St. Paul is a baseball town. Really.

Today is the birthday (1951) of Dave Winfield. He was born in St. Paul and grew up there. He went to the University of Minnesota and was a star in several sports. Indeed, professional teams in basketball, football, and baseball drafted Winfield. He chose baseball, was converted from a pitcher to a power-hitting outfielder, and became a star. He spent 22 seasons in the majors, was an all-star every year from 1977 to 1988, and made the Hall of Fame in 2001.

Some interesting things about big Dave:

In 1983, Winfield was playing for the Yankees when, during pregame warmups in Toronto, he threw a ball that hit and killed a seagull. Canadian authorities briefly considered charging him with animal cruelty.

Winfield spent one season (1992) in Toronto, where he helped the blue Jays win their first World Series. They traded him during that off-season.

The irascible George Steinbrenner, owner of the Yankees, was so frustrated by Winfield's lack of production in the playoffs that he dubbed Winfield "Mr. May."

When he was inducted into the Hall of Fame, Winfield gave one of the longest and most boring speeches ever. I know, because Michael and I were there. Kirby Puckett and Bill Mazeroski were inducted that year, too, and their speeches were much better.

We saw Winfield some years later in the Los Angeles Airport. He was heading back to Minnesota to attend the memorial service for Kirby Puckett.

And then there's Jack Morris.

Jack Morris was also born in St. Paul and also played on the 1992 Toronto Blue Jays championship team (he pitched in three playoff games and lost all three). Morris had pitched that amazing Game 7 -- a complete-game shutout -- for the Twins the year before. Winfield made the Hall of Fame on his first year of eligibility; Morris was on the ballot for 15 years before finally getting the votes.

Morris works as a commentator on some Twins TV broadcasts and he is the quintessential grumpy old man. Nothing about the modern game suits him -- he doesn't like advanced stats, the defensive shift, the use of replays, long pants, or bat flips. I can barely stand to listen to him whine.

And don't forget Paul Molitor.

Molitor grew up in St. Paul and had a brilliant 21-year career, mostly with the Brewers. Like Morris and Winfield, he played for the Twins briefly and with Toronto (he was the Blue Jays MVP in 1993 when they repeated as World Series champs). He finished his career as Minnesota's manager but was summarily dismissed after last year's crummy showing.

Fame is Fleeting

It's the birthday (1896) of Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald. He wrote short stories, novels, and screenplays. He moved around a lot -- St. Paul, New York, Paris, Los Angeles. He drank too much and died young. He's still famous around these parts because of his connection to St. Paul.

Here's a picture of the lovely brownstone on Summit Avenue where he lived for a while.

When he was in town, he hung out at the bar in the Commodore Hotel a few blocks away. The building has been converted to condominiums but the bar has been restored and is open to the public. They're having drink specials today, I assume. I have not yet visited the Commodore but it's on the bucket list.

Today is also the birthday (1934) of Arne Carlson, former Governor of Minnesota and frequent commentator on local affairs. Arne was born in New York and went to Choate prep school back east. He came to Minnesota for grad school and never left. He's a sharp-tongued iconoclast, which makes him fun to watch even when he's wrong. Arne has been known to frequent the Commodore bar.

Bob Dylan mentions F. Scott Fitzgerald in this song. I do not know if Bob has visited the Commodore, but I can picture him brooding silently in a corner there.

And in this time-travel scene from Woody Allen's "Midnight in Paris," Scott and Zelda make a cameo appearance. Enjoy!

The Fitzgerald Theater in downtown St. Paul is named for F. Scott, as is a little pub on Selby Avenue called, simply, The Fitz. I've heard The Fitz has good deep-dish pizza, which has nothing at all to do with F. Scott.

The Gang's All Here

Kate "Ma" Barker was famous for heading up her family business; mostly kidnapping, the occasional bank robbery, some protection rackets. Then she teamed up with Alvin "Creepy" Karpis in Saint Paul. The Barker-Karpis gang terrorized the capitol city for a few years. On this day in 1933, the gang robbed the offices of the Swift meat packing company in South Saint Paul, grabbing $30,000.00 in payroll cash and assorted cold cuts.

St. Paul was known as a haven for gangsters in 1920s. The mayor and police chief had a gentleman's agreement with mobsters: the gangs from Chicago and St. Louis and Kansas City could hang out in St. Paul as long as they paid a token bribe to city officials and promised not to cause too much trouble. It worked for a while, but after the Swift robbery the gang felt some heat and moved to Wisconsin, where they presumably stole cheese to go with the meats.

