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BEST HELLRAISER OR ACTIVIST GROUP JOBS NOW Coalition Unless your last name is Dayton, Pillsbury, or Cowles, you owe the folks at the helm of this St. Paul-based nonprofit a debt of gratitude. We don't know anyone else who is as dedicated to looking at Minnesota's economy from the standpoint of the working stiff, or anyone else who is doing a better job of explaining exactly how it is that a living wage has gotten to be so out of reach for more and more families. For more than 20 years, the JOBS NOW Coalition has been advancing the cause of the family-supporting wage on three fronts: They use their economic smarts to document the difference between the official minimum wage and families' real cost of living, they advocate for public policies fostering those wages, and--our favorite--they engage in "relentless public education, revealing the common interests that employers and employees have in jobs that pay well." Thanks to this last effort, we know that a bare-bones budget for a family of four in the Twin Cities is nearly $52,000, almost triple the federal poverty level. Their work has been praised by such luminaries as Barbara Ehrenreich, author of Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting by in America, and--perhaps more importantly--replicated by the progressive economists at the Economic Policy Institute in Washington, D.C. If you're doing all right these days and your job has survived the recession, maybe you ought to perform a mitzvah and write them a check.
BEST SCANDAL Telegate Back in the bad old days, political graft was unambiguous. As the Vice President, Spiro Agnew accepted cash bribes in paper sacks in the basement of the White House. There was a certain straightforward integrity to such old-school corruption. Nowadays, most graft is the lawyered variety. For the most part, the rotten deals between politicians and business people aren't illegal anymore. But that doesn't make them stink any less. Such is the case with Telegate, the mini-furor that erupted this summer after the St. Paul Pioneer Press detailed the hidden relationship between Gov. Tim Pawlenty, various other members of a tight-knit GOP cabal, and assorted bottom-feeding telecom outfits. One of the companies, New Access, was notorious for "slamming" consumers--in other words, getting them to switch long distance services with deceptive telemarketing pitches--and was repeatedly sued in several states for the practice. Pawlenty, who as a candidate for governor earned lucrative consulting fees from telecom buddy Elam Baer, denied any knowledge of New Access skullduggery, quietly amended his financial disclosure forms, and skated away with his squeaky clean reputation a little sullied.
BEST MAYOR Lee Hunt If we ever have a reason to think about small-town mayors, it's usually either as lovable town-dad sorts or vaguely corrupt, Mayor Quimby-style politicos--not particularly polarizing types. But Lee Hunt of Lake Elmo, a town of 7,500 just southeast of St. Paul mostly known for its enormous regional park, has been nothing if not controversial thanks to a protracted fight with the Metropolitan Council over proposed development requirements. In 2002, Hunt and his City Council decided that, instead of developing into a suburb, exurb, or edge city, they wanted to retain their rural character, encouraging limited expansion along their two highway corridors but refusing to cede control of infrastructure development to the Met Council. The battle has since reached the Minnesota Supreme Court, with the recently reelected Hunt spearheading the town's efforts to remain off the grid and drawing the ire of council chairs (and, to be fair, some of his constituents). The appeals, legislative gambits, and sniping continue with no clear victor, but one thing is clear: Whether you think Lake Elmo is making a valiant, necessary stand against sprawl or exhibiting gated-community snobbery at its worst, it's impossible not to admire Hunt's devotion to his cause.
Readers' Choice: R.T. Rybak BEST POLITICIAN Tim Pawlenty It's been said that years from now, future Minnesotans will look back with amazement that we once had the temerity to elect a former pro wrestler as governor. But it's quite likely that they'll view the Pawlenty years with equal wonder. It won't just be that after a century of progressive, populist governors, we voted in a conservative who's the figurehead for a radical right movement. It won't just be that he has demanded the most draconian budget cuts in recent memory. It won't just be that many of Minnesota's long-fabled social programs have been gutted under his watch. It will be that in spite of all of this, Pawlenty remains a popular figure with the public and the press. More than a year into his term, his approval ratings still hover around 70 percent. And, more miraculously, he has remained relatively unscathed in the local editorial pages. All of this can be chalked up to Pawlenty's nice-guy persona, a myth from day one that seems to grow the more he commits what normally would be seen as acts of political evil. In short, the gov's got everyone hoodwinked, and it's not far-fetched that he'll enjoy multiple terms at the Capitol, or maybe even a stint or two as a U.S. senator. Let it be said that Pawlenty strikes some of us as an asshole. That he continues to get away with it makes him, in the best and worst sense, a masterful politician.
