Hi Roger,
I love Duluth. It’s amazing. I live downtown with a view of the lake and South Shore, a three-minute bike ride from a twice-daily swim in our grandmotherly lake. I talk to my kids about how we shower in her, cook with her, drink her, swim in her, fish in her, water our tomatoes.
I mean, Duluth Coffee Kitchen is right there. What a blessing.
I love Duluth in all it’s menace and beauty. I see it growing. I see it flourishing. And I see it floundering.
I’ll call him John.
He lives in a doorway near Chum, which is apparently where he obtains enough nutrients to survive. If John is not in his doorway, he’s usually circling the neighborhood yelling at the invisible people who are yelling at him. They must be saying terrible things, because he is always telling them how it is they who are the worthless fucking motherfuckers, not him.
It recently snowed about thirteen inches here on the hill in the very middle of Duluth. Right here, in the urban middle.
That thirteen inches took three days to fall. It stopped snowing three days ago. The roads in my neighborhood have been entirely passable the whole time. Slick, perhaps, at times, but entirely passable.
Neighbors have been coming and going. School buses. Fed X, UPS.
But no Postal Service. No mail. Not a single truck since last Saturday.
Are they OK? Should we check on them?
… so my kid and I can race these cars around at the speed at which they are intended.
Emerson? Washington? Where’s a good gym floor in Duluth that some dad off the street can access these days?
Please enjoy this highly accurate map of Duluth and Superior.
Duluth music weirdos,
Who can repair my 17(?)-year-old Technics SX-PR51? It turns on, but that’s it. I’m sure it needs a circuit board thing or a new fantambulator or something. I would rather pay an individual than pay Schmitt Music, but I’ll do what I have to do.
I was in a plane crash, and to help deal with the PTSD I’d go to the fitness center and ride stationary bikes for too long and listen to Emma Ruth Rundle too loud. Then I’d take a sauna. One day Al walks in, my musical hero, standing there in his towel. We talk about life, about struggle.
