Shocking fake news about the mayor revealed!
So it's a new year and there's a feeling of renewal draped over the Twin Ports like that invigorating stink that cloaks Cloquet every spring. Only this is better because it's a feeling of hope. And it's not Cloquet. This sense of optimism pervades our every port because of Duluth's new mayor, Emily Larson. I wanted to talk with her about how things are going, but her demanding schedule got in the way. In fact, her assistant told me the only time she'd have available to talk with someone like me was when Hell froze over.
Well, I can't wait for the Vikings to win the Super Bowl, so instead I'll debut my new recurring column idea: Fake Interviews. Every few weeks, I'll pretend to sit down with the movers and shakers of our region and ask them specific, pointed questions that are guaranteed to solicit totally fabricated answers. I hope you like it. If you don't, just flip back a few pages and re-read Larry Weber's column about birch tree spiders.
MY FAKE INTERVIEW WITH SHE-WHO-IS-NOT-DON-NESS-SO-QUIT-WHINING-ABOUT-IT, DULUTH MAYOR EMILY LARSON
It was a lovely December afternoon as I waited for Mayor Larson. I was a little surprised she insisted on meeting at Glensheen Mansion, but since she recently relocated all of City Hall to this stately manor, I suppose it made sense. When she finally entered the room, she was accompanied by her freshly-instituted mayoral three-piece mariachi band. I believe they were playing Duluth's new city song, "Tequila," but I couldn't be sure as I was distracted by the mayor's novel approach to staying above the political fray: Riding her Duluth Mayoral Hoverboard.
ME: So, Mayor Larson ...
MAYOR: Up here, wing-ding.
ME: What? Oh, yes. Uh, thanks for agreeing to this fake interview ...
MAYOR: Can we speed this up? The official Duluth Masseuse is comin' in at 3:00.
ME: I wanted to talk about a couple of things in your new city budget ...
MAYOR: Mmm hmmm.
ME: ... but it's a bit challenging ...
MAYOR: I'm sure.
ME: ... because I'm getting a neck cramp. Can you come down off that hoverboard?
MAYOR: Look, pal. This isn't MY hoverboard, OK? It's Duluth's Hoverboard. I'd be doin' the taxpayers of this city a disservice if I didn't ride it.
ME: Fine. But can't you at least come down to my level?
MAYOR: The settings don't go that low.
And with that, Mayor Larson flew away, flicking cigar ashes into an expensive Ming vase on her way out the door. The ashes would be easy to clean up, however, as the mariachi band smashed the vase to the floor scurrying to keep up.
Don’t miss Brian's next exciting Fake Interview as Larry Weber discusses tamarack wood ticks!