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 Del, the Mall Rat
I visited Mark and Jayne in Minneapolis for four days, spending part of that time getting my truck ready for my trip back to Bellingham. Then I said goodbye to them on a cloudy morning and hit the road.
Before leaving the Twin Cities, however, I wanted to stop by that sprawling bastion of American consumerism known as the Mall of America, which is located in the suburb of Bloomington. I don't enjoy shopping and have never understood the mostly-female desire to shop. Of course, women don't understand the male phobia about asking for directions, to which I can proudly claim, "Guilty As Charged. But I wanted to see the Mall of America because, as Sir Edmund Hillary said before climbing Mt. Everest, it's there. The mall was built about 10 years ago and for many years it was the largest shopping mall in the world. I believe there's a mall in Canada now (in Edmonton or Calgary, I forget which) that now claims that dubious distinction.
Amazingly enough, the Mall of America itself has become a major travel destination and there are actually package tours that cater to shoppers which fly them to Minneapolis, bus them each morning to the Mall, then fly them back home after a few days of blissful shopping. I find this type of behavior unbelievable, but then certain women – and you know who you are – have never understood why I refuse to ask anyone for directions.
To be honest, I'd been to the Mall of America once before. Mark took me there when I visited Minneapolis in 1995 because we wanted to find Michael Fay, the snotty American teenager you may have read about who got caught spraying graffiti on some buildings in Singapore in the early 1990s. As punishment, poor Mikey got caned on his backside by the Singapore authorities.
From what I understand, writing graffiti in Singapore is really stupid because it's a very dogmatic country. Singapore even outlaws chewing gum because people there might step on a discarded Juicy Fruit. Then there are the urine detectors installed in the Singapore elevators that sound a loud alarm if anyone should happen to pee while riding up to the 5th floor (gee, I guess I shouldn't ever visit Singapore).
Anyway, after Michael Fay and his sorry behind returned to the U.S., Mark had read that he got a job at the Sam Goody's record store in the Mall of America, so Mark and I dropped by to say "hi" back in 1995. Unfortunately, though, Michael wasn't working that day. He was probably writing graffiti in the parking garage. Or maybe chewing some gum. Or peeing in an elevator.
The Mall of America is arranged in a giant circle that covers 78 acres and has 520 stores on three and, in some places, four levels. As if all the screaming stores weren't enough over-stimulation, there's a seven-acre theme park in the middle, the largest indoor theme park in the nation. The theme park, Camp Snoopy I think it's called, has 26 rides including a roller-coaster and a water-flume, a 6,000 square-foot LegoLand play area, a two-story miniature golf course and giant balloons of Peanuts characters, including Snoopy (needless to say, my respect for Charles Schulz took a big hit). Both fascinated and disgusted, I spent an hour walking completely around the mall, and in a daze from all the blatant capitalism, staggered my way to the exit.
In a lot of ways, the Mall of America reminded me of Las Vegas: there's lots of noise and excitement, there aren't any clocks so you can't tell what time it is, and it's primarily designed to separate visitors from their money. My visit to the Mall was intriguing, but an hour in this place was all I could tolerate so, with my senses on "overload" and feeling suffocated, I returned to the parking lot and drove off. All without spending a penny. And without peeing in an elevator.
Above left: I escaped from the Mall of America after an hour, without spending a penny. Above center: This is from the same vantage point, panning to the right. The mall is fascinating place for some people, perhaps, but get me outta here! Above right: Before leaving Mark and Jayne's house, I got my truck ready for my trip back to the Northwest. That's my 12" subwoofer on the floor, a DC-AC inverter in my cigarette lighter that I use to charge my laptop and camera batteries, and my MP3 receiver. I mounted a 200-watt amplifier behind the seat and recently installed custom-fitted seat covers. Looks nice, huh?
Above left: My wonderful six-and-a-half foot bed, complete with a four-inch thick foam pad to sleep on. In the corner are drapes that I made for the windows. And I installed four speakers in the back (the more, the merrier). Above right: Here's my truck's padlocked strongbox, which I made out of 3/4" plywood. This is where I keep my laptop, camera and other valuables locked up when I'm not carrying them. I bolted the box to the bed so it can't be lifted out.
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