Here's a cute song about stealing, followed by a Brautigan poem on the same theme. It's especially appropriate because the new school year starts in a week or so and right after that our little town holds its annual celebration called (clumsily) "The Defeat of Jesse James Days'"

The memoirs of Jesse James
-- Richard Brautigan

I remember all those thousands of hours
that I spent in grade school watching the clock,
waiting for recess or lunch or to go home.
Waiting: for anything but school.
My teachers could easily have ridden with Jesse James
for all the time they stole from me.

Where to Live (or not)

This is the 100th post!** It is longer than normal, has more pictures, has more links, and is certainly not as literate or funny as some previous posts. So be it. Is there some protocol or tradition for celebrating the 100th post? I think I'll try one of the bottle-fermented French Canadian ales my wife gave me.


Ed, chief mechanic, driver, navigator, and music director of The Old Blue Bus, may be moving from his long-time home in Virginia. He's travelled a lot and lived in many different places, so it is a bit presumptuous of me to jump in with advice or information. Rob Hardy also had some recent posts about legendary sandwiches he has eaten in far-flung places, which reminded me of Tommy's subs in Columbus, where I lived for a few years. I miss Tommy's. So Ed and Rob got me to thinkin' -- what is it about a place (in addition to sandwiches) that would make one choose to live there?

So, here are thumbnail sketches of everywhere I've lived as an adult and why I would or wouldn't want to live there again.

Elkhart, Indiana: Aack. The small town of my youth has turned into a smelly thicket of marginal industries, poverty, and congestion. I tend not to like zoning laws or city planners or similar means of telling other people what they can or cannot do on their own property, but Elkhart is a damning example of unregulated, too-rapid, helter-skelter growth. It is just plain ugly. The photo on the left is the courts building where I used to work. Inspiring, yes?

You can still get great pizza at the Vesuvius restaurant, and parts of the St. Joseph river above the dam are still lovely. The Bonneyville Mill park in Bristol is a treat. But the pizza, the park, and the river cannot overcome the utter dreariness of the rest of the city.

Preference rating for Elkhart: 0 out of 5


Bloomington, Indiana: Meh. I recently visited the campus of my alma mater (IUB, as it's sometimes known) and was struck by the way cars have taken over. Obviously, the campus (even with all those damned cars) is one of Bloomington's assets. The photo on the left is the IU auditorium with the Showalter fountain in front. A very nice focal point for the campus.

Another attractive feature is the hilly, forested countryside surrounding the town. The glaciers stopped short (the furthest southern advance was where Martinsville is now, just north of Bloomington), so the landscape of southern Indiana wasn't scraped flat. The woods and streams and lakes (even the man-made Lake Monroe) are beautiful.

I was the drummer in a crummy rock band that played at bars and VFW clubs in the little towns around Bloomington: Linton, Loogootee, Oolitic, Bedford. That was fun. The legendary bar - Nick's - is still operating. It's right around the corner from the place where Hoagy Charmichael wrote his most famous tunes. Interesting clash of cultures -- the rarefied academic air of the big IU campus vs. the tough, self-reliant limestone workers. I think there was a movie about that.

Preference rating for Bloomington: 3 out of 5


South Bend, Indiana: If you are a college football fan, this is the place. You've got the College Football Hall of Fame and of course the legendary Notre Dame stadium (see photo). If you are not a college football fan, don't give South Bend a second thought as a place to live. It's OK, but if you have the luxury of choosing just about anywhere, this town shouldn't make the short list.

Peter Theodosius was the program director in the St. Joe County jail when I was a grant writer and erstwhile administrator in the probation department. We became friends. Peter's dad ran a bakery a few blocks from the courthouse, so Peter would show up many mornings with some delectable snacks, and we would often wander down to the bakery for an afternoon break -- coffee and Greek pastry. Mmmmm... Peter died of leukemia the year after I left South Bend. He was about 28 years old. That was hard.

And there's the Studebaker museum, which at one time displayed a picture of my great grandfather, George Milburn. He worked at a rival company -- The Milburn Wagon Works -- which was founded by his uncle, also named George Milburn. The owner's daughter Anna (my grandpa's niece) married into the Studebaker family. Milburn sold his wagon business to Studebaker and moved to Toledo, where he built a large automobile factory and made electric cars with some success in the early part of the 20th century.

Preference rating for South Bend: 2.5 of 5


Champaign, Illinois: God, it's flat! The plains can be quite beautiful, but I only recall the howling relentless winter winds and the unrelieved landscape. Damn, people, where are the mountains (or even just a few hills to break up the monotony)? Where are the lakes, the streams, the woods? Why in bloody hell did somebody choose to put the state's big land grant college here?

