I’d been to Minneapolis once before, but never in cold weather. It struck me that if you’d never been here in cold weather, you hadn’t really seen the place as it truly was.

So things couldn’t have looked or felt more perfect as I sailed up Hiawatha Avenue on the way from the airport on my way to the Holiday Inn Express where I was to stay for a month. Hiawatha, I thought, perfect. I even crossed Minnehaha Parkway.

I was surrounded by tall empty trees, snow and half-frozen lakes. It felt perfect.

My Mary Tyler Moore reverie was only interrupted when I realized that I couldn’t find my exit to Interstate 35W northbound. Actually I saw what was clearly the exit for it, but it was blocked off and the sign obscured. After a couple of further attempts, a lightbulb went off.

After successfully negotiating the detour, I finally found my way to the hotel.

“I’m just guessing that it was the 35W bridge that fell into the river last year, right?”

A moose-like nod indicated I was indeed correct.
“You know, ” I said, dripping the charm for which I am internationally unknown, “that would be a great thing to mention to out-of-state guests when they call to make a reservation, considering the bridge is right between the airport and your hotel.”

One more thing. As I approached the hotel, I realized it couldn’t have more perfectly blended in with the surroundings. In other words, it looks like a grain elevator.