: "No person shall publish or cause to be published any advertisement intended to imply or to be understood that he will restore manly vigor, treat or cure lost manhood, lost power, stricture, gonorrhea, chronic discharges, gleet, varicocele, chancroid, syphilis, or private diseases." Ahem. Hell, just reading the thing is enough to restore "manly vigor."
BEST LINE IN MAYOR SHARON SAYLES BELTON'S STATE OF THE CITY ADDRESS "Riverfront housing development is so hot...!"
Maybe to you February 10 was just another day in the chilly city. But for City Pages it was the time to hear Minneapolis Mayor Sharon Sayles Belton deliver her seventh State of the City address at Plymouth Congregational Church in south Minneapolis! Only 9 of 13 council members made it--fairly weak attendance for elected officials, we thought! As the youth choir sang to kick things off, we counted no less than 17 ferns onstage! Later, sifting through the scripted copy of the speech, we counted no less than 53(!) exclamation points! in the mayor's prepared remarks. Over the course of her voluble--some would say interminable, if not butt-burning--remarks, the mayor paid lip service to every city department, policy, and service you could think of. She never said, "We built this city on rock and roll," but she came (kinda) close in a slight detour off the script. Noting that Tina Turner would be opening her latest world tour in Minneapolis, Sayles Belton riffed, "As a dedication to Tina Turner, I want you to know that we are rolling on the Minneapolis riverfront...Riverfront housing development is so hot, it is sizzling just like Tina Turner!"
BEST TOURIST TRAP Downtown Minneapolis
While the city pours its treasury into the drama of underwriting a Hennepin Avenue theater district, artless entrepreneurialism rules on First Avenue. It is here that the people flock in droves any time the mercury climbs above 50 degrees--like animals strutting to the watering hole come springtime to select fit mates. It's Brothers. Liquid. South Beach. Club Ashé. The New French. The Lounge. Many of these visitors are strangers to the city, people whose lives take place at the periphery of the highways that have three digits in their name. They come in groups of a dozen on colorful motorcycles, and they come by pickup truck. Their hair is wet and their teeth are straight and their skirts are hiked up to Tipperary. As long as a person is willing to drink like a member of the Russian duma, and get groped like livestock at the State Fair, she has a sure place here. They follow the flash of the neon beer sign, and they knock drinks back until every light in the city seems to be flashing--which might explain why, around midnight, they're often found wandering through intersections at inopportune moments, as if looking for a missing contact lens in the crosswalk. Is Minneapolis a new Sin City, or a foolhardy collective exercise in binge drinking? As long as the revelers keep paying sales tax, no one will ever stop them to ask.
BEST CRAZIEST IDEA WE'VE EVER HEARD Gondolas over St. Paul
Since first getting elected mayor of St. Paul in 1993, Norm Coleman has played the role of civic cheerleader to the hilt. The pom-poms seem to suit him. He lured Minneapolis-based Lawson Software to relocate in downtown St. Paul and helped engineer the National Hockey League's return to Minnesota. Yeah, he's spent millions of public money along the way, but St. Paulites reelected him anyway and he often gets what he wants from the city council. Mind you, not everything has panned out as Norm envisioned it--that LeRoy Neiman museum just can't seem to come together (we can't understand why). But earlier this year, Coleman topped that idea by touting a scheme that's been kicking around the margins of civic discourse for a few years: SKY GONDOLAS OVER THE MISSISSIPPI! Yep. Cable-suspended sky cabs would wing over the river connecting the RiverCentre parking ramp to Harriet Island Regional Park. The 2,200-foot ride would take all of two and a half minutes. Estimated cost: $3 million to $4 million through as yet undetermined--come on, all together now--public-private partnership. Finally, an answer for everyone who has wondered, "How can I get across the river without taking the Wabasha Bridge?"
BEST JESSE VENTURA QUOTE "If they're good to me..."
It would be so easy to pick one of the many sage insights from the now-famous Playboy interview, wherein the First Rube offered excuses for sexual harassment in the navy, professed his profound desire to be reincarnated as a 38DD bra, and mocked suicide. But for our money, Ventura's downright stoopidest crack of the year was less moronically foot-in-the-mouth than any of those witticisms. As the 2000 legislative session began, it was clear that Ventura's precious transportation agenda was in danger of being derailed. In an attempt to verbally twist the arms of some lawmakers, Ventura said that if they didn't do as he said, he'd stick around longer. Ooh! "I'm taking a new attitude," Ventura huffily told the press in late February. "The more they complain, the more chances are I'll run for re-election. But if they're good to me, then I might do like in Brooklyn Park and ride off into the sunset after one term." As if the Legislature cared. It was perhaps the weakest threat yet from a politically insecure bully who only seems to get along with people willing to kiss his big behind. A refreshing change from "politics as usual," indeed.
BEST DAD Rod Grams
Senator Rod Grams only did what any parent would do. Last July, when his troubled son Morgan had been missing for a few days with a borrowed rental car, the elder Grams placed a call to the Anoka County Sheriff's Department, asking for their help in tracking him down. When deputies caught up with Junior in a vehicle lousy with bags of marijuana and drained beer cans, they arrested one of the passengers, but gave Morgan Grams a ride home. The Star Tribune uncovered the story four months later; a subsequent investigation by Dakota County officials prompted the early retirement of Anoka's chief deputy, Peter Beberg. In the end, the younger Grams was fined and put on probation for the incident. And the Grams campaign, tough love and all, rolls on.
BEST GADFLY Leslie Davis
Leslie Davis is no stranger to headlines, having leaped headlong into such high-profile causes as the anti-logging fight in northern Minnesota, the battle against the garbage burner in Minneapolis, and the acrimonious fight against the rerouting of Hiawatha Avenue. But as a 1998 write-in candidate for governor, the founder and president of the environmental organization Earth Protector seldom showed up on the media radar. In the best gadfly tradition, Davis was not disheartened and, last fall, he sank a live one into his former campaign foe, Gov. Jesse Ventura. In Davis's view, Ventura's lucrative moonlighting gigs--the I Ain't Got Time to Bleed book deal/tour and a guest-referee appearance at the World Wrestling Federation's Summer Slam--violated a conflict-of-interest law that bars state employees from unduly profiting from their public position. Davis's research unearthed an intriguing memo written by a state ethics official who shared his concerns. In short order, the salesman-turned-activist was demanding a recall and faxing his complaints to everyone he could think of--the state auditor, the attorney general, along with the Ramsey and Hennepin county attorneys. Rebuffed at each turn, he ultimately abandoned the cause. But not for long: In April, the 63-year-old north Minneapolis resident announced his intention to seek the endorsement of Ventura's very own Independence Party in a bid for Rod Grams's U.S. Senate seat.
BEST POLITICIAN Mike Hatch
Never mind whether state Attorney General Mike Hatch's corporate watchdoggery is motivated by altruism or political self-interest: We're just glad someone has come along who's willing to split hairs and pick nits on behalf of Minnesota consumers. The Duluth native and former sailor did battle with the insurance industry way back in the Eighties, when he headed Rudy Perpich's Department of Commerce. Later, as an attorney in private practice, he earned himself a reputation as the go-to man for folks with health-insurance problems. Most recently he's been making the Attorney General's Office a citizen-friendly place: Since Hatch's election in 1998 we've called about an intractable problem with a local megabank, an auto-insurance company that wouldn't pay up, and a too-good-to-be-true offer from a mortgage company. Hatch's crack attorneys didn't fix the snafus for us, but they answered their own phones and patiently doled out self-help advice. The AG Office's Web site offers answers to frequently asked questions about consumer and legal affairs and even boasts a scam-of-the-month alert.
