Running into someone from your past is always uncomfortable, but Calhoun Square just won’t let things go. Nathan Morales gets awkward in the latest Overheard Projector.

In last week’s Overheard Projector, Nathan Morales explains why the last thing this city needs is people standing on sidewalks, having conversations, and drinking beer…

Click on the picture above to read the full article!

Nathan Morales has got a killer business plan - a bar for you to get drunk and pretend you’re in high school EVERY night.

Photo by: Joshua Miller 

On 1/25/11, Overheard Projector, a weekly satirical column - written by Nathan Morales - launches. OP explores local people, events and culture. launches through satire.

In this week’s Overheard Projector, Nathan Morales overhears a Dad dragging his family downtown from Edina.  Ha!

Read here or click the photo.

Overheard Projector is Nathan Morales’ weekly investigation of Minneapolis culture and events learned about by eavesdropping on his customers, told through the eyes of characters he creates, and based on the people he meets. 

Click the photo above to read the ‘perspective’ of a local liquor store. 

“Hello! How are we doing today? Good, good. Well, the lab work came back and based on what you’re telling me of your weekend and what I’m seeing in this write up I think it’s safe to say that we’ve got a food baby on our hands. How exciting! I’m so happy for you!”

Click the photo above to read “Congratulations, You’re Having A Food Baby.” from Overheard Projector, an investigation of Minneapolis culture and events learned about by eavesdropping on Nathan Morales’ customers, told through the eyes of characters he creates, and based on the people he meets.

Summer. Hi. Um, can we talk? Look, I’ve been picking up on some signals lately and I’ve been getting kind of worried. I’ll just come out and say it. Are you leaving me?

It’s just that, well, you really just got here but all of a sudden we’re talking State Fair and Labor Day Weekend and I’d have to be an idiot not to know what that means. I don’t see how you can make this kind of decision without talking to me first. I know we’ve had our problems this year but you didn’t give me a chance to prove how much I appreciate you.

To be fair, you were a little late showing up early in our relationship. You left me standing there, waiting for you, wearing pants and a sweatshirt in June. JUNE! Remember my birthday, though? That was a great time! All of our friends were there, having fun, hitting piñatas and drinking cold beer. Things could be perfect if you would let them be.

I know I spent a lot of time inside but you have to admit, you made it really hard to hang out these last few months. It’s no fun spending time together when I just start sweating right away without even getting a shot at making a good impression. Plus you know I like to bring my dogs when we hang out and when they can’t be around for fifteen minutes without you trying to kill them it makes me wonder exactly how much you want to be with me.

Come to think of it, I’ve barely been able to do anything I want to do when you’re around. Remember all of those block parties we went to together? Did you notice how miserable I was? You’re a pretty poor companion when a little rain cheered me up at Bastille Day.

Yeah, yeah, Basilica Block Party, Uptown Art Fair, blah blah blah. Don’t feed me those tired lines. Maybe if I were ten years younger or twenty years older they’d mean something to me. The more I think about this the more I realize this isn’t my fault. You know what? Forget this. This is actually starting to piss me off. You’re really going to go now and leave all of this construction lying around? What the hell am I supposed to do with all of these shaved-down roads and orange pylons? You better clean up and take this shit with you on your way out.

You can’t leave me! I’m leaving you! Stick around as long as you want, you’re on the lease through August, but I’m done here. If you need me I’ll be at the State Fair until they kick me out, drowning my sorrows in Summit, cheese curds and that bottomless glass of milk.

Dude, no more deciding between paying rent on time or another twelver of Sierra Nevada for us. I just figured out how to solve all of our financial problems – we’re going to start being in art fairs. People love that shit.  All we’ll need to do is throw a tent up, throw some art in it and ride the wave. Now I’ve never been much of an artist but I think I’ve got a way around that. You see, people don’t actually want to buy art, and that’s the genius of my plan. They want to buy beaded bracelets, chunks of metal strung together into necklaces and pictures of nature. That’s it.

We can’t just put up these tents and hope people show up to gawk. We need product, and I’ve got the perfect angle. If we can get some pictures together of trees and rivers and whatever we can make a killing. All I’ve got is my iPhone camera but I think if I get really close to things these pictures should blow people’s minds.

