By this time next week I'll be on the air!

Friends,

If you’re checking in to see when the show starts, relax—it’s not until next Saturday the 14th (update: 21st), as the station is still juggling producers. (Rather amazing to watch, epecially when they light ‘em on fire.)

Great crowd Thursday night at Marysburg. So much fun to see y’all and sing some tunes again after a month-long hiatus for the holidays. Of course now there’s one more reason to hang out at Washington & 3rd on Thursday nights, in addition to J. D. Hoyt’s, the Monte and the Burg—it’s The R Factor at the new Trocadero’s, just up the street. My heart is still racing a full day and a half after hotboy Emil Campbell (red suit, at right) brought that portable mic all the way into the dining room and sang to me. (Hear it? Thumpity-thump thump!) Jimmy May, I hope that photo you took turns out.

By the way, it was VIP International’s First Thursday at the club, so we all got tasty drink specials. The next one is Feb. 2, venue to be announced, and it’s open to all. Word has it that the other First Thursday at Martini Blu earlier in the evening was a great success, as well. To get on that list, e-mail über-chic organizer Heather Pfeiffer here.

Arty parties!

Friday night, the fun began at the home of Cathy Madison and Rick Dublin for Algonquin Hotdish, a monthly gathering of eclectic writer-artist- filmmaker-photographer-media types with a few unique others in the mix, including Doug Wilhide, poet laureate of Linden Hills, with whom I sang an impromptu duet of Doris Day’s “Sentimental Journey” in the kitchen. Good wine, great food, and even better company. Thanks to Emily and Bix for coming—everybody loves you. (Don’t throw up, Bix. That’s a good thing.) Brand-mére Anne Berg started a lively discussion of Daniel Pink’s new book A Whole New Mind, which I picked up at Barnes & Noble on my way home—thank you, thank you to stores that stay open for night owls.

Next stop after Hotdish—the opening of “Random Strangers” at Rogue Buddha Gallery in Northeast Minneapolis, founded by Nicholas Harper, who was looking very Dickensian-hip smoking cigarettes outside in his black duster. The show is a collection of six artists who don’t know each other, expressing their individual interpretations of urbanism. Now, you’re talkin’ to a girl who loves the cityscape, and I couldn’t help whipping out my checkbook when I saw Craig Bell’s arresting Imagined City Series—and although I wanted (WANTED!!!) the hold-your-breath Loring Park scene, I opted for the smaller, more affordable “Chicago-Michigan Avenue at Water Street” work, and I already know exactly where I’m hanging it as soon as the exhibit ends a month from now. (Buy art! It’s fun! Of course you may have to give up other things, like food, or maybe furniture….)

I decided to top off my evening with a quick stop at Artujillo Gallery just ‘cause it’s next door to Rogue Buddha, although most of the art that they’re showing right now is too gritty for my taste. But what do I know? (I’ve probably passed up dozens of future Rembrandts and Picassos for my beloved David Wells and Dan Mason and Don Gahr. Hmmm…I see a disturbing pattern here…must start looking for artwork by women.) Anyway, as I drove back along University toward 35W and home, I had to smile at the warm yellow light spilling out of Emily’s Lebanese Deli, and at the tables filled with people inside. We Twin Citians have so much to be thankful for—including hummus and baba ganouj at Emily’s. I’m always glad to see those tables occupied.

Another reason to smile…I’d just had a perfectly wonderful evening going out on my own. Tonight I’m meeting friends at Ox-Op for the Gary Baseman opening (pictured: Baseman’s Creamy), and I’ll be on my own then, too. I can’t wait to spread the gospel of “alone-time in a crowd” on the radio. To my mind, it’s the perfect definition of freedom…uh…except that I promised to be home by 9:00. I told my son that he could use the car.

Anne

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