BEST POLITICAL EMBARRASSMENT Renee LaVoi
When Renee LaVoi first expressed interest in running for the school board last spring, her colleagues in the Minneapolis GOP knew she was conservative. During the endorsement process LaVoi, a therapist with a Bible-based private practice, had espoused boilerplate party rhetoric. In the course of various campaign forums and appearances, she teetered further to the right. But nobody was prepared for the advertisement she placed in the Star Tribune the day before the election. Titled "A VOTE FOR RENEE LAVOI IS A VOTE FOR MORALITY," the peculiar manifesto offended just about everybody conceivable, but its pronouncements on pre-Christian Africa stood out. "The music was full of evil pounding drum beats," LaVoi wrote. "The men were lazy, drunk or drugged and polygamous while the women did all the work." The point? That "America has voluntarily chosen to trade places with Africa." In the ensuing flap, GOP state chair Tony Sutton lamely offered that "elections are about contrasts." Voters saw the contrast alright, handing LaVoi a landslide defeat; still, the flap revealed just how casual political parties have become in scrutinizing candidates for low-profile office. For her part, LaVoi stood by her screed; since Minneapolitans didn't appreciate her insights, she noted, she might have to move to the suburbs. Would that more local pols came to the same conclusion.
BEST SELF-PROMOTION Sara Jane Olson's Cookbook
Our jaw dropped when we first saw Serving Time: America's Most Wanted Recipes last December. On the cover, a chipper Sara Jane Olson (formerly Kathleen Soliah and currently accused of helping the Symbionese Liberation Army place bombs under police cars back in 1975) glibly holding a spatula in one hand, a pair of handcuffs in the other. The spiral-bound book is illustrated with photos accented by hand-drawn touches: Olson, playful, a punch bowl on her head; Olson, wronged, her face surrounded by a picture frame (get it?); Olson, defiant, fending off the ubiquitous media in the form of a microphone and video camera. Equally audacious is the $19.95 price tag, proceeds of which go to Olson's defense fund. The recipes, culled from Olson's index cards as well as those of family and friends, range from glazed rutabagas to Somali rice, coq au vin to French silk pie. The glorious chutzpah of it all is worth a look--even if you don't care to try Marie Moe's Wacky Cake.
BEST MEDIA EVENT The Ventura-Trump Butt-Kissing Festival
Yes, the first 16 months under Gov. Jesse Ventura have certainly been, uh, er, ahem. What we mean to say is that the Ventura Era has redefined, well... Let's be frank: In the governor-as-celebrity age of Ventura, about the only thing that seems different from politics-as- usual is the insane amount of press coverage devoted to one bald-headed state official. If we had to pick a favorite of the myriad goober-natorial media events, it would have to be the media circus staged on January 7 at the Northland Inn just off I-694 in fabulous Brooklyn Park, arguably the left buttock of Ventura's political base. Ostensibly a fundraiser for Ventura's campaign committee, this was viewed at the time--time flies, eh?--as something of a major national political event. The pair took turns praising each other in a dance that seemed designed only to anoint Trump via association with Ventura and vice versa. The Goob drew parallels between himself and the uncharismatic billionaire: "This candidate may not fit the mold," he riffed. "Neither did I." Trump kissed Ventura's backside ("The man's a winner") while unconvincingly professing, "I've gone through some tough times." Yah. In short order, Ventura was no longer a member of the national Reform Party and Trump had abandoned his White House quest. Which left the media to wonder exactly why they had bothered to show up in the first place.
BEST FARCE The Great Apple Valley Swimming Pool Scandal
It all began on July 2, when Apple Valley Mayor Mary Hamann-Roland took her kids on a day trip to the city's Aquatic Center. By all accounts, Hamann-Roland dutifully forked over for the entry of her three daughters. But according to the pool worker on duty, she declined to pay for her own $2.50 ticket--saying that she was, after all, the mayor. After an irate bystander complained to the city council, the matter was referred to police and prosecutors in neighboring Eagan. The wheels of justice lurched forward and, in August, the mayor was charged with obtaining unauthorized compensation as a public official, a misdemeanor offense. Just as the case was set to go to trial in February, a deal was struck: Prosecutors agreed to drop the charge if Hamann-Roland remains law-abiding for the next year. Thankfully, both sides also agreed to refrain from any further talk about the silly saga.
BEST CAREER MOVE The Dahm Triplets
Yes, we know it was all the way back in December 1998 that Erica, Nicole, and Jaclyn Dahm, University of Minnesota students from Jordan, took it all off in triplicate for Playboy. But this was the year the 22-year-old identical sisters parlayed their playmate status into something (nearly) resembling a show-biz career. Having moved to Los Angeles last summer, the buxom blondes have popped up in such prestigious programs as Battle Dome, a syndicated gladiator/glamazon fight show; The Late Late Show With Craig Kilborn; Norm; and Boy Meets World. They've also signed on to play robotic lifeguards in Son of a Beach, Howard Stern's new show on cable channel FX. And if the acting thing doesn't work out, their fame has already been cemented for eternity: They ranked No. 66 in the magazine's 100 "Centerfolds of the Century."
BEST PLACE FOR A FIRST DATE Science Museum of Minnesota
If there is such a thing as a failsafe venue for a first encounter, this has to be it. The brand-new building gives you a lovely excuse for initiating the date (You: "I've been dying to see the new Science Museum." Date: "Me too. Let's go this weekend, there's a new critter show opening.") The children's exhibits facilitate self-disclosure. (You: "I cried when I found out that the dinosaurs were never coming back." Date: "How sensitive!") The Omnitheater lets you make your move. (Date: "I loved the movie, but staring up at that screen gave me a stiff neck." You: "Here, let me massage it for you.") The state of Minnesota, 3M, and other corporate partners have provided you with a fascinating indoor playground. The rest is up to you.
BEST PLACE TO PEOPLE-WATCH The Transit Depot at the Mall of America
For the professional and the serious dilettante, there's no place like the Mall of America to refine the art and science of people-watching. The sheer diversity and quantity of subjects can't be beat; add the variety of potential approaches and locations (Preteen social initiation at Camp Snoopy? Weekend-warrior training in East Market? The mating dance around Michelob Gulch?), and you have the makings of a whole American Studies Department's worth of dissertations. Only one question remains: Where to begin? How to observe the rituals and customs of Mall Nation without attracting the fickle subjects' suspicion? The Transit Depot, of course--if you can find it, tucked away in the mall's bowels near the Underwater World entrance. Grab an ice cream from the vending machine (!), and park yourself on one of the ample black benches. Every few minutes the buses disgorge a new batch of subjects. Learn to tell novices from veterans by shrillness of squeal and frequency of giggle. Graduate level: Spot Iowans.
Readers' Choice: Mall of America
BEST PLACE TO TAKE THE TOTS Minnesota Children's Museum
Get those screaming tykes out of your claustrophobic house even in the dead of winter--and without ever having to set foot inside the Mall of America! If the smaller members of your household can tear themselves away from the arts and crafts and storytelling stations set up throughout the museum, they're likely to find a gallery that brings out some precocious skill or another. In the Earth World Gallery, kids can don an ant suit and scramble through what must be the world's largest man-made anthill. In the World Works Gallery, they can drive a giant crane. Even the tiniest Twin Citians can while away hours in the Habitot Gallery, the section of the museum reserved for babies and toddlers, staring up at shiny faux rain and rolling across a water-filled "pond" pillow. No two visits will be the same; the museum always offers a traveling exhibit ("World Circus" runs through May 21). A family membership (price varies with level of benefits) is a good idea if you have more than one child or plan to make more than one trip a year. Grandparents and child-care providers are eligible for membership, too. The museum is closed Mondays in the winter, and open 9:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. every day except Thursday, when the doors close at 8:00 p.m.