There was a little bar on Green Street that used to feature fish sandwiches for lunch on Fridays. The proprietors would cover the pool tables with plywood, set out the mayo, mustard, and tartar sauce, and do a very brisk and noisy business. Word was that the fish fillets were tank-raised catfish from Louisiana, which put some people off, but I liked 'em!

The only other highlight I can think of is Assembly Hall, where the Illini play their home basketball games. I'm not a big college hoops fan, but the building is architecturally unique. It's made of two huge cement bowls, one inverted on the other. Where they meet, the lateral forces are contained by heavy steel cable wound around the circumference. It's a brilliantly simple way to hold up the roof, making internal supports unnecessary. The effect is striking, both inside and out. How come more arenas aren't built this way?

Preference rating for Champaign: 2.5 of 5


Columbus, Ohio: I liked living in Columbus. Tommy's pizza and subs, a little bagel place called "Easy Living," the Clippers minor league ballpark, German Village, Marzetti's Studio 35 Cinema.

Every city should have a Studio 35. An old movie theatre playing first-run, second-run, independent, and foreign films. The unique twist is a little bar/restaurant in the back. One can get a beer and a burger, sit in a booth, and watch the movie through a plate glass window separating the restaurant from the theatre proper. Brilliant idea! I lived just blocks from Studio 35 and considered myself fortunate.

And the countryside around Columbus is attractive -- the Hocking Hills and some reservoirs on the Olentangy and Scioto rivers are great in summer and fall.

Preference rating for Columbus: 4 of 5


St. Paul, Minnesota: I lived briefly on the East Side, which had a bad reputation. At the time, Payne Avenue was known for its seedy bars, strip joints, and porn shops. The big draw was a place called The Payne Reliever, which drew crowds, but not the kind of crowds the Chamber of Commerce prefers. Payne Avenue and the rest of the East Side have undergone something of a transformation. That's good, I guess.

St. Paul really is a lovely, lively city, having pushed itself hard to shine as brightly as its cross-river rival, Minneapolis. But you can have the fancy hockey arena, the glitzy science museum, and the classic state capitol building. I'd live in St. Paul for just two reasons: Cossetta Italian deli and the Ordway Theatre. The Ordway, pictured above, is on Rice Park, which is surrounded by beautiful buildings -- Landmark Center (the old federal courts building), the venerable St. Paul Hotel, and the main public library. These buildings make Rice Park one of the prettiest urban settings I've seen.

Preference rating for St. Paul: 4 of 5

Minneapolis, Minnesota: No two ways about it, I like Minneapolis. I liked living there and working there and I like to hang out there. I like the stuff I'm supposed to like -- the Guthrie Theatre, the Minneapolis Instutute of Arts, the Walker, the Weisman, the fantastic lakes and the parkway linking them together. The river. I like to prowl the skyway system. I like the distinct neighborhoods. I like the public transit system, which is even better now than when I lived there.

And there are some hidden gems in Minneapolis that make it even more interesting. Ted Cook's 19th hole barbecue joint reminds me of the famous tiny rib places near the University of Chicago or in Berkely. Good stuff cheap. The International Design Center -- a pretentious name for a furniture store -- has beautiful, high-quality stuff and reasonable prices. The public golf courses are excellent. Stub and Herbs deli. The Northern Clay Center. The Electric Fetus record store. The annual summer Fringe Festival is a lot of fun.

And of course, to top it all off, the Twins will open the 2010 season in a new downtown ballpark.

Ok, that's probably enough for you to get the idea. Yeah, there's that annoying thing called winter, but even so, Minneapolis tops my list.

Preference rating for Minneapolis: 4.75 of 5


Northfield, Minnesota: Nice little college town just 35 miles from Minneapolis/St. Paul. What could be better? All the charm and ease of a small town with ready access to the delights of the Twin Cities. It's nice. People are nice. The hidden gem is probably Chapati, the excellent Indian restaurant, which one would not expect to find in a little town. City planners have made some bad decisions in recent decades, resulting in a proliferation of cheap suburban-style development, including a commercial strip on the south edge of town that is painfully bleak. Makes me sad.

Still, it's a nice little town, which reminds me of the opening lines of a Greg Brown song, Speed Trap Boogie:

It's a nice little town
It's a clean little town
It's a nice little, clean little, happy little, friendly little
town for miles around.

Preference rating for Northfield: 4.5 of 5

Whew!

** Blogger's counting mechanisms are contradictory. According to the archives on the right sidebar, this is the 97th post. But according to the counter in the "manage posts" section of Blogger, the one before this was number 99 and this one is number 99. I haven't conducted a manual count because I don't care. This is post number 100.