Growing Up Then and Now

Susan Johnson

The end of my thinking myself polyamorous came upon meeting Susan (Suzy) Johnson.  I pretty much fell in love on our first meeting.  After lunch at the Longfellow Grill, we walked down by the river (the Mississippi) and sitting on a boat dock, her to my left, both gazing rightward towards the sun, I looked back at her, gorgeous in her sunglasses, and I thought, OMG she’s lovely.  Our second date, meeting at Gold Medal Park, we held hands walking across the Stone Arch Bridge, and when I put my arm around her waist, I said, “We’re a pretty nice fit.”  Our third date was an outdoor concert at Crooner’s Bar, where we left our seats and started dancing outside the tent where no one would notice us.  On the way home we stopped at a deserted beach and kissed under the moonlight.  A month later we took a trip down to Alma, Wisconsin and made love for the first time.  Two months after that we spent a week in Atlanta campaigning for Warnock and Ossoff.  I could go on and on.

We met on Green Singles (of course).  She had recently quit the dating sites – too many scammers, but Green Singles was continuing to send photos of people who had expressed interest in messaging with her.  She says it was my eyes that caught her attention, and that I lived in Saint Paul (her town too), and that I was so open about myself, including giving my name – one she recognized from my time in politics.  “Okay,” she thought, “maybe I’ll try again,” – and popped for the $11.97 it cost to message me back.On her profile (photo above), I liked her smile, her long hair, her pose sitting on her porch, plus she lived in Saint Paul – certainly worth a try.  Of course, just being pretty and shapely is never enough.  Soon I got to know her values, her politics, her sunny disposition, her self-confidence, her openness, her being curious, and mostly what a decent, solid individual she was – not someone who was going to be dependent on me for anything except bringing joy into her life.  She was kind to animals – my mom always said that’s a good way to judge people.  Later I got to know her two adult children – nice kids!  Clearly, she’d done a good job raising them.

Suzy likes spontaneity.  We have similar interests.   We like doing things together, especially reading books out loud to each other, traveling, and just being out about town.  She even has become a Twins fan and a fantasy football fan!  I like that she’s an artist and has had a career being a social worker in the Minneapolis public schools.  Plus, there’s just enough of a “bad girl” part to her.   What’s not to like!

caption:  Suzy’s painting of Alma, Wisc. – where we first made love

And guess what, we haven’t had a fight, nary a shouting match, in the 30 months we’ve known each other.  Our one disagreement was over whether the death penalty could ever be appropriate.

Best of all, I opened my heart to her!  That was an amazing experience, letting myself be open to loving someone and feeling no doubts about it.  The turning point to becoming so much in love happened this way:

She got invited into the female Bluebirds’ book club, and I thought, “Oh Geez, now that she’s tight with my friends for over 40 years, I have to do right by her, or I’ll be on the outs with the ladies of the world.  I better be honest and sure about what’s happening.”  It took a little while until I realized it was just as simple as truly opening up your heart*.  I love you Susan Johnson!

*Truly opening up your heart – what is that all about?  Maybe lots of men know this, but I want to try to explain it to myself.  It’s not that you love somebody because they are attractive.  It’s not that you enjoy being with that person – not any of those kinds of things. And for me, it was not about making a commitment, not about making yourself vulnerable.

Instead, for me, it’s when you quit thinking about maybe eventually needing an exit strategy; it’s when you quit worrying you might hurt her/him if it doesn’t work out; it’s just as simple as saying to yourself, “I’m going to open up my heart.”

Suzy has been my rock through some hard times.  My son Jack has had a tough go with his mental outlook for a while now, but slowly, hopefully, he’s getting better.  I’ve needed Suzy’s shoulder to cry on, and she’s been there; getting Jack better has been all consuming and Suzy’s been understanding.  That’s even more what love’s about.  Lucky to have met you, Susan Johnson!

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Well, that’s it, folks!  The end of my Tributes to My Many Friends.  How things turn out with Suzy will have to wait until the next time I sit down to write memoirs – but I’m not worried about it.

If you stay tuned, tomorrow I start my Rumpkins novel, a golden-years romance, a travel adventure ensnared in a murder mystery, about seven Minnesotans in search of themselves, in search of their country – looking for a better body politic. Following the novel, I have a series of stories titled “Growing Up, Then and Now, A Father’s Stories for His Sons.”

 

Greer McSpadden

caption:  that’s Greer on the right

I met Greer McSpadden through an on-line dating service.  In Minnesota it was called “Green Singles,” and although it contained the exact same folks for possible future romances, it was called “Spiritual Singles” in New Mexico.  Greer came into my life after I finished writing my “Growing Up” memoirs, so pardon my digression to say quite a bit about Greer and me.

It was a Bluebird who got me on Green Singles. I started my second time as a single person waiting in post office lines, or going grocery shopping, hoping for chance encounters.  After my dad died in 2014, we moved my mom back to Minnesota and eventually into assisted living.  I often joined her for lunch at New Perspectives on Lake Owasso.  One lunch, another son in his 60s was at the same table visiting his 90s something mother.  He says to me, “Oh man, you gotta try a dating service – I’m on ‘Plenty of Fish’ – finding lots of women in the sea who like to have fun.”

