New Year’s is one of those holidays where you can find yourself in a roomful of friendly strangers. In recent years, though, we’ve come to view it more like Thanksgiving—it’s so much more fun to be with people you know and love. Well, Debbie Duncan certainly qualifies. She’s one of the Twin Cities’ most beloved jazz artists, and we can’t think of a more suave New Year’s party than hanging at the Dakota. In with the new, too: Cuban pianist Nachito Herrera, who emigrated to the Twin Cities last year, shares the chores. Herrera didn’t waste any time setting up shop at Bandana Square—his recent and acclaimed debut album was recorded live at the St. Paul bastion of beat. If hot and cool jazz doesn’t bake your New Year’s brownie, perhaps you’ll want to make twang your thang, over at the Turf Club’s third annual bash with alt-country locals Accident Clearing-house. Last year’s was so well-attended we had to wait half an hour in the freezing cold to get in—and it was worth it. Dakota: (651) 642-1442, www.dakotacooks.com; Turf Club: (651) 647-0486, www.turfclub.net
Author: rakemag
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New Year’s Eve: Bremer Capital Holiday
If you want a wild bash with the lampshade-wearing and the drinking-champagne-out-of-a-shoe, look elsewhere. (Above, maybe.) For one thing, this civic cavalcade, formerly Capital New Year, is being held three days early. (The official auld lang syneing falls inconveniently on a Tuesday, and gosh, that’s a weeknight—though if you have to work Wednesday, you should fire your boss.) For another thing, the big fireworks finale takes place at 10 p.m. All this is perfect, however, if you’re in charge of some short people. (Kids, we mean. Verne Troyer can hit the bars if he feels like it.) Lest ye think we think it’s a snoozefest, know that there are dozens of performers on eight stages from blues belter Mick Sterling to the Flanagan’s Wake improv comedy troupe. If you can’t find something you like, you’re not trying. www.capitalholiday.org
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New Year’s Eve: Minneapolis Park & Recreation Board
Here’s a kid-friendly (not too late into the night) way to celebrate the New Year on the actual holiday, on the west side of the Mississippi. Well, actually right in the Mississippi. The Minneapolis Park and Recreation Board is pitching their tent on Nicollet Island. Skating, skiing, sledding, hayrides, and more are the order of the afternoon—and there’ll be indoor activities in the pavilion if it’s unreasonably cold (or hot, we suppose). It all wraps up at the perfectly reasonable hour of 9 p.m. Fireworks at 8:30. www.minneapolisparks.org
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Uncle Franky’s
Close readers of this magazine know how we are obsessed with the Chicago-style hot dog. We’re pleased to report that The Wienery and Joey D’s have been joined by a serious contender in this life-sustaining work—and in the heart of sausage country, Nordeast! Uncle Franky’s is the real deal, working from the foundation of an authentic Vienna Beef dog, all the way up to the crucial celery salt. Several early sorties gave evidence that Franky’s minions were overloading the Chipico relish (that Day-Glo green stuff you learn to love), but we’re gratified to note that they’ve since adjusted the mix to allow the sport peppers and onions a little territory on the tongue. Even if you’re not partial to the Chicago dog, Franky’s serves a mean Manhattan chili dog, hamburgers, and—get this—an all-you-can-eat deal ($10 will set you up with your own wiener-eating contest). Maybe best of all, the French fries. We’ve never seen ’em like this—sort of the equivalent of ruffled potato chips, which lends more surface area to the fryer, and makes for a crispy snap. In other words, the fries snap just the way the hot dogs do, giving your whole lunch a kind of heel-click-in-the-air sensibility. A fiver plus change will get you a Chicago dog, fries, and a soda. Uncle Franky’s, 728 Broadway Ave. N.E.
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Genius Lessons
THE RAKE: What is the scoop you’re most proud of?
Sid Hartman: The two biggest ones were about Ara Parseghian and Bud Grant. In 1975 I got the scoop that Parseghian was leaving as football coach of Notre Dame and that he would be replaced by Dan Devine. And in 1983 I reported first that Bud Grant was stepping down as the coach of the Vikings.
THE RAKE: What about non-sports scoops?
Sid: Well, there have been a lot. I helped the Star Tribune get the names of the finalists for the job of president of the U of M a couple of times. I do know a lot of people in town, and when you get to know a lot of people you hear a lot of stuff.
