My favorite memory of Jags used to be the night when she told us about how she hung out at The Longhorn. I have a fascination with the Longhorn. A bar that I have built up in my mind as the Valhalla of Minnesota rock and roll. Whenever anyone talks about the Longhorn I sit with rapt attention eating up every word that comes out of their mouth.
But that memory will forever be usurped by the night she pointed out Columbia’s contradictory nature. “But you just said it’s not the author’s job to educate the reader. . . ” I love this moment for two reasons. One, Jags is usually pretty soft-spoken. When she speaks you really have to listen. She’s quite and the fact this statement rang out in a class full of chatter is amazing. Two, when she said it Columbia actually shut her mouth with an audible snap. It was awesome.
My other favorite memory of her happened when she wasn’t even there. I was sitting at the Town Hall, “watching” the Superbowl with the TTHM. I have no idea how we got on the topic but I was trying to con him into going to the Mike Doughty show at First Ave.
He said something derogatory about not crossing the street to go see Mike Doughty, and I probably punched him. Then I talked about how my friend Danielle was going to be there and he should go because I had a hunch that they’d totally hit it off.
“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “You know who I would like to meet?”
“Jags,” he said. “She seems like someone I could get along with.”
I started cackling like a maniac. “Jags’ real name is Danielle.”
Happy Birthday Jags!