Our pop-culture landmark status is far from famous

"It Happened Right Here: America's Pop Culture Landmarks" by Chris Epting arrived in the office the other day, and, of course, you turn to the index to see which Twin Cities locations are mentioned.

But you already know what it's going to be.

On this spot, Bob Dylan slapped a harmonica against his thigh to clear the spittle.

On this spot, Bob Dylan briefly thought of using the word "cashew" in a lyric.

On this spot, Bob Dylan bought a ticket to leave town for good.

That covers him. Then there's our next celeb:

This is the house that Mary Tyler Moore never lived in. (See also, apartment building Mary Tyler Moore never lived in.) I mean, you could make the case that the entire city is unique, because Mary Tyler Moore never lived in any of these houses. Some people would be impressed. "Yeah, I live next to one of the houses that Mary Tyler Moore never lived in. I tell you, the tour buses drive me nuts. It's not a wide street."

The book has some curious choices for "Pop Culture," like the site of the great Hinckley Fire (it's in Hinckley, by the way). Nothing on our great airport, which was the setting for "Airport," the disaster movie starring Dean Martin. Yes, Dean walked through the same doors you've walked through, albeit with more style and probably a higher blood-alcohol content.

Once you get below the top tier — people who left, were never here, and Prince — there's a great number of Twin Citians who made contributions to American culture. How can we let the world know about them?

London has plaques on buildings that were once home to interesting but forgotten people, and it makes for curious reading:

On this spot, Florence Whitherspoon-Piggles wrote her famous novel, "Departed With the Breeze," a romance about society belle Russett O'Gara and Brett Davies, a roguish sausage maker, set against the English civil war. The novel's concluding line, "Dammit, my dear, I don't give a frank" shocked audiences at the time.

You go a few steps, and there's another:

On this spot, Jeremy Hogg, barrister, had his office. He defended Whitherspoon-Piggles in a series of plagiarism suits brought by Margaret Mitchell.

And so on. Botanists, philanthropists, inventors, reformers, politicians. You've probably never heard of any of them, but now you know a little bit more. The problem with doing that here? We've torn down so many old historic structures where a plaque might go.

For example: The Globe Building on 4th Street between Nicollet and Hennepin, wrecked in 1958 for the new library. In 1886 a Minnesotan named Dick W. Sears opened up an office to sell watches. He later went into mail-order and department stores with a chap named Roebuck. You might have heard of them. A plaque might be nice.

Then again, Sears did a Dylan within a year and decamped to Chicago.

So ... perhaps a series of plaques at the train station that list all the famous and influential people who left here for good from this spot. Along with the World's Largest Screen Door that did not, in fact, hit them on the way out!

That would be an excellent tourist draw.