It's Always 1968 Somewhere
When I left the University of Minnesota I paused for a second inside the May Day Book Store (est. 1975), right near campus. Nothing unsurprising there, if you've ever been to a college town. Posters of Eugene Debs, Ho Chi Minh, and Che Guevara. A big, frayed sign reading "Inside Job?" Fresh copies of books by Michael Parenti, Tom Hayden, and Tariq Ali. The Way the Wind Blew, a history of the Weathermen, up on display.
As I walked in I was handed this:
More than 400 protestors have been arrested, more than 150 charged with felonies, but the happy anarchists of the heartland are taking it all in stride. "I'm just surprised we're not getting more coverage," says Tom, holding court (I can't call him an "owner," as the store has been "proudly making no profit since 1975") at the store. "Maybe I'll buy my own TV station!"
The store's patrons ask me about Jesse Ventura at the Ron Paul rally, and what he talked about. I say he talked about himself, mostly. "That sounds like Jesse," says Tom's co-not-owner. "If he'd run for Senate I'd have voted for him anyway. Al Franken's not a peace candidate."
As I head out, a skinny college student with hair metal facial hair walks up to the counter. "Can I get a ticket for the Nader rally?"
Yes he can.
