Maybe with 8,000 more spots, I’d find a place to park
Did you know Minnesota doesn’t only have the largest mall in the country, it is also home to a 17,400 pound ball of twine, which sits in a roadside gazebo with Plexiglass sides for optimal viewing pleasure?
That’s right. The largest twine ball created by one person (Kansas has a larger one, but multiple folks wound it) sits in Darwin, Minn.
But not that many people know this? Why? Because they’re too busy checking out something even more ridiculous. The Mall of America.
Yes. I find a 4.2 million square foot complex holding a Nickelodeon theme park, a 1.2 million gallon walk-through aquarium, more than 520 shops and a 14 screened movie theater, to only name a few attractions, a bit excessive.
But after reading T.W. Budig’s recent article about the House Taxes Committee spending more than five hours discussing Mall of America legislation, I started thinking about the mega mall.
My first visit to Minnesota happened sometime around 1995 or so, and during that trip my aunt brought me to MOA, and needless to say, at the tender age of 11, I wasn’t too impressed.
As a child I was absolutely petrified of anything high in the air that traveled at top speeds with the possibility of making me dizzy. So needless to say, a visit at the then Camp Snoopy amusement park was completely out of the question.
I think I spent the majority of the day at the mall playing games in an arcade, bought some contraption where you tipped it upside down and goop made of glittery slime made a pattern and pined over whether or not to buy an Aerosmith VHS tape (which I ended up doing, but changed my mind and brought it back).
Fast forward to now. I loath MOA. First off, it’s way too intimidating. Between the hundreds of rowdy teenagers swarming, the thousands of tourists snapping their cameras away and the over abundance of trendy shops, my brain has some sort of spasm every time I walk through the doors.
But I do understand that it’s a tourist trap, and not meant for the locals as much as it is the people who have spent hundreds just to see an indoor roller coaster. Which brings me to my next point. Part of the bonding package being considered would include a $204 million parking ramp that would make way for an additional 8,000 parking spots.
Since millions flock to MOA, all throughout the year, having more spots might actually decrease the headache that normally leads up to my brain spasm.
All I’m reminded of is last Christmas. I made the mistake of only allowing myself two weekends to get everything I needed, so of course, I tried to get as much of my shopping done in one day. And what better a spot than MOA when you have no idea what you need to buy, just that you need to buy something for everyone.
But I couldn’t even get in MOA. Nope. Instead I sat in my car for 20 minutes inching car-by-car toward the parking lot entrance, the entire time listening to a DJ on the radio laugh at all the frustrated callers that were also looking for spots.
“So and so just called in from MOA. Seems he’s been driving around for over an hour looking for a spot. ha-ha.”
Good topic. I fall into this trap myself. About every two years or so, I’m oddly drawn to MOA like a disoriented fly to a flourescent bulb. Usually I have some logical rationale for going into the place — a diversion for the kids at Camp InsertTrademarkHere, or maybe a quick trip down to the Apple Store. But whenever I walk out of MOA, I’m troubled with the realization that I’ve just wasted hours that I’ll never get back, in a place with no soul and no prospects of soul. But this is Minnesota after all, and if something lasts long enough, no matter how sucky, it becomes a treasured institution.
Maybe instead of more parking spaces, they could build a catapault, designed to throw me through the air a mile west to the REI store.