Random Posts

Sam Elliott and Duluth’s Heavenly Air

Famed actor Sam Elliott plays the role of Wild West, the new mayor of Quahog on the animated Fox-TV comedy The Family Guy. Adam West played himself as the previous mayor on the show; he died in 2017.

In season 19, episode 7, which aired on Sunday, lead character Peter Griffin mentions to Wild West that his brother Adam has “gone on to a better place.” Wild West quickly cuts in to infer the better place must be Duluth. He extends the thought with, “Beautiful country Duluth. The air moves into your nostrils like a welcome guest.”

James G – “No Pressure”

Here’s the latest from former Duluthian James Geisler, aka hip-hop artist JamesG.

Ripped at the Anchor Bar in 2000

[Editor’s note: For this week’s essay we’ve once again pulled out a relic from the archive of Slim Goodbuzz, who served as Duluth’s “booze connoisseur” from 1999 to 2009. The Sultan of Sot documented his experience at the Anchor Bar in the Nov. 29, 2000 issue of the Ripsaw newspaper.]

At the northern edge of the United States lies the state of Wisconsin, which leads the nation in alcohol consumption. At the northern edge of Wisconsin lies the broken-down city of Superior, which features the famed Tower Avenue, a street lined with dozens upon dozens of cheap dives. And at the northern edge of Tower Avenue lies the Anchor Bar, the Queen Mother of all dives, a place that represents everything good in the world.

The Anchor Bar is the love of my life. The beer selection is extensive, the food is excellent and both are cheaper than hell. And though all appearances indicate that it is a bar for thugs, there are no thugs there; the tough women behind the bar ran them out years ago. Fortunately, they grudgingly tolerate the hooligans and drunks, such as myself, who remain. Decorated in early pigsty, the place is dark and greasy-smelling, and is populated by the kind of people who just want to drink beer and act like real humans.

Keep Duluth Clean – Volunteers Needed!

In an effort to Keep Duluth Clean, this initiative strives to promote community-motivated cleanup events and work to minimize illegal dumping, littering, and mishandling of Duluth’s ecosystem services. KDC is looking to recruit a committee of volunteers to work together to develop a strategic plan that fosters the growth of the initiative, increased awareness and education, and above all, Keeping Duluth Clean. If you are interested in becoming a committee member visit duluthmn.gov/kdc to apply.

Stormy or Calm

She called me after dinner. “I think I need to go to Bemidji. Something is wrong with Charlie.”

Charlie was her son, a slender, emo-goth kid, like I was when I was his age, but with a gregarious desire to be liked. Committed to social justice — as most middle schoolers seem to be, lately — Charlie was attending a language camp. The camp would end the next morning, so leaving that night was ahead of schedule.

“Swing by my place on the way there, and I will ride with you,” I told her.

She drove the first leg of the trip, down Highway 2 through Proctor into Grand Rapids, where we pulled over for gas. She called the camp to get clarification about why Charlie needed to be picked up. Was he sick? Food poisoning? Running a temperature? No. He had said some words that meant he had to leave the camp; he could not spend the night.

Monthly Grovel: November 2020

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The COVID-19 pandemic continues to surge, forcing many events to “virtual” status, but there are a few in-person gatherings with varying levels of safety protocol in place. Proceed with caution and consult the PDD Calendar for the scoop on what’s happening today, tomorrow and far off into the dreamy future when we can spit on each other again.

Each month Perfect Duluth Day reaches out with one beggarly blog post to remind everyone that human beings and not machines are at work editing and publishing calendar events. So if you appreciate it, drop a few bucks in the PayPal account.

Schrodinger’s Beer: A Refutation of Quantum Physics from the Duluth Bar Scene

Latest Richardson brothers podcast episode. Full text below the jump.

Duluth reference in Sarah Cooper’s “Everything’s Fine”

Fourteen minutes into the Netflix comedy special, Aubrey Plaza, playing a shopping channel host, takes a call from a QAnon follower in Duluth who wants to know what her naan order really means.

Trouble

Growing up in Alaska, the wild space around me was something invisible. I had no awareness that the world was something other than myself. My friends and I perambulated the wilderness with the careless disregard of youth, clambering to the peaks of 100-foot-high pine trees and swinging from the soft tops on dares.