It seems like the trick is presentation. We can’t just put up pictures in the tent like it’s our vacation photo album and expect people to hand us money. There are very specific things that they’ll look for. First, we need to make little postcards of our art. These are for people who don’t have a lot of money or for people who aren’t confident in their tastes enough to buy something huge that their friends might hate. They might also be great for scrapbooking.

The big money, though, is going to come from our posters. Well, they’re basically posters. We’ll get some of our best pictures printed really big on some canvas and sell the things for like $250. It’s the perfect price point for art because it’s kind of expensive but not totally ridiculous so as to make people look at us like we’re crazy. I’ll tell you what, we’ll rarely have to defend ourselves to people who are offended at our pricing and are demanding to know exactly how we get off charging that much “just for art.”

I don’t think that we need to limit ourselves to nature, either. What if we take pictures of signs around town and use some of the letters from them mounted next to each other to spell generally positive words like “smile,” “soul,” or “love?” Oh my God, we can do like a series of three and make out like bandits! “Live, laugh, love!” Moms and daughters would eat that shit up!

You’d think that in a city full of real artists that people would want some of what they make. But they usually don’t, and that’s good for our business. If this takes off we could travel the state, even the country, and sell our fake art to people everywhere! Think of the money! Unless… Wait, what if all of these people in the art fairs have already figured this out and beat us to it?

After a long time in development I launched my new concept yesterday and you should have been there. Years from now you’ll be kicking yourself that you could have witnessed the nativity of my series of sustainable swimming pools. Once all of my plans were in place, my blanket and picnic basket packed, my flip-flops and swim trunks ready and my storm sewers clogged, nothing could stop me from enjoying a guilt-free time in a pool that’s safe for our planet. I just had to wait for a massive torrential downpour, and boy-o-boy, did I get one yesterday.

Why a sustainable pool? Think of the damage construction causes. All of those building materials have to come from somewhere and whether natural or synthetic they still make an impact on our planet. Think about the water you swim in at these things. Do we really need to subject ourselves to the chemical assault that comes with jumping in your average pool? What do we have against a little bacterium anyway? Those things that chlorine kills off are nature’s creatures, after all.

A day at the pool needs sun, you say? Let me ask you, do you really want to do that to your body? It’s no secret that the sun’s rays are more and more harmful every year. I thought that you’d thank me for an opportunity to enjoy a fun time spent splashing around without the angry eye of Ra gazing at you with it’s melanoma death stare. As it is I still put on SPF 75 just to be safe; just because it’s not sunny doesn’t mean that ultra-violet rays aren’t penetrating the cloud ceiling. If you insist on getting a little tan I assure you that the natural particles in my new pool will surely stain your skin a deeper brown temporarily, so it’s pretty much the same thing.

I see that you’ve got some questions about the location. I say what better place for a relaxing day at the pool than right in the heart of your own neighborhood? What is more accessible to the community than a major intersection? Picture this: you’re sitting on your front porch, enjoying a beer, maybe grilling out, and you have a front row seat as your entire neighborhood enjoys the pool that has sprouted in front of your house in the street. Nobody can argue – that sounds pretty great.

Just because it’s in the road doesn’t make it dangerous. If I do my job right and the driving rain persists these erstwhile roads will be completely impassable to all but the most sturdy of vehicles. Yesterday I only saw a few heavy trucks pass through my pool and they made the neatest wave effects! As long as the neighborhood kids station some lookouts I don’t think anyone has anything to fear.

You’re still skeptical. Tell you what – next time we get assaulted by severe storms I’ll call you with a time and place and you can meet me there. You are going to have the best time. Once you’ve swam in the middle of the street you’ll never go to the community pool again.

I finally found the perfect place to go for Trevor’s 12^th birthday. He wanted something outside and if we go here I won’t have to bother with all of the decorating I usually would. We’re going to Psycho Suzi’s – I can’t think of a better place for a fun family get-together!

Sure, it sounds a little different but this place is just so cute! Look at all of those stone men? Are they Aztec or something? What a fun idea! This is so like a little theme park! Ma, it reminds me of that bar in the resort we stayed at in Ft. Lauderdale, remember that? Monkey Somethings? Funky Monkey’s, that’s right! Do you think they have monkeys anywhere?

Can we sit by the river? Yeah, I see that you’re really busy but it’s Trevor’s birthday and we told him he’d get to sit by the river and look for boats. Can’t you just explain that to one of the other tables and ask them to move? I just want a table with a view and I’m not willing to wait for it. I don’t see anything wrong with that.

