Showing posts with label Megan Goodmundson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Megan Goodmundson. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Tornado Renovation Reveals Old Window Space, Antique Wall Paper...



Photos by Megan Goodmundson, blog post by John Hoff

NoMi Citizen Megan Goodmundson, who has been repairing her storm damaged home with insurance proceeds, sent me these pictures in Afghanistan of her post-tornado home renovations.

Ripping into storm damaged walls revealed...


A space where there used to be a window, hidden beneath the paneling. Megan decided to spend some extra money and restored the former window with lovely leaded glass. (See top photo, middle photo shows the discovery of the window space)

Renovations also revealed what may be the original wallpaper of the old bungalow. (Bottom photo)

As bad as the tornado was, Megan's house will actually be NICER when all the repairs are completed.

(Do not click "Read More")

Saturday, September 3, 2011

A Call For An End To The Tornado Clean-Up Grace Period...

Stock photo, blog post by John Hoff

The NoMi Passenger blog recently aired an idea that I can totally hop on board with: it's time for the "grace period" on tornado clean-up to end, time for excuses to cease and some work to actually get done, already.

Responsible North Minneapolis Citizens should stop holding off on the 311 calls and start dropping a dime on piles of debris, houses open to the elements with no sign of repairs, and yards with out-of-control foliage.

As for any house in that special, unique, one-of-a-kind category of having a wooden spear sticking out of the side:

The grace period for THAT was up several weeks ago.

(Do Not Click "Read More")

Friday, August 26, 2011

"Find The American Flag And Raise It Up Over What's Left Of The House..."

Photo by Megan Goodmundson, xoxo, blog post by John Hoff

The photo above shows what may very well be the "first flag raising" after the North Minneapolis tornado. Moments after the disaster, upon learning the house of NoMi "Super Citizen" Megan Goodmundson was severely damaged, I started making phone calls from my barracks in Mississippi and asking friends to go help Megan.

One of the first calls I made...



...was to the super-handy and helpful friend who stays at my house while I am deployed. He's ex-military, so he totally understood the first order of business was:

"Find the American flag and raise it up over what's left of the house."

Pictured above is the flag raising. Though a damaged tree is visible in the background, it's not obvious from this angle that the roof has been torn off the house.

Fortunately, there was insurance and the roof is being replaced.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Delicious Pork Uterus, Ear And Stomach At Banana Blossom! MMmmmmmm! THAT'S GOOD UTERUS!!!

Photo and blog post by John Hoff

Knowing my passion for trying strange cuisine, recently my girlfriend Megan picked up an authentic Hmong dish at Banana Blossom restaurant on Lowry Ave. N. The dish features pork uterus, ear and stomach.

Keep in mind, when I say "strange" I mean strange to me. Strange to my culture. This food is not strange to the culture from which it originates and, furthermore, there is nothing intrinsically stranger about eating a pig's uterus versus a pig's rear end, what your people call "pork chop."

(Click here for vintage Mazola commercial)

It was my first time eating the uterus of any animal--that I know about, you can never be sure what's in hot dogs, I'm just saying--and, I must admit, it was not at all unpleasant. The uterus of a pig tastes not unlike the testes, which can be found in other authentic Hmong cuisine such as the "pig organ stew" available at Bangkok Market on Lyndale Ave. N.

Of course, the testes have a meatier texture compared to the uterus. Uterus is more on the slippery side. Given a choice, I'd go with the testes.

Since uterus may be "extreme cuisine" for most readers, I should mention there are a number of other dishes at Banana Blossom which are unique and interesting and hard to find, as well as a lot of standard Southeast Asian fare that's both delicious and affordable. They even have a buffet!

If you want to try interesting cuisine on a tight budget...get to NoMi! Banana Blossom is only one example. I have yet to encounter a North Minneapolis restaurant that's overpriced.

(Do Not Click "Read More")

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

It Wouldn't Have Been St. Patrick's Day Without Corned Beef And Cabbage At Tootie's On Lowry Ave. N.

Photo and blog post by John Hoff

If anybody wants to serve legal paper upon me (and they so often do!) there is one particular moment in time when I am always vulnerable to being located.

March 15 through 17.

At some point you are sure to find me at Tootie's on Lowry Avenue, eating a big plate of traditional corned beef and cabbage. This year was no different. I was at Tootie's with Jordan Neighborhood "Super Citizen" Megan Goodmundson. The portion of corned beef and cabbage was so large it became my supper the NEXT day, too.

Yes, while "Spanky Pete" Rickmyer rotted in jail, while his process servers combed the icy streets of NoMi, trying to find me to serve me with some kind of gibberish-filled pseudo-injunction to prevent me from (allegedly) taking pictures of Spanky Pete, I was kicking back and eating like a king.

I'm sure that in years and years of jail food, you'd never get a dish like this. Mmmmmm.

Just like last year, I expressed a wish to my server that Tootie's would make this a regular menu item, available all year. Alas, it isn't happening yet.

However, Tootie's did recently update their menu. It's the same great food, some new additions, and pretty near the affordable prices we've come to expect. As Lowry Avenue continues to be revitalized, I hope they don't touch Tootie's!

(Do Not Click "Read More")

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

The JNS Blog "Half A Legal Victory Party" At Good Sports Bar And Grill...

Photos and blog post by John Hoff

The party-loving "revitalizer class" in North Minneapolis (NoMi) will seize upon nearly any excuse for a champagne toast, including the recent "half a legal victory" in the Jerry Moore v. John Hoff a/k/a Johnny Northside defamation lawsuit. Heck, if we'll
toast to a whorehouse being demolished we'll sure toast "half a victory" in court.

The verdict in the lawsuit was, of course, THIS BLOG TOLD THE TRUTH when I said
Jerry Moore was involved in a high-profile fraudulent mortgage at 1564 Hillside Ave. N. From that legal determination of truth, victory can be wrestled out of the rest of the ruling, especially with so much high-powered legal help coming out of the woodwork to get a piece of the action, and God bless 'em, every one. But I still think this one may go all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court. Something in my gut just says so, though it's hard to put one's law-trained finger upon the precise "issue of first impression."

But back to the subject at hand...a drinking party!

In the photo above, shot glasses are pressed into service to...


...drink champagne. Who cares what you use as a cup, so long as the cup is filled with bubbly? Ann Yin is visible in the photo. Her local and organic foods store,
Local D'Lish, continues to garner accolades far and wide. With the end of winter, farmers markets will spring up all over, but where was the living green fire of the farmer's market kept alive during the long, severe winter? In Ann's store.

That's where you can find a farmer's market during the winter, and virtually nowhere else. Just as spring comes "up from the valley" in the mountains of Virginia, so do springtime farmer's markets "come forth from the door of Ann Yin's store." Ann Yin made what was, to me, the most moving toast of the night: because this blog is not afraid to speak out, others do not feel afraid. If this blog falters, if this blog is afraid, others will be afraid as well.

That can't happen.



The champagne was given to Megan Goodmundson by one of her relatives, who was moving and was all, like, "I don't really need this magnum of French champagne." So we dubbed it "freegan champagne" because it was free.




