Johnny Love an x wrestler owns this gym that I went to when I was in High School. The building use to be a warehouse or industrial work shop prior to becoming a gym. This place is the old school gym that

Lately, a day hasn’t gone by that I haven’t seen Mary Kiffmeyer’s name mentioned somewhere in the Twin Cities’ media mass, and I’ve yet to see anything positive about our one and only Secretary of State. In fact, a consensus seems to be building that the official charged with making it easy for Minnesotans to vote is either deliberately trying to hold down voter turnout, or is so mind-bogglingly stupid that her attempts to increase turnout are having the opposite effect.

Why would an elected official want to hold down voter turnout? Well, Kiffmeyer is a Republican, the party that tends to do well in low-turnout elections, because their base always votes, and the Democratic base often takes a pox-on-both-their-houses attitude and stays home. This year, new voter registration is through the roof in many states, including Minnesota, and that doesn’t bode well for the President, even though national polls continue to indicate that the race is as tight as a drum. So if you’re a conspiracy-minded sort, it isn’t a big leap to the idea that Mary Kiffmeyer is actually trying to discourage people from voting this November.

Ordinarily, when politically motivated charges like this crop up, partisans of the opposite side turn out in droves to defend their guy and make counter-charges of gamesmanship and rumormongering. But in Kiffmeyer’s case… nothing. Nada. (Well, almost nada. There was this op-ed from some local flak in Carver County, but that ain’t exactly calling on the big guns.) The state GOP seems content to let her dangle, and a lot of even-minded folks in state politics have begun to openly suggest that, while she may not actually be intentionally sabotaging the election, she is just not bright enough to do her job. Again, them’s fightin’ words, but I’m not seeing any top GOPers leaping to her defense with any degree of enthusiasm.

Ordinarily, I’m not much for conspiracy theories, and I have no idea what Kiffmeyer’s motivations are. But I will say this - her actions over the last several months sure look like an effort to suppress turnout, and in a year in which Karl Rove and his cronies are taking dirty tricks to new levels, I’m more than a little concerned about what’s going on in the SecState’s office.

Oh, and in case you were wondering: Secretary of State is an elected position in Minnesota.

Greetings, dear friends. It seems that I missed the Minneapolis rollout, what with my whirlwind trip to see my cousin married off in Colorado. Things are off to a roaring start, aren’t they?

It is customary that I tell you I live not in Minneapolis, but in Saint Paul. Somehow they let me in here. Before you call the local Department of Homeland Security office, let me defind myself: I work in Uptown. And my romantic interest lives right off the Hiawatha Corridor. And she’s a vegetarian. Which pretty much makes me live right off the Hiawatha Corridor.

Truth is, if I practiced real hard, I could spit on the suburbs from the roof of my apartment building. Lots of people are tempted to spit on the suburbs. I live on the East Side, right off I94, and sure, there’s a Krispy Kreme a few blocks from here, but I assure you, it’s still St. Paul proper.

I have lived in more romantic sections of this wonderful city. When I moved here from South Dakota, precisely five years ago, I lived on Grand Avenue, a block from the Grand Olde Creamery (the finest ice cream available, yes?). This is a fantastic neighborhood to live in, as long as you can tolerate or otherwise learn to revel in Grand Old Day, the first weekend of every June. I’ll always remember one year, my band [we have another musician here] played a private party in a wildlife conservancy up north. I awoke and stepped outside to hear absolutely nothing but a distant woodpecker. Nary a man-made sound. After breakfast I made the drive back to the city, and when I got home there were 55,000 people on my front lawn, and a reggae band was playing in the parking lot across the street. The guy in the apartment down the hall had a keg in his living room, and it seemed he had invited anyone who could still walk up the steps to come in and shout. The space between my building and the next had become an impromtu lavatory.

Then I lived on Cathedral Hill. After that it was the Merriam Park neighborhood, on Marshall, a block from Izzy’s Ice Cream (the second finest ice cream available). Ice cream is everywhere. Except for nine months, in which I had to settle for the Dale St. Mississippi Market’s supply of Cedar Summit Farms’ Ice Cream (again, a block away), I’ve always been close to a top-notch ice cream manufacturer. I swear to you, this is purely by coincidence.

