Minnesota: the Whimsy State

Recently I read a blog written by a guy who thinks every Minnesotan hates Fargo. Speaking as someone who was born, raised, and continues to live in Minnesota, I can assure you that’s just not true.

I absolutely loved that movie. So did many of my friends.

But it got me thinking. What are Minnesota’s major contributions to 20th- and 21st-century pop culture? Now, I’m not talking about literary types like Sinclair Lewis and F. Scott Fitzgerald. I’m thinking more along the lines of the Purple Dude, Peanuts, Joel and Ethan Coen, and a Prairie Home Companion.

That’s quite a disparity, there. (Ya do know what disparity means, doncha, Scotty?) But as diverse as they are, they have one thing in common: a certain, stubborn uniqueness. Garrison Keillor and Charles Shulz don’t go for knee-slapping, hit-you-over-the-head-with-it humor. Their approach is more wistful; melancholy, even.

The Coens’ perspective is decidedly skewed. I mean, c’mon, once you’ve done a chase scene that revolves around Huggies, there’s really no going back, is there?

And Prince? He’s just out there doing his own thing, by all appearances just for the joy of doing it. I’m not sure he cares if anyone else gets it or not.

The point I’m making is this: these people are Minnesota products. Each one dances to his own drum – sometimes literally. Their work can be downright whimsical at times.

In fact, that should be our new motto. Minnesota: the Whimsy State.

Embrace the cheese!

I’m a sucker for sci-fi. Have been all my life. Name a sci-fi television series or movie from the last 30 years or so and there’s a good chance I’ve seen it. Even stuff so awful that l could tell in grade school how bad it was. Somewhere along the way I learned to embrace the cheesy goodness.

I’m looking at you, Manimal. A series about a college professor who fights crime by turning into various animals? Gee, who could’ve foretold that failure? He was like the Wonder Twins’ long-lost brother, only without the matching purple jammies. I saw a rerun on SciFi a couple years ago; it was even worse than I remembered. I giggled all the way through it.

John Carpenter’s Vampires. One of the funniest movies I ever saw – although I don’t think it was meant to be a comedy. Sure, the dialogue sounded like it was generated by a computer and there was no character development to speak of. What really matters is it’s two hours of stupid, pointless violence and horrible special effects. Hey, if I feel the need to watch something about vampires that’s actually good, I can always bust out a little Buffy.

But by far the most idiotic (and fun) sci-fi cheese I’ve ever seen was a 1980 Italian-made movie released in the US under the name Superfuzz. Terence Hill plays a cop who gets superpowers after he’s exposed to this red stuff from a nuclear explosion. Basically he turns into Superman – except instead of kryptonite, his weakness is red.

Yes, red. The color red. When he sees something red, he loses all his powers. Eventually he beats the bad guys and marries his girlfriend. The “surprise ending” is so stupid it’s actually brilliant. And did I mention the cop’s sidekick is played by none other than Ernest Borgnine?

That alone should send you looking for a copy.

Please won’t someone think of the dandelions?

Recently I realized something. At some point during the six years I’ve been a home owner, dandelions became the enemy. Those cheery little sunburst puffs I took such delight in as a child have somehow morphed into this formidable foe I feel an irrational need to eliminate. Dandelions haven’t changed. Why has my perspective?

I have no issue with the wild violets that have also sprouted up in various spots. I think they’re pretty. And from a totally aesthetic point of view, the yellow of the dandelions against the purple of the violets actually looks pretty. And the dandelions aren’t really HURTING anything. It’s not like the grass minds their presence.

But day after day I find myself outside, garden spade in hand, digging up those little yellow buggers – preferably by the roots. Am I a dandelion bigot? If so, will weed huggers show up outside my house, picket signs in hand, protesting my unfair treatment of these helpless plants?

From a strictly Darwinist point of view, they’ve certainly shown impressive survival skills. Over the years I’ve poisoned them, uprooted them, and tried everything I can think of to create as dandelion-hostile an environment as possible. Yet year after year they keep coming back.

Maybe I should stop putting so much time and energy into eradicating all things dandelion from my yard. Give in to Mother Nature and concede the field, as it were. Stop trying to force an artificial ideal of pristine, perfectly groomed fields of emerald onto a more natural mixture of grass, flowers, and yes, even weeds.

Nah. Those suckers are goin’ DOWN.

Where Have All the Verbs Gone?

I’ve been wondering something for a while now. Exactly when did news anchors decide that verbs were a bad thing?

It hit me one day as I was watching a national news broadcast. The anchor would say things like “Up next: civil unrest in the Sudan”. Not “there’s been civil unrest in the Sudan” or “civil unrest is on the rise in the Sudan”. No verbs whatsoever.

At what point did the news agencies of America decide that they needed the extra .02 seconds of time they saved by skipping all forms of be? It makes the English major in me cringe to watch Cookie Monster English go out over the airwaves.

I especially like hearing news anchors bemoaning the dumbing down of America and deteriorating writing skills while actively contributing to the problem. Irony much?