In Minneapolis, there is an arcane system of plowing snow that I will not even attempt to explain. (I come from New York and Boston where the system for removing snow from the city streets makes perfect sense.) The point is, if you mess up they tow your car to a sort of automotive dungeon and it costs a lot of money to get it back.

So, when the snow flakes start flying RT starts rhyming, as a public service. Like this:

On snow emergency routes:
Here’s your motto
By nine o’clock tonight
Please move your auto

You ain’t so groovy
You ain’t no playa
If you can’t move your car
Without a poem from da Maya

The mayor will be replaced in January, but we are hoping he will stay on as Poet Laureate of the City of Lakes.

The reason I did this should be obvious to anyone following the Minneapolis Mayoral race. At present there are 35 candidates running for mayor. This includes a number of individuals who currently or have held public office in the area, or are otherwise politically involved, and are clearly serious candidates. It also includes a number of individuals whom it is hard to take seriously, such as the person who named himself after a well known movie pirate and one person running under the “Last Minneapolis Mayor” ticket. (I’m not sure if that candidate expect to be the last mayor of Minneapolis, or is making a statement that we’d like to keep the last mayor in office.) Many other candidates, perhaps most, are serious candidates (though often, it seems, with very narrow agendas). The problem is, there is no such thing as a serious candidate if the following two things are true: 1) There are dozens of candidates; and 2) a particular voter is not savvy to the local politics and is thus faced with a huge list of seemingly random names among which it is expected that the voter makes an informed choice.

One can get mad at individual voters for not paying enough attention to be able to vote responsibly in the election for their own mayor. But one can absolutely not expect a citizen to have a cue as to what to do when faced with this absurdly long list. Also given the large number of candidness and the fact that Minneapolis has a ranked-vote system, it is quite possible that a candidate with a funny name (such as the afore mentioned pirate) would be added as third choice by a lot of voters just for fun. And then get elected. Such a thing would not really be democracy in action. It would be something else.

I don’t vote in this election; I live in a different city. But I hold Minneapolis to be a “third home town” because my time spent living in that city is important to me. Also, Minneapolis is a big important city in my larger community. So that’s one reason I’m doing this. The other reason is that Julia just moved to the city and this is her first year ever being able to vote. That made me think of all the other first-time voters in the city, and the possible cynical (and very appropriately so) they may develop when approached with the problem of ranked voting (which is already a complication, though not much of one) and a multi-page ballot (I assume) because so many people simply signed up to be mayor.

The current situation with the Minneapolis mayor race is a joke. Minneapolis, however, is not a joke. It is a wonderful and important city. Clearly, the process has failed and needs to be revised.

My noting that the process has failed, by the way, is not a negative comment on the endorsement system itself. I do have some negative comments on that, but I am not dismayed that the DFL caucus system did not produce a candidate. That actually happens every time there is an open seat for Mayor, it seems. For what it is worth, I do have a few reform suggestions for the caucus. First, make the caucus about the caucus, not about the “very important business” of the party. A typical caucus involves hours of messing around with party business followed by the endorsement of a candidate, and if there is not enough time for that, or everyone is exhausted, that part is shortened. It should be the other way around. The caucus should involve ONLY the endorsement, and a separate meeting held later (or earlier) should address party business. Second, the mayor race appears to have no primary step. There should be one, perhaps. That might involve a third reform, that is, making the race partisan, which it currently is not. I have no useful opinion on whether or not that should be changed.

In any event, here is my list. This is, to reiterate, a list of candidates that people I trust, who are generally politically progressive Democrats, can live with. There is actually quite a bit of political diversity on this list. It happens to include the list I myself would have made.

A Short List of Candidates for Mayor of Minneapolis:

A Short List of Candidates for Mayor of Minneapolis:

• Betsy Hodges
• Bob Fine
• Don Samuels
• Jackie Cherryholmes
• Jeffrey Wagner
• Mark Andrew

Photo Credit: Sri Dhanush via Compfight cc

It turns out that Greek restaurants in Minneapolis are to the citizens of this area what operating systems (Windows vs Mac), text editors (emacs vs vi), and political candidates are to computer users and activists. You’ve got one you love, and the rest suck. Although I’ve lived here long enough to be mistaken at times for a native, this particular form of Greek love/hate is not one I’ve assimilated. I’ve been to all three of these restaurants a number of times, and in my view, they each have their strengths and weaknesses. Mostly strengths, actually. Even my friend Lizzie, who normally has a solidly rational view of the world, has a somewhat all or nothing view of the Greek Cuisine in the city. (The fact that she waitroned at one of these restaurants for about a year may be a factor in this case. I’m not sure.)

