Real Housewives of the Twin Cities

This would probably make any realtor cringe. The idea that, for some, home-buying is a beauty contest draped in stately homes, manicured lawns, a little red school house for precious cherubs and a blissful existence for any and all who enter its realm. This is in line with the preachings of The Journal of Consumer Affairs which ranks (tongue stuck in cheek) the ‘best places to live’ around the country. Their curated list, in turn, ranks in the same category as the home-buying philosophy found in Money Magazine, People Magazine, and YouTube videos.

Anyone and everyone, with their own vested interest, can tell you where the best place to live might be. The reality is that home-buying is often a game in which it’s the best façade that wins in terms of pedigree, history, desirable zip codes and the illusion that says once there, ‘you’ve arrived.’

It seems as if Lakeville wants to be the new Edina. Edina wants to keep its crown while the outlier suburbs want a piece of that action too. Highland Park has kept its panache and St. Louis Park seems to want theirs back by rebranding itself ‘Westapolis.’ Then there are other communities like Burnsville who wonder what happened to their once esteemed status in the greater pecking order of ‘I have arrived’ homes. Minnetonka Beach seems to have grabbed that title from them for now.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I understand the ‘hype.’ I live in California half the year and certainly get it in terms of presenting the best home-buying package possible. Yet, it’s been interesting to watch what’s happening with home-buying in the Twin Cities? It used to be so clear and simple. Where you lived was often determined by proximity to jobs, schools, retail and entertainment. While that equation hasn’t changed its coat of many colors, the real estate lexicon has evolved with the times.

I’ve been out of the real estate game for some time now but my interest hasn’t diminished over the years. With the miles traveled, it’s often interesting, amusing and at times perplexing to me to see what the current market is like. It seems that what’s old is new again and current trends often reflect past events, only with new costumes and ‘hot’ labels instead.

When my family first moved to Apple Valley in the late Seventies, it was Burnsville that held the title as the fastest growing community south of the river. It had great schools, brand new housing developments and a thriving commercial component.

Apple Valley was no slouch itself but was still in its infancy, having just been newly minted Apple Valley from its old moniker of Lebanon Township. My, how times have changed. The city now boasts a large collection of apartments, condominiums and senior housing at its core and leafy large lot homes surrounding downtown.

Back then, South of Apple Valley was only farm land. Rosemount, Lakeville, and Farmington were still tiny hamlets only connected by narrow two-lane blacktop roads.

Out west, Eden Prairie was just starting to grow as an alternative to the western suburbs that nestled around Lake Minnetonka. Wayzata, Orono and others were still relatively untouched by growth and development.

Now Lakeville has claimed its title as the place to be with its higher end homes, two high schools, growing retail outlets and plenty of land to develop.

Unfortunately, the removal of all ‘inclusion posters’ in its schools because a few parents want them gone doesn’t speak well of its inclusionary façade. It would almost seem as if they don’t want ‘those people infecting their tony communities.’ Lake Elmo seems to have suffered from the same malaise. Which is an interesting juxtaposition since the quality of the school district still seems to be the prevailing number one factor on what young families are looking for in their new address.

From my perch as an outsider for six months out of the year, I’m not influenced by the daily weather conditions, traffic jams, political charades, brain-numbing newscasts and other distractions from what’s really happening in my hometown. To be clear, I love Minnesota and wouldn’t want to live anyplace else. But it isn’t all ‘puff and stuff’ despite what the latest housing blitz wants you to believe.

I still believe some of the best values can be found in my city’s older neighborhoods with their solid Orin Thompson build homes, large lots, easy access to parks and amenities, reliable city services and overall friendly neighbors. We don’t need ten years and mature trees to see those values, they’re already there.

In my community and others like it, there are still solid home-grown values that the new administration in D.C., outstate politicians, and ‘back to the past’ dreamers want you to believe have changed for the worst. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Even with its age-related spots, Minnesota is still full of ‘Yeah, you bet-cha’ friendly folks who will quickly lend a helping hand.  Its core values of goodness haven’t changed despite the rhetoric and antics by some who wish otherwise. If you’re going to live anyplace, Minnesota is as good a place as any.  I’ve lived that reality all my life and so has my family.

