Exposé: Foshay Tower

Tip top:  A needle point of stone and mortar affixed mid-center city, in the midst of a torrential downpour engulfed in light sepia of fog; skyscrapers appeared and disappeared in the spiraling weather system.

Old times brought to present; extant, yet different business within.  Light colored yellow granite headstones stacked sky-high; way up and over the viewing population.

Movement of a snails pace.

As the elevator reached the 30th floor, numerous button tries and occupants later, the two expressed their nausea and dissatisfaction of such a contraption.  Step by step they entered the museum.

The room outside of the elevator remained small, the artifacts remained many.  Clever outdated keys, never lost, trinkets strewn about in glass cases, minimally locked.  Pictures of the creators, the brains, and the labors.  Blueprints, concerned writings, and appreciation of city and citizen.

I live in it, I live here, presently proper.

All an idea; all below and holding us in the sky, stacked toward the heavens.  We road box-wise to the top and walked the rest of the way to the guest’s real apex.

For a small price, or free to those with a Minneapolis Central Library card, one can behold the beauty of the city’s past through language, printed records, photography, paintings, and inevitably the Foshay structure itself.

Some need to get up and get out, or rather just get outside, period.

A journey to the post office brought upon by a faulty mailbox, or a faulty landlord’s wishes and lack of ambition, turned to enlightenment and a history lesson shrouded in rain and conversation.

Trekking through rain, through crowds, through downtown, through farmer’s markets; the huddling few taking their keep under sparse makeshift rain awnings, eyes transfixed forward, up, and above, they took heed at the passing weather, and followed.  They had a course, but sans map.

Semi-purposeful day-tripper walking merely to wonder.

Ah, downtown Minneapolis, a place surreal and free if you want and take to share with a loved one save for the moments when hustle and bustle distract minimally.  But nothing is lost.  Look no farther, after you have come this far look back.  Outlined shoe prints track your path on the wet stone surface.  People fashioned with umbrellas and rain slicked coats, flowers for sale with fruit, the proprietor may even shoot you a deal.  The deal comes with the weather, and is not for those who stay inside, but outside today lay a brilliant surprise.

And then I was here/there:  Foshay Tower Wiki

I found myself with a friend on top of the Foshay Tower for little cost other than a walk, a talk, a library card, and some gumption.  All because of the company of the library I keep, with books, and opportunity abound.

Ms. Marla Singer

Those who sit on the couch miss the chance to look, take in, extrapolate, ponder and indulge in the city.  Channel 5 eyewitness news had nothing to announce of the sort of things I witnessed today.

 

Get outside, don’t get down.

Walk around your city, there is something to be found.

Local traveling inspires progressive thought and community betterment.

By the time we had approached our apartment complex, after the post-office and not before a sordid chat, I was extremely hungry.  My feet were tired before we walked across the street, through campus, through the park, to the geese by the pond.  And I thought about how I didn’t need to run the Hidden Beach 5k to make up for sitting around.

I had accomplished enough movement to suffice my inner physical trainer, kinetics via esthetics, with an eye full of substance.

And to think I could have just sat around all day, sunken halfways in a dilapidated couch, watching pixels change on an outdated dust stricken monitor.  Oh Joy!

Its a 50/50 toss up.  Life happens.

 

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About Terry Scott Niebeling

Hello, My name is Terry Scott, a human being with flaws. twitter: @sirterryscott Buy my ebooks: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1/191-4788099-1818040?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=terry+scott+niebeling
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