All tales from Route 9
Trashy newspapers
Its early fall on Nicollet ave. I’m waiting for the #9. I gradually notice that there is a person (a woman I think) with heavy coat, hat, scarf, mittens standing near the bus stop. In fact she is so heavily dressed that all that is visible is her eyes. Yet its 50 degrees outside.
More than an unfamiliar face
I use to take the #9 bus to work. Each morning the bus had only about 25 passengers, all the same faces, getting off each morning at their stops, paper in hand, and clutching empty coffee cups. On one Friday morning, there was an unfamiliar face. I walked half way through the […]
Passive-Aggressive Kung-Fu
On the 9, I was reading a collection of essays by Michel Foucault. I tell you this not to try and impress you, as Foucault is so five minutes ago and serves as a simple cue for many to say “I like critical theory. Do you like critical theory?” I’m telling you because it comes […]