Attorney Paul Godfread, above, is really more of the "listener type," especially compared to yours truly.




Brian Finstad and his partner Raymel, who moved from South Minneapolis (SoMi) to NoMi. In the foreground, Allie Wagner and her father, Dennis Wagner. When Jerry Moore was involved in the physical altercation in the basement of Jordan New Life Church, on the night of the JACC election which put the "New Majority" in power, Allie Wagner had to witness her father, Dennis, get struck by Jerry Moore--according to an eyewitness account.



The one and only
Jonathon Palmer. At one time, Palmer was executive director of the Jordan Neigborhood...before the "Old Majority" managed the organization so badly they can no longer afford an executive director...not yet, anyway.



Jordan resident Dave Haddy demonstrates how he witnessed Jerry Moore strike P.J. Hubbard in the face on the night of the "church basement altercation." Yes, P.J. was wearing glasses, too.




For a "half a victory" party, we had quite a crowd!



Ed Kohler of The Deets blog shows up, and poses with the champagne. He was off to some exotic city to inspect the toilet paper. I think Ed Kohler was about going crazy to be a witness in the trial, and be part of the circus. Too bad he didn't get a chance to testify, but his name was on the plaintiff's witness list so Kohler gets his footnote in "blogosphere trial of the century" history.



Joel Breeggemann, the "get to NoMi" guy, was already at the bar and kindly made an appearance at our gathering. He talked about how he remembered, very well, a homophobic rant Jerry Moore launched into right after an article was published in Lavender Magazine about how NoMi is the "gayborhood of the year."



Eric Johnson, from the Irving Inquisition blog, drains the last few drops of champagne from the bottle. Maybe some crafty lawyer can use this picture to accuse Eric Johnson of blogging while intoxicated.



(Sarcasm font) Don Samuels is the principal, Johnny Northside is merely the agent. All power and glory to Don Samuels.



Brian Finstad's Canadian relative is home shopping in North Minneapolis and has been for a while, looking to expand the revitalizer empire. At social events like the "Johnny Northside half a victory party" we plan, we exchange information, we renew our bonds which are already strong like soldiers in a platoon, facing adversity but bringing about victory.

This is our neighborhood. We're not leaving. The thugs, mortgage fraudsters, and Level Three sex offenders, THEY are the ones who will be LEAVING. We are sticking around, and turning this place into Urban Utopia for our children, and our children's children.

Thank you, friends, for coming to my party. I look forward to another one and--if it is necessary--another and another. If you missed this one, maybe you can make the next one!

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Tialian (Sic) Beef Available At The Chicago Grill, Lowry Avenue


Photos and blog post by John Hoff

This has been a pet peeve of mine for a several months, now, and some days ago I decided to finally write about it the same way I write about, for example, the unsightly Plexiglass windows at Friedman's Shoes on West Broadway. You see, there's a little place called the Chicago Grill on Lowry Ave. N. which serves the usual stomach-churning assortment of greasy meat-based foods widely available in North Minneapolis, and the window of the store advertises TIALIAN BEEF.

That's right. Tialian.

I can understand somebody making a mistake when the sign was manufactured. Hey, mistakes happen. What I can't understand is why they...

...went ahead and installed it like that. Was there nobody at all--from the person who ordered the sign to the person who installed it to the person who paid for it--NOBODY AT ALL WHO CARED WHETHER THE SIGN WAS SPELLED CORRECTLY AND CARED TO IMPOSE SOME KIND OF CIVILIZED STANDARDS? We're not talking about a misplaced apostrophe, here, or the wrong use of they/their/they're but rather a spelling error which is pretty much inexcusable butchery of the English language.

Now here's the crazy part. After I took this picture but BEFORE I managed to blog about it, the misspelled sign which had remained for, lo, many months...is gone. It's covered over with some kind of brown paper or cardboard. I think somebody saw me taking the photo from inside the store so maybe they decided to fix the issue before I could blog about it. Or it's a coincidence.

But if only I could get such quick progress with Friedman's Shoe Stores.

Already, I'm starting to miss the misspelled sign and grow sentimental. When I would drive by it with my girlfriend Megan Goodmundson, we always chuckled even as we gritted our teeth.

Lately, I was pioneering some experimental communication in "Chicago Grill Pig Latin," like so:

It's a tsereotype to say all Tialians have afmily members who are in the amfia.

With our neighborhood changing so rapidly, it's hard to cover the BIG STORIES let alone something this minor. But on a day that saw both a court hearing on the Jerry Moore v. John Hoff defamation suit, as well as a new attempt at a lawsuit by Peter "Spanky Pete" Rickmyer, somehow this little story got documented for posterity.

Tialian beef! Uymmy!

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

PART FIVE: Closing The Curtain On The Late, Great Civil Rights "Toe Stepping Trial" Of 2010...

Photo and blog post by John Hoff

It is fitting the coverage of this trial should end with an image of Michael "Kip" Browne speaking. Because Browne was trying to speak at a press conference...because Browne NEEDED to speak and represent the neighborhood, but loudmouth bully Al Flowers was shouting down Michael Browne...because Council Member Don Samuels took a moral stand, and made a gesture of standing in front of Al Flowers...

And because within the span of two seconds Flowers SHOVED Don Samuels, then shoved Samuels AGAIN...then filed a lawsuit a few days later, ridiculously alleging Samuels had stepped on Flowers' toes (which reportedly lack toenails, ewwww) here we were: the great "toe stepping civil rights trial" of 2010.

It was time for final arguments by plaintiff attorney Jill Clark. Some of her first words were...


"We don't need to get too deeply into bias."

This statement was in regard to the witnesses who were presented as to whether Don Samuels did or did not step on Flowers' toes. Indeed, one might agree with Clark, here. Both sets of witnesses had their bias though perhaps one set of witnesses were biased for THE TRUTH and the other, well, you do the math.

So, indeed, let's set bias aside. Ultimately, it would appear it was a question of who was CREDIBLE.

NOT A SINGLE JUROR WAS TAKING NOTES as Clark outlined the "elements of assault." Not a single juror made a written notation as Clark said, "Getting in somebody's space is offensive conduct."

Describing Don Samuels standing with back turned to Al FLowers, arms crossed, Clark said of Samuels: He could have kicked backwards, elbowed, slugged, ANYTHING! And Clark vigorously demonstrated "could have elbowed" with her arms, elbows crooked, looking something like a funky chicken only without the actual funk.

At least twice in her closing statement, Clark made mention of something she called The Sixth Sense. While I have always understood this phrase to mean "extrasensory perception," some paranormal ability to, for example, talk to the dead as in the movie The Sixth Sense, click here for movie trailer, Clark appeared to steal a page from the all-too-innovative linguistic playbook of plaintiff witness Steve Jackson when she said "the sixth sense" somehow involved the feeling of personal space being violated.

Clark pointed out that witness Megan Goodmundson said "We were all shoulder to shoulder" in that room, but Samuels was on the other side of the room (when Flowers started doing what Flowers does so well) so, well, "couldn't he (Samuels) have been symbolic over there?"

