Todd J. Smith In the last couple of years, the Twin Cities has gained a reputation as a hipster Mecca; the chic architecture (new Guthrie, Walker, and Central Library) has garnished international praise, the rocking music scene is hotter than ever with both indie and mainstream bands (Atmosphere on Conan! The Hold Steady opens for The Rolling Stones!), … Read more
My squat little body houses a record number of physical calamities. If you have read my latest published story, "Pharma Chameleon," (in the March issue of The Rake) you already know that I’m pretty much a bubble boy. My latest impediment is a Pterigium (kind of like a nasty veiny weed) on my right eye. … Read more
My son’s birthday party began with me looking like a giant dumbass. Big shocker there. We were in the jubilant 11:15 a.m. Backyardigans parade at the newly remodeled Nick Jr. amusement park in the center of the Mall of America. I was holding the foamy oversized hand of a teenage actor who was dressed as … Read more
When I’m not at home taking care of my son, I work as a laborer at a Twin Cities garden center. Compared to a professional/corporate office job, things work a little differently in the manual labor world: at any given moment during my shift, I can announce to the entire crew that I have an … Read more
Inside our marriage, my wife has arranged a division of labor. She’s a (marital) union teamster when it comes to tasks that I can and cannot do. Specifically, there are jobs around the house that are “Daddy Jobs” and others that are “Mommy Jobs.” As the man of the Smith Family House, these are the … Read more
During a recent trip to Costco, a customer walked past me with 25 cases of Diet Coke in their wagon. Even by Costco standards that seemed a wee bit gluttonous. But who was I to judge? I was there to buy a pork loin the size of an anaconda. At the end of my shopping … Read more
When it come to computers, I’m a full blown idiot. As a stay-at-home dad, my day usually involves hooting like an orangutan and tending to my son’s poopy pants—not exactly a George Clooney lifestyle. But when my ancient candy colored iMac recently barked and hissed at me when I tried to open a simple email, … Read more
I have it all, from common afflictions (rashes, allergies, Sasquatch-like body hair) to those seldom mentioned in polite company (other types of rashes, irritable bowels, acid reflux, nighttime hog snore) to the just plain gross (dog breath, compacted sinuses). Thanks to modern medicine, I am generally successful in masking or suppressing the worst symptoms of … Read more
In the looks department, I’ve been compared to the dwarf from The Lord of the Rings with a big afro—not exactly George Clooney. Only adding to these charms is the fact that I have Crohn’s disease and a catalog of allergies. And yet, I am by far the luckiest man alive because I’m married to … Read more
I sat in a lawn chair in the middle of frozen Lake Nokomis, nibbling on chicken kabobs and sipping a tequila slushy, thinking, How serious can this pond-hockey thing be? A minute after the puck dropped in my first game, I immediately regretted my warm-up smorgasbord. This pond-hockey thing was apparently very serious. We were … Read more