st. paul

Construction has yet to begin on the Central Corridor light-rail line connecting Minneapolis and St. Paul, and already it's been an unequivocal success.

Before today's rail barons have even managed a taste of the nearly $1 billion in funds it will take to build it, the little train that could has managed to do the impossible: It has brought together two competing cities, linked the geniuses at the University of Minnesota to the sophisticates at Minnesota Public Radio, tied them both with the have-nots of St. Paul's Rondo neighborhood and even put them on the same side as the Love Doctor, Troy DeCorsey, who owns a naughty lingerie and small-appliance shop on University Avenue.

Maybe they should call the line "The Unifier," because few things in memory have been able to bring together so many disparate people to complain about it.

If you haven't kept a scorecard, the number of lawsuits against the Met Council in its attempt to build the intra-city choo-choo is now three. They all say they want a train, just not the way it's being offered.

The University of Minnesota has sued because the same train that will haul its students in and out will pass within feet of its research labs. They fear the train's vibrations will rattle the goop-filled beakers, agitate the nuclear discombobulator (sorry if I'm being too technical, hang with me) and put the centrifugal dohinky on the fritz. A dramatic video on the U's website warns ominously that some sort of magnetic dealybob will be located just yards away, right under those -- dum-dum -- bushes.

People representing residents of Rondo sued, arguing that just like they were when I-94 went in, the poorest people along the route will only suffer while those pushing for the train will prosper. This is kind of suing the world for the way it works.

Then MPR raised its measured voice just a tad and sued over the materials the Met Council will use to allow the train to tiptoe quietly past MPR and thus avoid waking the listeners of, say, radio programs featuring church organs.

Leave it to MPR to use a lawsuit to make a pitch for its own programming. The fantastic music studio has drawn lots of famous people to perform and record in St. Paul, the suit brags, including Keith Jarrett, Yo-Yo Ma and Anne-Sophie Mutter.

I like trains, but I certainly wouldn't want mere public transport to interfere with the possibility of drawing Anne-Sophie Mutter, whoever she is.

The MPR suit pits its unstoppable honcho, Bill Kling, against formidable foes such as the Met Council's Peter Bell, and in competition with a lot of little people, residents and shopkeepers, who draw more sympathy than MPR or the U.

No doubt all the dreamers envision that the LRT will spur such economic joy that it will turn the University corridor into some Euro Platz filled with cute boutiques and sidewalk cafes. History makes me envision instead ersatz Maple Grove-y facades offering 12 more ways to enjoy Chipotle.

In a perfect world, we'd get a perky train that rides on air, rattles no windows and turns the corner panhandler into a pretzel vendor or a mime. I'd bet, however, that someday a crabby columnist will decry the loss of "character" and the "iconic" Ax-Man Surplus Store.

I started wondering about those who have yet to sue: Are they happy? I called the outspoken DeCorsey at the Love Doctor shop, the one place I could think of where a little vibration is not necessarily considered a bad thing. He was indignant, and at least honest about what he wants from the new train: money.

"I want the city to buy us out," he said. "They don't want us here, but they've got to pay. They say everybody wants this thing, but I've walked up and down University Avenue and nobody does, especially if you don't have your own parking." (The new line could cost 1,000 parking spots.)

DeCorsey believes the city will stall, hoping that construction woes drive him out of business. "But I just signed a 20-year lease," he said. "I'm not going anywhere."

There will be a train stop right in front of DeCorsey's store, and if the city wants to play hardball, he's ready to entertain riders with interesting window displays.

"Trust me, I'll make it obscene. I'll make it worth my while," he said.

The federal government has said money for the LRT is coming, so I'm willing to bet there will be more lawsuits, and more demands by "stakeholders." Waving federal money around is kind of like opening the back door of a bakery in the morning: Suddenly the whole neighborhood is hungry.

If I had to guess which of the unhappy participants will get their way, I'd have to say my heart is with the people of Rondo. But my money is, and always will be, on MPR's Kling. And of course, Anne-Sophie Mutter, whoever she is.

jtevlin@startribune.com • 612-673-1702