Hillary, Angie and Me

A couple of weeks ago I went  to an art event in Northeast Minneapolis. It was late, the night was bitterly cold and my lair was warm and friendly... but all that love and home cooking was rattling my wolfish nature.

When I arrived at the large, trendy building housing the art event, I discovered the place was packed with people I'd never seen before. I used to know everyone around here, but the art community has swollen in the past 10 years.

Without anyone to talk to, I amused myself by standing beside a refreshment table and watching some  people admire each other's outfits.  The spectacle of their interaction was quite entertaining: Minnesotans dress in fantastic and colorful garb at winter art events. It's one way to fight the torpor induced by endless darkness and cold.

Suddenly a stylish woman walked up to me and said, "Hi. You don't know me but I Iove your paintings."

"Thanks," I said.

"You have such a wild imagination," she said.

"Yes I do," I said.

"I'd love to be you for just one day," she said. "It must be so exciting with all those brilliant ideas flying around in your head."

"Yup, sometimes I feel like a regular air traffic controller of brilliant ideas," I said.

"I'd also love to be Angelina Jolie for just one day," she said.

"Angelina Jolie," I said.

"Or Hillary Clinton," she said. "Except Brad Pitt is much cuter than Bill Clinton, don't you think?"

"I haven't really thought about it," I said.

"Do you ever want to be someone else besides you?" she said.

"Yes," I said. "Sometimes I do."