THE RAKE: If you get a good scoop, but it means losing a friend, what do you do?
Sid: I’d print the scoop, if it’s accurate, even if it meant upsetting a friend. If the friend knows it’s accurate, they might be mad for a short period. Bud Grant was probably my closest friend, and he used to get upset with me all the time. When cut-down day came at the Vikings training camp, I had friends in the NFL with the waiver list of who was going to be let go, and I’d print the names. Bud would get upset, because he hadn’t told the players yet. But my loyalties are with the Star Tribune and with WCCO Radio. I’m paid to do a job and that’s the number-one concern for me.
When you write something that’s a criticism or a rip, if it’s accurate, there’s no problem. They’ll get mad for a week or two. But here’s the thing: If you write something that’s going to upset some athlete or coach, be sure you show up the next day and face them. The biggest mistake these writers make is that they hide for a couple of weeks and it hangs out there and gets worse. If you face the guy, he’ll be pissed off, but if you show them that you’re willing to take the heat, they’ll respect you. I go out of my way to do that, I’m there the next day. I don’t rip that much, but I’ll do it if it’s right.
THE RAKE: Who is the greatest athlete to ever play on a Minnesota team?
Sid: There have been so many of them. Bud Grant may have been the greatest athlete that the U of M ever had. He was a starter in all three major sports. Dave Winfield would be up there, too. They’re both great, great athletes. On the pro side, well, I think Kevin Garnett rates at the top. He and Kobe Bryant [of the Los Angeles Lakers] really stand out, in that they have been the most successful players to go right from high school to the NBA.
THE RAKE: Will you ever retire?
Sid: I’ll never forget when I was in third grade. I had a teacher, Mrs. Nettleton. One of the kids in our class was always looking at the clock. She said, “I hope when you boys and girls grow up, you get jobs that you like enough where you don’t have to be looking at the clock all day.” And that’s exactly what I’ve got. I love the relationships I have with people.
My job is all an adventure. I contact every beat every day. How many people do you think want my job? I’m the luckiest guy in the world.THE RAKE: Could anyone today take the same path to success that you did?
Sid: I never went to college. If I went and tried to get my job today, they’d laugh at me. I was delivering papers for the old Minneapolis Times and working in their sports department at the same time when I was 17 years old. You could never do anything like that now. My friend gave me a job delivering papers to newsstands when I was a teenager. Before that I was selling newspaper on the street corners, starting when I was 8 or 9 years old. You were supposed to be 12 years old to sell papers to people, and this guy, Nathaniel Johnson, chased me all the time to get me to stop. He caught me when I was 10, but he left me alone and let me sell the papers, because he said anyone who worked that hard should be allowed to do it. After that we became lifelong friends. At one time, I sold Sunday papers at Fifth and Hennepin, starting at 7 p.m. and working through to 3 a.m. [The Minneapolis Times was an evening newspaper—Eds.] I worked that corner because that’s where the streetcars would line up, leaving every hour at 1, 2, and 3 in the morning. It would be 15, 20 below zero, and I’d ride my bike home to 525 North Humboldt Avenue after I was through.
THE RAKE: Do you still travel to away games?
Sid: I don’t do much traveling anymore. I’ll go if I can go to the game in the morning, and then come back, maybe with the team, in the same day. I didn’t make a single Vikings or Gophers road trip this year. That was a first. I’m sick of all that travel. It’s a joke. You have to wait around in airports forever. Why should I do that, if I can watch the game on TV and then call the coach and the players afterwards? I’ve got all their numbers.
THE RAKE: You’ve done radio and newspapers. How come you never got into TV reporting?
Sid: I was never that interested. TV’s just a pain in the rear end. It’s not the reporting that’s the problem, the problem is they only get about three minutes on sports. They’ve got to do the weather for about ten. You don’t get the chance to really cover sports on TV.
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No Gophers in South Dakota!
What is this we Dakotans hear about you folks wanting to move your football team to South Dakota [“Gopher Football: New Stadium or We’re Moving to Yankton!”, The Rake’s Progress, October]? Don’t we have a say in this? We don’t want your team. You may be having a good season but it will probably be followed by probation and embarrassment. Not only that, but you’d probably send the Vikings along with them. Why not think about a new home in Canada and leave us alone?