So I tried it.  One of my first dates said, “Look, let’s just be friends – but here’s some advice: “say ‘420 friendly,’ not ‘you occasionally enjoy having an illegal smile;’ and put a full body photo on your profile – I’ve had too many dates show up with only one arm or one leg.”

The next Bluebirds softball game I asked Maddy to take a photo of me while at bat.  “What are you doing?” Karen (recently divorced from Corky) asked.  After learning, she said, “Try Green Singles – that’s where I met my new guy – that site seems to have lots of high-spirited Bluebird types.”

And that’s how I met Santa Fe, New Mexico, Greer McSpadden.  Maybe the most fun thing about being on a dating site (besides seeing photos and using your imagination) is writing about yourself.  Getting Greer’s interest was almost as simple as calling myself “Mr. Politico” and describing myself as looking for someone who wanted to travel the country and volunteer on a campaign or two.

After messaging back and forth for a couple weeks, including my finding out she ran away from home in 1967 to be part of “The Summer of Love,” I proposed we meet in NYC.  Her reply: “New York City for a sex frenzy?  Wow, you are something else.  Good try lover boy, but have to pass.”

But she was okay with long-distance phone calls.  Finding a lot to like about each other, she said “Why don’t you come down here and we’ll go to work on the Deb Haaland for Congress campaign?”  (Both Greer and Deb Haaland are Native American Tribal Members, and Deb would be the first such elected to Congress.)

Thus began a four–month long first date.  What a great, great lady, what a great, great person!  Best sense of humor, the best at repartee.  After a week together, really getting to know our similar spirits, she started calling us “Clyde & Bonnie.”  We were living on the edge of a full-blossomed love affair and tearing things up wherever we went.  After two days in Albuquerque getting to know Deb Haaland on a first name basis, I said to Bonnie, aka Greer, “You know, Deb’s a shoo-in, let’s find a campaign where we can make a difference.”

“Well,” she said, “my best friend’s boyfriend in college was Drew Edmondson and he’s running for Governor in Oklahoma – plus my family is still back in Oklahoma – we can go visit them.”

“Geez,” I said, “Oklahoma’s a pretty red state, but let’s go!”  First day volunteering for Edmondson, we get pointed to the campaign of Kendra Horn running for Congress in Oklahoma City – “helping her is helping Drew.”  We show up at the Horn campaign headquarters mid-afternoon, and it appears there’s only one person in the office – Victoria – the campaign manager.  We tell Victoria, “We’re here to volunteer every day for the next three weeks.”   Kendra, so far sight unseen, but hearing us, comes racing out of a cubicle: “Every day for the next three weeks?!”

We did take one weekend off traveling to Fred’s Lounge in Mamou, Louisiana.  I’d been there once before – it’s my favorite bar in the whole world.  At 9 a.m. on a Saturday morning, the place is so packed you can’t get in the door without bumping into people dancing to Zydeco music.  The bartender, Fred’s wife, “Tanta Sue” remembers me for having brought her the N.Y. Times travel article where I first read about her place.  In fact, it’s up on the wall, next to the sign “No Dancing on the Juke Box.”  Scrawled on the ladies’ restroom door: “If you’re not having fun at Fred’s, you’re doing it wrong!”

photo captions below:  That’s our tent “Big Daddy” at the beautiful Indian Hills Campground 50 miles short of Mamou, LA.  Next morning we’re dancing in Fred’s Lounge.

Up to this point, Oklahoma City had not elected a Democrat to Congress since 1974, and Kendra was a considerable underdog, but we went to work, door-knocking in the suburbs saying Kendra and Drew would be stronger voices for education.  Thirteen days before the election, Kendra and her opponent – a gun manufacturing incumbent Republican – have a debate.  “Clyde & Bonnie” are sitting in the fifth row.  Double-handedly, we turn the debate into a raucous one, getting front page coverage and our picture in the paper.

caption:  can you find Clyde & Bonnie?

All the sudden everybody in Oklahoma City knows about the race, what’s at stake, and volunteers start turning out in droves for Kendra.  On our way out of town, heading to Texas, to get a Beto O’Rourke lawn sign for the CRV’s back window, Victoria calls, “Thank you guys so much!  Couldn’t have done it without you!”

Indeed, Kendra won in an upset.  Drew came close but lost.  By then we had become good friends with Drew too – and two years later Greer and I went to his campaign reunion party.  (Yes, I’m about to tell you how our love affair went on for another three years, trying to keep it short.)