BEST PLACE TO DUMP SOMEONE Apache Plaza Shopping Center
The sagacious Billy Corgan once said the fall from our expectations and idealism is much harsher than the fall from reality. Using this as our koan, it is only appropriate that Apache Mall, once one of only two indoor malls in the world but now nothing more than a sad relic, serve as the sayonara point. As you stroll through the nearly abandoned corridors of the lone store of note, Herberger's, the poignant symbolism will not be lost on your soon-to-be-former significant other. And while breaking up is always hard to do, take comfort, gentle dumper, in knowing that every spirit, regardless of how deep a sorrow it may bear, is immediately raised upon leaving the Mall de Apache.
BEST PLACE TO GET DUMPED Sebastian Joe's Ice Cream Café
The stark lighting at Sebastian Joe's will illuminate your response--recalcitrant, guilt-inducing, whatever the situation inspires. Once the exchange is over, the atmosphere will remind you what's really important. Little girls in patent leather shoes, launched into glee by sprinkles. Sebastian Joe's homemade fudge sauce melting on your tongue. Each spoonful provides perspective: life offers many pleasures that don't snore beside you. After devouring a banana split, wave goodbye. Walk with dignity to the coffee counter and order an espresso to go--you'll want to be alert to bask in your new freedom.
BEST SURPRISE APPEARANCE OF UNLIKELY FAUNA Mountain lion, roaming outside the Mall of America
In 1998, an old female lake sturgeon washed up on the shores of Lake Harriet. No one knew that sturgeon, a prehistoric and pollution-sensitive species, still lived in Lake Harriet, yet here it was--six feet and 105 pounds of evidence that nature retains the power to surprise. The sturgeon's appearance seemed unlikely to be topped anytime soon. But then last September, an unusually large cat was spotted roaming the perimeter of the Mall of America. Until the mid-Nineties, conventional wisdom held that big felines hadn't set paw in the state since the turn of the century. But the sighting in Bloomington, along with an earlier one near the Fingerhut warehouse in Plymouth, strongly suggested that mountain lions are back. Both a Department of Natural Resources game warden and a local animal control officer clearly identified the cat, and officials theorized that it had accidentally wandered up to the mall while hunting in the Minnesota River Valley. Of course, we prefer to think the cougar had selected the mall in a symbolic statement--a statement of defiance to sprawl and human arrogance, perhaps with an eye toward scaring the shit out of any shopper who fails to recognize the beauty in the animal's return.
BEST VIEW Witches' Tower
First things first: Forget climbing the IDS--we're thinking rustic. So bring along the picnic basket, be sure to invite your significant other, and head up to Tower Hill, nestled above southeast Minneapolis's professorial Prospect Park neighborhood. A spectacular vista awaits those who climb the steps to the top of the 371-foot-tall Witches' Tower, but it's open only one day of the year (for the neighborhood ice-cream social in late May), which makes it ineligible for a prize it would otherwise be guaranteed. But despair not: The view at the tower's base is still lovely. Despite any inferiority complexes Minneapolitans might feel vis-à-vis New York or Chicago, pound for pound this town may well have the swellest skyline this side of San Francisco Bay. The view of I-94 at night has been scientifically proven to induce romance, and the hill itself is nearly serene: You'd forget that you're in the city if you weren't staring at it.
BEST WINDOW DISPLAY Burch Pharmacy
Walk into this Burch Pharmacy and find yourself transported back to the 1950s or thereabouts. They have lots of food, much of which will bring back memories--like those little wienies packed in that weird, salty yellow broth; all that's missing is a soda fountain. Several of the employees have been working here for years and they're not shy about giving advice, whether you're choosing a snack or inspecting boxes of hair color. "Oh hon, your hair looks pretty just the way it is. Don't touch it." Every two or three months, a couple of these devoted ladies climb up into each of the four front windows to create a new display--a process that can take days to complete. Right now, a mix of loosely connected themes awaits the would-be shopper: Window number one, which faces Sebastian Joe's, features a wide assortment of Looney Tunes characters hanging in crucifixionlike poses on a background of faded purple construction paper while character-emblazoned coffee cups, canteens, and key chains crowd the shelf below. Window number two is jammed full of stuffed animals, puzzles, and T-shirts, with an assortment of bald-eagle collectible plates and pewter sculptures thrown in. Window three has a junior-high theme complete with locker note pads, magnets, and picture frames that say "disco queen" and "girlfriend." But the pièce de résistance is the last window, which faces Hennepin Avenue. A big log draped with fake greenery serves as a makeshift rainforest, while stuffed monkeys hang from the log and stuffed tigers dot the jungle floor, flanked by scruffy-looking raccoons. Raccoons?
BEST MURAL Celebration of Life
Highway overpasses are among the least glamorous spaces in urban environments. So what a pleasure it is to drive along Olson Memorial Highway heading west over the eight lanes of I-94 and discover stately African masks lined up along the sound wall, gazing toward the Minneapolis skyline with the quiet ceremony of ancient elders. Created by John Biggers, an internationally recognized artist whose works include the stunning "Jubilee: Ghana Harvest Festival" (the fruit of his first UNESCO-sponsored trip to Africa over 40 years ago), the work also bears the contributions of two local art heroes, Ta-coumba Aiken and Seitu Jones. Created in 1997, the mural makes a stunning impression through its very simplicity: The long faces--well over ten feet tall--register with brilliant colors and authentic detail, reflecting the diversity of the locale while reminding passersby of worlds beyond the 10,000 lakes.
BEST PUBLIC CLOCK Soo Line Clock
Back in the good old days, before the banks began plastering their bland digital clocks in every strip-mall parking lot from Burnsville to Coon Rapids, the public clock was a stylish thing. It was designed to be appreciated by pedestrians rather than speeding motorists; thus form was given its proper place beside function. None of the old clocks remaining in the Twin Cities is more alluring than the muscular black steel timepiece that juts out from the northwest corner of the Soo Line Building in downtown Minneapolis. Installed sometime in the mid-Twenties (nobody seems to be quite sure when), it sits just ten feet above street level, allowing for comfortable study of its virtues. In shape the clock resembles an oversized Jules Verne-style diving helmet with four spare but classic faces, one on each side. According to Amy Lucas of the Minneapolis Heritage Preservation Commission, executives with the Canadian Pacific Railroad expressed an interest in taking the clock to their Alberta headquarters after they sold the building a few years ago. Following a quick round of discussions--and city officials' gentle reminder that the structure is protected by historic designation--the Canadian Pacific honchos agreed to leave the clock right where it belongs.
BEST FREE TOUR Summit Brewing Co.
Two words: Free beer! Every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday at 1:00 p.m., all drinkers of legal age can sample Summit's collection of barley sodas at the company's own bar. There is a catch, of course: You must endure a chat-heavy tour of the swelling Summit empire. Tour guides narrate the history of beer-making from the birth of agrarian civilization to today's overabundance of microbreweries. Fidgeting is kept to a minimum by the prospect of three beer tokens at the end. And even the most brain-dead barflies will learn a thing or two about their favorite intoxicating liquid as they peer into Summit's giant, gleaming brewing bins and towering steel fermentation tanks. You don't have to sign up for the Tuesday and Thursday tours, but the Saturday tour requires a reservation. Also, since the Summit elves only work weekdays, Saturday tour-goers will not get to see the Laverne and Shirley bottling line in operation. Still, where else can you get free beer three times a week?
