05/03/2020
We will be closing our doors tomorrow evening for the last time.
We want to thank minneapolis for loving us for so long.
We are heartbroken, but resolute in the knowledge that Muddy Waters is not, and cannot, be a place. Muddy Waters is people. And these people? Still here. You’ll find them all over town, still practicing radical empathy and clear eyed but pragmatic hope for what we face in this moment.
We will miss Muddys forever. It was a touchstone in all our lives, it changed us, changed our course, nurtured and reassembled us.
Muddy Waters saved a lot of people, from a lot of problems, including this particular lady. The acceptance and love and subversions were so unique in their combo, I found it irresistible.
And know, we did not *own* Muddy Waters. She can’t be tamed like that. We were *stewards* of Muddy Waters, and it was an absolute honor, start to finish. We will always be grateful for this time with these people. Always always always.
Some of you may ask, “What can I do to help?”
Our answer is tell us. Tell us what Muddys meant to you. Start with your name and class(ie, I’m Sarah Schrantz, class of 1997 for it being my exclusive hang out spot, and Muddy Waters was the only place where people could actually handle the answer to the question of “How are you?”. I suddenly was not alone).
Knowing what Muddys was to you will literally heal our broken little hearts. Please tell us. All the way back to 1989. Muddy’s contains multitudes, and we want them laid out on display, little instagram videos or tweets or Facebook posts.
Or just tell us the weirdest thing you ever saw at Muddys 1.0 and Muddys 2.0. That’s always a delightful one. If I get enough entries, I will tell you what we pulled out of the toilet tank once at the old shop.
Send us your memories. We truly want them.
And remember, please:
The only problem is money.
The only fear is death.
And the only answer is love.
Everything else is a lie.
Love you MPLS. Forever.
-Sarah and Paddy