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Prince's Death, 2016-2026
Like many Catholic ladies of a certain age, my late Aunt Nancy, bless her soul, was obsessed with funerals and cemeteries. She called me every year on the anniversary of my father’s death, which, while a nice gesture, struck me as a touch morbid. I feel the same way about Minneapolis every time April 21 rolls around.
Ten years ago today, I was racing from downtown Minneapolis to Chanhassen and back, reporting on the scene for Rolling Stone. I recall one woman telling me a convoluted story, woven Keyser Soze-like from the lyrics to “Raspberry Beret,” about how Prince wrote the song for and about her. It was an emotional, exhausting day unlike any other, and before I went to bed I poured all my thoughts about Prince and my adopted hometown into an essay for Pitchfork.
The circumstances of Prince’s death were sudden and shocking. It’s a “where were you when you heard?” moment, and a “what did you do next?” moment as well. But maybe it’s time we all move on—not from Prince, of course, but from Prince’s death. Ten years is long enough.
Why choose to remember feeling sad about when we learned that Prince died when we can choose to remember all the ways he made us feel when he was alive? Uncomfortable, like when I heard “When Doves Cry” on the car radio while driving with my parents—a regular occurrence in 1984. Annoyed, like when I heard the Kirstie Alley interludes on the Love Symbol album. Stunned and amused and aroused and awestruck and inspired to get down, like the first time I heard “Little Red Corvette” or “Kiss” or “U Got the Look” or “Black Sweat” or…
It's just the way of things that troublemakers become honored elders. Still, there’s something off about the municipal reverence for so supremely irreverent an artist. It has been 10 years since we first sang along together en tearful masse to “Purple Rain”; now we do so at every Prince-related gathering and whenever a touring act wants to impress us. I know, one person’s cliché is another’s ritual, but isn't there another way we can honor the composer of “Head” and "Jack U Off"?
A Good Idea for Downtown Minneapolis?
Actually, a few of them, maybe? But let’s start with the most promising: The city is considering building an indoor playground so parents don’t have to schlep to Eagan or Edina in the winter months to find places for their children to exhaust themselves. This reaction I’m seeing from the kiddie-laden is twofold: “Yes!” and also “Please don’t fuck this up!” As a sad, childless old man, I have nothing much to say about the topic, but of course the execution is key. If you’ve got something to say, sound off on the Downtown Family Experience Survey.
Does downtown need another hotel? I don’t know, I live here and sleep in my own bedroom. But it does need to repurpose certain unused buildings, and among them is 20 Washington—you know, the one near the library with those fancy, fluted columns. Caitlin Anderson of the Business Journal reports that CDT Realty Corp. has plans to turn the distinctive building into a 165-room hotel by summer 2028. Better that than another golf-themed bar, I guess.
And finally, as Owawni moves into the Guthrie, a new Afro-Caribbean joint will open in the evacuated space at the Water Works Pavilion in the Mill District. Dubbing itself a "Bistronomie," Arch and River is run by the husband-and-wife team behind the Alliance Française pastry shop B'beri Desserts. It will be a bit more casual and a lot less expensive than Owamni.
C Is for Carleton
Let’s consider it a good sign that national coverage about Minnesota is no longer about defrauded public services or a violent federal occupation and back to scenes of how quaint and charmingly Midwestern we are. Case in point: This Times feature about Carleton College’s Cookie House, a place where students and locals can show up any time and find a fully stocked pantry for baking.
The Northfield building is officially known as the Dacie Moses House, after a former resident who invited students in and provided them with treats. The Cookie House continues on in Ms. Moses’s spirit. There are lots of great, wholesome photos illustrating this story, along with notable quotes like, “Your pie can smell fear.”
Northeast Passage
Reading Racket, a publication that is perhaps overly staffed by writers who live below Lake Street, you could get the impression that clashes over street redesign are purely a south Minneapolis matter. But as Mark Peterson writes in the Northeaster, there’s conflict a-brewin’ over the city’s proposed fixes in northeast Minneapolis—in particular over a three-block stretch of Quincy Street, from Broadway to 15th Avenue NE.
The brick-paved stretch of roadway is, as Peterson explains, noted for “its lack of curbs and conventional sidewalks.” The proposed city redesign would alter that. And some, including Josh Blanc, chair of the Northeast Minneapolis Arts District, are not happy with what they consider the city’s “car-centric” plans. The street’s council member, Michael Rainville, apparently agrees with the dissenters. Since this is quite literally not in my back yard, I will let the Northeasters have it out.
Quincy Street, of course, is named for our first (but not our last!) nepo baby president, John Quincy Adams. Please enjoy this wonderfully disgusting clip from the Method Man/Redman comedy classic How High involving his corpse.
