On a brisk, Robbinsdale MN night in late February, Jonathan Scofield brushes the popcorn dust off of his face and looks into the distance. The ambitious teen swears that he’s meant for better things beyond the gun range above the old US Bank and that one place they sell chicken finger sandwiches. With his outstretched finger, he points to the bright lights in the distance, invoking Babe Ruth then says “Watch out world. In 4+ years, I’m coming to Bloomington.”
That’s right, Scofield dreams of one day basking in MOA pretzels and Delta jet fuel fumes. Scofield’s simply a medium fish in a small pond, and he wants, nay, NEEDS to stretch his fins in a slightly bigger tank. “I think I want to become a TSA agent, or one of those people who work at two Caribous!” He lowered his parents’ snow shovel for a minute, ignoring the coyote howls for a minute before saying “I even hear they have a Chick-Fil-A there. Not that I would support that…just nice to know it’s there. Like the gun range in Robbinsdale! Which I also don’t support.”
We asked Scofield what he felt about an actual big city like Chicago or Bloomington, Indiana, but he was laser-focused on the big blue light of the midwest. “Imma spend my off times at Spencer Gifts” he said as he shooed off a pack of raccoons with a curling stick.
“Maybe even pay $300 rent on a one-bedroom apartment, who knows! I’ll be living in BLOOMINGTON!” The street lights suddenly came as I noticed for the first time the taps on Scofield’s shoes.
The raccoons returned and assembled in a framing setup around Scofield and all started snapping “Bloomington! Bloomington! Bloomington!”
The coyotes howled, and Scofield danced like a young Amy Adams in State Fair. You all should have seen it – this kid’s going somewhere. Specifically…Bloomington.