There was a tree fort out in the woods that was 25 feet in the air — not even halfway up the tree. The way up was almost entirely crumbling chunks of boards nailed erratically into the trunk to form rungs. At the top, one had to stretch out and grab the floor of the fort and sort of clamber up over the lip of the platform. Conveniently, the platform was disintegrating, so the edge was rougher and shallower than it once had been, making it less a switchback climbing maneuver to swing to the platform than a lean of faith. I wonder if the kids who live in those houses now even know it’s there — some aeriform retreat hovering above the houses like a mossy cloud.

Ripped on Sunday in 2000

[Editor’s note: For this week’s essay we’ve once again pulled out a relic from the archive of Slim Goodbuzz, who served as Duluth’s “booze connoisseur” from 1999 to 2009. Twenty years ago our anti-hero took a Sunday-night tour of drinking establishments in Proctor and nearby townships.]

“Oh yeah, now, Flip’s Bar, I’d stay away from that place,” this inebriated wastoid in a Motorhead T-shirt told me about three months back. “No, Flip’s is the roughest place in Proctor. It’s a real dive. You don’t wanna go there.” Naturally, after hearing this, I did want to go there. So when Sunday boredom started to get the best of me, I decided to stir things up and head to Flip’s.

There were two cars in the parking lot when I arrived, and one of them was for sale. I walked in the door to find no one there except an old guy behind the bar, who I presumed was Flip himself. I didn’t hang around to find out. Before the old dude even knew I had opened the door, I was back in my El Camino, swearing to milk this night for whatever I could get.

Monthly Grovel: October 2020

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Whether or not 2020 has already been scary enough, October is here and Halloween will soon be upon us. The PDD Calendar is already sorting out the Halloween events, so everyone will know whether their plans should involve one mask or two.

Each month we reach out with one beggarly blog post to remind everyone that human beings and not machines are at work editing and publishing calendar events on Perfect Duluth Day. So if you appreciate it, drop a few bucks in the PayPal account.

New podcast about “Uncovering the Truth in Minnesota”

I just found an investigative podcast based out of Duluth called “Uncovering the Truth in Minnesota.”

“Unconstrained, unbiased, and driven for the truth, follow us as we use journalism to tell the untold stories of Minnesota,” reads the description on Apple Podcasts. “Join your Co-hosts, Sarah Knieff and Izabel Johnson, for weekly episodes released on Tuesdays!”

Melted

The light changes. A cover has opened, slit of sun beaming into the darkness, a ha-ha neiner-neiner taunt transmitted from the world of wind and spit. In the quick second between dandelion shaft blinking back to onyx, a gentle violence occurs, crinkling followed by thump.

A book has been returned.

***

With that thump, the movable floor inside the Returns bin lowers almost imperceptibly; a single book isn’t that heavy, after all. But then the flap clinks, signaling another, another, another, dark to light, light to dark, typeset words in freefall. Absorbing the weight of pages and ideas, springs stretch, and the catching floor gradually sinks.

It’s designed to protect the books, this bin is. When it’s empty, the floor rests near the top, quick purchase for incoming books slithering through the slot. As Returns accumulate, the floor gradually descends, earlier Returns nesting and bolstering newcomers so no volume sustains damage from a traumatic plummet.

Postcard from Enger Memorial Tower in 1950

This postcard was mailed 70 years ago. The date on the postmark is not clear, but it looks like July 8, 1950. The signature of the sender is also not entirely clear, but it appears to be Helen Lold. The recipient is Henry Maursey of Midland, Mich.

A Day in Duluth Can be a Lifetime

My wife and I were eager to spend the afternoon alone together as we ambled through the Leif Erickson Rose Garden. Four pre-teen girls stood across the way giggling together as we concentrated on the bushes and trees aflush with blooms in the mid-July sunshine. The scent of flowers was already adrift as we approached one tree, and we drew closer. We love the smell of flowers. Often, we pick up a bouquet at the grocers on the way to the milk, bread, and eggs. On this day, we inhaled the soft scents before they were cut.

Back on the sidewalk, we turned toward the Lake and, from this higher vantage point, we saw the Aerial Life Bridge in the distance. The Lake is calm, for the most part — there are no white caps to indicate a brewing storm. An easy breeze cools our skin and clothing, even from an eighth of a mile away. A footbridge crosses well above the interstate highway. For about 45 seconds as we walk across, we hear the thrum of rubber tires against the tarmac below. Three-fourths the way across, we hear a group of teens with their two chaperones palavering behind us. Excited about an adventure on the Lakewalk, they quickly approached from behind us to the ramp in front of us that slanted from the footbridge to the lakefront. We hastened to move to one side of the bridge so the teens could run at their pace, and we could stroll at ours.