Readers' Choice: Paul Wellstone BEST CORPORATE CITIZEN General Mills, Inc. According to the Minnesota Council on Foundations, charitable giving for education and the percentage of all dollars donated to programs in the Twin Cities area are both on the decline. General Mills is vigorously bucking both trends. The philanthropic part of the company, General Mills Community Action, ranked second only to the Target Foundation in grant dollars to statewide education in 2001, the last year figures are available. And unlike Target, General Mills hasn't cut health insurance for its employees or asked for huge public subsidies from Minneapolis taxpayers recently. This year, in addition to its already staunch commitment to promoting local diversity, the General Mills Foundation is marking its 50th anniversary by giving out 50 "Celebrating Communities of Color" grants of $10,000 apiece to nonprofit organizations working with minority communities in the Twin Cities. The company put $3 million into new housing in Minneapolis's Hawthorne neighborhood and established monthly meetings, known as the Hawthorne Huddle, to derive strategies that have helped reduce crime an estimated 30 percent in the neighborhood. Another 50 grants of up to $10,000 will go to community-based groups that help young people adopt a balanced diet and physically active lifestyle to combat obesity, which now rivals tobacco use as a drain on our health care system. Since 1997, the company has underwritten 1,200 college scholarships for at-risk high school students. It matches all charitable contributions by its employees and retirees each year. Overall, the General Mills Foundation contributed over $20 million throughout the country in fiscal 2003. But it isn't all just dollars and cents. Approximately 70 percent of the company's workforce volunteered in their communities over the past year. Medical and dental benefits are paid for employees and their eligible dependents--including same-sex partners--from the first day of employment. And General Mills ranks among the top three U.S. companies in providing food to charitable outlets and people in need.
BEST BOONDOGGLE The inevitable Twins, Vikings, and Gophers stadiums You think this is no fait accompli? You think our political leaders will heed all those opinion polls and assorted municipal referenda that have demonstrated, time and again, the public's opposition to further subsidizing big-time sports? Then you probably also think Minnesota is a good government state. The sad reality is that the political culture in Minnesota is essentially indistinguishable from that of Indiana--a flatland mix of reactionary social policies, regressive taxes, and religious hokum. This is precisely the sort of environment that favors big-time sports. So the only questions about the stadium issue are in the particulars of when, where, and how. Not why. Look no further than the governor's office to see how much the political sands have shifted. Remember how State Representative Tim Pawlenty used to pump up his populist credentials with anti-stadium pontification? Now, as governor, Pawlenty is pushing for huge tax increment financing (TIF) packages for new Viking and Twins stadiums. It's a subsidy by another name. Meanwhile, Minneapolis Mayor R.T. Rybak, elected largely on an anti-subsidy platform, is suddenly trying to drum up support for a Twins stadium he wants to build next to the county incinerator. For his part, St. Paul Mayor Randy Kelly seems content to play the useful sap in the ballpark game--ensuring that St. Paul remains in the running long enough to drive up the public tab. Everyone, it seems, is suddenly beyond embarrassment on the issue. For sheer gall, however, nothing rivals the University of Minnesota's push for a Gophers stadium. Yes, the razing of Memorial Stadium was a historic blunder. Yes, it would be nice if the Gophers had an open-air stadium. But consider the context: The U just completed the biggest building boom in its history and students have been stuck with double-digit tuition hikes in consecutive years.
Readers' Choice: Bus Strike BEST CAREER MOVE Randy Meier gets fired by KSTP When word came down from on high last February that KSTP-TV wouldn't renew main news anchor Randy Meier's contract, our heads were still reeling from KSTP's botched attempt to re-sign his popular co-anchor, Julie Nelson, who's now making twice as much money over at KARE. We couldn't fathom what the problem might have been. We'd always thought Meier was talented enough to pack up any time he wanted. He's a first-class broadcaster with a string of awards shoring up his journalistic bona fides, including a fistful of Emmys. Word on the street is he's not much of a careerist, though--the fact that he put in 13 years with Hubbard Broadcasting is proof of that--and stayed in town because his wife and five daughters loved it here. It was bittersweet, then, when he turned up in New York last August in the dayside anchor seat at MSNBC, and shortly thereafter was spotted doing fill-in anchoring for the weekend edition of NBC's Today. Sometimes nice guys do indeed finish first.
BEST GADFLY Phil Krinkie Phil Krinkie doesn't want to spend money on anything. Not to build a billion-dollar playpen for a huckster used-car salesman from San Antonio, and not to, um, educate our kids. We may not always agree with the Shoreview Republican's views, but we admire his pit bull approach to spotlighting dubious government spending. When Gov. Tim Pawlenty unveiled his asinine proposal to build two new pro-sports stadiums at a cost of $1 billion (justifying his support by explaining that it's a cold state and "we've got to have some stuff for people to do"), the supposedly fiscally conservative Republicans were conspicuously quiet. Except for Krinkie. He lashed into the governor with the same bilious zeal that he's hurled at politicians of all stripes throughout the last decade of stadium dust-ups. Our favorite Krinkie-ism of the last year was his take on whether any stadium-funding proposal should be put to the voters. "If you're going to fleece the taxpayers," he noted, "then you should at least ask them if they want to be fleeced for this purpose."
BEST BROKEN PROMISE Norm Coleman's pledge to oppose drilling in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge In his 2002 campaign for the U.S. Senate, the oleaginous, lantern-jawed opportunist went to great lengths to position himself as a common sense moderate. Politically, this made sense. Running against Paul Wellstone (and then, for a week, Walter Mondale), Coleman needed to appease not the right--those votes were locked in--but the center. And what better way to round up that support than to inflate his green credentials? And so Coleman repeatedly vowed he would oppose the Bush administration's irresponsible plan to open the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge to oil exploration. As energy analysts and environmentalists rightly observed, ANWR's oil reserves constitute only a drop in the bucket in terms of national energy consumption. Which means that even fully exploited, ANWR can do next to nothing in terms of reducing dependence on foreign sources. As one of the last pristine places, on the other hand, ANWR has immeasurable ecological value. At the start of his term, Coleman looked like he was serious about keeping his pledge. Last spring, the editorialists at the Pioneer Press praised the freshman senator for casting an anti-ANWR vote. The kudos were premature. A few short months later, Coleman announced he would be willing to reconsider the ANWR position in exchange for an $800 million federal loan package for an ill-considered "clean coal" plant on the Iron Range. As it turned out, the ANWR provisions were ultimately stripped from the outrageous, misbegotten exercise in lawmaking known as the federal energy bill. But that was no thanks to Mr. Coleman, who--all PR considerations aside--has shown a lot more yellow than green since he went to Washington.
