What a glorious day it was yesterday! Today, less so,
though still passable given I'm drawing breath. It all
reminds me of why I love Minneapols, the combination
of pain and pleasure that is so much a part of the
change of seasons here. Yesterday was that glorious
feeling one has when they stop pounding their head
against the wall if ever so briefly.

After meeting a friend for coffee at 50th and Xerxes
S. in the late afternoon I headed east on foot along
50th Street through the Lynnhurst neighborhood. It is
so different than where I usually walk on daily
errands.

A few things come to mind: It is definitely not a
walking street not in the way south Hennepin is even
though Hennepin is also a main commuter route. It's
like walking beside a highway with no barrier between
one and the traffic. The effects of the people's
action of last summer are long since forgotten.

Planes, Planes, Planes: a steady drone on top of the
traffic noise and exhaust fumes left me nauseous and
frazzled by the time I got to my next stop at Pan,
Dolce, Vino at 50th and Byrant to score some cash owed
me. Redirecting airplane freight traffic to Rochester
is not going to help matters that much. 

Everytime I think about the lack of foresight and
courage of the past generation of politicians in this
region I want to gather them together, stand 'em
against a wall handcuffed, and make them endure the
stress forever of incessant planes and traffic with
the explosions of pollutants that that come along with
them.

To think that in the past two decades only one new
major airport was constructed in this country and we
could not have been the second. Our Mayor made much of
her great connections in Washington and damn near
every elected pol in the urban core is a Democrat and
for the life of me all I can see we got was Clinton
Cops and money for a dubious start to a rail system.

The Codefor meting was still a ways off in time and
distance so it made sense to hop into Washburn Library
and check e-mail and chat withthe ladies at the info
desk. If Jan Feye-Stukas is reading, or anyone else
from Library Admin. they are still waiting for someone
to fix the building where a car drove through it last
winter.

We talked about the good neighborhood libraries and i
put in a plug for Wizard Marks whom both these womwn
knew. They were excited at someone who actually works
in the system being on the Board. I bemoaned the fact
that Sumner was closed on Saturdays and we joked at
how little new space would come out of the remodeling
of Linden Hills.

Heading through Windom along lyndale and then 58th
east to Nicollet I was reminded again of what a nice
neighborhood Windom is between the two main streets
that are its boundaries, or nearly so on the east.

Walking into the parking lot of the church where the
Codefor meeting and seeing all the cop cars I had the
feeling of walking into the lion's den. Try as I might
I never have felt real comfortable around the cops.
the authority thing. I'm inherently a wise guy and
cops don't like wise guys.

I know I am not like most of our city's population in
that regard and that was never more evident than at
the meeting. This was an enthusiastically supportive
group with some exceptions. One man from the 13th
spoke to his frustration that the police presence in
his neighborhood was non-existent. People from Stevens
Square neighborhood, one a Mr. Hanson who owns many
units of rental property in SS and loring park areas
was effusive in his praise tough he was concerned that
legislation at the capitol regarding tenants rights
would hamstring him in screening tenants.

I finally had a chance to meet Luther Krueger which
was a pleasure, shake the hand of Randy Johnson and
Chief Olson, and talk with the City Attorney and say
hello once again to Her Honor. I often disagree with a
few of the above but I'm less inclined to question
their motives than the tactics they may employ. 

I'm always reminded of the memorable line from 'COOL
HAND LUKE'; "What we have here is a failure to
communicate". Being an Irish-American Catholic, I'm
always waiting for the bullet, or a piano to land on
my head from a great height on a gloriously sunny day.

There was a noticeable absence of African-Americans in
the audience. I had hoped the meeting's proximity to
City Limits Apartments where there was so much turmoil
occurred last year would have brought out a greater
showing. It led me to wonder how the meeting was
publicized.

In general I wonder what it is that makes people want
to participate in these meetings. I'm this weirdo who
owns no property and has pretty much lost everything
I've ever owned through constant moves, so much so I
begin to think of myself as a priest having taken a
vow of poverty. I envy those people in the audience
who are concerned about their property and physical
well-being while I stand to make barely coherent
comments about fears that civil liberties are being
trampled upon in our haste to make the streets safe
and worry about liability exposure and the enormous
costs associated with police protection when I have
this undying belief that simple social justice issues
like equal employment oppportunity, livable wages,
fair priced and abundant housing and common decency
might achieve just as much at less cost.

Call me a dreamer

Tim Connolly
Ward 7


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