BEST FARMERS' MARKET St. Paul Farmers' Market
Oh, we had ideas. For once, this year, we were going to tab a winner other than St. Paul. Maybe somewhere out in the suburbs, closer to the source; maybe in a neighborhood parking lot, where we'd see kids selling produce from community gardens. And we did find other markets--complete with the Hmong and the hippies, the goat-cheese makers and sweet-corn peelers and the rose-hip-jam-canners too. Complete, even, with our beloved 50-mile rule, which limits sales to things made or grown within an hour's drive from St. Paul, thus forcing us as nothing else does to remember where we live: no strawberries in August, no squash in May, and definitely no peaches, ever. We were all prepared to give the Best of the Twin Cities statuette to the farmers' market in Cottage Grove, or Maplewood, or at St. Luke's Church in Selby-Dale--when we discovered that they're all part of the same racket: the St. Paul Growers' Association. Schedules for the 12 locations are conveniently spread out throughout the week, meaning that theoretically, you could shop the St. Paul Farmers' Market every single day--somewhere.
BEST FREE MAGIC SHOW Eagle Magic & Joke Store
Larry Kahlow says it's as common as a rabbit in a hat. The close-up conjurer started hanging around Eagle Magic shop in 1958, got a job hawking behind the glass counter in 1971, and became the sole owner in 1976. So he ought to know: Son tells father he's interested in magic, and Dad agrees to take the 14-year-old downtown to buy some tricks. Kahlow sees them saunter through the door and, abracadabra, he totes out the tried-and-true: the cups and balls, the wilting flower, the Svengali deck. Each illusion comes with its own patter--part sales pitch, part entertainment. A nickel becomes three dimes in the blink of an eye. A blank piece of paper morphs into a $100 bill. A penny penetrates a matchbox. "How can it be?" Kahlow wonders, his voice an infectious deadpan. "I don't know. It must be magic." When well-known hobbyists roll through town--Muhammad Ali, Paula Abdul, Harry Connick Jr.--they always make time to see what Kahlow has up his sleeve. Sure, there's cumbersome equipment on hand for the pros: linking rings, dove trays, dice boxes. But the best stuff, the stuff Kahlow loves, involves scarves, dice, and cigarettes. The basics. "I'm from the small-is-beautiful school," the maestro exclaims, pulling a coin out of thin air. The father laughs like a child, his son gasps in wonder.
BEST LIBRARY Minneapolis Central Library
For researchers (especially procrastinating ones), we must recommend the Wilson Library on the West Bank of the University, as it's open until midnight on Sundays. Problem is, if you're not a student or faculty member you'll have to shell out $60 a year for a borrowing card. So Minneapolis Central it is, especially given some recent improvements: Last year the catalog underwent a major overhaul, making materials even easier to find and connecting the system with databases for more detailed searches. Hours have also been extended slightly--the building is now open until 6:00 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays (closing time remains 9:00 p.m. Monday through Thursday). Fancy new self-checkout machines offer antisocial bookworms access to materials without requiring any human contact, and for the rest of us it's kind of neat to watch our book requests placed in a canister and sucked down a tube to the mysterious underground home of some 2.5 million items. Still, a bigger building--with lots more shelf space for browsing--is way overdue: Where's that state budget surplus when you need it?
Readers' Choice: Minneapolis Central
BEST WEEKEND GETAWAY Stillwater
There is something absurd and wonderful about a hot tub fronted with fake rocks in the corner of a Victorian bedroom got up to look like colonial Burma, particularly if it's the middle of July and you have to turn up the air conditioning before taking a bath. And yet, we can say with authority that if this were the only reason to hop in your car, take Highway 36 to Stillwater, and stay the night at the Elephant Walk B&B, such a midnight bath would be reason enough (we highly recommend bringing a partner). But to the hot tubs we can add the Elephant Walk's four-course breakfast the next morning (complete with flourless chocolate torte--the decadence!); the French Mediterranean dinner or weekend brunch at La Belle Vie; the historic, if doomed, Stillwater Lift Bridge spanning the St. Croix; the overpriced antiques; and William O'Brien State Park just north of town. Those who wish to celebrate the triumph of man over climate would do well to wander over to the St. Croix Vineyards or Northern Vineyards for a wine tasting, while those who wish to celebrate the triumph of nature over human folly may wander down to the St. Croix and look for the growing population of once near-extinct peregrine falcons. And those who wish to celebrate the triumph--if only for a weekend--of idleness over industry are advised to wander anywhere they please and for as long as they please, because the best thing about Stillwater is that it's close enough to stay through Sunday afternoon and still get back in time for dinner and a reasonable bedtime.
BEST FESTIVAL Juneteenth
While more fuss is usually made over the Declaration of Independence, as liberation documents go the Emancipation Proclamation should not be sold short. That speech is the source of Juneteenth, a celebration of the day--June 19, 1865--when Union general Gordon Granger read the document in Galveston, Texas, belatedly freeing a quarter-million slaves. As word spread to individual plantations, celebrations welled up around the Lone Star State. A full 135 years later, the tradition continues in many major cities, and Minneapolis's version in Theodore Wirth Park (which this year falls on June 17) is a true freedom fest. In addition to a full day of family activities and food, Juneteenth has spawned a lecture series, a passel of exhibitions, and a Walker Art Center film festival that last year brought us the extraordinary, nine-hour family documentary An American Love Story). All reason enough to recognize an august day in American history.
Readers' Choice: Cedarfest
BEST PARADE St. Paul Winter Carnival
So this guy--thirtysomething, hint of a paunch, touch of a mustache--bounds up to us, stops dead in his tracks, and beams: "May I mark you?" And before we can so much as blurt out a "Huh?" the greasepaint is on our cheek, and the guy is gone, and we turn slack-jawed to our native-born companion. "They didn't used to ask," he says in the soothing tone he employs when we're about to lose our grip on reality. "And they used to kiss." We would stop and ponder this remarkable sign of the Zeitgeist, but we're too busy staring after the Vulcan as he plants grease marks on the faces of females all the way down St. Peter Street, and then we're distracted by the float with the giant blowtorch, and the singing Bavarians stomping to keep their lederhosened loins warm, and the Hopkins Raspberry Festival royalty, and the Shriners marching band, and the vintage fire engine, and then we find some mini-doughnuts and eat the whole bag while trying to figure out how (or why) a guy with a chainsaw would turn a block of ice into a peacock, and then we head for O'Gara's to warm up, and by the third Irish coffee we notice greasepaint dripping onto our parka, and it's about then that we begin to wish the Vulcans had stuck with smooching.
BEST COMMUNITY NEWSPAPER Minnesota Women's Press
Since its inception 15 years ago, every issue of the Minnesota Women's Press has featured a front-page profile of one noteworthy woman, from maverick St. Paul schools superintendent Patricia Harvey to Terry Ventura, plus hundreds of poets, rabbis, soccer moms, and entrepreneurs. More than anything else in this biweekly perennial, these pieces reflect the philosophy of "founding mothers" Mollie Hoben and Glenda Martin: that every woman has a story to tell. Under editor Cynthia Scott the paper remains informed by the "hear me roar" school of Seventies feminism from which it sprung, but to its credit the paper has steadfastly refused to pigeonhole either its readers or its ethos. Thus any given issue will find MWP writers examining business, education, housing, local politics, arts, and the media--never objectively, but with devotion to the notion that "women's issues" is an inclusive beat. Given that the MWP's "community" amounts to fully half the population, it's doubly impressive that Scott and Co. have managed to serve its various segments so diligently, for so long.