BEST LOCAL BOY MADE GOOD Larry Fitzgerald Jr. Fitzgerald has seemed destined for NFL glory from an early age. The son of a KMOJ and Spokesman-Recorder sports reporter, the Holy Angels alumni and former Vikings ball boy had the chance to learn at the feet of pro greats like Cris Carter and Randy Moss. In his short but memorable career at the University of Pittsburgh, Fitzgerald showed that he'd absorbed their lessons, racking up 1,600 receiving yards in 2003, catching at least one touchdown in a NCAA-record 18 straight games, and finishing second overall in last year's Heisman Trophy voting. As an almost certain top-three pick in this year's NFL draft, Fitzgerald will finally get the chance to match himself against his childhood idols. And, to top it all off, Fitzgerald shows all signs of being a thoroughly decent Minnesota kid. He's a dedicated, straight-arrow type who says in interviews that his mother's tragic death last year inspired his phenomenal football achievements.
Readers' Choice: Prince BEST LOCAL BOY GONE BAD Dick Borrell You have to hand it to Dick Borrell: The mustachioed businessman from the west metro town of Waverly has more chutzpah than any 10 Minnesota politicians combined. In his 2002 race for the state House of Representatives, Borrell blustered his way to victory despite a sordid personal revelation that would have sent lesser aspirants scurrying for the cover, comfort, and obscurity of private life. The significant details, as revealed in documents filed in Wright County District Court: On a full-moon night in 1987, Borrell crept into the darkened bedroom of a relative's fiancée. Pretending to be her betrothed, Borrell allegedly then induced the oblivious woman to give him oral pleasure. After the woman discovered she'd been had--literally had--she filed a civil lawsuit; in 1993, Borrell settled for $20,000. In his deposition, Borrell attributed the boorish behavior to everything from the Ides of March (no kidding) to alcohol. By his own count, the consumption of spirits was heroic: a 12-pack of beer, five screwdrivers, and three kamakazes. Okay, you say, that was a long time ago. Let bygones be bygones. But there is little evidence that Borrell's bad-boy streak ever abated. Earlier this year, the 52-year-old Waverly native pleaded guilty to a gross misdemeanor charge of making false campaign statements--a fairly stunning thing when you consider how much lying occurs in politics, and how few criminal charges are leveled. In February, Borrell landed in court again, where he pleaded guilty to packing a loaded handgun in his carry-on luggage at the Minneapolis-St. Paul Airport. Sadly, for Borrell's fans (and anyone else who enjoys the spectacle of imploding politicians), Borrell finally did display a modicum of shame. On the occasion of his second guilty plea in as many months, Borrell announced he would not seek another term come fall.
BEST LOCAL GIRL MADE GOOD Katherine Lanpher Katherine Lanpher could also be eligible for the "Best Comeback" award, for it was little less than a year ago when the former MPR Midmorning host was charged with drunk driving and hit and run. Yet instead of letting the incident ruin her career, Lanpher got her act together and continued to host Midmorning, all while emitting her trademark chortle. Her laughter is taking her places: She recently accepted the enviable gig of cohosting The O'Franken Factor with the loveable lefty Al Franken. Alas, the offer makes Lanpher eligible for the "Best Local Girl to Leave Town During the Past Year" award, too--the program is being created for the new liberal radio network, Air America, which required Lanpher to relocate to NYC.
Readers' Choice: Lindsey Whalen BEST LOCAL GIRL GONE BAD Patricia Anderson Much as we'd like to give this to some Hollywood starlet who betrayed her Minnesota roots and lost herself in a den of sin, misfortune, and bad career moves, it's time we all face facts: We don't have any celebrities here in Minnesota--at least not ones who haven't already bored us to tears. In fact, speaking of tears, the closest we came this year to bringing anything fresh to the wide world of fame was Catie, an 18-year-old from Willmar who had an absolute duct-filled fit in nearly every scene of America's Next Top Model. Boo hoo. Which brings us to Patricia Anderson. Never heard of her? Well, she is Minnesota's state auditor, and that's about as close to famous as we get these days. Of course, you may remember her as Pat Awada, the onetime feisty mayor of Eagan who was considered by many to be a rising star in the local Republican Party. Ever since she campaigned for statewide office in 2002, Anderson's had a series of tumbles. First, there was her insistence that her maiden name, Anderson, be placed on the general election ballot, which many viewed as a cynical move to capture votes in the land of 10,000 Swedes. Then last spring, shortly after the new auditor took office, Walter Awada, an in-law and a St. Paul bar owner, was indicted on federal gambling and money-laundering charges (he was later convicted on six of 14 offenses). About a month later, the Awadas were in the news because the auditor's husband, Michael, was charged with hitting their teenage son with a chair during an argument. By the summer, our state auditor was embroiled in a telecom scandal that involved the governor, a Republican crony, and a business she once owned. By September, the Awadas were separated, and divorced in December. In January, the auditor announced that she was going back to her birth name, no doubt hoping that 2004 is better to Patricia Anderson than 2003 was to Pat Awada.