In her closing statement, Clark put forward an idea that Don Samuels basically came up with a premeditated plan to stomp on Flowers foot and get away with it. Once again making mention of Megan Goodmundson, whose video was virtually the "Zapruder film" of this incident, Clark asked, in a conspiratorial tone, "Was the cue...when Samuels starts to walk over, turn on the video cameras?"

(At this point, dear reader, if I was telling you the story in person I would be imitating somebody's facial expression, the all-too-serious look of a paranoid as something ridiculous comes out of their mouth which makes you want to laugh, but you have to suppress your laugher as you realize, oh my god: it's not funny to the raving paranoiac. No, indeed, the raving paranoiac is making this statement seriously and expects YOU to take it seriously)

Clark next attacked the notion Don Samuels wasn't acting under "color of law" when he stood in front of Flowers. Clark used this example: A police officer who was chasing somebody but, at the moment of shooting his gun, said, "Oh, but now I am a private citizen." Despite the overwrought analogy, Clark would ultimately win on this point: the jury agreed Samuels was acting "under color of law."

But it didn't matter. Samuels hadn't stepped on Flowers' toes. So said the jury.

Clark next addressed the issue of damages, saying the defense had "not made any effort to dispute damages." At this point I looked over and saw a jurist had her arms crossed at this point. And, my word, I had thought THAT juror was one of the most sympathetic to Clark's arguments.

None of the jurors took notes as Clark talked about damages, except one juror: a young female who was scribbling furiously, as she had scribbled furiously throughout the trial. Indeed, often that juror's scribbling didn't seem to follow the ebb and flow of the trial at all. I finally formed the opinion the "novelist juror" was writing something creative which didn't relate to the claims of Al Flowers: a personal journal, a love letter, even poetry. During key points of trial drama, she didn't look up, but was scribbling furiously with her head down.

Clark talked about the previous civil rights case with Flowers, and the $1 of punitive damages in that trial. That jury, Clark said, was trying to "send a message."

(Editorial comment: Yes, but perhaps the message was intended for FLOWERS and the very existence of this toe stepping trial shows Flowers didn't get the message?)

Once again going after Megan Goodmundson in her closing statement, Clark imitated Goodmundson chanting "Shut up, Al" and noted Don Samuels didn't go stand in front of GOODMUNDSON. Clark claimed that "the real Don Samuels shows through for a moment" when Samuels related "what he said" to Farheen Hakeem.

Clark didn't repeat what it was Samuels said in that chastising tone: something along the lines of "you were a promising young woman, you ran for political office, but now you associate yourself with marginal people and with crazies."

Clark began to talk about damages and how there was a need for a relationship between the various kinds of damages. The amounts should make sense and not be random. For example, Clark talked about the relationship between $100,000 versus a million dollars...

In the back of the jury box, a young female juror with hair as dark as McDonald's coffee was looking directly at Clark and I thought I could read the expression on her face, almost use "The Sixth Sense" to read her thoughts: this is madness. This is the stuff you hear about on television, the ridiculously large jury verdicts for petty incidents. Only it's not something distant and disconnected, something on television: here I am right in the middle of it, and I have to render the verdict!

City Attorney James Moore stood to his feet and made an objection: improper argument. The judge sustained the objection.

Clark moved on breezily, asking for "damages" (amounts not specified) to deter Council Member Don Samuels from "future disregard" of the First Amendment.

Before the jury went back, the judge told them to consider whether a contradiction might result from "a lapse of memory or a falsehood."

(If I had a vote on that jury, I'd probably go with "falsehood" based on what I observed of the plaintiff witnesses)

And so the jury went to render its verdict, and I scored some lunch downtown, expecting the jury wouldn't be gone long. In fact, I'd made a public prediction of one hour. But I forgot the "lunch theory" of jury duty: if a jury breaks around lunch time, they're darn sure going to make sure they get lunch. And so the jury was actually out for something like four hours, lunch included. Word of a verdict came back at around 4:05 PM. A source tells me the jury had sent a question back to the judge. The question concerned assault and was something along the lines of: can an assault take place if there was no (deliberate?) physical contact by Don Samuels against Al Flowers? As soon as the judge answered "No," the jury announced it had a verdict.

I ran back to the courthouse after being dialed by the judge's assistant. Samuels' attorney James Moore, who works in an office nearby, returned but plaintiff attorney Clark did not, nor did Al Flowers. It was only myself and Jordan super citizen Megan Goodmundson (who is my girlfriend) present to hear the verdict in that lonely courthouse.

The judge assured the jury that a real court was not like television: parties are not always present for the verdict, but Moore happens to work nearby. So no disrespect should be taken from the gesture of individuals not being present. One or two of the jurors nodded understandingly including the venerable Mr. Martinson.

The foreperson of the jury read the verdict. She did not bother to stand. The foreperson turned out to be the "novel writing juror" who had taken so many notes during the trial, to the point I began to doubt whether her notes concerned the trial at all. Maybe I had her wrong, and maybe I had her right, but in any case she was the foreperson. The first part of the verdict concerned whether Don Samuels had acted under color of law. The answer was yes. Don had acted as a public official when he stood in front of Al Flowers.

The next part of the verdict concerned whether an assault took place. To that, the jury said "No."

And so said them all.

At some point I ran into the husband of the juror named Sandy Zappa, and I asked him what may have been the most important and pressing issue of the trial: Any relation to the musician Frank Zappa? (Click here for more info) I was informed "That is my dad's second cousin."

Thus ended the Great Toe Stepping Civil Rights Trial Of 2010.

Click here to experience, once again, the Benny Hill theme song ringtone of an unknown juror's phone, an inadvertent musical commentary on the dubious civil rights claim of Plaintiff Alfred Flowers.


Tuesday, November 16, 2010

A Disturbingly Detailed Account Of Al Flowers vs. Don Samuels, The Great Civil Rights "Toe Stepping Trial" (Some Adult Language And Parody, Be Warned)

Photo and blog post by John Hoff

Today the Star Tribune offered a belated and not terribly detailed account of the trial of Al Flowers vs. Don Samuels, click here for that article. Though offering relatively few details not available on Johnny Northside Dot Com in the past week, the article is valuable in one respect: it shows the mainstream media understands there is a lawsuit machine at work and the mainstream media has called it out. In fact, the first two words of the article tell the tale:

FREQUENT PLAINTIFF Al Flowers...

I witnessed the trial and took detailed notes, so detailed the plaintiff attorney reportedly complained to defense counsel that I had somehow obtained the jury list and published it, click here for that blog post about jury composition. In fact, I obtained the names of the jury in open, public court and guessed at the spellings. (The fact the spellings were "approximate" was clearly stated in that blog post)

(The following three paragraphs are parody)

OK, I confess. Al Flowers handed me a copy of the jury list in the men's room, and said something about how he didn't have his glasses, and asked me to read aloud to him the names and (especially) home addresses of the jury. I told Al Flowers I'd be glad to read him the document, but on the condition I could take notes. He was all, like, cool, whatever, and then added, "I can read, you know, I'm not irrelevant." (sic)

Obviously, we didn't want anybody to see what was happening in the men's room so we went into one of the stalls. Sitting on the commode fully clothed, I read aloud a tawdry tale of suburbanites who had left their comfortable homes to sit in judgment on this messy case from the rough-and-tumble neighborhood politics of North Minneapolis, as contaminated by Al Flowers, who lives in South Minneapolis.

