Rambling Rhodes

A Weekend for Common People

A Weekend for Common People

This weekend, I enjoyed what Melissa called "Ryan's Weekend." I'm not sure what prompted the special attention, and I'm not going to question it. Suffice it to say, it involved a whole bunch of me getting to do whatever I wanted and, if you know me at all, you've already guessed that my weekend consisted of a whole bunch of sleep.

It's funny, but Mel and I joke all the time that our relationship can be summed up as "eating, sex, and sleep," a summation that belies a relationsnip that really entails a lot more, even though, yes, a considerable amount of our time together is spent doing one of the three. I should note here that I am in no way complaining.

Some of the other things we did this weekend included taking in the snow sculptures at the St. Paul Winter Park Snow Carnival. Unfortunately, a few days of above freezing temperatures turned the field of snow sculptures into a vast gallery of Venus Di Milo derivatives. Some of the sturdier specimens retained their shape, although the obligatory Sponge Bob Square Pants sculpture hadn't weathered the weather all that well.

Strangely, the carnival included a snow shoe walking field, which seemed ridiculous considering the snow this year, at its deepest point, is maybe two inches. Still, people were happily strapping on snow shoes and trudging across snow that barely concealed the grass beneath. Another unfortunate aside, Mel and I didn't bring much money along, and we were disheartened to discover that my beloved mini doughnuts cost $3 a bag, and we only had $2 between us. *sigh*

Saturday night, Mel treated me to an entertaining bit of theater at the Children's Theater. We were both quick to note that we were the only couple present without children, a fact we readily agreed was in no way a problem, and we gave each other a quick high five. I have to admit, I had my reservations about attending the Children's Theater performance of Once Upon a Forest, but I was hooked, absolutely hooked, within the first five minutes. There I was, a 27 year old male, enthralled by a performance geared toward children. For children, it had to be completely magical. If you live in the Twin Cities, go see this. I can't pimp it enough. Wonderful.

Just prior to entering the theater, Mel decided to make a bathroom run, and she came back shaking her head. Apparently, as she was waiting in line, she overheard a gaggle of well-to-do mothers talking about a new Target store that went up somewhere in the cities. One of the mothers quipped, "Target: fashion for common people," and the other women twittered and giggled and no doubt raised a tea cup later that evening with their pinkies raised.

Don't get me wrong. One of my great aspiration in life is to become so incredibly filthy rich, I'll never have to work again, and that I'll have a huge house that comes complete with a bed that can travel from the bedroom to the kitchen on special tracks. But, I'll tell you what, I sincerely hope I am strong enough to remember, each and every day, that wealth in no way makes me somehow better than someone else. I already have an ego that does that for me.

Okay, in all seriousness, those "hoighty toighty" folks, as Melissa calls them, are so sickening. They believe that, since they have money and some semblance of social standing, they stand head and shoulders over the people who serve them their five star dinners. I'd like to beat them over the head and torso with a Plebian hammer.

Speaking of five star dinners, Mel and I took a tour of downtown Minneapolis after the show and, despite its intimidating exterior, took a chance at a cajun restaurant called Copelands. Oh. My. God. This food was unbelievable, and unbelievably reasonable in price. It was a little packed (this place puts chairs and tables in every possible spot of barren floor), but the service was good and I still drool like Pavlov's dog whenever I think of the dish I had but can't remember the name of.

So, "Ryan's Weekend" was a smashing success.

And then I came home and heard about the Shuttle Columbia, and my mood has been subdued ever since. What a tragedy. As if we needed another one.

Posted by Ryan at February 2, 2003 08:35 PM