BEST LOCALLY GENERATED WEB SITE Cursor The American electorate is not, as the current thinking goes, split into halves: the blue and the red. Rather, the blue is itself divided between those who believe Jorge can be beaten and those who have looked at the Electoral College with a sober eye and a calculator. The half who see vulnerability in POTUS, we've noticed, tend to be the most fervent readers of blogs--places where the administration's myriad sins have been well documented for three years now. If you've been paying attention to the kind of stories that Cursor chronicles every day, it's almost impossible to believe W. could be elected president of his church's septic-improvement committee--to say nothing of the rest of the country. From its beginnings as a local-media watchdog site in 1997, Cursor has stood as one of the most comprehensive clearinghouses for mainstream and alternative coverage of the war on sanity (formerly known as "the war on terror"). In 2001 and 2002, this project involved providing a comprehensive translation archive of Al-Jazeera and publicizing the Afghan casualty count of Marc Herold. Today, the site continues to give prominent play to articles about money and the media through its extensive "Media Transparency" satellite. And it also features articles about campaign finance and international affairs. But Cursor's most indispensable feature is the intelligently summarized and far-ranging links that make up the daily "Media Patrol." This is an exhaustive labor of hate, surveying hundreds of different media outlets, and it contains all the information you'd ever need to make an intelligent decision in the 2004 election. The real question is: If as many people tuned into Cursor as read the National Enquirer, would the results turn out any differently?
BEST FARMERS' MARKET Minneapolis Midtown Public Market Until recently we were much more in favor of farmers' markets in the abstract than the concrete. Sure, every year, as soon as the weather warmed up, we'd get all excited about the simple luxuries that might grace our table once the peak-sweet vegetables started to roll into town. But our enthusiasm would wane once we actually tried to do our marketing at the outdoor markets in either downtown. That's when we grappled with the parking, the crowds, and the sheer number of stands operated by soap makers, purveyors of incense, and other businesses that don't, so far as we know, actually farm anything. Where's an ADD-impaired heirloom tomato-lover to turn? The Midtown Public Market, located in Minneapolis at the intersections of Lake Street and 22nd Avenue South, across the street from the Midtown YWCA. There are miles of free parking and plenty of space between the booths for kids, dogs, carts, strollers, and shoppers who can't make up their minds. If the selection isn't yet as good as it is at downtown St. Paul's foodie paradise, it's better, in our opinion, than in downtown Minneapolis. In addition to produce, vendors offer garbage-free meats, poultry, cheese, specialty foods, cooking demonstrations, and, oddly, light-rail propaganda. This year the market begins July 10 and will operate Saturdays from 8:00 a.m. to 1:00 p.m. and Tuesdays from 3:30 p.m. to 7:30 p.m. through October 30.
BEST FOOD COURT Mercado Central O, woe is the food court, that bizarre union of cheap commerce and gluttony, hurry and rest, which really gained footing around these parts, mostly in shopping malls, in the 1980s. It's not so much that the food court was a bad idea at the time, it's just that as time marched on, the food court became so corporate, so staid, so uniquely American. And the food almost always sucked. Enter Mercado Central, the little business incubator on the southeast corner of Lake Street and Bloomington Avenue. Conceived in 1997, El Mercado has become ground zero for Minneapolis's Latino boom, and a welcome revitalization in a long-depressed area for native borns. Though it's home to jewelry and clothing shops, music and book stores, and any number of little artisan outlets and food markets, the real staying power of Mercado Central is its half-dozen food vendors. You can get the best burritos, tamales, tortillas, and pupusas in town, and for little more than it costs you to do your laundry. As if that weren't enough, you don't take this food to go and slop it all over your car while weaving through traffic. No, you get to stay and eat it right there, in the heart of a bustling indoor bazaar. It's really the best local example of what a fresh wave of immigration can do to a tired old cow town--not to mention its concept of food courts. Oh, and did we mention the food doesn't suck?
BEST PLACE TO DUMP SOMEONE Cyberspace Given the peculiar state of modern romance, it's reasonably likely that you met your soon-to-be-ex online. Isn't it fitting, then, that the relationship should end where it began? Granted, e-mail is a cold-blooded form of communication. In the short history of the internet, the carelessly or callously worded e-mail has probably launched more feuds than three centuries of hillbilly moonshine. But before dismissing the digital Dear John/Dear Jane missive, consider its advantages. Ending a relationship is an inherently messy act. Sometimes, it is dangerous. Doesn't it make sense to undertake the task in a controlled setting? And what is more controlled than the internet? In cyberspace, no one can hear you scream. More importantly, in cyberspace no one can throw a hard, heavy object in the direction of your head. Breaking up via e-mail also reduces the likelihood that in a fog of emotional upheaval you'll wind up back in your ex's arms. Sure, if you really care about the other person (or if you are a decency fetishist), you may need to do your dumping in person. Fine. Go to the lakes. Hold hands. Weep. Watch the sun set. The rest of us will stay at home, click the mouse, and get on with our lives.
