There goes the Neighborhood

Now that U.S. Representative Martin Olav Sabo has decided 27 years is enough, there has been a mad scramble for his seat. Whoever gets the endorsement at the Minnesota DFL convention May 6^th will also win the primary, because the major candidates have been declaring they will step aside and support the party’s pick. It makes sense, because the ‘Crats don’t want to waste resources fighting amongst themselves.

    Whoever wins the primary, will the general election of course. The Fifth Congressional District in MN is basically

Minneapolis

and a few suburbs. My PoliSci 1001 teacher went so far as to say the Republicans could run Jesus the Resurrected Christ and Sabo would still get his usual 70% election returns.

    But even more interestingly, a local ‘Crat blogger pointed out that whoever wins the Democratic primary effectively becomes the de facto leader of the Minnesota DFL. It is a safe seat, and so whoever wins has a national position for life.

     I’ve met one of the stronger candidates. Minneapolis City Council President Paul Ostrow always came to my neighborhood homeowner’s association meetings when I was a member of the board. He sat next to me a few times, and he was chatty and a likable enough guy.  It was his first term as a Councilman. It just reinforces my notion that a person doesn’t have to go too far out of the way to effect change. If I had been more interested then—almost ten years ago—maybe I’d be better placed and more influential now.

    But I wasn’t very interested. I just thought it would be fun to play neighborhood activist. When I moved into my current home on Halloween of 1997, I was quite young for a home owner- 23 years old. I started going to the community meetings at the local park building, and before I knew it I was elected to a two-year term on the board. For the first year I took my duties very seriously. I attended all the meetings, and I even helped organize a dedication for the new sculpture at the local park.

    But my attention waned, especially after I wasn’t considered for the full time “Neighborhood Organizer” position. Eventually I started attending the neighborhood meetings at the local park building less and less, and the just-as-lively neighborhood meetings local pub building more and more. I stopped showing up altogether, and worse, I stopped returning phone calls. And worse.

    One board member who had been particularly kind, albeit in a pedagogic way, even left a note on my door. Something about “THIS IS AN URGENT ATTEMPT TO CONTACT BJORN. WE’RE WORRIED. AND HOW’S YOUR DOG?” I ignored that too, and when I ran into her a few years later, I apologized. She was upset, and I don’t think she ever forgave me.

   I just had a meeting with the Minneapolis City Planner earlier this week because I want to split my double lot into two parcels. It turns out I’ll have to go hat in hand to my former colleagues. I sure hope the rest of the board has forgiven me, or even better, forgotten me.