BEST LOCALLY GENERATED WEB SITE North Star
Before you mutter, "What the fug--a government site?" take a peek. Too many Web hot spots offer nothing more than a quick chuckle, which grows old after a visit or two. But bookmarking this baby can actually help make you a more informed Web citizen. During the legislative sessions, you can track proposed laws as they live and die at the Capitol. You can e-mail a "Right on!" or a rant to Governor Ventura as well as any state legislator or other official. You can download a consumer complaint form from the Attorney General's Office if someone has done you wrong. You can plug into a job bank. Through the Department of Revenue, you can get an estimate of how much of a sales-tax rebate you can expect. Folks looking to travel may plug into the bottomless resources of the Department of Natural Resources (for info on state parks and forests) or the Minnesota Office of Tourism. Heck, you can find out whether your chiropractor's state registration is current, and whether she's ever been disciplined by the state. Plus, there's a ton of links to local government entities in case you'd care to, say, look up your neighbor's property-tax information. Sorry, no porn or stock tips: just a bunch of useful information.
Readers' Choice: citypages.com
BEST URL
The Web address for Progressive Anesthesia Services, Inc., a Twin Cities nurse-anesthetist group.
BEST CHARITY Philanthrofund Foundation
Break down the name to its Greek roots and you'll see why this charity has a place in our hearts. "Phil" derives from the word for love, and "anthro" is for humankind. Basically, this organization's mission is to help those who love other people for who they are. What better reason could there be to hand out money? Founded in 1987, Philanthrofund serves the gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, and allied communities statewide; since then it has poured about $100,000 into worthy projects and developed an endowment to sustain future grants. The Women's Prison Book Project, Outward Spiral Theatre, Gay and Lesbian Youth Services of Rochester, and the Central Minnesota Lesbian Center are among recent recipients, the list's diversity testament to a program in tune with the people it serves. Philanthrofund gets its money from individual contributions rather than one gazillionaire's estate, which goes to show that impact--especially in a state where only about one percent of foundation giving goes to the GLBT community--is made one donation at a time.
BEST CEMETERY Pioneers & Soldiers Memorial
It may not have the rolling hills of Lakewood Cemetery or the removed tranquillity of St. Paul's Calvary Cemetery, but it sure has historic value. Stretched along a few otherwise busy blocks of Lake Street, this burial ground is simply quiet. With many of the graves more than a century old, the little patch of memories gives a nod to some of the folks who paved the way for the rest of us. Like Charles W. Christmas (1798-1904), whose epitaph--now hand-painted on an ersatz plaque because the original was stolen in the 1970s--says he was Hennepin County's first surveyor. Or the boulder engraved in memory of pioneer mothers, with a quote by Abraham Lincoln: "All that I am or hope to be I owe to my angel mother." Besides you'll see some fascinating examples of funereal architecture, including a couple of marble headstones carved in the shape of ivy-covered trees. Even in death, there can be remarkable beauty.
BEST CHURCH FOR THE NON-CHURCHGOING House of Mercy
Between the ages of 18 and 35, an interest in actual organized religion (as opposed to "spirituality") is roughly on a par with an affinity for Garfield dolls: It's tolerable, man, but it's not that cool. There are the basic theological questions--how could just one religion be right? What's all this resurrection nonsense?--and the practical quibbles--Why do I have to give them money? Prepare, then, for a mild culture shock when you walk into the Sunday evening (5:30 p.m.) service at House of Mercy, housed in a beautiful old stone church in Lowertown. The proceedings are best described as a cross between a folk-friendly college-town café and a show at the Turf Club: Everyone's drinking coffee. People stand and sit as they please. The focal point is not a cross, but a big incense holder (the "thurible") that looks like a basket suspended from giant chopsticks. The service is decidedly low-key, with music provided by guest artists and the folky, Louvin Brothers-loving house band. No one passes an offering plate, wears robes, or preaches at you (a recent sermon criticized some aspects of Christian thought, contained copious pop-culture references, and posited God as a master of irony and social subversion). And about the time you get around to thinking: "Hey, there are people my own age who actually believe this stuff," the service is quite painlessly over.
BEST CHURCH FOR THE TIMIDLY RE-CHURCHING Bethlehem Lutheran Church
So you're shopping for a church, and it's a personal process. You don't want to stand up during the service and introduce yourself. You don't want to wear a nametag; you don't want to put your name on any mailing lists; and you don't want to be publicly "saved"--not today, anyway. Rather, you want to be able to come and go without running a gauntlet. You want warmth, you want community, and you want it from a distance, thank you. Bethlehem, a growing urban church, is big enough to allow you to blend into the crowd, and warm enough to have people smiling and saying hi without intruding. This is clearly a vibrant, involved congregation, and it's evident that whatever they're doing is working well enough that they don't need to impel anyone else's participation. There are four services on Sunday, at 7:45, 8:45. 9:45, and 11:15 a.m.--that last one a godsend for anyone with a social life. Bethlehem draws about 1,000 people each week--enough so one more or less can easily slip in and out.
BEST GOSPEL SERVICE Pilgrim Baptist Church
Sometimes you just want to praise Jesus. (What's that?) Said praise Jesus. (Tell it.) Said praise him in the morning. (Uh-huh.) Said praise him in the evening. (Amen, brother.) Said praaaaaise. Said praaaaaise. Said sometimes all of God's children want to get the juice out and praise the Lord. And should you get that hankering, the praising-est (Said glory!), shouting-est (Hallelujah!) gospel congregation around can be found at Pilgrim Baptist Church, with two-hour Sunday services at both 7:45 and 10:45 a.m. In this friendly community, visitors are greeted before the service begins; then, during the "Welcome and Greeting" portion of the service, the whole congregation comes out of the pews to hug and clasp hands with friends and strangers. In this atmosphere of dignity, warmth, and worship, participation remains entirely personal--the shouting and the mute are equally welcome, and all God's children say...what? Say Amen.
BEST OPPORTUNITY TO CLEANSE YOUR SOUL Overnight Volunteering at the Simpson Homeless Shelter
In the down-and-out crowd, the Simpson is known as the best place to sleep, short of a pad of your own. The staff is stern yet understanding, never dispensing so much as spare change for a bus ride, but offering effective programs geared at helping homeless people onto their feet and into apartments. The space itself is well-maintained with a fair amount of attention paid to detail--the snorers sleep apart from the rest, and there is a supply room well-stocked with (donated) toiletries and clothing, including underwear sorted by size. The operation, which is run by two full-time staffers, could never manage without consistent chunks of volunteered time: After all, it's the volunteers who stay over at the shelter each night when the staff goes home. And while we could insist that the best reason to volunteer at Simpson is to hear war stories of narrow escapes from police, train-hopping, and street-living (rest assured, you will), the real benefit is that you'll learn some little-known facts about the New Economy.
BEST OBITUARY Bob Dylan's mother
A lot of folks think we at City Pages are a hard-bitten, jaded lot of cranks. Well, yeah, so we are a hard-bitten, jaded lot of cranks, but we do have a soft spot, and the Star Tribune's January 27 obituary for 84-year-old Beatrice Rutman hit it dead-on. The piece included what was purported to be Robert Zimmerman's first-ever poem: "My dear mother, I hope that you/Will never grow old and gray/So that all the people in the world will say/Hello, young lady, Happy Mother's Day." In other words, "May you stay forever young."