Readers' Choice: Mall of America BEST PLACE TO GET DUMPED Nicollet Mall, just outside of Target Take your love interest shopping, and you're bound to expose the fatal flaws in your relationship. The stresses of parking, waiting, and screaming children are bad enough. Add to that the icy anger brought on by having to walk down the wind tunnel known as Nicollet Avenue on a chilly Saturday afternoon. Whoa, who knew he could be so testy? And who knew he would leave you without a ride home. The jerk! Good thing you've got a big selection of bus lines to hop on (when the buses are running, of course). Not to mention that Target is just a heartbeat away, and buying discount chic doodads will surely soothe your ego. For those damned with both a broken heart and an empty wallet, you're close enough to the downtown library, and can at least check out a sappy love story on video for free. Now, if you're heartbroken, broke, and it's Sunday, you're pretty much stuck with walking to Loring Park to feed the ducks. They'll always love you.
BEST PLACE TO MEET SINGLE MEN (STRAIGHT) The Wedge Community Co-op It's a meat market, sure, but with the clout of being the first certified organic meat department in America. Beyond free-range poultry and sirloin, there's no better place in the Cities than this bohemian enclave to pick up your own tofutti-cutie. Simply put, you need the basics--cereal, toilet paper, apple/carrot/banana smoothie with extra wheat grass-- and so does he. Why not make a play by asking if he's into Fair Trade or green tea? The health and produce departments provide several chances for innocuous flirtation, from the right brand of B12 vitamin to the proper way to test the ripeness of a mango. Natural lighting from the glass storefront ensures that you will always look good. So give it a shot.
BEST PLACE TO MEET SINGLE MEN (GAY) 19 Bar After a few decades of selling 3.2 beer, this hole in the wall near Loring Park--reputed to be the city's first gay bar--recently upgraded to a full liquor license. And the jukebox is a gem. For seductive barroom tableau, you can't beat dialing up "Maggie May" and bending over one of the room's 75-cent pool tables for a corner-pocket shot. Compared to the perennial downtown meat markets, the 19 Bar presents a relaxed--if a bit tacky--alternative: The drinks are cheap, the atmosphere is unpretentious, and, as one particularly frank friend put it: "The pretties are always in a minority to the old uglies, so your chances are even better."
BEST PLACE TO MEET SINGLE WOMEN (STRAIGHT) Opitz Outlet We are aware that the public penchant for '70's retro fashion includes a revival of the rumor that the best place to meet single women is at the grocery store. This is a lie that's almost as ugly as low-riding flair pants. Gentlemen, if you want to meet single women, position yourself near a $25 pair of Anna Sui boots and then act like you've heard of Anna Sui. Hands down the complaint we hear most from the single women eking out a sex life in this city is, "Men in Minnesota can't dress." So while you're at it, eyeball the men's clothing. We once knew a handsome young attorney who had a method for meeting women while shopping. He'd try on a decent outfit that almost matched, and then walk through the showroom asking likely young women their opinion on his choices. The ladies dressed him up like a paper doll. This approach won't work for everyone, but the less extravagant opener, "Excuse me, does this tie go with this shirt?" will get the conversation going just as smoothly. So, be where they are, trying on a decent suit. Play your cards right and you'll leave with a date and designer duds to match.
BEST PLACE TO MEET SINGLE WOMEN (LESBIAN) Women's Prison Book Project Every Sunday afternoon women gather at the Arise! Bookstore to read letters from women in prisons all over the country and send them the reading material they request. There's no tiresome sign-up process and no stupid training meeting: Just show up with a smile and a willingness to pitch in and you'll be doing good in the world before you know it. Also, you'll be working with a group of fantastic women, some of them unattached lesbians. The project's library is absolutely tiny, so you're sure to bump into someone fantastic while making a difference in the lives of women all over the country. As an added bonus, you and the new love of your life can celebrate your fantastic relationship every Valentine's Day from here on out at the Women's Prison Book Project Pancake Breakfast Fundraiser.
BEST PLACE TO PEOPLE-WATCH Perkins, late night Many of us city folk don't realize that much like the adventures of squid and jellyfish at the bottom of the ocean, sometimes there's some wacky stuff going on in the 'burbs. So whether it's the cheap eats available at the most ungodly hours or the way that the cool hangouts in the outer metro areas tend to overlap and appeal to multiple cliques, late night at Perkins is always hopping. On any given night you can see a slice of each niche of the city, all in one place. You watch a 300-pound trucker hit on giggly-drunk college girls sharing a plate of chicken fingers in the next booth. Or a group of high school marching band members munching on a plate of fries while occasionally checking their watches between laughs to ensure they make curfew. In the next table a group of leather-clad goths discuss the virtues of graphic novels such as Johnny the Homicidal Maniac over banana cream pie. Another booth contains a pair of thirtysomething professionals typing away in Excel programs on their laptops, occasionally stopping to slurp coffee or stare blankly at something distant. At one of those claw-game machines, two kids, up way past their bedtime, plunk quarters into a gambit destined to take their money. There's a pack of friendly midnight stoners buying more food than they could ever hope to eat, and a cop stopping in for a cookie. The gazing possibilities are limitless...and are you being watched?
