“When smoking clove cigarettes is outlawed, then only outlaws will smoke clove cigarettes”: The awful, true story of the S. 12th Teen Party Annex, parts 1, 2 and 3. To this day, not a single actual teenager has registered for the S.T.T.P.A. Possibly related, as well as this.
“Remember the bad old days, before the Internet, when you didn’t know anything about an artist except what you read in zines, liner notes and magazine reviews?”: Christina Billotte Week, a more-or-less successful attempt at blogging in-depth about one subject for an entire week. Start on page 4 and work forward.
“Portland is a city that seems intent on making sure oddball things are happening to you every moment you are there.”: Let’s put on a white suit and go to Portland for Open Engagement. Apparently, the conference organizers found my blog and were irritated that I had written that the event sounded like it would be one of the “least structured events I have ever attended.” I forget that people read things unprompted on the Internet sometimes. Read for yourself here.
Meanwhile, around Minneapolis: the difference between “South Minneapolis” and “Midtown” (with follow-up), the year in offensive Minnesota-specific flags, la historia terrible de Don David, the accidental coffee date with Ted Kennedy’s press secretary, the wasp’s nest catchetism, a close brush with my 1970s doppelganger on Nicollet Avenue, a little early evening workface, wasting time with Fritz Pollard at the library, it was all a dream, the S. 12th exclusive that made two handsome painters the most lusted-after men in the city this summer, and the Great-Grandparent Neighborhood Litmus Test. Also, this was completely made-up. This was my favorite thing I wrote about Minneapolis all year. And of course, one more recurring annual feature/public service.
To you, reader, thank you for making S. 12th such a strangely important part of my day-to-day life. It’s only fun to write this stuff because I know you read it.