BEST METH-LAB STORY The Uptown Bust
Back in January 1999, Wright County authorities busted three men for operating a meth lab in an ice-fishing house. Comedic value aside, the discovery fueled the widely held perception of meth as a trailer-trash drug, a notion reinforced by a succession of highly publicized drug busts in rural Minnesota over the past few years. The truth, of course, is that glib generalizations about the illicit habits of ethnic and social groups seldom bear up under scrutiny. In fact, meth has become increasingly popular among urban hipsters who, it turns out, don't mind taking the three-day chemical roller coaster every now and again. Still, everyone--particularly local media--acted shocked, shocked when police discovered two pounds of top-flight crystal and gobs of lab fixings stashed right in the heart of Minneapolis's trendiest neighborhood. The cherry on top? The lab was located in the Calhoun Building, owned by Artspace Projects, Inc., which leases it to artists, "people in the healing arts," and various nonprofits. Police seized $50,000 in cash, so if nothing else it's hard to imagine the alleged operator clamoring for nonprofit status anytime soon.
BEST URBAN LEGEND Y2K
Some day a few thousand years from now, anthropologists from another solar system will sift through the fading digital traces of once-urgent chain e-mails (PASS THIS ON!!! YOU'LL NEVER EAT CHICKEN AGAIN!!!) and form a pretty good picture of the strange culture that dominated Earth around the turn of the third millennium. They'll discover that we were deeply suspicious of one another (check for slashers under your car), that we had mixed feelings about our food (especially KFC), and that we were suckers for tales of tykes with brain tumors. But what will they make of Y2K? Will they understand that this legend of legends captured our imagination because it so perfectly encapsulated everything we had reason to fear? That it felt, circa 1999, as if we had lost our grip on the world, as if everything we did somehow depended on a giant, and not necessarily benevolent, machine brain? And that we kind of wanted to see the tech whizzes taken down a notch? Then again, maybe those far-off scholars will just nod sagely: Yup, they'll say. They saw it coming all right--they just had the date wrong.
BEST LOST CAUSE Stop the Reroute
We know the oddball collection of vagabond protesters, lost souls and assorted activists who waged the long and ultimately futile fight against the rerouting of Highway 55 in south Minneapolis were sometimes hard to stomach. Their rhetoric was both overblown and strategically ill-conceived; the oft-repeated claim that the project amounted to "cultural genocide" (because Mendota Indians regard some of the affected areas as sacred), constituted at best careless use of a weighty phrase and at worst discouraged well-meaning folks from joining the crusade. Too bad, because the protesters did have a point: This is one lame project. Minnehaha Park and its environs are the best south Minneapolis has to offer in the woodsy-pleasures department, and jeopardizing the relative serenity and cleanliness of the park is just the sort of folly that has degraded so much of the Twin Cities metro. Maybe we should have cut the activists some slack for their woozy diatribes. They were, after all, right about another thing: Power gets what power wants. It was no surprise when the authorities finally booted the protest camp out of the park last December to make way for the earthmovers. By the time the 'dozers are done, those wacky demonstrators won't seem so wacky after all.
BEST BLOW FOR CIVIL RIGHTS Action Against Ageism on Cliff Road in Eagan
Last fall, while thousands of high-profile citizens were courting arrest to protest the Diallo police shooting in New York City, a lone anesthesiologist in Eagan struck a blow for the rights of the elderly. When 41-year-old Thomas J. Valente narrowly avoided a collision with 69-year-old Virginia Hendrickson after being cut off in traffic, he also steered clear of a stereotype--that elderly Americans are delicate and infirm creatures, incapable of sharing our highways responsibly. Implicit in his decision to invite Ms. Hendrickson off the road for a discussion of the laws and protocol of automobile operation was a recognition of her maturity, competence, and full agency. And his recourse to physical confrontation--what some papers referred to as a "slap" or a "blow"--was the ultimate indication that he believed this senior citizen to be his equal. When Valente left Ms. Hendrickson with broken glasses at the side of the road, pulling his BMW Z3 and its six cylinders of finely tuned Bavarian engineering onto Highway 77, he rode off into a future where the elderly have no less right to be assaulted than any other Minnesotan.
BEST PROPOSED STADIUM SOLUTION The Tyrone Dome
As both the Minnesota Twins and the Guthrie Theater were searching for a new home, St. Paul Pioneer Press theater critic Dominic Papatola hit upon what he modestly termed "a solution so simple, so elegant": A combination baseball stadium and theater. "Can Guthrie patrons learn to do the wave?" wondered Papatola. "Is it even legal to sell Chardonnay at a baseball game?" We can't figure out why stakeholders have been slow to embrace this outside-the-batting-box idea. (Could it be that not enough people watch Almanac? Nah...) But perhaps the tongue-in-cheek dream--which, Papatola noted, would give new meaning to the term "Shakespeare in the Park"--isn't completely dead: The site where city leaders and the Guthrie now plan a new theater sits right about where the Twins once envisioned a ballpark. Hmmm...
BEST BOONDOGGLE Light-Rail Transit
On the drawing board forever, the plan to bring a trolley line to the Twin Cities is starting to look like the costliest public project since the pyramids. The official public cost, according to the Minnesota Department of Transportation, is $548.6 million in public money from various sources. That's more than $48.1 million per mile for the proposed 11.4 miles of track connecting the airport to downtown Minneapolis via the Hiawatha Corridor. To make matters worse, critics of the deal point out that the budget doesn't include millions upon millions in additional public costs. Several naysayers believe that once costs for utility relocation, associated development, and projected operating deficits are tallied up, the line's total public cost will be closer to $1 billion. Add conflict-of-interest questions, cranky legislators, and uncertain federal funding, and you get one big old train wreck.
BEST SIGN OF THE LONG-RUMORED RENAISSANCE OF DOWNTOWN ST. PAUL The Minnesota Wild
Now that we're done wailing and gnashing our teeth over Norm Coleman's use of tax dollars to spiff up RiverCentre, we'd just like to say how secretly pleased we are that hockey will be back in St. Paul come October. It's been a long seven years since those turncoat Stars moved to the other end of I-35, and even longer since the St. Paul Fighting Saints disappeared. And we've sat through every winter since then feeling more than a little ashamed that Dallas, Anaheim, Phoenix, and other sunbelt burgs were becoming NHL hot spots even though the only sport indigenous to those locales is tanning. While the gleaming arena façade rising over Kellogg Boulevard makes us a tetch nervous that Wild management somehow intends to upscale this most blue-collar of sports, we're heartened by the thought of hockey bars once more drawing unruly, pasty-skinned hordes to West Seventh Street.
BEST SETTLEMENT Amazon Bookstore vs. Amazon.com
It's the classic David-and-Goliath story, except that Xena the Warrior Princess is a more appropriate protagonist for this version. Amazon Bookstore, now celebrating its 30th anniversary as a haven for women's literary minds, has been around a heckuva lot longer than its similarly monikered dot-com adversary, but when the online bookseller made itself into a favorite credit-card destination, our local heroines figured it was time to protect their good name. The case didn't go to trial, so we'll never know who was right in the eyes of the law; the Loring Park Amazons did accept a settlement (in an undisclosed amount) that will allow them to expand their operations and share a new and bigger building with the Chrysalis Center for Women. More book discussion groups, classes, services, and, of course, a coffee bar should make this new venture at 44th and Chicago, projected to open mid-July, a success. So what's in a name?
BEST LOCAL GIRL MADE GOOD Briana Scurry
Immediately after stopping China's soccer team from scoring a game-winning penalty kick in last summer's World Cup Championship and setting up Brandi Chastain's photo-finish goal, the soccer star from Dayton was publicly slighted. Instead of making her the center of their postgame coverage, the wizards at ABC decided not to give the only African-American woman on the field any face time. A more self-absorbed athlete would've crowed, and justifiably so. But the soft-spoken goalie blew off the incident and immediately went to work as an ambassador for her sport and her community (fans have dubbed her "the Jackie Robinson of soccer"), embarking on a cross-country tour to promote soccer among black children. This summer Scurry plans to suit up for the 2000 Olympics in Sydney, Australia, and then go to work starting a professional league back in the States. If all else fails, the 28-year-old--who can frequently be found courtside at Minnesota Lynx games--may lace up her high tops and make a run at the WNBA.
