The year: 2010. The mood: rich (in hand and spirit).
I grew up in Booming Suburbville, MN, a place with little-to-no character or sense of community. After Molly and I met at college, I grew envious of her upbringing on a hobby farm in Rural, MN. While my youth was filled with daytime talk shows during the summer and killing time with friends at Cub or Target, I imagined Molly spent her youth playing with barn cats, making corn husk dolls, and fetching water from a nearby creek (pronounced krik, of course).
It wasn’t until Molly and I lived together a couple years after college that she finally took me to her hometown: a west-central prairie community boasting fertile agriculture land, a thriving arts and culture scene, the world’s preeminent patty melt, and one stoplight. This Vintage Fatty was snapped on our journey to Molly’s family homestead, and while it’s a little less vintage and a little less fatty than others, it’s heavy on newfound freedom of 23-year-old adulthood.
Flash that wad of cash, throw on some ill-fitting clothes, and explore your goddamn country.
Hearts + Melt-My-Patty Farts