I'd only gotten some of the jurist names written down when Al snatched back the document and I was all, like, "What the hell, Al? A deal is a deal." But when you're trapped in a bathroom stall with a guy who is 6'4'' and 220 pounds, notoriously ill-tempered and lacking the social grace of a kindergarten student, you don't really want to push your luck. So I said nothing as Al Flowers stomped away, actually GROWLING like a pit bull. I could only make out the phrase "Maple Grove and sh**."

(End of parody)

Life Is A Stage And We Must All Play Our Roles

Judge Patrick J. Schitlz (like the beer) is very judicial, and has the handsome features and immaculate steel-gray haircut of a United States Senator, but you can perceive an affable and gregarious personality beneath his proper demeanor. It must have required a great deal of self-control to keep from laughing during the trial. One witness later told me about being very close to the judge on the witness stand, looking toward His Honor and perceiving a kind of...

...silent communication in the judge's bemused eyes: We both know this is crazy, but we have to play our roles, don't we?

At the beginning of the trial, the judge read a statement to the jury which summarized the issues in the case and how those issues had spawned the present litigation:

This is a civil case brought by Al Flowers, a community activist, versus City Councilman Don Samuels. Some years ago residents formed the Jordan Area Community Council, known as JACC, a neighborhood organization. JACC has a board of directors. In 2007 and 2008, a number of disputes divided the membership. In 2009 a new board was elected, and that new board elected new officers.

Some saw the election as illegitimate. The new officers called a press conference. Don Samuels attended. Samuels was in favor of the new board. Al Flowers attended, too. Al Flowers was opposed to the new board.

Michael Browne, the chair of the new board, read from a prepared statement. Flowers interrupted. Samuels stood in front of Flowers. Flowers says Samuels elbowed and stepped on his feet in a deliberate way. Flowers says he was assaulted by Samuels.

You, the jury, will have to decide was Samuels acting as a private citizen or a member of the city council? Consider the evidence in light of your own observation and life experience. You are the sole judges of the facts. You must decide who you believe. The witnesses, their intelligence, their motives, manner, reasonableness and consistency.

DO NOT post anything on the internet about this case. Do not post anything on Twitter, Facebook, or MySpace about this case. Don't read news stories about the case. Do not research or make any investigation. Don't go to the internet for information about some person. At the end of the trial, I will meet with you privately and answer questions so you can find out anything you are curious about. The judge didn't say this: the best coverage of all is to be found on Johnny Northside Dot Com. (But it's true)

Opening Statement By Clark Begins With Loud Chaos

Jill Clark walked up to the microphone and there was a shriek from the sound equipment, causing Clark to leap back a few feet in surprise. And so began the case of the plaintiff, with chaos and disorder.

Clark talked about how an opening statement is "a tree to hang things on." She wanted to give the jury "some things to look, listen, watch for." One way to assess creditability is to ask yourself, "What can the person see and hear?" You will see still pictures and one or more video tapes. One tape has audio, one does not. Keep in mind video has a vantage point that can only see certain things.

There are two claims at issue, here. One is a First Amendment retaliation. We ask that you listen for evidence. What was Flowers saying? Why was he saying it? Why did he care so much?

You will hear evidence about how Flowers felt. If he was afraid. You will hear evidence of physicality.

Ask yourself: what was the involvement of Minneapolis? Where did the money come from, and where was it going? You will hear evidence of factions within JACC, two strong and opposing factions. One faction was "pro-city" and one was "pro-community." That dispute got to the point there was a takeover of the board. That set the stage for what you will hear about. You can look at the transcript (of the tape with audio) but we will focus on specific parts.

Flowers stated, "I got four people who says you're illegal." That was "the elephant in the room."

There were witnesses who could see what happened. The plaintiffs believe Don Samuels was there "as a Minneapolis City Council Member." We are going to ask you to find that Flowers was assaulted.

Please consider: if somebody comes very close to you, could that be assault? It is undisputed that Don Samuels came from across the room, and had his back to Flowers. But what was going on with the feet?

After the police came and took Flowers outside, he left, they left, there were no charges. The evidence shows Samuels contacted (made contact with) Flowers but he (Samuels) was not removed that day. Police said Samuels is a council member. He is our boss. Keep in mind a prior jury awarded damages for First Amendment retaliation.

(A clarification is made somewhere near this point. The jury is told the "prior jury" involved a separate case, a different set of facts. It was not a "prior jury" trying this same case. My memory seems to say the judge made the clarification to the jury but my notes do not capture that info)

This Is A Case About A Bully Who Interrupted A Community Meeting

James A. Moore, city attorney, (not to be confused with Jerry Moore, the JACC executive director ousted in 2009) is no stranger to Al Flowers. In fact, it was Moore who went up against Flowers in the "cable access dispute," where Flowers' television show was suspended after somebody on the show said something to the effect "We've got to kill the house negro." (Others hear the word ni**er) The utterance was referring to Don Samuels.

So this "toe stepping trial" was a rematch for James A. Moore as well as Don Samuels.

Moore's opening statement said the case was about "a bully who interrupted a community meeting." The bully is the plaintiff, Al Flowers. Samuels is a community leader who recognized the inappropriate behavior, literally took a stand by standing with his back turned to the bully in a silent gesture of disapproval, and got shoved twice. Then he got sued.

How did we get here? It's a convoluted story. But first, let's talk about opening statements. I think of opening statements as being like the cover of a jigsaw puzzle box which tells you how the picture looks, not "a tree to hang stuff on." You might find a piece that is orange and say, well, that piece must go over there.

JACC is a neighborhood organization. JACC works with the city and does receive money. But in 2008, JACC was a fractured organization. There was a contest over nominations to the board. On January 12, 2009, a new board had its first meeting and ultimately elected its own officers. There was a lot of controversy in the community over these issues.

Don Samuels lives in the neighborhood and was active in JACC before being elected. You will hear how letters were written acknowledging the new board. There was a press conference a few days after the election. There are two videos. These videos are key evidence: a picture speaks 1,000 words. What happens is the plaintiff begins yelling loudly, over and over: "I got four people says you're illegal." Samuels stands in front of Flowers. Flowers shoves Samuels twice in the back and then continues to yell. Others try to calm down Flowers.

What happened here? The Council Member made a symbolic, non-violent gesture of disapproval. For that, he got shoved and then he got sued.

A High Tech Jury Box

It wouldn't be surprising if the jury weighed videotaped evidence very heavily, for reasons beyond its objective recording of whatever reality is placed before it: the jury box is rigged up with computer monitor screens. Each juror has their own private screen.

As in the opening lines of "A Tale Of Two Cities," this was a trial of Light, and a trial of Darkness.

The courtroom lights, according to Judge Schlitz, had only two settings: Airport bright or grave dark. An attempt was made to dim the lights for the first playing of the JACC press conference video--the one with audio, not the silent "Zapruder film" showing Don Samuels head snapping back after being hit from behind, twice. Dimming the lights plunged the courtroom into darkness, so there would be no dimming of lights. His Honor bemoaned the sorry state of the lights in this court room: a different federal court where he has presided has such finely tuned controls you can almost put on a Hollywood production. Oh well. We'd all have to make do.

At this point in the proceedings, Jerry Moore (the ousted former JACC executive director) showed up in the courtroom. He was wearing his eternal blue blazer. As Jerry took a seat, he grinned and actually WINKED at me. Please note this is NOT being written in the parody font. I wish.

The first showing of the JACC press conference videotape would say much about the reactions of the jury, their first impressions of notorious loon-at-large Al Flowers. I watched the jury closely as the tape concluded and they looked up. Several wore carefully-muted expressions of shock and disbelief...except for Mr. Martinson, the oldest juror with a background in print sales. His expression (though muted) was one of anger and disgust.

He was looking straight at Al Flowers.

There are moments you know which way a particular jurist will go long before the jury leaves court to seek a verdict. You can tell by the way they stop taking notes or even try to keep themselves from LAUGHING. You can tell when a jurist has their mind made up. Martinson's mind was already made up. That was one jury member down, and 8 to go for the defense.

Don Samuels Takes The Stand, Jury Soon Eats From His Hand

Don Samuels took the stand and was questioned by plaintiff attorney Jill Clark. Under clever questioning, Samuels confessed to being duly elected three times. Yes, (Jordan resident and super citizen) Megan Goodmundson had "worked on the campaign." (Clark was trying to get Samuels to say Goodmundson was his "campaign manager," but Samuels did not say that)

There was discussion about the various roles of Don Samuels, both as a city council member and a member of the Jordan Neighborhood. So much of the testimony throughout the trial involved trying to prove the "color of law" assertion. Keep in mind ONLY THE GOVERNMENT CAN VIOLATE YOUR FIRST AMENDMENT RIGHTS. The First Amendment protects us from the government, not against each other, when it comes to the First Amendment. So if Don Samuels was going to violate Al Flowers precious First Amendment right to, for example, host a show saying "kill the house negro," Samuels would need to be acting in the role of a public official or, at a minimum, be unable to leave that role and act as a private citizen because the public official role was inherent.

There was an extensive and tedious discussion about NRP, CPED and their interactions with JACC. At one point, Don Samuels identified his own wife, Sondra Samuels, on the video tape as Sondra yelled, "Officers, be careful, he'll sue" as the police hauled off Al Flowers. Don Samuels called his wife "the pretty lady," producing soft laughter in the court room and smiles from the jury.

Very quickly, it was apparent Samuels was winning the jury. They liked Samuels, and sensed his aura as the man chosen from all the people of the neighborhood to be its leader, its spokesperson. Before the trial was over, some of the jury members were seen to be sitting up and paying rapt attention to Samuels on the stand, their faces wearing an expression of open admiration, expressions that seemed to say: I can understand why this neighborhood, with all its difficult and troubling issues, chooses this man to fight for its interests. There may be hope for North Minneapolis, after all, if they can produce organic grassroots leaders like this to get them out of their troubles.

For much of the trial, I was seated behind Al Flowers. At one point early in the trial, I saw an image of myself on the video screen behind Al Flowers as I actually, in present reality, sat behind Al Flowers two years later. At that moment, I could feel the thin veil of reality degrading and being replaced with "surreality matter," bit by bit. Will the press conference ever end, or will we all be caught in its vortex forever?

Jill Clark began listing people. People Don Samuels (admittedly) DID NOT go and stand in front of during the press conference. And what could Don Samuels do? He was guilty as all-get-out, forced to admit he hadn't gone and stood in front of these other people.

A still photo was presented as evidence showing Council President Barb Johnson at the press conference. Well, there you had it. Council President Barb Johnson was present at the press conference. As the Charles Manson cultists put it so well: The president has said we are guilty, so why does the trial go on?

Jill Clark asked Don Samuels some rather open-ended questions, and Don Samuels took the opportunity to explain his actions at the press conference:

It was happening again. Al Flowers was trying to shout people down and those present were too intimidated to speak. By standing in front of Flowers with his back turned, Samuels was trying to say "The people in this circle are having a meeting and the grownups will make sure this meeting takes place."

Clark asked: Wouldn't Don Samuels agree that NO MATTER WHAT AL FLOWERS SAID that he (Samuels) does not have a right to assault him (Flowers)?

Without hesitation, Don Samuels agreed.

A Close And Personal Encounter With Jerry Moore In The Men's Room

While the testimony had continued, Jerry Moore changed seats in the court and landed himself at the end of the "pew" where I sat near the jury box. Nobody else was in that "pew" but Jerry on one end, me on the other, and since my end of the pew is set against the wall, the only way out was past Jerry.

I had rather hoped Jerry would move before I had to leave, so I wouldn't be forced to speak to him. Jerry Moore is suing me for accusing him of involvement in the fraudulent transaction at 1564 Hillside Ave. N., a transaction in which Jerry Moore was involved as surely as God made little green apples. You can ask slumlord Keith Rietman, who is very open about Jerry's involvement in the deal. Recently, one of the defendants in a mortgage fraud lawsuit filed against Keith Reitman, Jerry Moore and others submitted a brief to try to keep Moore in the case as a defendant but, really, all this stuff is from another matter which will be explored in good time.

In any case, because Moore has a lawsuit against me, I'm not supposed to speak to him, riiiiight? But I couldn't get out of the pew because Jerry Moore was at the end of the pew, now standing up and talking to two other people, but still blocking the pew egress.

So I leaned over and said to the bailiff, "Sir, I would like to get out." The bailiff immediately asked Jerry, et al, to move aside and let me pass. At this point Jerry began to verbally protest something to the effect why couldn't I ask him, Jerry personally? Why did I have to say something to the bailiff? The bailiff answered something like, "Well, he feels he needs to ask me. Could you move, please?" And they moved. And I passed by, went to the men's room, and was standing at the urinal for obvious purposes when Jerry Moore came in, took the urinal beside me, and began exhaling angrily and undoing his belt.

"Why can't you be a man, huh? Just for once in your life, BE A MAN."

No answer.

"You should go back to where you came from," Jerry says. "Leave. Nobody wants you here."

No answer. One thinks things, but there is no answer. Jerry's voice grows more agitated.

"Nobody wants you. You understand? I don't want you. I DON'T WANT YOU!!!!"

There I stand, with my junk in my hand/
There Jerry stands, also a junk-holdin' man/
But he makes it plain for me to see/
Jerry doesn't want...doesn't want...ME

I zipped up, silently. I washed my hands in silence and in silence I walked away, out of the men's room. In the hallway, the truly scary-looking Mpls Mirror lady chanted "Dead beat dad, dead beat dad." This is what I get for recently paying my ex-wife the $3,000 I owed her from a hard, difficult 10 weeks of extended work in South Carolina. Sigh.

Oh, well. Justice may not exist in the men's room, it may not exist in the hallway right outside the court room, but I had confidence justice would prevail inside the court room. I went back and took a seat. My hands were nice and clean as I entered the court room. The bailiff gave me an understanding nod and smile as if to say, "We know the galley is filled with crazies today but don't worry, this is a federal court, there's plenty of security."

(TO BE CONTINUED IN PART TWO)


Saturday, September 25, 2010

So-Low African Snail Culinary Experiment Goes So, So Wrong...

Photo and blog post by John Hoff

North Minneapolis is home to numerous ethnic groups and, therefore, numerous ethnic food stores. And, while the jaw-droppingly affordable store known as So-Low isn't an ethnic food store, per se, they do have an incredible selection of ethnic food items. Anybody who reads this blog for very long knows I can't resist any kind of strange food, and I will go out of my way to try things I haven't tried before. So it was I got my hands on some African snails from So-Low. This happened a few months ago, but I am going through some of my old pictures and, well, I found the snail images like a pocket of suppressed memory. The horror, the horror...

My girlfriend Megan Goodmundson was a good sport about cooking the slimy beasties, after trying to marinate them. I tried to find some good and SIMPLE recipes on the internet, but I didn't have much luck. Most of the recipes I found involved putting the snails in a pressure cooker, which we didn't have available, as well as crazy talk about soaking the snails in alum. (Whatever THAT might be!)

Well, we figured we could just skewer the snails and throw them on a grill.

Wrong. So wrong.

I am not sure what shoe leather tastes like, but I am confident those grilled snails tasted pretty close.

This goes to show not every exotic food experiment goes right, not even with a cook as good as Megan Goodmundson.

But without a periodic spectacular failure, success wouldn't be as sweet.

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Thank You, Don Samuels And Diane Hofstede, For Cleaning Up "Crackhead Alley" (Summer Visitation, 2010)

Photo and blog post by John Hoff

After the "World's Largest YWCA" project plan fell through--a relatively rare setback in the overwhelming revitalization trend taking place in North Minneapolis--the alley next to the building turned into an eyesore, click here for details. The vacant lot next door also turned into an overgrown, weedy mess.

During the recent five weeks I had summer visitation with my 13-year-old son, Alex, I would often go to the nearby Burger King to pick up his favorite breakfast of hot "Cini Minis," a chocolate shake and a plain egg croissant sandwich. Other days we'd make scrambled eggs on our own, so it's not like Alex had a "Burger King breakfast" every day, you know? But the Burger King trip happened often enough, and every time I was fetching that breakfast for my son, I would see no-accounts loitering in the alley, sometimes stripping copper wire and leaving a big mess. And who knows where they...

...got the copper wire? A dumpster, maybe, and that would be a commendable act of super-proactive recycling but then again...maybe the copper wire came out of somebody's house. And who can tell with folks who look, act and (wrinkling nose) SMELL like crackheads?

So, every day, I would be calling the police on this loitering while fetching my son his breakfast. As I've written before on this blog, a casual trip to fetch some kind of treat for Alex can end up accidentally involving a great deal of effort from the city's regulatory services!

But it wasn't just me calling about "crackhead alley." Jordan Super Citizen Megan Goodmundson did a lot of calling, too. Finally, the ongoing problem reached a point where we called the city council offices of Don Samuels and Diane Hofstede.

After we called our city council members, it didn't take very long before the alley was cleaned up and the no-accounts, well, they stopped hanging around there so much. I'm sure the day will come when I see them hanging around in the alley again, and I'll have to call the police again, but for now everything is fine. As for the project planned for that building...something good will happen, and good things take time. For now, we just have to clear out the (suspected) crackheads.

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Motion To Dismiss In (Baseless And Frivolous) Defamation Lawsuit Against CRA Chair Donald Bellfield...

Stock photo and blog post by John Hoff

CRA Chair Donald Bellfield, who was slapped with a defamation lawsuit so frivolous that (in my humble opinion) it could have been conceived by notoriously frivolous litigant "Spanky" Pete Rickmyer, may finally get some relief on June 23, 8 a.m. courtroom number 759 in the Hennepin County Government Center. A hearing will take place on a Motion To Dismiss, click here for the document. One can reasonably expect many of the same characters who starred in the Dolan reappointment hearing to make an appearance. Disruptive potty-mouths should be aware the kind of behavior tolerated in City Council chambers will NOT be allowed in court.

Word is that attorney Ferdinand "Ferd" Peters is representing Bellfield--the same attorney who represented North Minneapolis activist Megan Goodmundson, and others, against a fruitless "defamation" lawsuit filed by attorney Ben Myers, whose "Old Majority" lawsuit against the Jordan Area Community Council also failed miserably. Ferd appears to be developing something of a specialty in defending pointless defamation lawsuits.

Hopefully the defendants in this matter will make an effort to recoup their attorney fees.

(Do not click "Read More")

Monday, May 31, 2010

Delightful Pork Skewers At Bangkok Market In The Hawthorne EcoVillage

Photo and blog post by John Hoff

Bangkok Market--a grocery and deli located in the EcoVillage, near Lyndale and 31st--has delightful hot and ready-to-eat Hmong dishes, including a tilapia which is out of this world.

Recently, I dropped by and found the pork skewers so tempting I just had to have one. After eating it, I told my friend Megan Goodmundson how good it was, and we made a special side trip that very minute to go try one. Megan attempted to get the recipe from Tony, the owner of Bangkok Market, but he just laughed and said, "We throw a bunch of stuff together." Not only was the recipe a secret, but it was not written down...a practice I've read is typical of Hmong recipes, which are passed down verbally within families.

But I'm fairly sure the pork skewers in question use saffron, which turns the pork fat a delicious yellow, and for some reason the fat in particular seems to soak up the saffron flavor. Beyond that, I have no clue.

Well, garlic. A little garlic, not a lot.

Undeterred by the secrecy of the recipe, Megan purchased some pork shoulder meat, and decided to create her own Hmong-like pork skewers. In preparation for Memorial Day Weekend, we also made a trip to So-Low to buy (among other things) African snail meat, but that's a different post to follow. For now, the only place to get these fantastic, savory pork skewers is the Bangkok Market.


(Do Not Click "Read More")

Transporting A Lawnmower "Northside Style"

Contributed photo, blog post by John Hoff

My house in NoMi--purchased for a mere $17,900--has a big yard to mow. I used to have a lawnmower, which I bought off a professional used lawnmower salesman for a mere $50--but my friend Peter Teachout is the only guy who can make that lawnmower start. So more than a year ago I "borrowed" Peter the lawnmower, but the truth is I hope I never see it again, and Peter can have it.

Now when I need to mow my lawn I have to borrow a lawnmower, usually from Megan Goodmundson or Connie Nompelis. This means transporting the lawnmower, somehow. The day before yesterday, Megan helped me move the lawnmower in the usual way: Northside style.

It's always funny, the looks you get while sitting in a car trunk, hanging on to a lawnmower rolling behind the car, like a human ball hitch. But if you wave to anybody with one hand, the lawnmower will start "fishtailing." So smile and nod, do not wave like a beauty queen on a parade float. The driver knows enough to avoid the busy streets like 26th Ave. N. and Lyndale Ave. N.

I should mention that once, just for variety, I pulled a grill this way behind Megan's car.

(Do Not Click Read More)

Saturday, March 6, 2010

Johnny Northside's "Great Escape," The Promised Detailed Account, And Ongoing Clues About The Location Of Johnny Northside!

