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Paco takes one for the Minneapolis

Rain's pounding the Twin Cities and our band of four remains hopeful that we'll be in Chicago by tomorrow afternoon. We just pulled in to our Minneapolis motel. You know your life has taken a turn when you look for a Hooters to find your home.

We've had a good day. I was up until 4am trying to keep Quin from getting my ass beat by the trucker next door. Maybe that's his plan. Then Paco, who's a nervous wreck wondering why we're letting all these people roam free around our temporary shelter, ripped off a few barks at seven. Let the day begin.

We did laze around long enough to see Drew Carey on TPIR. He and Brian Griese and Jake Plummer should share notes on filling big shoes. Carey does a good job but right now I think he's just trying too hard. And we must recall the words of Bob Barker who reminded the world that his replacement would not be another Bob Barker, but someone with their own style. So I was surprised to hear Carey ask us to neuter our pets (and maybe he should mention a trained professional do it). Shouldn't he have his own cause? Something with eyeglasses for kids or something. But a bigger question is this: What in the hell his wrong with hotel TV volume? You're just one click away from losing your QuinTV.JPGhearing to a Seinfeld rerun. One click down and it's back to an eerie Poltergeist murmur. The whole process rests on the same hair trigger mechanism that controls the water temperature.

After gathering up our traveling circus we went into downtown Minneapolis to see some friends. Jim and Connie have five kids and nice big, historic house to fit them all. Even better is they have a back yard where Paco would get to meet their dog, Joe. Although it was raining, and Paco's fur is mostly for decorative purposes (no seriously, on average my chest hair is twice as long as Paco's longest strand,) I figured he'd love to play outside.

lonelyjo.JPGConnie was also excited about their dog getting a playmate for the afternoon. Joe, however, had other ideas. He's a rather amorous fellow. I let Paco out and, with the satisfaction of getting him some physical activity, went back inside for some warmth and refreshments. A while later, after what must have been like very bad first day at prison, I revisited the back porch. I found only Joe, no Paco. The big, black lover was standing on the patio overlooking the backyard. He was staring at something in the bushes. In the foliage I could see the cowering and violated figure of our soaking wet and shivering friend. His nose and the dark eyes peered from the hedges. With great trepidation Paco emerged from hiding and sprinted past the longing gaze of his lonely friend. Joe made a few more moves which made it a whole lot easier to get Paco to wait in the car instead.

Later on we all went out for the Latin fusion offered by Cafe Ena at 46th and Grand Avenue. I highly recommend it. Sarah got the Vegetariano and loved it. Quin was a huge hit with the pretty people of the late-evening set. And here's a quick tip for new parents: Kid a screamer? Who cares! No one can hear him in a crowded restaurant hotspot. Make sure it's a popular place with loud drinkers.

Here's another: When holding the baby in the "football position", pay close attention to whether or not he's leaving a trail of vomit across one of the nicer restaurants in the Twin Cities. I didn't know he was horking until he landed some in my shoe. Otherwise I was riding high on the herd of the Midwest's sexiest people cooing over my boy. I wriggled the two of us out of the crowd, juked around a waiter and weaved amongst the tight fit of the finely coiffed patrons. The whole time Quin was unleashing a rancid milk rainstorm, splashing diners and a busboy, whose catlike reaction to the spray made me wonder what was wrong with him. The good thing about a really cute baby is that people are very forgiving. There's something entirely different from his burp-up to my running through and regurgitating a twelver and a pizza. Thankfully so.

I have to thank Jim and Connie and Anna for muscling through an evening with the crazy kid. After five of their own (the eldest, Anna, helping with the other four) a screaming kid is about as distracting as white wallpaper.

And thank you Allie for the entertainment...

She plays keyboards and guitar, too.

Reader Comments (2)

Wish i could do that! Tell Paco his biggest worry down here will be bob that cat, that will be one pissed cat when another dog shows up. Maybe Puddin when he loses his mind, because he will still be the smallest dog.
October 19, 2007 | Unregistered Commenterpete
Baby puke is one of those things that is easily forgiven, by all but the person cleaning it up. Let me tell you, get a bad one and that is a job you will remember.

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