He’s Got A Point
By Mitch Berg
When I first moved to the Twin Cities, I had a few interviews in some of Minneapolis’ older office buildings – the Sexton, the Endicott, the Grain Exchange, among others. I was fascinated; they were like snapshots out of a Sam Spade movie, with pebbled-glass door windows and painted names and offices straight out of film noir. I’ve often thought that if Salem Radio came calling, I’d build a studio in one of those old buidings (hello, Pioneer!). Call it “Global Import Export”, maybe.
While I don’t agree with much I read at the Strib, it’d seem Eric Ringham has been reading some of the same stuff:
A man ought to have an office in the Grain Exchange. He ought to walk past classy architectural details on his way to work in the morning.
He ought to hear the sound of his wingtips echoing off the marble as he approaches his office.
A man ought to wear a suit and a proper hat. He ought to wear Florsheims, not Rockports. If he wants to get comfortable, he can loosen his tie and cock his hat to one side.
He ought to work for himself. Maybe as a private eye, maybe as a highly paid novelist. He shouldn’t be particular.
A man ought to have a frosted-glass door with his name etched on it. Maybe the name of his partner, too, if he has one. (When a man’s partner is killed, he’s supposed to do something about it. Not that a man should compare himself to Bogart.)
OK. Maybe he’s reading too much of the same stuff.
But you get the idea.
February 11th, 2008 at 10:35 am
I worked in the Grain Exchange for a few weeks. T’was a neat building.
February 11th, 2008 at 10:38 am
Uh, to be clear, I worked in the Grain Exchange building. Not in that incomprehensible melee that is trading. For the life of me, I’ll never understand how that works. I have degrees in physics and astronomy, have taken and passed courses in nuclear physics, calculus, whatever. And I have absolutely no idea how people standing around yelling at each other can be accomplishing anything that makes sense, let alone with buckets of money on the line.
February 11th, 2008 at 10:44 am
I spent a year in the Endicott. Lovely old building. If you took the stairs instead of the elevator when you got to the bottom flight the marble risers were worn into a groove from over a century of Florsheims.