Tiki drinks! Let’s see what kind of fun concoctions we can get. Something we can share, all seven of us adults. Excuse me? Can you tell us what’s in these drinks? Yes, all of them. You have time to go over each ingredient, I’m sure. Can Trevor get his kiddie cocktail in a little fat Buddha mug? A deposit? Well we’re not going to steal it; we’re from Edina for cripes sake. Fine, but if Trevor drops his down the hill into the water we are not paying for it. You sat us awfully close to the river.

Can we get waters please? We have to go over there and get it ourselves? But you’re our server, that’s your job.

Oh my! Look at your tattoo! Marge, look at this girl’s tattoo! What does it mean? And look at that one! Get her over here. Excuse me miss? Can we see your arms? You’re ok with us just manhandling you for a better view of your tattoo, right? Look at this thing. What is that, a naked mermaid having sex with a flaming squid or something? Ancient Japanese folk art? Psh. I tell you ma, if Kelsey ever got anything like this I swear I’d disown her. Japanese or not, that’s just over the top. What would admissions at Michigan State think?

Do you notice the looks we’re getting from some of the people in here? It’s like we’re invading their ‘turf’ or something. What do they expect with this beautiful patio and all of these fun decorations? If they want to hang out at a tough guy bar I’m sure they can find one up the street. How is this place tough? They serve cake!

Here comes our cake now! I’m so glad that we didn’t bring one. This is way more convenient. Oh, what’s it say? Cunt pontoon?!! Well I… This isn’t family friendly at all!

Hidden Beach, you’ve been lying to me. You’re not hidden at all. Everyone’s been on you, you slut. We’re through, you and me.

When I heard about you it was like a breath of fresh air. Finally, a beach untouched. I wouldn’t have to worry about the scars that other people have left. I wouldn’t be tripping over all of that garbage that comes with beaches that have been used over and over again – condom wrappers, strange dogs… hell, I’ve even run into a dirty diaper or two in my time. I was so happy to not have to deal with any of that with you.

My excitement turned to dread as I went around town telling everyone about my new beach. She’s hidden, I’d say. No one’s been there. The looks I got were disconcerting. People would knowingly smirk or laugh outright. Were those looks of pity I would occasionally catch? These people knew what I know now. You are not as pure and exclusive as you led me to believe. You are a harlot that lets just anyone stroll right up and lie down.

I can’t believe I was so blind. Try as I might, on my first visit I couldn’t look past the clear signs that so many others frequently enjoy your company. I picked a day I thought would be special when the weather was just right. I didn’t want us to be uncomfortable, you see. Not too hot, but not too cold either. I wanted to take it slow with you. I didn’t want to rush my visit. What a fool I was.

I knew something was up when I couldn’t find a parking spot nearby. For a “hidden” beach you sure had a big, well-trodden path leading up to your sand. The park rangers who greeted me as I reached the sand dashed any hopes of a nice romantic time, just the two of us. Beyond them, the tightly packed patchwork of towels and the sound of children laughing brought the reality home: this is a beach that does not care who lays on her; she’ll even entertain children.

And your mud hole! I’m not really in to that sort or thing but I’d like to think that if I wanted to try it once you’d be the one to ease me in to it. Well forget that idea – no way am I going there when I’ve seen four or five people in there at the same time!

I’m tired of the lies and the deception. I’m moving on. Maybe one day I’ll find a true hidden beach but for now I think I’ll feel better with a different kind of beach. Maybe one like Bare-ass Beach. At least with her I know where we stand and what to expect. That kind of honesty would be refreshing right about now.

Written by Nathan Morales.

Oh, you mortals. You are so enamored with the coming of summer, so excited as the weather warms and the days lengthen. All of this sun works you people into a lather of positive feelings and optimism but for me, as a vampire, this time of year is infuriating. Long days mean short nights, and I have to cram a lot of business into very little time.

Read the rest of Overheard Projector by Nathan Morales here.

I didn’t pay $2000 for her so your mongrel can sniff her butt. She is here at the park to get some fresh air and stretch her legs a little. She spends most of her time in the condo relaxing in her little dog palace but the vet said she’s getting a little pudgy so now I have to bring her out here with all of these beasts who just don’t know how to respect her space.

Overheard Projector is a weekly investigation of Minneapolis culture and events writer Nathan Morales learns about by eavesdropping on his customers, told through the eyes of characters he creates based on the people he meets.