As we continued our first date travels, visiting friends throughout the Southwest and onto California, I began writing stories about the adventures of Clyde & Bonnie to my friends back home, saying, “… still having fun, still under budget, and still in love.”  In fact, Green Singles posted our story (the one I wrote) on its dating site as one of its “success stories.”  You can still find it there, googling Green Singles and scrolling down to Success Stories, looking for “How Bonnie & Clyde Met”.  You don’t have to pay to get there.  Doing that means I can shorten up this story about me & Bonnie:

caption:  Bonnie & Clyde’s Green Singles Success Story shot

1.) Maybe one of our worst nights/best stories was on the drive from Santa Barbara to San Francisco.  We saw a sign for $8 campsites on the beach.  We drove “Hiawatha,” our name for Greer’s CRV, on sand all the way to the end of the beach; pitched “Big Daddy,” our tent, in a wind storm; managed to prep a quick meal; and turned in.  Darkness fell, and suddenly we started hearing loud engine noises all around us.  Peeping out, we realized we’d pitched our tent in the middle of a dune buggy racetrack!  And we were at the pinnacle with dozens of dune buggies making U-turns right around our tent!  We couldn’t leave without getting run over.

2.) We spent New Year’s Eve in San Francisco watching Elizabeth Warren announce for President on the Rachel Maddow show – both deciding we’d likely end up volunteering for her shortly.

3.) We ended our four-month date spending two weeks with Mike Whalen (see his Tribute above) in Playa Zipolite, Mexico, my all-time favorite beach.  It’s a south-facing beach at the very tip bottom of Mexico.  You get sunrises (bobbing between mountain tops) in the east and sunsets (through caverns) in the west.  You can see whales breaching from your hammock.  It’s clothing optional.  The lifeguards are also the pot dealers (and do the little policing needed).  A clean room is only $20 a night.  For more about that great beach either click <Here> or go to Archives and read “My Trip to See Mike in Mexico.”

caption:  Playa Zipolite Beach

4.) Once state-side, Greer returned home, back to Santa Fe, and me to Saint Paul, both of us going to work on the Warren campaign.  Meanwhile, we had an understanding that living so far away from each other meant we weren’t committed to being monogamous.

5.) While working the Warren campaign, we took time for trysts in Chicago, the Upper Peninsula, and one to Walden Pond.

6.) By the time of our last get-together, visiting Paul Ogren (see Steve Cooper Tribute) in Hawaii, I’d decided that my polyamorous period was over.

It’s been over a year now since I last saw Greer (aka Bonnie), and I’m still hoping a platonic friendship can evolve.  Regardless, I want to thank you Greer, from the bottom of my heart, for all the wonderful times, for your huge heart for humanity, your absolutely scintillating wit, and the love I felt.  Thank you.

Randy Kelly

After retiring from the legislature in 2002, the most significant changes in my life came about with the help of first, Mayor Randy Kelly, then Judge Jim Swenson, and finally attorney Marshall Tanick.

Randy Kelly was State Rep. Randy Kelly when I got elected in 1987.  He was thought of as a conservative, pro-life, law-and-order Democrat – and, well, you know me, I tended more liberal.  Yet we both represented Saint Paul neighborhoods plagued by poverty, crack houses and crime.  Focusing on the lack of home ownership, the abundance of absentee landlords, we found common ground.  When he became a State Senator a couple years later, he was the Senate author of much of my agenda – and I appreciated his work ethic and ability to get things done.  (Caption below:  Randy and I announcing one of our housing initiatives.)

When he ran for Mayor in 2001, his opponent was City Council Member Jay Benanav, the liberal in the race.  Benanav’s aide and campaign manager was my friend Jane Prince.  Jane had been my 1993 campaign manager (see Jane Prince Tribute above).  Maybe the hardest thing in politics is choosing between friends.  In this case it was choosing who could best get things done, and that’s what I explained to my neighbors, and what I tried to explain to Jane by choosing Randy.  This led to a real rupture in Jane’s and my relationship, but to her credit we once again have come to greatly admire each other and we’re back to best friends.

Randy won, and after Jane was elected to the City Council, she served under the administrations of Randy Kelly, Chris Coleman and Melvin Carter.  She recently told me, “You know, Randy was the best – he actually made things happen, like the Housing 6000 program.”  Many Saint Paulites consider Jane one of our best City Council Members ever, including, apparently, the former Mayor.  Jane tells me she ran into Randy the other day, got a big hug, and Randy says, smiling, “Who would have thought you’d end up being the most sensible member of the Council?!”

For me, the upshot of Randy’s victory was being appointed the City’s Director of Neighborhood Housing – coinciding nicely with my retirement from the legislature.  This marked my entering my third branch of government:  First the judicial branch as a landlord/tenant attorney; then the legislative branch writing landlord/tenant laws; and now in the executive branch enforcing the very landlord/tenant laws Randy and I wrote.  One of those laws was “City Initiated Tenant Remedies Actions,” which so got under the skin of the City’s slumlords that they sued us to stop enforcement in a case that went all the way to the US  Supreme Court.

caption:  one thing that particularly galled the slumlords we sued is that they had to put their tenants up at the Embassy Suites while repairs were made to make their properties habitable

The full story about that case can be read by clicking <Here> or in the Archives scroll to both “1,131 Police Calls in One Year” and “The Case Goes On … and On …”.  Suffice to say, we won that case, and I’m forever grateful for Randy’s believing in me, giving me that job when I needed one, and hanging in there with me through thick and thin.  On too rare an occasion, I run into Randy around town, but he’s kept a low profile since losing his mayoral re-election bid.