Readers' Choice: Winona Ryder
BEST LOCAL GIRL GONE BAD Sara Jane Olson
Who knew?
BEST LOCAL BOY MADE GOOD Steve Zahn
In 1990, Marshall-born Steve Zahn quit his job in a machine shop and took a gig in a Chanhassen Dinner Theater production of Neil Simon's Biloxi Blues. Next was a two-year stint with the American Repertory Theater in Cambridge, Massachusetts, a turn on the New York stages and, finally, a Hollywood career in which he first gained favorable notice for his vivid turn as Winona Ryder's sexually confused friend Sammy in 1994's Reality Bites. In 1996 Zahn was cast as the lead guitarist in Tom Hanks's happy rock 'n' roll fantasy, That Thing You Do, and by the end of 1998, Zahn had appeared in the dark, Eric Bogosian-penned subUrbia (as a pizza-slinging slacker), You've Got Mail (as Meg Ryan's bookstore colleague) and, finally, in Steven Soderbergh's acclaimed Out of Sight (as a dimwitted crook in thrall to Jennifer Lopez). In last year's indie hit Happy, Texas, the suddenly hot Zahn turned in his best performance to date, playing an escaped con masquerading as the gay director of a kindergarten pageant. Zahn combined the unself-conscious vitality of Robert De Niro with a hint of Crispin Glover, elevating the movie and, in the process, winning himself the prestigious Special Jury Prize for Comedic Performance at the 1999 Sundance Film Festival.
Readers' Choice: Jesse Ventura
BEST LOCAL BOY GONE BAD Dino Guerin
The news dribbled out slowly, as if from a cracked sewer pipe: Ramsey County commissioner admits to gambling addiction. Ramsey County commissioner charged with check-kiting. Ramsey County commissioner denies renewed allegations of cocaine problem. Ramsey County commissioner linked to questionable loan. Ramsey County commissioner linked to another questionable loan. Ramsey County commissioner's questionable loans subject of federal inquiries. We can ponder the, er, odds, of a political recovery--keep in mind that this is a guy whom East Side voters elected to the Ramsey County Board despite the fact that he declared personal bankruptcy in 1992 and was the subject of widely publicized allegations of cocaine abuse--but one thing's for sure: It hasn't been a good year for Dino Guerin.
BEST VILLAIN Stephon Marbury
During football season the Viking faithful have two favorite teams: The Purple and whoever's playing the Green Bay Packers. Since NBA sensation Stephon Marbury packed up his ego and left for New Jersey last season, fans of the Timberwolves have reveled as the Nets struggle to play .500 ball. The hate can be rationalized, of course. Besides thumbing his nose at Minnesota's favorite Kevins (McHale and Garnett) and quashing any hope for a championship run in the next five years, Marbury had the gall to call Minneapolis boring (this coming from a guy who has chosen to play his home games in the Garden State). When the point guard made his return to Target Center on February 20 for a nationally televised game, he was greeted by 19,449 hecklers, some of whom held signs accusing the former favorite of being a crybaby. Not unlike Utah's Karl Malone or former Bull Dennis Rodman (storied villains in their own right), Marbury stepped up to the boos. In a 40-minute clinic (on his birthday, no less), the 23-year-old scored 39 points and led his team to a 91-89 win. "It doesn't get any better than this," the giddy guard told reporters after the heartbreaker. It hurts to admit it, but we have to agree.
Readers' Choice: Jesse Ventura
BEST VICTIM Jan Gangelhoff
It's a good guess former Gophers coach Clem Haskins never thought a 50-year-old, somewhat frumpish office manager would or even could take him down. But that's exactly what Jan Gangelhoff did on March 10, 1999, when she blew the whistle in the St. Paul Pioneer Press, alleging academic fraud in the men's basketball program. By admitting that she'd written more than 400 pieces of course work for players between 1993 and 1998, Gangelhoff guaranteed an NCAA probe and prompted a swift internal investigation, which led to the ouster of the unrepentant athletic director, Mark Dienhart, and McKinley Boston, vice president for student affairs and athletics. What was most impressive about her performance, though, was the way she managed to parlay her action into penance. She had "struggled for a long time" whether to disclose the allegations. She wanted to help the kids. She'd never do anything to hurt them. Blah, blah, blah. A few local sports columnists had the gumption to rightly question her motives. But the media at large let her off the hook. In return she provided them with all the award-winning footage they could handle--hanky in hand, crying on cue.
BEST PURGE The Bloodletting at Winter Park
After Dennis Green became the Minnesota Vikings head coach in 1992, the "new sheriff," as he called himself, quickly embarked on a wholesale housecleaning; within two years, all 11 assistant coaches who'd worked under his predecessor, Jerry Burns, were gone. In most businesses, a new manager would be pilloried for such ruthlessness. In pro football, such cutthroat efforts are invariably attributed to the quest for proper "chemistry." But when Green began handing out the pink slips after the 1999 season, another term came to mind: purge. After all, Green was dumping his own recruits, including first-year offensive coordinator Ray Sherman (who ran the league's third-ranked offense) and veteran defensive coordinator Foge Fazio. Scads of assistant coaches and players were handed their walking papers, too. We can only surmise that Green was looking for ways to diffuse the blame for an erratic and disappointing 1999--after all, this was supposed to be the year for the Vikes. But lo and behold, Green didn't live up to his reputation as either a top game-day coach or a personnel whiz. After yet another dismal loss in the playoffs, heads had to roll at Winter Park--and why in the world would the savvy Green stick his own neck in the guillotine?
BEST GOLDEN PARACHUTE Clem Haskins
We don't object to the cheating. The NCAA stopped being about academics when Jerry "The Shark" Tarkanian made sure America knew that the University of Nevada was in Las Vegas. And let's face it, after the media circus that followed the St. Paul Pioneer Press's investigative report on fraud in the University of Minnesota's basketball program, U president Mark Yudof had no choice but to send the coach back to his Kentucky farm in time for harvest--$1.5 million or no $1.5 million--and the coach knew it. So hats off to the former Bull for bringing big-time college basketball to the prairie. What irks us just a little, though, is that after all that hard work by Jan Gangelhoff, all Clem "The Gem" could muster was a half-dozen trips to the NIT, a single Big Ten championship, and one lousy appearance in the Final Four. At least Tark stole a title.
BEST GARAGE SALE The Artist
The word on the street last August was that The Artist Formerly Known As Prince was having a "garage sale." Would he sit outside selling lemonade? Would he haggle with us over the best price for a pair of rhinestone-studded boots? The lines became longer and the TV crews circled. As it turned out, Symbol Man was nowhere in sight and his sale was little more than an excuse to unload some old merchandise, but hey, some of us now own purple tambourines, special-edition perfume (with a fuzzy cap!), berets from the, um, multitalented NPG dancers, and gen-yew-wine Purple Rain and Lovesexy tour passes. Erotic neon signs from the Sign O' the Times stage set were worth the hundred bucks, as were all the gear boxes being scooped up by bargain-hunting local bands. Not bad, but next time the Artist might take a page from the garage-sale handbook: more stuff from the closet, less from the store.
