I fell in love with St. Paul.
Hard.
Like steel hard.
And concrete.
And brick.
That kind of hard.
I'd never had an opportunity to stay in someone's home in a downtown, urban area.
I didn't know what to expect.
Everything about living anywhere urban I'd learned from Sex In The City.
And Law and Order.
Oh, and Castle.
Apparently, those aren't real.
Come to think of it, I guess Real Word: New York doesn't count, either.
Damn.
And that probably means Las Vegas doesn't count, either.
Double damn.
'Good thing there's Lowertown, St. Paul, Minnesota.
It was everything I imagined a vibrant downtown to be.
But with that Midwest flavor I've come to identify so closely with.
Troy & Chanda (HI, TROY! HI, CHANDA!) live on the 8th floor of a gorgeous building.
They have a giant terrace with sweeping views of Mears Park below and the mighty Mississippi River a few blocks away.
I shot so many photos that first day, my head is still spinning from everything I tried to take in.
And then night fell.
When Chanda and the kids went to bed, Troy and I were going to work.
When Troy fell asleep on (clearly in preparation for our tasks at hand), I stepped onto the terrace.
What I saw took my breath away.
It was like nothing I'd ever seen before.
Unless you're watching Ghostbusters.
Or Batman.
Of all the things I want to remember from that visit, it's that glow.
The glow of life.
Of humanity.
Of something bigger, badder and greater than myself.
Amen.
Hard.
Like steel hard.
And concrete.
And brick.
That kind of hard.
I'd never had an opportunity to stay in someone's home in a downtown, urban area.
I didn't know what to expect.
Everything about living anywhere urban I'd learned from Sex In The City.
And Law and Order.
Oh, and Castle.
Apparently, those aren't real.
Come to think of it, I guess Real Word: New York doesn't count, either.
Damn.
And that probably means Las Vegas doesn't count, either.
Double damn.
'Good thing there's Lowertown, St. Paul, Minnesota.
It was everything I imagined a vibrant downtown to be.
But with that Midwest flavor I've come to identify so closely with.
Troy & Chanda (HI, TROY! HI, CHANDA!) live on the 8th floor of a gorgeous building.
They have a giant terrace with sweeping views of Mears Park below and the mighty Mississippi River a few blocks away.
I shot so many photos that first day, my head is still spinning from everything I tried to take in.
And then night fell.
When Chanda and the kids went to bed, Troy and I were going to work.
When Troy fell asleep on (clearly in preparation for our tasks at hand), I stepped onto the terrace.
What I saw took my breath away.
It was like nothing I'd ever seen before.
When you grow up in rural Arizona, you just don't get views like this.
Unless you're watching Ghostbusters.
Or Batman.
Of all the things I want to remember from that visit, it's that glow.
The glow of life.
Of humanity.
Of something bigger, badder and greater than myself.
Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment