Two On The Shore

The title is for Tischer and I being back on the shore of Lake Superior and stoked for adventure from our new home in Grand Marais, Minn. We are Two on The Shore.

You can find me at Lutsen Resort as their new Director of Activities & Recreation, a role that I am extremely excited about.

This winter is shaping up to be a busy one between some freelance writing opportunities, an adventure film to work on, and a stream skiing project I've undertaken with another buddy.

Also check out the kayak expedition I completed with a good friend in 2010 (www.superiordream.com).







Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Fun is Discouraged


This is what happens to a crowd when a representative is sent to the General Admission section to inform you that the stadium is in fact a "No Wave" stadium. Seriously.


Tuesday night Zeb (my brother) and I joined Britta, Laura, and Joe at the St. Paul Saints All-Star game. We paid our five hard-earned dollars to saddle up in GA with fellow baseball enthusiasts. About halfway through the game we started to try to incite the wave from our far out section back to the grandstand. After a few attempts we were close and excitement was growing. That's when she appeared.


A stadium attendant showed up in front of us telling us we needed to cease our wave efforts. Various flagrant responses rained out from us in the stands. Because "we are a no-wave stadium," she stated. More flagrant and harsh words greeted her declaration, obviously unaware that this was a family game. 20 oz Summits couldn't have helped at this point.


She offered to go and get "Superfan" to come and lead us in some cheers. When a few brave souls tried testing her she didn't hesitate to let us know she has the authority to kick us right on out of the game. After she finally departed, an officer of the St. Paul Police Department joined us for the remainder of the game.


Regardless of this bull-crap restriction, the game was a great time. A sweet fire works show afterwards rivaled the show from this past 4th of July. Also in attendance was Bill Murray, who owns the Saints. Needless to say I spent more than 45 minutes screaming "Hey Big Ern!" in his direction, referencing his character Ernie McCrackin in the film King Pin. We made it over to the grandstand after the game for the show in the sky and Britta actually made hand contact with him for nearly 30 seconds while hanging over the dugout railing. She passed along a few "What about Bob" lines to which he appeared to enjoy. Then she told him which bar we were heading to afterwards. Bill's reply: "I'll see what I can do."


We drank more Summit. Shot some stick. Despite our high hopes, he never showed.

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