So now it’s Culvers’ frozen custard–wait for it–a block away. Admittedly, not as unique or boutique, and the chain is from Wisconsin-of-all-places, but it is just as fattening.

I really don’t plan to spend a lot of time in this space hyping performances that I, myself, am involved in, but I would feel remiss if I didn’t point out that one of the best singers in the world will be at Orchestra Hall this weekend.

Jane Eaglen is quite simply the best Wagner soprano alive today. She hasn’t performed in Minneapolis for five years, but I just got out of a rehearsal with her, and I’m here to tell you that she is absolutely spectacular. She’ll be the soloist with the Minnesota Orchestra this Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights, and even if heavy Germanic opera isn’t really your thing (and actually, I must admit that it isn’t mine,) she may just make it your thing. Oh, and just as a bonus, former MN Orch music director Edo deWaart is conducting, and he’s something of a Wagner master himself.

If you want a ticket, you can get one online here. And with that, I’ll put an end to the shameless self-promotion, and return to gushing over grocery stores.

There are significant differences between the races in education achievement occurring in Minneapolis schools per a report put out by The Education Trust. I thought MPR has done an excellent job covering the story.

A few pieces I took from the report besides seeing education gap:
(more…)

I wanted to share with everybody where to snatch up free movie preview tickets. You can go to City Pages to find free previes every Wednesday. Click on the movie you want to see and it tells you where to go to pick up the tickets. Today’s movie is for The Grudge next Thursday. It is over at Betty’s Bikes & Buns. Lex, I expect you to pick up a ticket. I’ll be going as well. Now off to Betty’s…

I took the small car ride across the river to the other city that makes up our Twin Cities. I saw a play at the Ordway last night in St. Paul. It was the wonderful song and dance production of “Fosse”. I had seen this show the first time it came through the cities about five years ago. It was tremendous. Fosse was THE best musical choreographer of his time. He really took the dance form of jazz and made it his own. If you haven’t been treated to a movie musical with some of his choreography, you are missing out. Go rent Damn Yankees or the Pajama Game right now!!
I digress. This show was a what is know in acting as a C cast. That is when the tour has been going on long enough for them to hire both equity and non-equity members for the cast. This is really the first production that I noticed it. Fosse needs to have precision and style. Not just any style either. You need to ALL have the same style. That was the biggest problem I had with the show. Some dancers put extra flair in and some had hardly any flair. Overall the show was fun, though. I still love me some great jazz dancing!!
If you have never been to the Ordway (mortal sin, by the way) I suggest you go. It is a really wonderful theater. It is the biggest in the Twin Cities if I am not mistaken. I think the State and Orpheum might be deeper, but this one is wider. I really haven’t sat in a bad seat in this theater. Even the “nose bleed” seats have great views. My next adventure to the theater will be in December for “Chicago”. Maybe I’ll see you there?…

As I’ve said before, I need to get out more. Does anyone know if there are any bars in the Uptown area that will be showing the Presidential debate tonight?

If I’m going to watch this, I need to be good and sauced.

This is the time of year in the Twin Cities where bikers become anxious. We know our days our numbered before the temperatures drop below even our stalwart tolerance and the snow flies. Every precious minute of riding time is cherished because every ride could be the last one of the season.

The biker scene in Minneapolis is remarkably well-developed for a sub-arctic clime. Perhaps it has to do with our proximity to the Harley-Davidson Mecca in Milwaukee, WI… perhaps it’s because Minnesotans attack outdoor sports with a desparation reserved for those with the shortest summers. Whatever the cause, there’s lots of opportunity to cruise around town and hang with other brothers-in-arms.

I can’t sing the praises of Betty’s Bikes and Buns enough. This new Northeast biker coffeehouse is the perfect blend of atmosphere, munchies and moto-nostalgia “where lies become legend.”

