Convenience and laziness are the hallmarks of the Twin Cities skyway system. Specifically, St. Paul for me. I do avoid the labyrinth those two weeks of Minnesota summer. Otherwise, the maze keeps my life efficient and my fingertips free from the glacial weather. I can say with pleasure that I'm a skyway rat. I'm willing to walk a mile out of my way or tack on an extra 20 minutes to use the skyway.

I have my stalwart destinations and missions: McDonald's for a large fry and barbecue sauce. A $20 card from Metro Transit. Cash from the credit union. An occasional coffee run. Marshall Field's for an eyebrow arch. The food court if I'm daring. Better yet, if my friends and I are feeling particularly hedonistic, we head for drinks at one of the three fancy downtown haunts -- Pazzaluna, the St. Paul Grill or Kincaid's. my all-time favorite stop is the lobby shop above my workplace. (I'm still not sure why they ask me for a phone number on my checks. I frequent and work right downstairs.) But it's the only quick place for me to buy dill chips and stamps.

Obviously, the key to the skyway is the landmarks. Ask anyone for directions and watch what happens. Answer--go past Butler's. Keep walking until you see the escalators. Make a right. You'll pass the health food store, a doctor's office…

The point's been made. Downtowners can't tell you where to go on street level. You have to press SKY on the elevator for the skyway. The system is also home for that random slowcoach who wanders the corridors buying caramel popcorn and silently counting the number of stores along the way with a faraway twinkle in the eye. When I moved to this tundra, curious souls asked just how cold this place is. I have the ultimate answer. It's so cold that all the buildings are connected so people never have to go outside. Our houses are connected to the skyway.

It's not exactly a lie.