Happy New Year, January 2004

Incredulity was the only word to sum up my reaction to the news of the junta at the Minneapolis Park Board.   Generalissimo Fine appointed me to the task force on off-leash dog parks, which occupied a number of columns, introduced me to some dedicated folks, and took much of my spare time during my last two years in Minnesota.  Bob Fine always returned my calls, greeted me warmly, nodded politely, spoke candidly, listened patiently, and systematically voted against every measure that would have ensured success for the dog parks.

Park Board meetings in 1999 and 2000 were a prophesy of “The Osbornes.”  Like watching a car crash, we flocked to downtown to see which commissioner was being shunned, smeared, sued, or simply out-maneuvered.  As a clinical social worker, I found it fascinating to witness such blatant dysfunction. As a Californian, I would now be classified as a busybody at best and an outside agitator at worst.  It saddens me that even after changing some of the players, the board still appears to be working at cross-purposes.

On another topic, thank you for Paul Magers.  I remember walking Stella the insane boxer around the neighborhood alleys, marveling at all the work being done on the Magers’ East Isles home.  I do not know where they are living, but Los Angeles is so vast I doubt it is anywhere near Stella and me, particularly if CBS doubled his one million dollar a year salary.  It is fun to see a Minnesota celebrity, even if he is reporting on freeway car chases instead of weapon-wielding Minnesotans.

L.A. no longer has professional football, so the locals live vicariously.  Red McCombs and the Vikings are on the short list of teams that are seen as “woo-able” and vulnerable to moving to the west coast.  Consequently there is a disproportionate share of coverage of the Purple.  After the Arizona game there were continual replays of the meltdown on  local television.  The L.A. Times devoted a lot of space to Minnesota’s ineptitude.  I think the idea of  kidnapping the Vikings lost considerable momentum.  New stadium or not, I think the boys are staying in the Twin Cities.  Pretty shrewd.

My students wear gloves, scarves, and  heavy sweatshirts to class.  It is understandable, as the temperature has plummeted to 58 degrees.  I attempt to tell them that back home the same weather would call for tank tops and running shorts.  Instead I get huddled masses with chattering teeth outside my door.  You can imagine the interest these southern California kids take in my very occasional stories of it being too cold to snow, car doors frozen shut, and snow so deep there is nowhere to put it all.  When asked if I miss Minnesota, I answer that I miss Minnesotans.

Tom H. Cook is a North American writer with a west coast slant on Minnesota events, or is it the other way around?  He wishes everyone a Happy 2004 and beyond.