Coming to Grips with my Minnesota Nice

Here we are in Minnesota. We snuck in through the southwest corner along highway 90 from South Dakota. But then we quickly took a right hand turn and ended up in Spirit Lake, Iowa for the night, camping along the lake shore at an Iowa State Park. Close enough? Heck no!. Iowa is not Minnesota thank you very much!

However, Spirit Lake was beautiful and the smells of autumn were everywhere – the fallen leaves mixed with the smell of the fresh-water lake with a hint of stinky dead Walleye fish brought back memories of a life I had forgotten about for decades.

The next day it was back in the Big Pig headed north along a dirt road through harvested corn fields to pop out back in Minnesota again.

What is it about this state that just feels so comfortable? I was born in Minneapolis and lived here until I was 12 then moved back for college. It just feels like an old comfortable pair of shoes. And isn’t that we are all really in search of? Good conversation, a strong cup of coffee and comfortable shoes?

There is something called Minnesota Nice and if you ever met anybody from Minnesota you know what I am talking about. That voice over the phone when you know the person is smiling. The way the lilt in the voice goes up at the end of a sentence. The hint of a smile. The wry sense of humor. Good, down to earth people. Mostly over 6 feet tall, blonde and with large rear ends but that is for another blog…

Passing the towns of Blue Earth and Albert Lea we then turned north to head up highway 35 to Northfield. You might be thinking to yourself, “Why does that town sound so familiar? “ And slowly it comes back. Shoot out. Younger Brothers. Jesse James. Brad Pitt. Yes! It is where Jesse James and his gang had their last bank robbery attempt thwarted by a band of Swedish and Norwegian town’s people (Q: What do you call a mixed marriage in Minnesota? A: When a Swede marries a Norwegian) and the bank clerk Joseph Lee Hayward who refused to give up the goods!

Fast forward a good one hundred years and Northfields’ motto is now: Cows, Colleges and Contentment. Northfield is home of the most celebrated Norwegian Lutheran college in the world (albeit, there isn’t much competition) -- St Olaf.

Stop laughing! I can hear you through the internet!

No I am neither Norwegian nor Lutheran. But brother did I ever want to be my freshman year. I mouthed along with the Lutheran Apostles Creed and ate my leftse and fruit groot with the best of ‘em. You betcha! But never the lutefisk. God forbid! Not the Lutefisk (raw fish soaked in lye). Each Passover the Gifelte Fish reminds me of it….

I called ahead to arrange a tour of St. Olaf since in the 25 years since I had been there I knew it had changed quite a bit. We were met at the Admission Office by the lovely Amy from Claremont, CA. Already I knew something was up. She had brown hair!

Turns out she had read about St. Olaf in a handbook called Colleges That Change Lives. Dare I say it? The college I went to 25 years ago had disappeared and in its place was a much cooler (dare I say edgy?) place with great art installations, inspiring architecture, and the feeling of student involvement everywhere. While I attribute St. Olaf with giving me a fine education and introducing me to a global vision of the world (I spent my junior year in Chiang Mai Thailand on a program through St. Olaf) it was always a bit of a smirk, on my resume. But no more! I am embracing my inner Olaf!

From Northfield it was up to Eagan, Minnesota to stay for 6 nights with most hospitable Barb and Scott in their beautiful spacious house! What a treat!

I did 29 loads of wash. I showered two times a day because I could. I did somersaults in their living room. Simon and I rolled all over the house with their dogs and we didn’t bump into anything.

There were doors! Doors. What a great invention.

After 2 weeks non-stop in the RV I have a new found appreciation for the mundane.

We also spent a wonderful afternoon at the Baken Museum which is housed in the old Cornelius House along Lake Calhoun. When I was growing up the Cornelius Family house was known far and wide because they gave away full-sized candy bars at Halloween. Very important.

But now it is a cool museum devoted to how electricity interacts with human bodies…think Frankenstein. Think pace makers.

After 6 wonderful days playing with friends and family and renewing ties that were never broken but felt wonderful to retie and hold in my hands, we left yesterday.

But cha know, I’m a Minnesota girl. I love claiming it as my home. I love the accents, the beer, the tater tot hot dish, Garrison Keillor, the huge oak trees that arch over the streets, the plaster cast replicas of Paul Bunyan and Vikings, the Twins.

I love the people. There is something called Minnesota Nice. And ya know, that’s alright by me.

Bye now.