|Not to Rome|
All of these have a bit of I35 maptraversion and sidestreet innuendo and all are way more composed/thematic than what I’ve been up to. When all is quiet in the office I can hear that curious hollow hum of traffic heading towards the Mississippi or south to Albert Lea. Same sound of a faraway highway you can hear on many farms. Or from across a lake. I was rehearsing for a Fringe show on August 1, 2007 when the I35 bridge collapsed during rush hour. Because 35 is a major artery for commuters, thousands of people had just or were just about to cross when it dropped; on that day, Dawn, who had to cross that bridge to come home, went in another direction to pick up a “Minnesotans Against Being Shot” t-shirt for me to wear while performing my rant about needing a gun.