I braved the autumn chill for a trip there tonight. Notebook in hand, I jotted notes in between cuddling a tall mocha and noshing on a monstrous chocolate chip cookie. Here’s a slice of the experience at Betty’s:

The punk girls behind the counter are grooving to upbeat tunes as I come in the door. They laugh and joke as they take my order. I’ve been there enough that they recognize me, and the tone is familiar. The TV plays Chopper Chicks in Zombie Town. The walls are decorated with nostalgic moto-racing posters and motorcycle ads. Vintage bikes stand against the walls.

It’s my habit to check out the postings of bikes and parts for sale. There’s an alterna-punk techie sitting at a table with his laptop, PDA and cellphone. The glow of his screen shines in his glasses as he absent-mindedly sips coffee and types away at his keyboard.

Outside there’s a group of guys talking. There’s only one other woman here (she rides a Ducati Monster) that isn’t working here. I’ve met her before; we exchange pleasantries. I park myself outside while my boyfriend smokes, hunkered down with my cookie, coffee and notepad.

A guy shows up with his dog and an elderly woman, presumably his mother. She’s got shorts on. Someone comments she’s lightly dressed for the chilly night. She responds that the cold is good for her joints. The dog happily visits all within leash-reach.

All heads turn when the tell-tale rumble or purr of a new arrival can be heard. In this case it’s an old shovelhead Harley. The dog stands up and chuffs a bark at the bike. Once the rider’s out of earshot, the owner praises the dog for a job well done. The little old lady says the dog always gets that way around Harleys.

Eavesdropping is one of my favorite passtimes at Betty’s. You can overhear stories of eBay auctions for bikes or parts, half-baked political debates and tall tales of close calls and crashes. The bikes vary as much as the conversations and the riders. There’s classic BMWs, spanking new sportbikes, menacing Harleys and cafe racers. All with a distinct personality, but sharing the same experiences on the road.

There’s more than just juicy conversations and eye candy to digest at Betty’s. While I love the coffee and cookies that eat like a meal, there’s old diner-style favorites like rootbeer floats and milkshakes. Coffeehouse standards of espresso and coffee drinks abound. There’s an impressive array of teas, as well. There’s even breakfast sandwiches on the menu. The prices are all pretty reasonable, with a large mocha only setting me back $3 bucks.

So if you’re in the neighborhood, swing by Betty’s for a taste of some gearhead nostalgia and friendly atmosphere. You won’t regret your visit.

Tonight I braved the cold night air on my sportbike to head over to Betty’s Bikes and Buns near Hennepin and Central. Of all the biker joints I’ve hung out in around the Twin Cities, I like Betty’s the best.

There’s a certain atmosphere to Betty’s that I’m challenged to articulate. More on that later. What follows is my personal assessment of local motorhead hangouts from the perspective of a 30-something biker chick. Some of the other biker hangouts I’ve visited just don’t click with me. I either feel too young, too yuppie, too sober or too female to hang in some of these places. Perhaps I’m just a snob.

The Joint (and the affliated Cabooze and Whiskey Junction) is usually full of aging Harley dirtbags. The patio can be nice for seeing cool bikes, but it’s not worth enduring the staggering drunks who want to hit on me or ask ridiculous questions about my metric cruiser. (”What kinda Harley is that?” “It’s a Yamaha.” “Oh.”)

Bob’s Java Hut is more mellow, but usually overcrowded and afflicted with the aloof hipness of Uptown hangs that seems to keep people from talking to each other. There’s more sportbikers there, but the parking is terrible. I visit Yarusso’s for Two-Wheel Wednesdays (the first Wednesday of each month) to hang out with the guys from the Warrior board, an owner’s forum for the cruiser I ride. There’s an interesting mix of folks there, trending toward the dirtbags. But, at least there’s free pasta… a girl’s gotta eat, y’know? Then there’s Selma’s Ice Cream Parlor in Afton. Terrific ice cream, nice scenic ride, but it’s too far from the Cities to be worthwhile, especially on a weeknight.

Part of the problem, I’m sure, is that I’m practically the only member of my demographic of biker. I’m a professional condo-dwelling 30-year-old chick living in the Standish neighborhood. I’m not exactly a hot target market for biker joints to cater to.

That’s why I like Betty’s so much. I took my sportbike out there tonight with notebook in hand to take some notes about what I like about the place. My next post will sum up my notes from tonight’s excursion.