The bike room
July 26, 2012
Six or seven years ago, my office relocated a block and a half away. We had to do this because our landlord signed a new, higher-falutin’ tenant and they wanted the whole floor. But what the landlord had to do in return was move us to a “comparable” space. We gained a couple of things and we lost a couple of things. I’m still not sure how they balance each other out.
Yes I am. At the old space we could bring our dogs to work. My bosses had Sophie, a completely wonderful, goofy, lazy Airedale. Most of the time she laid around like a lump, but whatever she was doing or not doing, she’d make you smile and make the office a more pleasant place. We could also not only bring our bicycles into the building, but up to the space. In our current building we can do neither. But we are closer to the heart of downtown. We are closer and we are in a building that is connected to the skyway, that system of hamster trails that shelters us delicate Minnesotans from the elements during the winters that we know to expect. We can walk to lunch spots five minutes faster. I like that.
The tough adjustment for me was having to leave my bike outside on the street. There are lovely, sturdy hitching posts in front of the building but I wasn’t used to having to worry whether passing thugs would vandalize it merely because it was Tuesday. Of course nothing has happened, and in the ensuing years I’ve gotten over any misgivings I originally had. If the weather is going to be rainy, there’s a building around the corner with a bike rack under an overhang. Because my bike is a delicate flower that doesn’t like getting wet, you know.
Recently, there has been a turn of events. We still can’t bring dogs to the office, but a new tenant apparently got it written into the lease that an indoor bike parking area would be provided from which we all benefit. I still usually leave my bike outside, but it’s nice to know it’s there for unsettled days. I guess it’s part of the character and charm of our 1885 building that the room is quirky and dungeon-like.
Landlocked lobster love
July 17, 2012
We Minnesotans may be landlubbers but one thing is for certain—we have good food. I know there are many excellent restaurants around the area, but my personal focus on eating out for two and a half summers has been with our new industry of (mostly) high-end food trucks. Two summers ago there were just a handful on our streets. Last summer there were a few more. This summer there has an explosion of new food trucks, and I don’t mean in the combustible sense.
The chefs who run these trucks aren’t afraid to make good food. And I certainly am not afraid to enjoy it. In fact, in the last couple of weeks, I have had the pleasure of consuming three completely different lobster rolls. Yes, you heard me. Lobster rolls. Here in landlocked Minnesota. (I don’t count Lake Superior. There are no lobsters there. Delicious lake trout, yes. Lobsters, no.)
Next up: Get Sauced
Newcomers: SushiFix
1000 Paces: home to office
February 16, 2010
Here is an unprecedented look at my morning commute! The assignment was to walk 500 paces from your home and take a picture. That’s the big one in the middle. But I learned something unexpected—it is exactly 1000 paces from my home to my office coffee pot.
100 paces: I’m almost to the sidewalk along Cedar Avenue. That’s neighborhood institution Palmer’s Bar across the street and the Riverside Plaza highrises in the distance. (Pop culture note: In the Mary Tyler Moore Show, those highrises were where Mary moved to from her first apartment in the large house.)
200 paces: I’ve crossed the street and am walking along Cedar Avenue. On my right out of frame is the blue side door to one of the neighborhood mosques.
300 paces: Cutting through a parking lot at the edge of the highrises on my way to the light rail station.
400 paces: Taking a short cut through the driveway and between two other apartment buildings. (Pop culture note: some tiny indy movie was filmed here because these buildings were deemed to look like European apartment blocks. It’s more striking when you’re close-up, and I don’t know the name of the movie.)
500 paces: On the other side of the apartment building. There isn’t usually a truck blocking my way.
600 paces: About to cross onto the Cedar-Riverside Station light rail platform.
700 paces: I’m on the train!
800 paces: I’ve just left Nicollet Mall Station downtown and crossed the street.
900 paces: Approaching my work building which is out of frame on the right. I purposely looked to the left a little so that I could include the Shubert Theater in the frame. You may remember the Shubert Theater as a character in one of my early posts.
1000 paces: In the building, up the elevator to the 11th storey, into my office, and through to the kitchen. My coffee pot is the little one. In the almost fifteen years that I’ve worked for my company, I remain the only person who drinks decaf. But that’s in the morning. I enjoy regular coffee after lunch.
And there you have my ten minute journey. That was fun. I might have to do a series of these 1000 pace walks.
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