Photo And Blog Post By John Hoff

So, as most readers know by now, I managed to escape legal service by Hennepin County sheriff's deputies forced to act at the behest of "Pete The Pedophile," who has filed a gibberish-filled midnight manifesto with the courts suing, well, everybody including Commander Mike Martin of the Fourth Precinct, a powerful law firm, the Jordan Area Community Council, (JACC) and a couple of cops. Due to the fact I have not yet been served, as of today, Pete the Pedophile still doesn't have "personal jurisdiction" over me.

Which is a good feeling. I ask you, dear reader, would you want a Level Three sex offender to have "personal jurisdiction" over YOU? What do legal phrases like "cross examine" mean in the mind of a sex offender sicko chomo? You have to wonder.

So let's talk a bit about the idea of "dodging service." First of all, it's perfectly legal...

...to dodge service. Yes, even when the service is from sheriff's deputies. I'm not giving ya'll legal advice or anything like that, but I studied up on the topic once upon a time and--the day after I escaped--a friend of mine checked with a licensed attorney. YOU DO NOT HAVE TO ACCEPT LEGAL SERVICE. You can leave town, or sit in your attic quiet as a mouse while people pound on your door, or find a way to slip out of City Council chambers through the city council offices. (Though that's a neat and rare trick, I'd have to say, and I'll admit reveling in it, just a bit)

Thugs already know this. People who live outside the law instinctively dodge service or, for that matter, warrants. Decent people, in contrast, don't usually have to think in terms of dodging legal matters. But in a neighborhood where frivolous, politically-oriented lawsuits are a routine part of "bare knuckle Northside politics," it would behoove decent folks to contemplate the notion of dodging service which--I have to point out--is GOOD CLEAN FUN, just like dumpster diving.

So there I was at the reappointment hearing for Chief Dolan, the room filled to standing-room-only with interested citizens of Minneapolis and at least one (Tom Cleland) who is not a resident of Minneapolis, but came to speak anyway about the appointment of our Chief. Whatever. There were clearly more pro-Dolan people in the room, judging by the WE WANT DOLAN stickers on numerous lapels and the fact the anti-Dolan faction is trying to claim it was "about even." No, it wasn't. There were more Dolan people there, including a number of uniformed police officers who did not speak but were sitting close to Chief Dolan.

(For the record, I helped distribute but was not involved in the creation of the stickers, so it would be erroneous for anybody--on Flikr.com, for example, click here--to say these were "John Hoff's" signs) However, the anti-Dolan crowd was more vocal and more of them went to the podium to speak, so all-in-all the speakers were about 50/50 pro- versus anti-Dolan.

Just before the hearing, Peter Rickmyer a.k.a. Peter Richard Stephenson a.ka. Pete The Pedophile skulked through council chambers, boldly walking up to the dias and leaving papers in the place where Third Ward City Council Member Diane Hofstede sits. I hope Hofstede has plenty of hand sanitizer back in council chambers. If I were an aid to Hofstede, I'd be sure to keep hand sanitizer stocked, or it might mean my job, click here for more info.

Anyway, earlier in the meeting, I had spoken to Deborah Allen, who was mad at Dolan for--get this!--firing the officer who shot Fong Lee. I guess, for a police chief, there's just no way to please all the critics...most of which thought firing the officer was a good idea, but wanted it to happen much earlier. Due to Deborah Allen's rather unique stance on why Dolan shouldn't be re-appointed, Jeff Skrenes dubbed her "the duck billed platypus of the anti-Dolan camp." Like, yeah, she's anti-Dolan but she just doesn't FIT with the regular anti-Dolan critters.

Well, anyway, at a point before the meeting started I saw ol' Pete the Pedophile chatting up Deborah Allen. And, I should mention, I KNOW THIS WOMAN. I talked to her myself before the meeting, and I once wrote an article about the business she used to run, Gopher Cleaners and Launderers. (The article can no longer by found on the Minnesota Daily server, but its footprints exist on the internet, click here) At the time I wrote the article, Allen felt she was being "forced out of business" by her landlord, and I felt her story was highly relevant to the U of M campus because the laundromat was very popular with college students.

So, when Spanky Pete got done talking to Allen--when there was a pause in the conversation, anyway--I walked up to Allen and said, "Hey, Deborah. Look, I know we're on different sides of this Dolan thing but I just thought you'd like to know--"

(At this point I could see Pete mentally bracing, waiting for what he knew was coming next)

"This guy you're talking to is Peter Richard Stephanson, a registered Level Three sex offender and a pedophile."

"Thanks, John," Pete said, reddening, and walking away.

Apparently, this was the most clever thing Pete could come up with, "Thanks, John." Yeah, a real zinger. Meanwhile, Deborah Allen said nothing, but her face wore a look of shock; the same look MOST people's faces wear when they discover they've been chit-chatting with a dangerous, perverted, deviant social pariah.

Pete didn't try to stick around to try gaining back any social ground with Deborah. When you're in polite company, and your Level Three status is mentioned...hey, the jig is up. Best to give up all pretense and just walk away, head hanging down, like a dog caught eating from the cat dish.

Well, sitting through the hearing I was already mentally calculating that I should give my testimony and leave because, I figured, Spanky Pete was off talking to the process servers, saying, "John Hoff is in City Council Chambers right now." But the reappointment of Dolan meant so much to my neighborhood, I was willing to risk getting served. I sat in a seat near the speaker podium, visible in the camera angle. As the hearings were broadcast and recorded I held up a "We Want Dolan" sign.

After one of the speakers objected to my sign, and the Chair of the meeting (Don Samuels) said the signs were "my right," I held up TWO signs. And so I sat, holding my signs, visible to the whole public-access-watching world.

At some point--right before I started holding up my signs--notorious loon and mayoral candidate (of Crazy Town) Al Flowers came up to me, leaned down and whispered, "John, there's a sheriff's deputy outside who wants to see you."

"Thanks, Al," I said, because I can be just as clever, you see, as Spanky Pete.

My friend Megan Goodmundson went out in the hallway to confirm the sheriff's deputy was there to serve me. (There was only one deputy, at first, but reportedly there were two during the course of the long hearing) Megan informed the deputy that I, John Hoff, wasn't going to come out of the council chambers. The deputy shrugged and said fine, he could wait. He was "getting paid by the hour" and could "wait all day" because he didn't want to "disrupt the proceedings."

I could see Al Flowers watching me, intently. Outside of council chambers, the lady from the Minneapolis Mirror had a video camera all set up. She was apparently so intent on capturing video of Johnny Northside getting served she was forsaking all the juicy Dolan hearing testimony, just waiting for that "money shot" of Johnny Northside being spanked with legal paper by Pete the Pedophile. Meanwhile, Pete himself was in chambers...watching. I was pretty much surrounded.

However, there are two doors which lead out of the council chambers. One, I knew, went through the city council offices. The trick, I thought, was to get through one of those doors instead of the main door.

