Paul From Minneapolis

Saturday, January 28, 2006


When I was a young boy, during the madness for secret agents that swept the nation in the wake of "The Man From U.N.C.L.E.", for a couple years Christmas catalogs featured "attache cases." With real hidden cameras! I really wanted one. My plan, I explained, was to hang out at the bank uptown during my summers and wait for a robber, point my briefcase at him and get his picture. He would never suspect!

That is not why we purchased a digital camera now. Not in the slightest. This morning, I was just cruising looking for more Art. I drove past a park in Richfield, hard up against Highway 62, the Crosstown. There's a lake there, and a path, and I'd always been curious. It seems so quaint and hopeful, with the freeway and the landing path and all.

See that guy on the left-hand side of the pier?

That's a video camera he's pointing skyward. I'm sure it was nothing. Seriously. Jet-watching is a Richfield hobby. But just for a second, my 9-year-old heroic tendencies well up inside me...