And proud of it.

Once in a Great City

Like any living, breathing organism, cities grow and thrive and then begin to fade over time. It’s an evolutionary process that can take decades or just a couple of years. Rebirth can come in many forms and functions. Then the rebuilding process begins all over again, completing the life cycle of a city.

I read a fascinating book on the city of Detroit recently. It was a snapshot of a period from roughly fall of 1962 to spring of 1964. The author claims that period was probably the high point, the zenith of most everything we associate with that once great city. Automobiles, Motown, etc. were all destined to be reshaped, revised and reimagined in coming years.

It got me to thinking about the past twenty years when I started out as a sometimes visitor to Palm Springs and eventually evolved into a part-time resident. Palm Springs has also gone through its own metamorphosis and evolution as time gradually erased most vestiges of old Hollywood, welcomed a much larger gay population and then invited in the cool hipster set from the coast.

In its heyday, L.A. had its Sunset Strip, Chicago, its miracle mile and Detroit, its automobiles and Motown. Now Palm Springs has done them one better with its own small-town village atmosphere cloaked as a 21^st century hotspot. Throw in a summer splash party or two and it’s become a poor man’s version of ‘Caligula’ for the masses…as long as they’re preferably under thirty years of age.

Back in its glory days, Palm Springs was a classic example of heightened expectations clashing with the reality of desert star gazing. In reality it was only the well-heeled or coastal-connected that got to hang out with the stars. For the average visitor, Palm Canyon Drive was just a welcome respite from the normalcy back home even while it harbored high hopes for seeing one of their favorite stars passing by on the sidewalk. Over the last several years, even before Covid, Palm Springs had slowly begun to regain its panache.

Palm Springs is now fast becoming just about the hippest hot spot this side of Brooklyn, Silver Lake and West Hollywood. West Coast hipsters, designers, remodelers, artists, musicians and actors are all rediscovering what their forefathers knew all along. They’re finding that wrapping those warm blue pools with a healthy shot of alcohol can bring out a hedonistic nature in the best of us.

There is still something magical about the surrounding mountains, desert scape, warm winter months and hip happenings all over town. Palm Springs is now a virtual cornucopia of cultural, artistic, sensual, musical and intellectual stirrings for just about everyone from the art culture types to the more modest of minds. It all seems to be happening here.

It’s a new era for Palm Springs and I’m lucky enough to be ‘cruising along’ in the middle of it.

Old Saint Paul also went through a similar shift in population, commerce and direction. During the late fifties and early sixties, the outlying suburbs became more defined and easy to label. Highways and roadways paved easy access to more land, cheaper housing and became a mecca for younger families.

The beltway surrounding both cities used to be the demarcation line between city neighborhoods and the suburbs. Now second, third and even fourth tiered communities spread out in a fan around both core cities.

Then in the late eighties, a gradual shift in population began from the suburbs back to the cities. The golden horizon, that was once the suburbs, had become too distant for many and commuters tired of their daily grind into the city. At that point, older long time neighborhoods began to grow a sheen of their own and began to attract young couples eager to raise their kids in the cities.

This was partnered with a growing interest on the part of younger generations to embrace what their parents and grandparents had left behind. Whether it meant easy access to transportation, commerce, jobs, education, and other amenities, they found it nearby instead of over the horizon.

Closer to home, Apple Valley has also grown up and out over the years. The initial concept of mini town centers changed to a central core of businesses and amenities surrounded by new as well as original neighborhoods.

Apple Valley is a third ring suburb that has matured and slowed its growth just as its neighbors to the east, Rosemount, and the south, Lakeville; continue their expansion because of available land for development.

While Sharon and I weren’t here at its inception, we’ve been a part of the Apple Valley scene since 1977. That was less than ten years after it was incorporated from Lebanon Hills Township to the city of Apple Valley. We witnessed the transformation of farm fields to housing, an old airport to a Super Target, city hall moving twice, a gravel pit into a Regional County Government Center and too many other civic metamorphosis to count.

