On Voiding Where Prohibited
Earlier this week Mitch Berg of Shot in the Dark fame saw the King and I. This will come as no surprise to those who know of MB’s passion for lavish Broadway musicals starring bald Siamese potentates.
However, in this case, ‘the King and I’ refers to King Banaian, the proprietor of the leading education-related blog in the state of Minnesota, and I (me, your's truly). The occasion was King’s testimony in front of the House Education Committee (in support of Governor Pawlenty’s initiative to establish social studies standards), and since he had some down time in St. Paul afterwards, the Northern Alliance residents of the Saintly City were happy to have a chance to meet with him at a local establishment.
It was a fine time and both gentlemen proved to be entertaining and provocative conversationalists. I left the 90 minute meeting with even more respect for the amalgamation of intellect brought together under the Northern Alliance banner. I also had the honor of participating in a kind of sartorial devolutionary line up. As we stood up and walked to the exit, I noticed King was wearing a bespoken suit, I was wearing Stillwater casual office slob chic attire, and Mitch was wearing sweat pants. I also noticed that height positively correlated with dressing down. Not sure what that says about Darwin or the ascent of man, but as I walked into the cold January St. Paul night, I had renewed faith for the theory of creationism.
Speaking of nature vs. nurture, during our conversation, King mentioned something about his affection for the city of St. Paul (specifically the neighborhoods around Summit Ave.), as compared to his disaffection for Minneapolis. This validated my opinion as well. But I’m an east metro boy since birth, and a disdain for Minneapolis is inherent to my genetic code. King, on the other hand, is not one of us. He’s from New England. Yet he still formed a disdain for the so-called City of the Lakes, based on pure intellect and logic alone. And he’s a Ph.D. in economics, so he has to be right.
A story out of Minneapolis this week punctuates our shared feeling toward that city. The Elder referenced it yesterday, and here’s the article from the Pioneer Press, entitled: “Minneapolis: End Public Urination, Ads Urge.”
To curb the problem, the DMNA plans to spend $10,000 on a campaign to get bar-goers to use restrooms in the establishments they frequent. So far, they're in the early stages of the campaign and are considering putting the slogan, "Go before you go," on posters and coasters.
Only in Minneapolis. You would never see this in St. Paul. That’s not to say public urination doesn’t happen in St. Paul. It does, as evidenced by the alleys along West 7th before any Wild game. But you would never hear of a quasi-government agency in St. Paul buying ads encouraging “Go Before You Go”. It’s naive, it’s silly, it’s a waste of money, it’s ... Minneapolis.
I suspect the writer of the Pioneer Press article, Gita Sitaramiah, isn’t a St. Paul native either, and may indeed be from Minneapolis. Her prose includes this nugget of moral relativism. It’s a reference to a witness report of some public urination in the warehouse district:
More troubling was that the men peeing around a garbage container were clearly not transients with nowhere to go, but guys with cash in their pockets out for a fun night on the town.
According to Ms. Sitaramiah, the sight of someone releasing their bodily wastes in plain sight is less troubling if they are transients. Interesting choice of words too, “transients”. It’s defined by Merriam Webster as “a person traveling about, usually in search of work”. Not bloody likely. Also the euphorian assumption that “transients” have no choice but to use the public streets as their toilet is characteristically Minneapolitan.
This compassionate tolerance of homeless public urination by some sectors of society reinforces the argument for charging an admission fee to get in to the Winter Carnival Ice Palace. If this thing were in Minneapolis instead, and being administered by Nick Coleman’s and Gita Sitaramiah’s rules, parents all over the metro area would have to be answering the question: “Daddy, why is the ice yellow at the bottom of the Palace?”
Believe it or not, it could be worse. While Minneapolitans seem to feel public urination by the homeless should be tolerated as a part of their rich, bleeding heart’s burden, there are others in this world who whole-heartedly embrace the practice in itself.
Who are these filthy vulgarians you ask? You guessed it, the French! Searching the term “public urination” in the Star Tribune archives (doing blog-related research lowers me to new depths every week), I came across this article from August 2000. It’s a review for a French travel book, including this charming insight into the Gallic soul:
Back in his adopted homeland of Provence, [Peter] Mayle can make even the French fondness for the act of public urination -- le pipi rustique -- seem charming.
Le pipi rustique, you say? Well, at least it sounds sophisticated.
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