Linda in Northfield, Mensagenda Editor
About Mensagenda
Minnesota Mensa published Vol. I, No. 1 of our newsletter, then called the Minnesota Mensa, in June of 1965. Approaching six decades later and winning awards along the way, we continue to provide a monthly publication, now called Mensagenda.
As expected in a newsletter, we inform our local membership with organizational updates and provide details about our events. The real benefit is that, just like our events, Mensagenda is for our members, by our members.
The love of learning in Mensa is not just about supporting our scholarship but in enriching your own mind and sharing your knowledge, skills, and interests. Read articles and regular columns ranging from scientific explanations to humor in everyday life. Check out our members’ photography, drawing, painting, knitting and quilting, and crafting skills.
What would you like to share? Do you have expertise in a particular field of study or hobby? Want to express your opinion? Have you traveled recently? Do you write poetry? Can you create word games, numerical puzzles, or trivia questions? What could you say about…well, you get the picture.
Mensagenda is another way that Minnesota Mensa provides “a stimulating intellectual and social environment for its members.” What could you contribute if you joined Mensa?
There’s More to Read
Mensa membership provides access to the publications from other chapters, American Mensa, and Mensa International. Click here to learn more.
Featured Cover Art
Koi Fish. Photo by Kevin in Chaska.
I visited the University of Minnesota Landscape Arboretum on a sunny morning in early August. Koi fish gathered as I approached the water and sat on a large rock to relax and enjoy the scenery in the Japanese Garden. Although I do not live far from the Arboretum, this was, sadly, my first visit this year. Another trip to the Japanese Garden to sit and decompress is in order. I’ll definitely be back to stroll through the Arboretum during peak autumn colors, and in December for their Winter Lights display (and sʹmores). More at https://arb.umn.edu/.
Vantage Point: Dinner
by James in Saint Paul
I live several blocks away from a homeless shelter in downtown St. Paul, Minnesota. As a result, choosing whether to give money to strangers can be a daily occurrence. Balancing the safety concerns of taking out my wallet on the street versus helping someone who might need assistance isn’t always straightforward.
Recently, a man who approached me didn’t ask for money but instead asked if I could get him something to eat. Out of habit, I promptly said no, explaining that I didn’t have anything to spare. The man added that even a slice of pizza would help and then started to walk away. After thinking about the situation some more, I reconsidered, caught up with the stranger, and said I might be able to help after all.
The pizza parlor around the corner had just closed for the evening, but there was a tavern next door that served food. I offered to buy the man dinner, and he agreed to join me. I was actually heading out to get something to eat anyway, as I had run out of groceries at home. We grabbed a table and looked over the menus. I said he could get whatever he wanted. The stranger ordered a burger and fries. He drank only water. I had a grilled cheese sandwich, coleslaw, and a soda. When our food arrived, my new acquaintance silently said grace before eating.
While making small talk, I held up my end of the conversation when he discussed feng shui. I punted, however, when he brought up professional sports, an area where I’m grossly uninformed. As our conversation continued, my dinner companion mentioned that he was from Hudson, Wisconsin, and had relocated to St. Paul because of the services the city provides for people who are homeless. He added he had experienced some mental health issues but didn’t elaborate. As we finished dinner, he started talking about the ins and outs of dry cleaning. He had an upcoming interview for a job in that field, and I wished him well on the interview.
When our waitress asked if we wanted dessert, I told my dining companion to get whatever he wanted, but he said he was full. I asked if he could use any cash; he declined that as well. After I settled the bill, the gentleman thanked me as we headed our separate ways. I realized afterward that neither of us had asked the other’s name.
I genuinely enjoyed this stranger’s company. Although I could see myself doing something similar again, I don’t expect to buy dinner for every person who stops me on the street. In fact, I know I won’t. I’ve changed my position about donating money to strangers a number of times over the years, and I imagine I’ll change my mind again. My decision-making on the matter has more to do with my mood at the time than any underlying principle.