Cinco de Miracle Whip

Today northern Minnesotans celebrate their Mexican pride. Bars have been advertising, with even more dubious grammar than normal, drink specials for sombrero wearers, cheap margaritas, the requisite $1 beer, and free tacos.
However, I'm suspicious whether today will prove to be the explosion of flavor and culture we've all been promised. While living here, I have seen people begin to sweat after eating black pepper. I have seen people slather Miracle Whip on their tacos. I have seen the following ingredients melted together, transferred to a casserole dish, and christened a bean dip:
-- 1 brick of Velveeta
-- 1 lb Philadelphia cream cheese
-- 2 cans refried beans

Served, naturally, with a side of mild salsa. Olé, que sabor.

Foreign policy

When you're chatting with someone in Ely who makes reference to a trip they took to Tunis with their father a while back, wait a couple minutes for them to clarify before expressing interest in their experience. Because, as I learned today, chances are they're not talking about the capital of Tunisia. Nope, chances are good that they're actually talking about Tuna's Strip Club in Eveleth, Minnesota.

Tuna's Strip Club. It's real.

Overnight Low -34

Sad Times

This morning:
"Is it really cold out?"

"Nah, it's actually warm. It's like ten degrees."

"Oh, sweet."

The Numbing Process

I've started noticing signs that I'm adjusting to life in northern Minnesota. It's a worrisome prospect, but my mother has promised that if I stay up here too long she'll drug me and drag me back to New England by my hair under cover of darkness. So that's a comfort.

Signs that I've adjusted:
--When the checkout girl at the grocery store asked me what pesto was (first off, it took me thirty minutes to find it) I graciously explained instead of returning her gaze and saying "It's pesto."
--I bought shoes made out of a moose. Everybody who's anybody in town has them. They keep yer feet real warm, dontcha know.
--The other day I saw a woman walk out of the used bookstore in town carrying a shotgun in each hand. She was not carrying a purse. Had that happened in New England I would have muddied up my Sevens by crawling under the nearest car and weeping, but I didn't bat an eye.
--I hardly even notice the four hour drive to Minneapolis. If I drive four hours south from Maine I'll pass through at least four states.
--When I do go to Minneapolis, however, I'm put off by having to pay $4 for a beer, since you can get a $1 pints of beer four nights a week in town. And frequently 50 cents.
--I hang out with Republicans. Kind of by necessity, but also by choice.

Don't worry though, New England. I'm still irrationally irritated by people who sprint across the street to hold the door for me if I'm carrying something and then think that's a basis for a conversation about the weather. The only reason strangers should cross the street to talk to each other is if they're both wearing Bean boots and haven't yet gushed to each other about how awesome they are.

Saturday Night

Yesterday was the first snow of the year; a fluffy six inches had already fallen by evening, and children flocked outside to celebrate by building snowmen and throwing snowballs at passing cars. The teenagers and twenty-somethings (few of them though there are) were also out in force celebrating the first snow in their own special way, which is packing a bunch of people into a car, drinking a case of beer, and spinning donuts on street corners. I spent the first half of the evening pushing a friend's car out of the ditch, covering up the evidence that they had utterly demolished two road signs on their way into said ditch, and helping them get their car open after they locked the keys inside while it was still running, still in the ditch, and still full of empties. I spent the second half of the evening learning the finer points of a power slide in a muffler-less 1993 Ford pickup, Hamm's in hand. Smell that? That's Americana.

Minnesota Nice Classifieds

Telling you, as nicely as possible, that you are an awful person.

--To the individual who took the package from the step of x Washington St on Friday Sept 10 between 2:21, and 4:00PM it is no doubt of little value to you, however it won't be replaceable anytime soon. My daughter has fought Cancer for 16 of her 19 years, This was something to make her life a little better. Please consider returning it.

--STOLEN FROM MY HOME at x Sheridan St Weds: small grey cloth drawstring bag containing wedding ring set in shape of round flower with diamond leaves, pearl necklace and pierced pearl earring and my DECEASED mothers Opal earrings.If you know who took these, please contact the Ely PD or me at ---_----.