In a very real sense, we are the second generation following the pioneers who farmed the crops and sold their farms to the developers. Like my old Saint Paul neighborhood and Sharon’s farm down in Wabasha, we left our birthplace behind for the horizon ahead and never looked back. Along the way, it’s been an education watching our hometowns and the world change and evolve around us.

Town and Country

Apple Valley seems to have the best of both worlds; town and a bit of country thrown in for good measure. There’s a variety of housing options from townhomes, row houses, Co-op Housing, apartments and condominiums. New York City it’s not, and that’s a good thing.

The on-going debate, discussion, and smack-talk about the benefits of living in the city verses the suburbs has been around forever. Comparisons between city living and countrified-gentility have been bantered about in newspapers and magazines since the great Western expansion of the 1700s.

As a third-tier suburb, Apple Valley shares the same amenities as most other suburbs with its housing, shopping, limited entertainment and employment opportunities. What it can brag about are some special assets not found in most other suburbs. Valleywood, our own golf course, The Minnesota Zoo, Lebanon Hills Regional Park and so much more.

Within easy driving distance are a whole host of other attractions aimed at a variety of patrons. Cross the Cedar Avenue Bridge and an entirely different world unfolds. Beginning with the Mall of American and a quick escape along 494, there is an abundance of attractions calling in either direction. You can venture west to the western suburbs and Lake Minnetonka or roll down 35W and downtown Minneapolis is at your doorstep. You can also head east down old Fort Road toward downtown Saint Paul in the distance.

Some might argue that there is more mental stimulation in the city verses a more suburban environment. Opportunities certainly seem more abundant among the high rise set rather than tract homes inhabitants. And the variety of attractions can’t be beat.

Certainly the city, any city, is a great melting pot of sights and sounds and smells and adrenaline rush. Cities remain a great gathering spot for sharing information and ideas. There are ton of activities to do.

But now in the year of COVID-19, the internet has proven to be the great equalizer in workforce contributions, education, shopping, etc. The ‘working from home’ phenomena have proven that employees don’t have to be clustered in some high rise building downtown to be productive and team players. Apple Valley is fortunate in that it has old but solid housing stock as well as new.

For many of us, the perfect place to live is in a more country-like setting but close enough to town that one can survive without a car. It’s still possible to live in the suburbs without a car with bus, Uber, Lyft and bicycles taking up the slack. It’s a challenge but it’s doable.

You look out your window each morning and see what some people from the city drive for hours to enjoy.  It really is the best of both worlds

Coming Home Again

Springtime in Apple Valley is the best. Although recently my wife and I have been able to escape the cold and ice of past winters, we haven’t forgotten our early morning commutes after wrapping our kids in layers and shoving them out the door for school. Happy memories; yes and no.

But springtime holds a special place in my heart. It means running and biking outside without multiple layers, head wrap and gloves. It means yard work in the sun and working up a sweat. It means long walks in the woods at Lebanon Hills Regional Park and escapes along the river. It’s early morning coffee on the porch and listening to the birds having breakfast all around me. It’s savoring in all the benefits, charm, and pleasantries of living in such a nice community of friends and neighbors.

However, my Back Pages tell another story. Fantasy images from my youth now come true; at least in my imagination.

Southern California has become my great playground where I can ignore creeping age and continue doing fun things snow-bound seniors can’t do back home. I like the crazy, creative, eccentric, unapologetic far-out types who inhabit a lot of my regular haunts there.

Sharon has found a cadre of fellow artists willing to try new painting techniques and share both their success and failures with her. It is her ‘new thing’ and it suits her to a T in the desert.

For both of us, it’s warm winter nights that nurture creative thoughts and ideas bursting on paper. It’s ocean and mountains and out of the way places that Minnesota can’t offer. It’s a playground for those of us still in total denial of life’s fading curtain.

Yet for all that California has to offer, it still isn’t Minnesota. A lot of folks have a special place in their hearts for where they were born. My affiliation runs deeper than that.