I got up from my seat and spoke to a high-ranking public official who shall remain nameless but let's just say...it's not this guy's fault. I am capable of being cunning and coldly calculating when necessary. I used these skills for "social engineering." I explained to the (innocent, somewhat distracted) high-ranking official how I was on a tight schedule and--right after the council meeting--I really needed to have a word with some (any, really) of the council members from North Minneapolis about this emerging issue of Level Three sex offenders concentrated in North Minneapolis...though a state statute says that's not supposed to happen, click here.

Furthermore, I wanted to avoid the crowd and--if I might--just slip into the chambers for a MOMENT, because, really, that's all it would take? Just a moment of their time, in private?

And my request worked. The high-ranking official was agreeable, subject to one caveat: the council members would have to be willing to talk to me. No promises, you understand. (Me, nodding agreeably) He or she offered to slip me into the city council offices when the hearing was done and things were breaking up, so I might get a brief moment of "face time" with some or maybe even all of the North Minneapolis council members.

I said, hey, I owe you. Big time.

When the hearing started to break up, I was whisked into council chambers. While the high-ranking public official checked into the schedules of my elected officials, I scoped out the location of the side door. There. There it was. I wanted to dash through it immediately but, well, that would be rude. The high-ranking official came back with an apologetic look on his/her face: there just wasn't time for a meeting right now. Everything was so tightly scheduled.

Oh, I said, that was alright. Thank you, really, for trying. Could I just exit through this side door, here? Yes, of course, that would be fine.

I walked out the door and went quickly to the staircase, wishing I'd left my heavy backpack with Megan Goodmundson. I ran down three flights of grand Italian marble, quickly but prudently, no bannister-sliding, and at the ground floor I dashed past Poseidon, the Father of Waters, who looked right through me and said nothing.

Out in the street, which way to go? I thought about going around the building to the light rail stop, but quickly realized I needed to put distance between myself and the building. So I ran to the next light rail stop down the line, boarded the train, and went to Target Field. At that point, I started Tweeting stuff...like, "Where is Dog The Bounty Hunter when Spanky Pete really needs him?" And, of course, I started Tweeting lyrics from "fugitive songs" to Megan.

Gimme some water/
I shot a man on the Mexican border/
Cool, cool water...

Meanwhile, Megan Goodmundson told me the Johnny haters were all confused, wondering, "Where did he go? How did he just...disappear? There's Megan, so where is John?" Megan drove to the light rail station at Target Field to pick me up. I told her by text message, "Don't bring any heat with you ha ha."

One mysterious aspect of the whole adventure--and I keep turning it over in my head--is why Al Flowers warned me. Without the early alert from Flowers, I would have certainly been served. I have two theories on the matter, and I'm not sure which one is true.

1.) Al Flowers just wanted to watch the show, and he was trying to hurry it along so he could see me get served.

2.) It would be contrary to Al's principals to be aware of somebody pursued by the police, and not tip that person off if he possibly could. Also--say whatever critical things you like about Al Flowers, lord knows I do--the man is a parent and therefore the natural enemy of child molesters. So, for a bit, the usual political lines dissolved and Al Flowers was, for rare solar eclipse of a moment, my ally.

Um...I actually lean toward the first theory, though. With an impatient, child-like personality, Al Flowers wanted to watch a spectacle. Inadvertently, he tipped me off and kept that very spectacle from happening. Thanks, Al. (Sarcasm font) But I'm keeping an open mind to the first possibility.

That night, I made a point of sleeping at a friend's house. But, well, you can't hide out forever. So I thought it would be fun to start Tweeting my locations, seeing if it might attract the attention of process servers for the purpose of more edge-of-my-seat amusement and (I hoped) frustration for Spanky Pete if I should prevail.

Right when I started Tweeting my locations--determined to play this game for maximum fun--some chomo-loving snitch told Twitter I had (heaven forbid!) Tweeted somebody's address on Twitter. The irony! Right when I was going to start Tweeting my locations to help Pete a little bit, some pedophile-ally complained to Twitter and got my account temporarily suspended.

Oh, well. It would appear if I remove the "offending posts" the account will be re-instated.

And the game will begin again.

(Blogging from an eatery with wireless internet access, where I just finished some delightful broiled shrimp and peas)

(Find me if you can, Spanky Pete. I will be constantly giving you clues until you do!)


Sunday, February 28, 2010

Good Sports Bar And Grill Has Wireless Internet!

Photo and blog post by John Hoff

Good Sports Bar and Grill--which recently featured a "Jim Wentzell Day" celebration of revitalization and neighborhood volunteerism--just recently got their wireless internet up and running. The way it happened, actually, I was at the bar eating chicken wings with Jordan Neighborhood "super citizen" Megan Goodmundson and I was all, like, do you guys have wireless internet here at Good Sports?

The question ended up sparking a telephone conversation with their internet service provider. In no time at all, wireless internet was accessible with a password and the signal had been renamed after the bar instead of some kind of alpha-numeric lable. The first website to come up on the new, speedy, accessible internet signal was, of course, JOHNNY NORTHSIDE DOT COM.

Yes, it's true Minneapolis has wireless internet everywhere, and you can get it if you subscribe for a low monthly fee. Well, I find their signal slow and frustrating. There, I said it, and let the chips fall where they may...hopefully right next to my delicious chicken wings at Good Sports bar and grill.

(Do not click "Read More," but do be aware several chickens were harmed in the making of this blog post)

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

City Pages Makes Paul "Pamiko-Gate" Koenig A Slumlord "Supastah"

City Pages cover image, blog post by John Hoff

As this blog promised on February 11, the sinking of the property pirate vessel Paul Koenig has begun. A front page City Pages story hit the internet this afternoon, click here, and will soon be spreading the flesh of dead trees all over news stands. This will be the "cover debut" for Andy Mannix, a top notch reporter who worked for the Minnesota Daily at the same time I did. If this guy doesn't get a Pulitzer before he dies, it will most likely be from catching a bullet in the too-close-pursuit of a story about some armed conflict in a dusty foreign land. Mark my words, Mannix is bound for great things in the world of journalism...

A Star Tribune story is expected soon. Major local television stations would be well-advised to plan accordingly and--as they so often do--go chase some images and sound bites about "Pamiko-gate" in the wake of more detailed print media coverage. That's not a criticism of television stations, except maybe KSTP. Not everybody can read the whole story on a hunk of dead tree. Some people need the 30-second version.

But imagine how Paul Koenig must feel right now, somewhere in his Afton mansion with FOUR WASHING MACHINES IN THE BASEMENT. Today, Jordan Neighborhood super citizen Megan Goodmundson exchanged text messages with Paul Koenig--as she put it--"ala Remaro." (Click here for an explanation of that phrase)

Here's how the conversation went...

Megan: You're a star on citypages.com. Congrats! Baby Jesus would be proud.

Paul Koenig: Who is this?

Megan: I'm a pissed off northsider. Sitting here with johnny northside. Reading. Laughing.

Paul Koenig: Ah another man behind the curtain. Interesting how n. Mpls problem issues have increased since my departure. Obviouly (sic) I was doing something right at the time

Megan: DREAM ON DREAM HOMES! Wait til the attack dogs from the Star Trib that we sic'd on you draw blood this weekend. Baby Jesus knows the truth.

(No reply)