Full of It

A few years back, all things French set me off. If you wanted to get David cranky, all you had to do was mention anything French. It was association carried to the ninth degree; something having to do with a relationship gone wrong. One extreme way to deal with it (or not deal with it) was to block out all reminders.

Another way was learned this past week. Perhaps what I should have done (and saved myself seven years of touchless reflection) was go to France where all things are of course, French. That way the association either forces one to jump off the cliff, or the all encompassing pin pricks that constantly surround you dull the pain and point out one's silliness. Often times you are stronger than you think you are and all it takes is acting out a Twilight Zone plot to point that out.

The first thing you notice when you arrive in Alexandria, Minnesota are all the motels. Off the freeway you can see a Holiday Inn, a Comfort Inn, and a Days Inn. Not too far down the road is a Super 8. There is also an AmericInn, a Radisson and don't forget the Viking Motel in town. For a city of 9,028 people this seems a tad excessive. But they say Alex is a tourist town surrounded by many lakes and all the wonderful outdoor activities Minnesota is known far and wide for. It is a conveniently located city, just far enough from the Twin Cities to be a retreat, and just close enough to St. Cloud to make you feel like you can go somewhere quick if the town doesn't quite meet all of your recreational needs.

The next thing you notice is that Alex is cold. Darn cold. When I left the Cities, it was a balmy fall evening. By the time I got to Alex, there was frost all around and the wind blew through the skin like a splash of strong perfume. And I'm pretty sure the shivers were caused by outside elements not inside affiliated connotations.

You have to like a city where all directions are given in relation to the big Viking statue that stands proudly at the edge of downtown. It also seems to be one of those small cities in the middle of a transition. The downtown area is comprised of family owned businesses. Further down Broadway there is a Walmart (my first shopping experience in one of those), a Target and of course, a MALL. There were no music stores that strictly sold CDs. There were a couple that sold instruments. Thus the kids had to go to one of the above mentioned Superstores to fill their country music needs.

Another noticeable thing was people actually obeyed the posted speed limits. Many actually drove under the maximum allowed. That actually took some getting used to, but you know what the old saying says, "When you're in Alex you do as the Alexandrians do..." Why worry when your destination is always only a few miles away?

For food there were all the usual fast food places (two Subways), a Perkins and a Country Kitchen side by side (I had pancakes for dinner one evening), a decent restaurant called Old Broadway that featured a difficult baked Reuben, and a Chinese restaurant called Lee's that served a wonderful Almond Chicken. For some reason, all week long I craved a McDonald's cinnamon roll for breakfast. Man those things are tasty.
The Runestone Museum was a bright spot on the leisure circuit. It featured a rock and a very nice sales lady who listened to my story on why I needed a sweatshirt with the word ALEX written on it. (Just how would I survive in a place called Davesville?) The movie theater in town was showing The Specialist, Puppetmaster, Only You, and Little Giants, so needless to say I spent the evening in my motel room (watching Rocky II). Rocky's joke of the week: "Why do cows wear bells? Because their horns don't work."

Overall, I would have to say our decision to open a store in Portland as opposed to Alexandria probably in the long run was a wise one, although there is something to be said for life in a smaller sized city. In Alex, people don't feel the need to lock their cars; the help at County Kitchen smiles freely; people care about their high school football team; and one can drive the freeways void of stress and anger. For visitors and townsfolk, the big Viking is a stabilizing presence protecting all with its stern grimace, watching over the city with an air of familiarity. In a confessional way it would be nice to call Alex home. Day to day life somehow seems more significant in its relaxing package, where one can actually take the time to smell the cows in the fields. And fortunately, you learn in time that reacting to a book cover in fear of its contents is a neurosis that can be overcome. Au revoir...