Readers' Choice: Minnesota State Fair BEST PLACE TO TAKE OUT-OF-TOWN GUESTS Purcell-Cutts House By all means visit Snoopy. He's big and he's inflatable and your guests will want to see him standing there, a sentinel for Florsheim Shoes and Cinnabon, and all the other one-of-a-kind retail establishments down in Bloomington. Once you've received Snoopy's benediction, and your guests' bemused thanks ("Wow," they always say. "It's really just a mall"), take them to a more organic example of Minnesota architecture. Built in 1913 by Louis Sullivan acolytes William Gray Purcell and George Grant Elmslie, the house appears deceptively simple in design. The color palette could be called "variations on a wheat field," and the rooms are strictly on a human scale. But the detail reveals an astonishing level of planning, artistry, and craftsmanship. (The docents who show off the house one Saturday each month for the Minneapolis Institute of Arts will point out hundreds of features on the hour-plus tour.) A triangular vault runs down the transverse of the first floor, stretching the rooms out to the eye. Instead of shutters, the exterior window wells showcase wood screens that recall the schemes of Charles Rennie Mackintosh. The sunken living room boasts a placid fresco of a heron at sunset, carefully set amid the arched wood trim above the fireplace. A few of the special-made chairs on the first floor let geometry get the better part of comfort. But what impresses you most when you tour this house is how modest materials and dimensions have been employed to such a precise and attractive result. This isn't what happens when you turn your keys over to one of TV's countless home-makeover crews, or buy a big box with a six-car garage in a township that was a cornfield two years ago. Purcell-Cutts House is a holistic conception of how light should glow, how spaces should connect, how a house should look and feel--and what the architects ultimately built is an urban prairie utopia on a 150-foot-by-50-foot lot in the middle of the city.
BEST PUBLIC RESTROOM Amtrak Depot We're all getting tired of the swanky bathrooms and the one-upmanship that goes with them--they don't really mean anything besides their superficiality (eye candy), and essentially, their invasion of one's privacy. As desolate as an Amtrak restroom might strike you, it's the meat-and-potatoes version of a restroom. A nondiscerning, nondiscriminatory, bare-bones kind of a place. Author Richard Ford has something nice to say regarding a person's physical closeness to trains: "I read somewhere it is psychologically beneficial to stand near things greater and more powerful than you yourself, so as to dwarf yourself (and your piddly-ass bothers) by comparison." One's business in an Amtrak bathroom can be cathartic. We don't need to ask anything of the public restroom; it's merely there for you and me, never turning an eye on itself.
BEST STATE FAIR RIDE Magnum Maybe you're the kind of person who likes to spend $25 to be strapped into a nylon harness, hauled into the air by a discount winch, and then dropped about 75 feet, until the man-corset tightens around your corndog-bloated belly and you bounce a few times like a helpless and drooling toddler--all this while a small crowd sits on the ground in mini-bleachers capturing the whole process on video as if you were a topless hoochie mama at Mardi Gras fishing for beads. Hey, some people swing that way--but not us. No, give us Magnum, that Midway mainstay, with its intimate metal booths that rock and spin like planets that are orbiting a little wildly, too close to the sun. And when it comes to brilliant stars, whose name comes to the lips faster these days than Magnum P.I.'s mustachioed sex symbol Tom Selleck? There he is, spray-painted on the giant panoramic backdrop. Even if you haven't seen him in awhile, you'll recognize him right away: He's wearing his usual Detroit Tigers cap and Hawaiian shirt. Maybe after you've spun around a few hundred times to deafening Top-40 hits, you'll have a clearer sense of why there's a 12-foot Coke can wearing neon sunglasses at the hub of the ride. Or maybe you'll be able to explain why the two buxom beach "beauties" painted in the far right corner look like they got sex-change surgery in prison. Every year, we stroll down the Midway expecting to see that Magnum has been painted over, replaced by a muscular and glowering Vin Diesel. And yet like the State Fair itself, Mr. Selleck has proven timeless. We'll be looking for him again come August.
BEST STATE FAIR FOOD Cider Freezies It ain't fried and it doesn't come on a stick. Frankly, it's unlikely to build up in your arteries like stucco, or to accelerate the hour of your death. That's a sure turnoff when it comes to State Fair cuisine. And yet these plastic-wrapped tubes of locally pressed cider do kind of behave like a stick. You can carry them around, for one thing. And when you're sweating like a pig in the stanky pens of the swine barn, you can build up a thirst that can't be cured by any punch that's six parts sugar, one part lemon. Okay, let's just come out with whole truth here: The damn stuff is probably good for you. They're within just a few yards of the giant pumpkins and gourds, too, and it's nice to think that you won't be quite that grotesquely swollen and rotund when you leave the fair. Oh yeah, and at less than a buck a pop, you can afford to buy the kids five or six of them.