Barry Hoover, Sioux Falls
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Minnesota Landscape Rocks
The idea that other regions of the country contain more grandiose beauty per acre than does Minnesota is hardly to be disputed [Good Intentions, October], but the sublime vision lauded in the review of the Minneapolis Institute of Art’s show is also distorted and pretentious. As a landscape artist who’s chosen to live here precisely because the beauty of the upper Mississippi takes a little more soulful inspection and reflection than does the Grand Canyon, I’d remind everyone that nature’s beauty is universal. The subtle Taoist plain can be as thrilling as a ruined mountain top. Not only has Minnesota inspired its own bouquet of native impressionists like Alex Fournier and Seth Eastman, natural realists, but the work of our contemporary painter Mike Lynch stands beside the finest work anywhere in the nation. Like unseen poetry, there’s always an aesthetic pay-off if you’re calm enough to really appreciate it.
Michael McKenzie, Minneapolis
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Smoked Out
I’m with you: The smoke has got to go [Good Intentions, November]. My deep disgust for breathing other people’s poisonous crap, not to mention the stinging eyes, stinky clothes, achy head, and nauseous stomach that result from the poison keeps me from enjoying a multitude of otherwise fabulous venues here in the Cities and I’m sick of it. Less than 25 percent of Minnesotans smoke and yet 100 percent of us have to put up with the effects of such a nasty, disgusting, and lethal habit. I don’t give a crap about their “presumed” civil right to kill themselves in public. What about my right to breathe clean air in public? What about my right not to die from the long-term effects of second-hand smoke? What about my right to enjoy what I probably paid damn good money to see or listen to, without interference? I’m a native Californian who very much enjoyed the benefits of smoke-free entertainment venues. I loved going out and spending money at these places. But no more. Since I moved here, I have earned some serious mileage on my credit card at video and music stores. And since the powers that be obviously have not caught on to the fact that business can only become more profitable by going smoke-free, I’m sending them the only message I know. I’m keeping my money for myself and Mr. Video. Given this miserable state of affairs, I find it ironic that recently the nonprofit United Health Foundation said Minnesota is the second healthiest state in the nation. The ranking is based on several measures, including infant mortality, uninsured rates, violent crime, smoking, premature death, and children in poverty. It was ranked number one last year. The reason it slipped is doubly ironic: Smoking rates went up from 19 percent to 22 percent. Maybe one day all the non-smoking folks will pause and ask themselves why this is inequity being allowed to continue. And maybe that day something will be done. In the meantime, it’s not looking good for Minnesota, and my DVD player continues to get more use than I care for, but what are my alternatives? I want to go out and play again, before I’m too old to care. Optimistically, our voices will be heard and something will be done. Realistically, I’m not holding my breath.
Dianne Rowe, Minneapolis
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Simple Pleasures: Human Flesh
I enjoyed your November 2002 issue very much, especially the piece regarding Supervalu’s stock collapse and subsequent local media (under)attention [“Superdevalued,” November]. How-ever, I must admit that my favorite part of the magazine was a bit more obscure. One of your contributing editors, responding to the question on “Thanksgiving side dishes we avoid,” offered “Long pig” as his answer [Masthead, November]. Hilarious!
Bob Clyborne, Deephaven
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The Myth of Transparency
Adam Minter’s piece on Supervalu was very interesting and dramatic, and it got me talking with my broker. There doesn’t really seem to be a way out of this paradox: If investors get more information, they sell in a panic. If they don’t get the information they want, they still sell in a panic. It’s as if the whole context of a panicky marketplace is beyond the control of any particular company in any particular set of circumstances. You certainly cannot blame Supervalu for trying to control the response of the marketplace. From their point of view, it’s the horns of a terrible dilemma. It would be unethical, and so much worse in the long run, to hide any accounting error like this. On the other hand, why make it seem like a big deal by giving every sordid little detail to a public that’s already nerve-jangled about it? There is no such thing as information free of interpretation. The myth of transparency is that the marketplace will respond rationally, given all the information. But there is nothing obviously true or false about, say, an earnings statement. It means nothing until someone interprets the information. Or, to be more accurate, until the marketplace interprets the information. And in the current climate, that almost always means sell. Sell as fast as you can!
Doug Whalen, River Falls