Paul Lundgren's Lost Ripsaw Column

Okay kids, today I have a special feature for you. Gather 'round, and grandpa will tell you a story. As you may have seen in a column I wrote a while ago, I was upset because one of my favorite columnists, Paul Lundgren, was no longer writing columns. For some reason or another, he had been booted out of the Ripsaw, an alternative weekly paper in Duluth. Apparently, he and the Editor had a disagreement.

I had met Lundgren before; once when I interviewed him for an article I wrote for a journalism class at the University of Wisconsin-Superior, and another time at a poetry reading back when I was in Duluth. I never really expected to hear from him, but the other day Lundgren sent me an e-mail. Apparently, he had heard about and seen ads on the back page of the Ripsaw for my daily column (they have a kiosk section with free classifieds). He came to check it out, and found the column I had written about him.

He was nice enough to send me the last column he wrote for the Ripsaw, the one that never got published, and to let me post it here. And post it I will. As for the story behind Lundgren's untimely departure from the Ripsaw, I'll let him tell you in his own words. Here's part of the e-mail Lundgren sent me:

The May 15 column you consider my last was actually a rerun from two years earlier. The column I wrote for May 15 was pulled by the publisher at the last minute and replaced with that rerun. I was pissed and quit.

Below is the unpublished last column. It should explain how the shit went down.

So here is Paul Lundgren's last "Next Level" column, which was scheduled to run on May 15, 2002 before it was pulled. Enjoy.

I was summoned to have a chat with Ripsaw editor/publisher Brad Nelson last week. He wanted to talk to me about the new gimmick I call the "Sellout Column," where readers send me $25 and I write about whatever they want. Nelson was happy with the first seven sellout columns, but the eighth one annoyed him a bit.

"No more businesses," he told me. Nelson was unhappy that I was undercutting the Ripsaw advertising department and essentially selling a half-page ad for $25. Not having the nerve to call him a jealous bastard, I just told him I understood his concerns and that he had nothing to worry about.

Of course, I knew at the time that several businesses had already lined up to take advantage of the sellout offer, but I didn't mention it. I chose, instead, the path of deception. I love deception.

This week I'm going to rant about the many virtues of the Round-up Bar & Grill. For my publisher's information, the owner of the Round-up did not send me a check -- his niece did. So, Mr. Nelson, if you want something to be upset about, go into your e-mail and open the graphic file I sent you of a middle finger.

The Round-up Bar & Grill is located at 415 E. Fourth St. in Duluth. The kitchen at the Round-up is open until 11pm, the prices are reasonable and the jukebox is full of old-school country music. The walls are lined with autographed photos of dozens of country stars, including Roy Clark, Kitty Wells, Charley Pride and "Little" Jimmy Dickens.

Most of my trips to the Round-up have occurred during the worst times in my life. The Round-up is located right across the street from St. Mary's Hospital, where loved ones are always having parts of their body cut open, torn out, sewn together or some combination of those options. Sometimes they live; sometimes they die. Either way, while I wait around to find out, I'll be damned if don't need a drink or six. That's what the Round-up is there for.

Those hospital experiences always remind me of how precious and short life is, and how it would be a shame to live by other people's silly little rules, like "you can't let businesses buy your column" or "you can't let your customers smoke while the kitchen is open." To hell with that. I have no time to deal with laws, rules, standards and other roadblocks set up to make my life more complicated. I am above the law. Look at my picture! I'm the Scandinavian James Dean!

Still, I understand Nelson's position. I hope he won't be too upset with my defiance. Maybe the two of us can sit down and work it all out over a delicious pepper cheeseburger at the Round-up for just $3.95. Nelson could even add fries to that order for another $1.25.

Say, for example, Nelson and I were to go to the Round-up on a Sunday. We could play darts for free all day. From 10am until noon, we could drink bloody Mary's for just $1.75 each.

If Nelson is too busy on Sunday, we could try Monday instead. From 7pm until closing time, Budweiser and Miller products are just $3.50 a pitcher. Other brands, like Old Milwaukee, are just $3.25.

Maybe Nelson and I could bury the hatchet by singing a few love songs to each other. The Round-up has karaoke on Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays, starting at 8pm. Coors Light 16-ounce "pounders" are just $1.75 and there are drawings for free drinks for the singers. C'mon Nelson, put your arm around me and sing along: "That's what friends are for."