10/20/03’s illustrious band:

The Blue Earth Blues

Brought to you by Mother Media and me in our tireless search for the perfect hash browns.

Mother Media had spent a couple days in Sioux Falls with her sisters, my Media Aunties. When they left town Sunday morning to return home, Mother Media thought of squeezing in a visit with me. This wasn’t supposed to be possible; I had been expecting company for the weekend. Since that hadnt’ worked out, I was free. So we agreed to meet at the halfway point, the thriving metropolis of Blue Earth, MN, for Sunday brunch. I hopped into the Suave Samurai (my black Subaru, not to be confused with Sister-san’s black Subaru, the Phat Ninja) at 7 a.m. and hit the road.

We met at a golden-arched facility near the freeway to exchange gifts and make plans for finding real food. However, we quickly found ourselves facing the challenge of finding a small-town restaurant without a drive-thru that was open on a Sunday morning. It took several minutes of cruising around with Mother at the wheel and me on the cell phone calling various establishments.

Someone at the fourth or fifth place on the list finally answered the phone and confirmed that they were open for brunch. Living in the Big City, I’ve grown accustomed to asking whether I need a reservation, so the words slipped out before I could think the question through. The man on the phone laughed and said no, we didn’t need a reservation. We could just come right on over.

So we did amble right on over . . . and right on past. In a town that small, it shouldn’t be possible to hide a restaurant on Main Street, but we managed to miss it on our first pass. Once we’d located it, there was another moment’s confusion while the waiter/busboy/host tried to remember where the nonsmoking section was. Then we got down to serious diner business.

Except for the teenaged staff and me, Mother Media was the youngest person in the building by a good 15 years, and most of them had just come from church. In polyester-free ensembles of T-shirts and jeans, we felt a trifle underdressed, but we figured our out-of-town status gave us a good excuse.

The drinks were interesting. I got a warm, flat Dr. Pepper, and Mother Media’s coffee had been brewed with water hard enough to curdle the creamer. The food was fine, though. More than fine, actually; after polishing off my biscuits and gravy, scrambled eggs and hash browns, I didn’t eat anything else that day except for a brownie.

After eating and looking at pictures, we decided we’d finish our chat outdoors in the glorious weather and set off in search of a park. The sky was a perfect autumn blue, not to be wasted. Also, Mother had a few pictures left on her camera, and you know what that means.

Again, you wouldn’t think the town could conceal a whole park from us, but it did. We saw one sign for Industrial Park, but that wasn’t the kind we were looking for. We saw another for a park boasting a hiking/biking trail, which sounded perfect for a late morning stroll. However, we found nothing but a lumpy field beside the road. There was no parking area, no picnic tables, and certainly no trails that we could see. We wandered around in the weeds for a while, bemused, but were soon driven away by bugs.

Mother Media had to begin her long drive home at that point, so we parted ways. Not sure when whether we’ll meet up again before Christmas. I just hope next time is as fun and nutritious as yesterday was.

Super congratulations to the Flaxmaster for winning second prize in the Tide All-American Soccer Family Contest! I thought her entry, consisting of a fantastic family photo and a brief essay composed in verse, deserved the grand prize. Flaxmaster just barely missed out on that $30,000 scholarship for one of her soccer-playing sons, and on the first prize of a brand new washer and dryer. However, she did receive a certified letter from Tide and a soccer gear bag valued at $70. Score!

E-mail the Media Sensation: BandNameoftheDay@hotmail.com

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