I used to live around the corner from Christos, and as an Eat Street joint, it gains extra Neighborhood Brownie Points for many people, including me. Eat Street is a section of Nicollet Avenue in Minneapolis along which a large number of mostly “ethnic” restaurants and grocery stores have sprung up with encouragement and help from the local neighborhood associations and the broader business community, as an effort in socially progressive mixed use development. The very existence of a restaurant on this street is a political statement, a statement of solidarity among thoughtful people trying to make a positive difference in a world of selfish greed.

I’ve had interesting and generally very good experiences at the other two Greek restaurants as well. Memorable experiences. At Salonica, I had dinner with a friend who chose that moment to tell me all about his new inflatable penile insert, and about the joke he played on the nurse in the hospital after the surgery. (Which involved some special sound effects and a balloon, but I’m not going there right now.) One of my first dinners out with Amanda was at It’s Greek to Me, so I have special fond memories of that place as well, although not as funny. (Actually, we were trapped there for a couple of hours during a blizzard.)

Almost every meal I’ve had at Christos was with a large group, because it is the kind of place that handles large groups very well, and the most recent dinner was with a set of visiting relatives from my side of the family. Oddly and unexpectedly, we arrived at Christos to find another large group already seated, consisting of about a dozen of Amanda’s relatives, chowing down on moussaka, spanakopita, and tabouli. I know where these people live, and most of them had to drive past both of the other Greek restaurants to eat here. To Christos, which is the one that they like.

And this is where I encountered my first bona fide Sarah Palin convert.

This was a cousin who has always been active in liberal politics, especially related to GLBT issues, women’s rights and feminism. She supported Clinton during the last primaries. I remember seeing her early in the primary season, when she said, “Minnesota will be irrelevant.” (Oh, I should mention that she lives in a Rocky Mountain state.) “By the time the primaries get to Minnesota, it will be pretty much settled. Hillary will be the candidate.” And so on.

I myself supported Clinton over Obama in the first part of the primaries, but I was reasonably happy to shift into an Obama mode once the turnover happened. But you will recall that this turnover was not simple, easy or gentle in any way. There was a fairly long period of time, of several weeks, during which Obama supporters were inappropriately asserting that the race was over for Clinton, and there were Clinton supporters who were inappropriately asserting that the Obama camp was anti-women because they wanted to claim victory. Neither side was willing to refer to history or basic political realities as a guide to what was happening or as a guide to how one might react to what was happening. Indeed, it turns out that Obama was a sufficiently powerful candidate to overcome this period of infighting and Clinton a sufficiently strong person and powerful politician to join the power structure in the White House as number two or three most powerful official (depending) on the planet. But during those weeks including and following Super Tuesday, things were a bit tense.

So we ordered lunch, and as we were eating various Greekey food items and making plans for a museum visit later in the day, Cousin C. came over and we were for some reason talking politics. This was during the interim between the election and the inauguration, and as far as I knew, most of the deeply disappointed Clinton supporters had made peace with the reality of Obama winning the primary, and in many cases joined Obama’s campaign efforts and were now pretty happy that he had won the general. Cousin C., however, a liberal, Democratic, lesbian, activist, feminist living in a progressive liberal enclave in a Rocky Mountain state, was telling me that the Democrats had treated Sarah Palin badly and unfairly because she was a woman, that Bill Ayers and Barack Obama were in bed with each other, and this makes Obama a terrorist, and that Ayers should be in jail now and forever for what he did to this country, and Sarah Palin was the cat’s pajamas, and so on and so forth.

I kept my mouth shut. I like Cousin C. quite a bit, and I figured she’d need to vent, apparently, for a few more months and I would just let it pass. My sister did not keep her mouth shut, and a low-level shouting match ensued. Gentle, less-political cousins were embarrassed and started apologizing for each other, and of course, Cousin C.’s children were mortified, but those of us more political waved them off. This argument was not a bad thing but, rather, an airing of feelings that probably had to happen. An outsider might have been shocked—people at all of the tables in the restaurant had stopped eating and had turned to watch. But this was East Street in the Whittier Neighborhood of Minneapolis. This was what happens here. People come from all over the country to have Greek Food and shout at each other about politics.

