Wednesday, May 14, 2014
Supper Club
In this part of the world, and especially in Wisconsin, there is something called a "Supper Club." It's a restaurant and bar, really (not a private club), but a certain type of restaurant and bar that is difficult to describe. It's usually out in the woods somewhere, it has beer, you can get there by snowmobile for much of the year, your waitress is often named "Shelly," and they have cottage cheese to die for. That's not much of a description, I know, but if you ask people from up here what a supper club is, they will probably shrug and say "You know… a supper club."
Places with a strong identity are like that. Minnesota is like that. Texas is like that. There's some kinds of things you just can't really explain objectively.
I found out today that some people I know here, who came to Minneapolis from Waco after I did, are moving back to Texas. It was odd to think of that. I do know that in the few years here, there were some things they saw and lived that can't really be described. Probably they won't try. How do you tell someone in Texas what Lake Harriet is? Yeah, it's a lake made by glaciers rather than by the Corps of Engineers, but there is something more ineffable than that… beyond description.
When I was in law school, I had a brilliant classmate named Ginger Levy who was from this area. I remember once asking her what it was like. She talked about the city, and then said "and Lake Harriet, you get up and walk around it, and it's…" Her voice trailed off to where I couldn't go. I always remembered that, and think of it now when on a bright clear morning I walk or bike around that lake, and know what that "…" means, because I can see it and feel it. Sometimes that is the only way. For truths and tragedies, sometimes there are no words.
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There were several of these places in and around St. Peter. The most interesting one was The Holiday House. I made some great memories there. Yeah, it is rather difficult to describe--great garlic toast, though.
Near where I grew up, there was a swamp that had been created by the glaciers. It had filled up over aeons with plant matter and a little earthen sediment. Became a bog. Great place to grow melons and other truck farm goodies. Bad place to try to build an interstate highway, because the bog could (and did) suck massive road machines under. And it was well north of the Mason-Dixon line.
# posted by 
: 6:35 AM
: 6:35 AM
I love places LIKE that!
Feeling the pressure of lacing them up for a game seven tonight
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Feeling the pressure of lacing them up for a game seven tonight
# posted by : 5:16 PM
: 5:16 PM << Home
