Crisp Halloween in Powderhorn

There are many days where I am terribly content to be in Mankato.  In Mankato, I look at my calendar and find runs of hours where I have nothing to do but get down with my own self (in healthy, professionally responsible ways).  Sometimes, though, I miss my hood.  Powderhorn does feel like home.  In Mankato, in a bar I visited with colleagues, a young man, in the bathroom, suggested he didn’t like my glasses, because, as he said, they’re weird.  I nodded, thanking him for his input. Later, he pointed at me and discussed with his friends.  I did take some delight in this — I’m an old man and don’t worry about such things.  I certainly don’t go out of my way to look interesting or uninteresting.  I just don’t.  That someone might find my dress weird makes me laugh.

Sunday, in Powderhorn, I realized that I look like a Republican, relatively speaking.  I felt like Mitt Romney (except not as good looking).  That’s how far back down the “interesting” scale I am.

Imagine some big glasses on all of them

The shave-headed, tattooed and be-bearded surrounded me.  They read about Che Guevara and conjectured about Lula’s succesor.  I recorded Andy Sturdevant reading a story about a barber for my new KMSU radio show, Tales from the Poor House.  The story hinged on dangerous barbering and the loss of blue barbicide.  I drank some good coffee.  The beautiful late October sun beat down on my head, on Andy’s head, causing him to squint…

Andy Squints

And, I thought… Powderhorn is an excellent place I do not want to lose.  Thankfully, Mankato and Minneapolis are close.  I am home in Minnesota.

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