Readers' Choice: Cheese Curds BEST USE OF TAXPAYER DOLLARS New playground equipment in Minneapolis parks We're completely, hopelessly, irretrievably smitten with the new playground equipment that's popped up, a few parks at a time, throughout Minneapolis over the last three springs. Because most of the city's play equipment was old and far from meeting current safety standards, in 2002 the Minneapolis Park Board began replacing the chipping, creaking wooden climbers and aluminum swing-sets. Although each playground design varies, depending on individual parks' layouts and the imaginations of the Park Board's five landscape architects, pretty much all of the tot lots we've visited boast sprawling, colorful, fantastical enameled steel structures for big kids, less challenging climbers for the pre-K set, and swing-sets able to accommodate the disabled. There's also an array of outlying climbing nets, new-age seesaws, and flume-like slides. Oh, and parapets, canopies, pirate ships, and endless escape hatches. Even grown-ups can't seem to resist clambering around like a batch of amped-up five-year-olds. We've met more of our neighbors since the equipment went in at our park than we have during years of block club meetings and National Nights Out. Talk about a relatively small investment of tax dollars that has a big impact on the quality of life in our fair cities: better living through jungle gyms.
BEST VIEW The Minneapolis skyline from the St. Anthony Parkway Some of the most impressive views of the downtown skyline are marred by the presence of interstates 94, 35W, and 394. With their elevated exit and entrance ramps, smog, and constant traffic snarls, these highways are not merely obtrusive, they are a dreary reminder of how car culture has diminished the aesthetic qualities of the Mill City. Yes, there are a few unblemished vistas. The nighttime skyline is spellbinding when viewed from a boat on the Mississippi River, especially when the water is glassy and full of reflections. But for you landlubbers out there (which is to say, most people), for whom the river is not always an option, there is the view of the downtown skyline from St. Anthony Parkway in northeast Minneapolis. The best spot is atop the bridge at California Street, where the parkway crosses over a mammoth switching yard. As your eyes trace the multitude of parallel tracks receding into a pinpoint, it's hard not to indulge in a little chuck-it-all fantasy. Railroads may be dirty and noisy, but they are damn romantic. As long as there is the railroad, a penniless getaway always feels like a real option. If the rails don't provide enough eye candy for your liking, shift your gaze a few degrees to the west. You can see the downtown skyline in the distance. Rising from the flat prairie, it looks like Oz, except the field of poppies is a field of trains.
BEST VICTIM Joe Soucheray Poor, poor Joe Soucheray. He is the most put-upon of modern American archetypes: the Conservative Male Talk Show Host (CMTSH). For a group that spends an inordinate amount of time decrying the "culture of victimhood" that is supposedly stripping America of its moral backbone, these folks sure do whine a lot. The Mayor of Garage Logic, like every CMTSH, is relentlessly being oppressed by vile, unshaven feminists and men so emasculated that they don't even know how to work a chain saw. The CMTSH is under siege from liberals (the "flowerpot gang" in Souch's parlance) who supposedly are conspiring to strip them of their money, guns, and SUVs. Of course, we're lucky enough to get an extra dose of Soucheray's whining via his column in the Pioneer Press. (Then again, it's basically a transcript excerpt of his KSTP show.) We're not usually ones to offer career counseling, but perhaps Joe would feel less persecuted if he took a long, long vacation.
BEST VILLAIN David Strom The Pawlenty era has seen the rise of a most unlikely public watchdog, the Minnesota Taxpayers League. The conservative group, which basically views all taxes as the end of Western civilization, has managed to chart the course for the governor's agenda and all of his neo-con followers at the Capitol. And its mouthpiece is David Strom, a former Carleton College professor, who, once upon a time, was a rational purveyor of decent public policy. But something happened with the Republican takeover of the 2002 elections--call it hubris if you must--and suddenly Strom was starting culture wars at every turn. First, Strom was boasting that he had managed to get Pawlenty and a number of legislators to sign a "no new taxes" pledge. Then he was calling for the dismantling of any number of the state's social services. More recently, Strom weighed in on the Metro Transit bus strike, saying that buses weren't really needed after all. Strom's transformation is the hallmark of any good villain, but what makes him Public Enemy Number One is his continuing honeymoon with local reporters, who seem more than happy to grant him a bully pulpit. And Strom is strikingly adept at playing bad cop to Gov. Tim Pawlenty's good cop, ensuring that the governor's image remains coated in Teflon.
Readers' Choice: Tim Pawlenty BEST CHEAP THRILL Driving in January Let's face it, winter around here is one long, death-defying stunt. There are wind chills that would send your average Inuit scurrying for south Florida, and the grit-encrusted mountains of snow that swallow cars and small children. Last but not least, there is the ice that turns Twin Cities roads into a demolition derby for three months. Whether you're whipping crazy-eights in a parking lot or careening home on the freeway, winter driving is cheaper and more thrilling than the State Fair Tilt-o-Whirl. Plus, there's just nothing like the chance of wrapping your beater around a stop sign to make one feel fully alive.
BEST FESTIVAL Grand Old Day The six-figure turnouts at this annual street fair reflect more than ballooning civic ecstasy at the onset of summer. It's a sign that, deep down, St. Paulites may not be ready to fully yield one of their most distinctive thoroughfares to corporate invaders. While it's still lined with some of the Twin Cities' best-loved independent businesses, Grand Avenue has watched its more vulnerable locally owned storefronts give way to big chain stores and a creeping 50th-and-France-ification over the last couple of decades, particularly in and around Victoria Crossing. Accordingly, Grand Old Day is that rare occasion when you can not only count on a wealth of food, shopping, and live entertainment options for every conceivable age group, but also gather up 50 of your closest and/or drunkest friends in front of Pottery Barn to shout down The Man. Beer garden or no beer garden, we need this mighty display of mob revelry and neighborhood communion to disrupt the gathering forces of banality. Plus, it's a rare Sunday when even St. Paul's most steadfast Catholics can tip a few back before noon and not feel like a heathen--or, at least, not the only heathen.
