Barbeque in North Minneapolis Suburb Leads to Introspection About Obsessive Behavior

We had a fun time with Angela, Gretchen, Mindy, Matt, Dave, Natalie, and others at Krys's house last night. Krys was a super host, and had prepared a wonderful feast, including the always-delicious grilled corn and a tasty sangria.

For some reason, the topic of obsessions was broached, and we decided to play a game where each of us would write down our top ten obsessions, and then everyone else would try to guess what they were. I initially objected to the game on principle, because the term "obsession" seems so unhealthy. In addition, many of the obsessions discussed to that point seemed to be centered around material things, and I really don't think of myself as a great buyer or wanter of things. And, if so, I didn't think I could come up with ten of them. Once I began making the list, however, the items started to come easily. In fact, I ended up with 11 of them (number 11, "Clothing made of linen," was added at Shad's insistence during the guessing period). I still refuse to call them "obsessions," but here is my list of things I really, really like (in no particular order).

1. Books & reading
2. Food & cooking
3. Sewing
4. Email
5. Skirts, particularly knee-length and just-below-the-knee (in fact, the length is probably the part that I obsess about)
6. White pants
7. Fancy coffee drinks, (mainly one fancy coffee drink, the mocha latte, and its variations)
8. Quilts, quilting, and big colorful books featuring pictures of quilts
9. Making purses out of weird things
10. Wine
11. Clothing made out of linen

During events following the game, I was accused of having left out a few obsessions. For example, when a certain someone who will remain nameless spilled red wine on Angela's white pants, and I immediately called out for Oxy Clean, it was pointed out that this product is somewhat of an obsession. I also concede that my accumulation of new and vintage fabrics, embroidered handkerchiefs, and scarves is probably an obsession. And, OK, apostrophes. I should have listed apostrophes. But that's it. Really.

On our way home from Krys's house, we saw a huge fire in downtown Robbinsdale. Despite concerns that it would be civic-ly irresponsible to drive closer and gawk, we drove to a nearby parking lot and joined the mass of people staring at it. It really was amazing, and it felt oddly romantic as we stood there with our arms around each other watching the thing burn. It was a commercial building, and the firefighters weren't even fighting it. They were dousing the side of the house next to it with water as the building burned. We found that curious and learned from other onlookers that the fire was actually a training exercise for the local fire department, and that the building had been abandoned. That made the whole thing a little less exciting, though I was glad to know that our gawking and amusement was not at the expense of someone else's well-being. (Actually, this was also an interesting study on how rumors are spread. One person said, "It was an abortion clinic," a second person said, "They started the fire on purpose." Things were getting juicy! Then came the information that it was an abandoned building, possibly a clinic, no one really knew, and that it was being purposely destroyed). It was fascinating to watch the building burn and collapse. We kept wanting to walk away, but couldn't make ourselves do it. One might say we had become obsessed with watching the building's demise.