It was born of an early morning below-zero paper route, a high school steeped in military tradition and a lake that mimicked the ocean if only in my imagination. It was hard times and healthy living. It was growing up in a world shaped by basic values and an appreciation for hard work. It was dreamed-about opportunities limited only by the extent of one’s imagination.

Minnesota is where I found stability and a healthy foundation upon which to lay down my roots. It was where we raised our children and now watch some of our grandchildren grow. It has become a hundred million other impressions that nudged and pricked and scratched and broke through my memory bank.

For as much as I love California’s fast pace and changing emotional scenery, it is still Minnesota that brings me back to reality. Both places offer Sharon and I wonderful friendships, a boatload of memories and creative ventures. But Minnesota also offers us something else. History that is all good.

I was born of the tundra. And though I avoid the snow and cold as much as I can, it is still in my blood. I don’t know where I’ll write my final draft whether it be in the surf or in the snow. But it doesn’t matter. There really is no contest.

Minnesota is a good place to be from and a good place to be.

District #196

One of the favorite pitches that realtors love to give prospective home buyers is the quality of the local school district. In the case of district 196, it was certainly true. For despite all of the normal drama and trauma that goes on behind the scenes in education, the district has proved its worth over the years and certainly for my two kids.

Mind you, it wasn’t always a perfect place for students or educators alike. Unfortunately there were a number of kids back then as now who didn’t fit into the system and got lost along the way. There were also a few teachers who should have been digging ditches instead of wasting my children’s time in the classroom. I was always amazed at my kid’s abilities to see through the BS that passed for a teacher’s interest in them and knew those teachers were just taking up space at the head of the classroom.

But overall, both teachers and administrators alike, at least back in my time, were devoted to the betterment of my kids. That’s all that counted in Sharon’s and my mind.

Both my wife and I are just a bit fanatical about the importance of education in a young person’s life. It was always non-negotiable issue with us. I went to Cretin High School when it was strictly an all-male military school. Sharon went to St. Felix, a Catholic High School in Wabasha, Minnesota. Both institutions were excellent breeding grounds for academic-hungry young students’ eager to make their way into the world.

I had to laugh when my old classmates from Cretin would question why I sent my kids to Apple Valley schools instead of Cretin or Visitation. I simply told them that Apple Valley schools were very good and that was good enough for me. Enough said. I was right.

We believed then and still do today that parental involvement was one of the keys to our kid’s success in school. We practiced it and our kids knew it. Sharon and I went to every teacher-parent conference from the first one in first grade to the last one senior year.

Brian was very fortunate in his education, excelling at sports, arts and academia.

Melanie did the same.  Each had their own areas of interest and we’re so grateful they found their place and themselves in those academic, athletic and artistic environments.

Both our kids were tested in ways I hadn’t imagined.

Melanie called us one night at 3:00 in the morning. She was in Lexington, Kentucky at a state Speech and Debate tournament. She had gotten sick from something she ate and was throwing up and nauseous. What to do? She was supposed to debate that morning at 9:00am. We told her she had to decide whether to go ahead or not but we encouraged her to give it a try. She said she couldn’t let the team down. So she got up early, dusted herself off and took home with an award.

Brian was in his senior year of wrestling. It was the state tournament and he was slated to wrestle an outstanding young man from Sibley High School that had gone unbeaten all season. Brian gutted it out and won the match….because he believed he could.

Both our kids believed they could do whatever they put their minds to. They learned that in the trenches of Apple Valley High School. I’m sure there are many other stories just as inspiring from every other school in the #196 system. That’s what a good education can do for your mind and your body.

There always seem to be rumbling about the schools of our past as compared to the ones today.  Changing demographics, newer schools, social and culture changes are constantly evolving and reconfiguring the educational landscape. Despite these ever-evolving changes, I suspect that District 196, despite its normal flaws and fallacies, is still a good breeding ground for those students who are able to grasp the opportunities there.

It certainly was back in the day when the District graduated our own two citizens of the world.