My contribution to the discussion was small. I merely noted during a lull that I went to Bill Ayers’ school when I was a kid, and we never learned any terroristic methodology or anything. My snark was duly ignored by the primary combatants. Something was said about Prop. 8 in California (whence my sister), and I think that was a bit poignant. The gay community and the African American community need to work out some important details here.

The politics are real. These distinctions, between candidates and positions, are important. Progressive communities need to get better organized. And it really is true that Linux Rocks, Windows Sucks, and emacs roolz.

But the big three among the Greek food establishments in Minneapolis are all good, even if different. At the very least, you should try them all before you decide. This is one case where you should not listen to the locals.

And as we got closer, we saw that the Valet Parking sign had a big arrow on it pointing down the street. So we drove slowly down the busy downtown street, looking for somebody or something resembling a valet. Then, we saw a second sign, similar to the first. It said “Valet Parking” and it had a big arrow pointing up a drive heading into a parking ramp. So, we drove up the drive and saw another sign that said “Valet Parking: Drive through the doors into the parking ramp.”

So we drove through the doors, which opened automatically though slowly, into the parking ramp. There, we saw yet another sign that said “Public not allowed beyond this point.”

Which leads me to a digression. Several months ago, Amanda and Julia and I went downtown to meet the In-Laws for dinner, and parked in a randomly chosen parking ramp. It was, as it turns out, this very ramp where Lizzie and I perplexedly sought our valet, but that time, a few months ago, we drove into the ramp and did not manage to notice the sign that said “Public not allowed beyond this point.” We just drove in and parked. Later, when it came time to leave, we noticed as we headed for our car that all the other people in the lot were mainly driving at a very high rates of speed, and backwards as often as forwards. Valets. They were all valets, and we had driven, by accident, into the local valet-only parking lot. We had to talk our way out of that one. But, as I say, I digress.

Anyway, I stopped the car and Lizzie and I got out. I asked the man who came over how this worked.

“Take this,” he said, handing me a standard issue parking lot ticket. “Get it validated.”

Oh. So this is how the valet parking works: You drive your car to the parking lot, get a standard issue parking stub, get that validated at the restaurant in which you eat, and then later, walk back to the parking lot for your car. I was pretty sure that what were doing was mostly “parking the car” and not very much like “valet parking” but I was still satisfied: The price was cheap and the ramp was only a short block from the restaurant.

So we went to the restaurant, Thom Pham’s Wondrous Azian Kitchen, and had a lovely meal. This is the reincarnation of Azia, a restaurant I’ve written about before. You could see the old Azia in the new Wondrous Kitchen, in the layout, the decor, the menu, the staff, and to some extent, the wine list. I didn’t see Thom, but the way the place is broken into small rooms he may well have been there somewhere. Lizzie, who, sadly, really has given up eating meat (dashing my hopes for sushi this evening) had the Pad Thai, and I had the Monk Fish. Pinot Noir went well with both (monk is a rather beefy fish, for a fish). We had not seen each other in far, far too long so the conversation was a matter of catching up, but we were also celebrating Lizzie’s birthday and the bittersweet end of her job of the last couple of years, as she shifts her focus more towards her studies. Lizzie is a person whom if I don’t see for a while, I don’t feel good. And towards the end of the meal I was feeling nicely recharged. And good.

So off we went into the snow flurries, down the street with our validated parking ticket in hand. We entered the ramp and I handed the ticket to the man, with some currency. He gave me my change which I kept in my hand while he walked the 30 feet to my car, got in, and in the course of less than two seconds drove it all the way from the nearest possible parking spot to where we stood, while we gazed on in amazement. When he got out of the car, I handed him the change (still in my hand), we got in, and off we went, squeezing through the slowly opening door through which we had previously driven.

I really had no idea that there was such a fine line between valet parking and regular parking, that the two kinds of parking were not really distinct, that this gray area between the two existed. No idea. Well, now I know.

¹Not her real name, but she is the real thing.
²“Ramp” is Twin Cities for elevated parking lot.

It turns out that Greek restaurants in Minneapolis are to the citizens of this area what operating systems and political candidates are to computer users and activists. You’ve got one you love, and the rest suck. Although I’ve lived here long enough to be mistaken at times for a native, this particular form of Greek love/hate is not one I’ve assimilated. I’ve been to all three of these restaurants a number of times, and in my view, they each have their strengths and weaknesses. Mostly strengths, actually. Even my friend Lizzie, who normally has a solidly rational view of the world, has a somewhat all or nothing view of the Greek Cuisine in the city. (The fact that she served at one of these restaurants for about a year may be a factor in this case. I’m not sure.)

…. read the rest here.