The worst part about telling people that you live in Minneapolis is that they look at you, think for a moment, and then their eyes widen and they say, “Oh my gosh, that means you live in Minnesota, too!”
Yes. The two are distinct entities, in a sense. Minneapolis is deep cobalt blue, like exposed flesh when it’s 6 below, as it happens to be as of this writing. Outstate is mostly red. Purplish exurbs show up on the map like a deep-tissue bruise. But yes, I live in Minneapolis, in Minnesota. I’ve been proud to do so for decades, but lately? Well. We’re leaving.
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