Colleen Kruse My son Isaac and I were playing Scrabble at our dining room table one recent evening when the phone rang. As always, Isaac ran to answer it. He heard his sixteen-year-old sister’s voice on the other end of the line. She was calling from her father’s house in St. Paul. When he heard that she … Read more
One of my favorite ways to pass the time while standing in line at the grocery store is to analyze the contents of the carts of the people around me. I like the incongruity of it. Gazing up and down the lines, it’s not unusual to see a cart containing a sack of generic Froot … Read more
I was sorting through an old box of videotapes the other night and came across an unmarked VHS cassette with no case. I popped it in the VCR, hit play, and for the next half hour, marveled at the human animal’s capacity for selective memory. 1993. I was a barista in an espresso bar downtown. … Read more
We’ve hit an interesting point in the arc of TV storytelling. It’s almost completely self-referential. Like monks from those earlier Dark Ages, copying illuminated manuscripts over and over again, today’s Hollywood hacks are feeding internally until there is no discernable output or input of ideas. Only yeasty, subdividing molecules of “Cop,” “Hot Chick”/“Dopey Chick”/“Brainy Chick,” … Read more
There’s an arbor in my neighborhood that I drive past every day. Sturdy pre-fab construction, what looks to be bare, untreated wood. It catches my eye not because it’s beautiful, but because it is goofy. It’s the placement of the thing that gets me. It’s plopped a third of the way into the front yard … Read more
I like to drive through the neighborhoods I used to live in and check in with my history. Most recently, Uptown. The corner of 25th and Bryant, a stately duplex on a tree-lined block. The Uptown house rarely calls me. But something was in my head this day, something small, furry and insistent. Chewing through … Read more
So, I’m sitting at this casino bar outside of Carlton, Minnesota, last month, and this rather handsome gent rolls up alongside me and says, “Nice mustache-ride joke. Can I buy you a drink?” I’d just closed out the bill at the Black Bear Casino’s “Free Comedy Night Thursdays.” Now, I don’t mean to brag, but … Read more
My dad is tougher than your dad. Yep. I speak the truth, so don’t even try to talk to me about it. My dad is taller than your dad, he’s funnier, and cooler, and you know what? He’s smarter, too. There’s proof. Uh huh, shut up there is! My dad once swam across White Bear … Read more
Today you are nothing unless you have flawless, supple skin. Lustrous, thick, bouncy hair. Icy white teeth and breath so fresh it cryogenically freezes your date to the couch. (Take that, Fear-of-Calling-Back Man!) Never mind that things are even worse for women. As more and more straight guys get “queer eye-tized,” I fear that it … Read more
March 17th, 8:45 p.m., St. Patrick’s Day. With a name like Colleen, there’s no way in hell I’m going anywhere today. I used to work at Mickey’s Diner right in downtown St. Paul. I’ve seen enough green vomit to qualify me as an exorcist. So… maybe I’ll read the paper. Business section headline. General Mills … Read more