BEST LIBRARY St. Paul Central Public Library To step into the immaculately renovated St. Paul central library just off Rice Park is to be transported back to a time when public libraries were the locus point of cities and hothouses of civic life. The library has all the modern amenities you'd expect, of course: convenient internet access, an efficient and helpful staff, and a terrific children's room with frequent storytelling and puppet-show programs. But when St. Paul gave the 1917 building its two-year, $17 million makeover, it was equally important that the city was careful to preserve the burnished, dignified character of the place, even keeping intact the old stacks in the main reading room. Minneapolis would do well to take a cue from its neighbor as it reinvents its own downtown library.
BEST MONTH TO BE IN THE TWIN CITIES January Admit it, one of the benefits of Minnesota residence is the bragging rights you have among your out-of-town friends. "So, how cold is it now?" they ask, and over the phone line or even via return e-mail you can discern a sympathetic shudder when they get the reply, "It's about 10 below, but it feels like about 30 below with the wind chill. At least the sun's out today, though." "I don't know how you can do it," they'll say, grateful for their temperate environs, and for a moment it's easy to feel pretty tough. Then you remember that the old, the frail, and the infantile usually survive the season too, so maybe it doesn't take so much strength after all. Still, January offers many pleasures to Twin Citians. Pure physical beauty, for one. There aren't many prettier sights than a wet snowfall in the late evening, when snow and ice cling to our plentiful trees making them look like something magical. The sky glows pink, and everything dirty is buried beneath a fresh, clean, glistening blanket of white. January can also be quite productive: It's the obvious time to learn to knit or tackle a difficult novel. And while the quantity of out-of-home entertainment consumed may drop, the quality almost certainly goes up. If you do leave the house, it's gonna be for a damn good reason. Snow sports enthusiasts and people who ice fish don't need to be sold on this month's merits. And finally, it's what January doesn't have that makes it so pleasant. Hear of any drive-by shootings that happened that month? And random sexual harassment goes way down for women: With the population covered in parkas and Elmer Fudd hats, jerks don't know where to direct their catcalls.
Readers' Choice: June BEST WEEKEND GETAWAY Duluth There are quaint American cities without Duluth's windblown bohemia, lakeside burghs without Duluth's severe beauty, and party towns without Duluth's excessiveness. But combine these fascinations into one place, located less than three hours north of the Twin Cities, and you have an almost obligatory road trip for anyone interested in culture as well as nature. For the latter, by the way, Duluth is cooler than down here even on a hot summer day--like the feeling of going down into your basement. The historic port city on the mouth of Lake Superior is so under-run with tourists in the off season that you can virtually count on seclusion along the beach at Park Point, a six-mile-long spit of sand and wispy grass that looks straight out of a French New Wave film. Cross back over the Aerial Lift Bridge toward Superior St., and stop by Hepzibah's candy store for a truffle (394 Lake Ave. S., www.hepzibahs.com). Then explore the Central Hillside neighborhood, home of most of the city's great bands (including Low and their brother band, the Black-Eyed Snakes), plus enough antique, magazine, and coffee shops to keep geeks geeked. (Speaking of which, Duluth is home to the nation's only Geek Prom.) But don't miss the sights that sink into the mind's eye: the old Glensheen Mansion, the Superior Hiking Trail, Leif Erickson Park's rose garden. And once you've cushioned your stomach for a night's hard living (at any of a dozen good, cheap restaurants), check out the half-dozen great live-music clubs: among them, Beaner's Café (324 N. Central Ave., 218.624.5957), Pizza Lucé (11 E. Superior St., 218.727.7400), Fitger's Brewery (600 E. Superior St., 218.722.8826), and the sporadically reopening NorShor Theatre (211 E. Superior St., 218.727.7585). Pick up copies of The Reader Weekly and The Ripsaw News for full details and events, and check out the web log listed above for a better taste of their flavor, which is often wry, ready for fun, a little on the desperate side.
BEST PLACE FOR A FIRST DATE Bryant-Lake Bowl Some of us unlucky few, when put face to face with an individual we are attracted to for a first date, are reduced to neurotic, sweaty-palmed, compliment-fumbling train wrecks barely able to formulate cohesive sentences. Just like Stan Marsh on South Park, still unable to tell Wendy Testaburger his true feelings. It is for people like us that there is the Bryant-Lake Bowl, by far one of the most laid-back atmospheres in town and one place where first dates are bound to run smoothly. Everything on the bar and bowling alley's eclectic menu, which ranges from grilled cheese sandwiches to traditional pad Thai, is reasonably priced. There's a well-rounded selection of tap beers and inexpensive wines. Smaller tables offer two new companions the opportunity to sit close and chat away, putting even the worst first-dater enough at ease to stop worrying about, well, crashing the plane into the side of the mountain. And should conversation prove too dicey, the bowling lanes in the back offer the perfect solution. As we all know, bowling is the only sport you can be absolutely awful at and still have a good time playing.
Readers' Choice: Minneapolis Sculpture Garden Advertisement
2004 Best of the Twin Cities HOME
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