BEST RENOVATION Minnesota State Capitol Rathskeller
A beer hall at the state capitol? Okay, you can't get a beer here, but the recently renovated subterranean cafeteria was originally designed with a rathskeller theme. The 1905 décor was painted over in 1917, amid a wave of anti-German sentiment during World War I. In 1930 some of the art was restored, albeit with temperate, Prohibition-era themes, only to be painted over again later. Today--after a $2 million, 18-month renovation that peeled off no fewer than 22 layers of paint--replicas of the original chain-and-white globe chandeliers hang from the high, vaulted ceilings. The flowery art on the walls is heavy on eagles and grapevines along with some 23 restored mottoes, many of which have a be-merry theme: One translates as "First do your duty, then drink and laugh." You can laugh all you want here, but there are no suds on the premises. As an old German drinking song might have put it, "At the capitol, there is no beer/That's why we go to the Kelly Inn."
BEST GROUND ZERO The Hollman Redevelopment Site
Nearly a decade has passed since the local NAACP joined with public-housing tenants and the Legal Aid Society of Minneapolis to sue the city, state, and federal governments for creating a segregated public-housing district along Olson Memorial Highway just west of I-94, and it has been five years since the suit was ostensibly settled. Yet to date the Hollman Decree has resulted in virtually no new housing for Minneapolis's lower-income residents--just hundreds of displaced tenants and bulldozed apartments, plus seemingly endless bouts of political wrangling. Now Minneapolis city officials sincerely, tearily assure us the posturing is over and the rebuilding can begin. Assuming the project continues on its current course, in a few years the city's near-north neighborhood will sport a big chunk of new, upwardly mobile property values. Of course, with precious few of the 900 planned units earmarked for low-income tenants, that's small consolation to the 700-plus families who have been set adrift in the roiling Twin Cities housing market. And there's the niggling fact that no one's quite sure how to cover the development's $200 million price tag. Perhaps, in the long run, those are small quibbles. Time will tell.
BEST CHRONIC VANDALISM Cotty Lowry's Billboard
If a new Cotty Lowry poster goes up the day you read this, trust that by nightfall it will be transformed. Vandals will have used thick black markers and spray paint to add a mustache or beard, big ears, horns, and maybe a pig snout or eye makeup to the face of the smiling Coldwell Banker Burnet realtor. After that the words will come: In January, a cartoon talk bubble declared, "Happy New Year, Bitch" above a lipsticked Lowry head, but our favorite was the long-running: "DO YOU ROCK AS I DO?" And no, it would be hard to rock as Lowry does. His name is on what seems like every other For Sale sign in the western half of the city, and he has a sense of humor to boot. "The best is the 3-D graffiti," he told Mpls.St.Paul magazine last year. "They've turned me into Goldilocks with real gold braids. Then there was what I called the 'full-body Cotty.' They added some anatomy... It must've been three feet long." Lowry--who picks up the $7,000 annual tab for replacing the poster every six to ten weeks--says he often gets calls from people, even competitors, alerting him to the latest transformation, and he remains unfazed. Those eye patches, one-nostriled noses and pointy fangs have reeled in many a customer.
BEST FEUD Steve Minn vs. The Minnesota Senate
Minnesota politics is often just too dang polite. Lucky for us, controversy follows Steve Minn... or is that: Steve Minn follows controversy? After five years of playing the loyal (and vocal) opposition on the Minneapolis City Council, the 13th Ward resident was tapped by Gov. Jesse Ventura to head the state Department of Public Service, which regulates utilities. When Department of Commerce Commissioner Dave Jennings resigned last July, Ventura also put Minn in charge of that agency, which oversees financial institutions. Soon Minn was presiding over a merger of the two departments, mandated by the Guv as a way to create efficiencies in government, but executed--oops--without consulting the Legislature. When lawmakers returned to the capitol in February, they had their knives sharpened for what turned out to be the political showdown of the year. Minn didn't help his case any when he asked Jim Howard--CEO of Northern States Power, one of the companies in Public Service's regulatory purview--to offer Senate Majority Leader Roger Moe a testimonial as to what a bang-up job the commissioner was doing. When the Senate voted by a 2-to-1 margin not to confirm Minn on February 24, it was not only the first time the body had rejected a major gubernatorial appointment in more than 25 years, but also the Legislature's biggest "fuck you" to Ventura yet.
BEST STATE FAIR RIDE The Ferris Wheel
While there are those who come to the Great Minnesota Get-Together for a fix of excitement--witness the line of folks waiting to get slung or dropped or twisted about by one of the fair's daunting diversions--we like our rides tinged with nostalgia. Our vote goes therefore to the Ferris wheel, a standard of Fairs past and undeniably one of the best make-out spots in town. Let the adrenaline addicts have their fun. We'll take a view of the Midway bathed in red and green light and the memory of laughter retreating happily through the summer evening.
BEST STATE FAIR FOOD The Milk Shake
Let us tell you something about those most splendid young people who operate the Gopher Dairy Club concession a few cows' lengths from the public milking parlor. Every one of them is a virgin. This is a fact; you can tell just from looking at them. Only the purest hands are allowed to attach metal suction cups to a glistening row of udders, and when these kids enroll on the ag campus in St. Paul, they take a vow of chastity. It's also a fact that not one of them has ever had a pimple: When you're breast-fed until age 12, like all these kids were, your skin stays as creamy as a cup of crème fraîche. And it makes for a special communion with the family bovidae, the kind of lasting bond that inspires the beasts to give their very best. Fact is, some of these kids speak cow. Is it any wonder that the milk shakes--strawberry, chocolate, vanilla--have been given special status as a national heirloom by the World Trade Organization? Or that each year's vintage goes into storage in a special refrigerated vault at the Smithsonian Institution? Every word of this is true.
Readers' Choice: Cheese Curds
BEST LANDMARK The Mississippi River
It takes out-of-town--make that out-of-country, out-of-continent--visitors to remind us: "Where is it?" they inquire, barely out of the airport. And they're not talking about the St. Paul Cathedral, the Minnesota Zoo, or Nye's. They want to see the feature that places Minnesota on the world map, the one schoolchildren in India and street vendors in Senegal can identify. You'd think we'd pay it tribute, celebrate it, put it on T-shirts, but maybe neglect is bliss: It's why there are still secret spots by the shore, places where you can sit and forget yourself while you watch a guy in a dinghy cast for carp. It's here that we take people when they've come from some foreign land; behold them as they scramble down the banks and gently, reverently touch the water's surface, chattering in a tongue of which we understand only one word: Mississippi. Mississippi.
Readers' Choice: Spoonbridge and Cherry
BEST MONTH TO LEAVE THE TWIN CITIES August
Sure the Lovin' Spoonful's John Sebastian once made 80 percent humidity and air pollution sound, well, cool. But even he'd have a hard time with a Twin Cities summer. Where's the poetry in getting strafed by wasps while choking down a charred bratwurst at a backyard barbecue? Shoving your way down Nicollet Mall on Farmers' Market Thursdays? Feeling your eyeballs sweat while riding a city bus whose air conditioning has conked out on the hottest day of the year? Better start cozying up to those shirttail relatives with the cabin up north now. That way, when August rolls around you can craft your own odes--to loons, milfoil, and sleeping without the air conditioner set on "stun."
BEST MONTH TO BE IN THE TWIN CITIES July
At its hottest, stickiest, and buggiest, July can make one yearn for winter. But given the length of winter in these parts, that is a perverse virtue. Besides, the month has other allures. On weekends, most everyone with means has fled town, leaving those remaining behind with plenty of elbow room. It is as though some great equalizer has descended from the heavens to bloodlessly thin the herd and restore balance to sidewalks and streets. And of all the summer months, July is the most pure in its summerness--the best time for the midnight dip in a city lake, a bogus sick call to work, a six-pack on the stoop, and other noble pursuits. Yeah, nothing much seems to get done in July--and in the frenzied industriousness of these boom times, that too is a mighty sweet quality.
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