As I have mentioned in the past, I have several short-term goals relating to new experiences and skills. I have made progress on some of those topics, such as snowboarding, but others have been heretofore stalled.

Several weeks ago, Mutak informed me of a casual roller hockey club in the Twin Cities. I found the prospects of a relaxed atmosphere to learn hockey appealing but had some reservations about potentially making a fool of myself. My hockey experience is practically nonexistent, and I don’t like being bad at something, especially in public. However, I finally accepted that there is no way to get good at something without first being bad at it. Learning new physical activities won’t get any easier as I age, in fact the contrary is most likely, therefore I made the decision last week to get involved with hockey.

I became, as Mutak so eloquently phrased it, “fiscally vested” in the sport following several trips to local sporting goods retailers. Properly equipped, I headed to the arena on Thursday night, expecting to play an informal game with the rest of the club. I was somewhat surprised to find only three other people at the rink, especially since there were no less than a score present when I stopped by weeks earlier to check things out. In hindsight, the lack of people was a benefit: I had plenty of space to skate around and only limited potential for embarrassment. It was fun, and I look forward to doing it again, although I hope more people show up.

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So, after that little soiree, I decided to purchase a start fruit. “Star-what?” you say? Star fruit. It vaguely resembles a football, is about the size of a pear, and has deep ridges that run the length of the fruit. When cut across the longitudinal axis, the halves have a profile in the shape of a five-point star.

When I set out, I originally wanted to buy a passion fruit. Unfortunately, passion fruit must not be in season, since Byerly’s did not stock them. Hence, I swung towards another fruit I had never tried, the aforementioned star fruit. I made the purchase ($4.00 for one star fruit. Yikes!) and brought it home, cradling it in my lap, lest it be bruised by a rapid turn or stop.

Once at my abode, I carefully rinsed and dried the fruit, cut it into slices, and took a bite. The taste was… anticlimactic. It tasted somewhat tart, with a thin skin and firm yet yielding texture. In fact, it tasted almost exactly like a Granny Smith apple. Yup, an apple, except it had that neat star shape. Man, was that ever a let-down. Here I was, expecting some sort of zen fruit experience, and all I get is an expensive, star-shaped apple. Live and learn, I guess. Despite the star fruit disappointment, I am still keen on finding and trying a passion fruit. Surely, with a name like “passion fruit,” it must be utopian.

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In a previous post, I claimed Lincoln Park is a peer to Minneapolis’ Uptown. Mutak refuted this idea in a comment (though ironically he caused the comparison in the first place, thanks to a discussion at Kahn’s). I responded in the same comment thread, defending Uptown as trendy, affluent, and clean. However, the exchange got me thinking, so I took a quick trip to Uptown to reassure myself that it exists in reality as it does in my memory.

With that quick jaunt and my stay in Lincoln Park still fresh in mind, I would like to alter my Uptown defense with several caveats. Yes, Uptown is nice, but the really nice parts are between Lake and Lagoon along Hennepin. No, Uptown is nowhere near the size of Lincoln Park, neither in acreage nor building height. I concede that Uptown is more ‘bohemian’ than Lincoln Park, but I don’t see that as a fault, but rather as a different expression of character. One similarity between the two neighborhoods that I failed to mention before is the absence of parking space. So, in conclusion, Uptown is not a Lincoln Park wannabe, but it’s the closest thing Minneapolis has to a trendy city locality.