A new source of pride in our economy is what you can do with an internet jukebox. The game is getting your best value. That means finding the right mix of music that represents how broad your taste is while remaining obscure enough to keep the plebeians from recognizing the chorus and singing along. Prices are on the rise, so only real music lovers play this game. Others use a defensive response to tune it out. Tuning out annoying sounds is a prime survival skill in the city. I’m doing it right now to write this – except I’m not because I paid for the jukebox and Freddie Mercury is encouraging me to go on with the show. Continue reading Slice of Life→
The Memphis Zoo is run by the Memphis Zoological Society. Established in the early 1900s, they are a private, for-profit association that started with humble concrete cages. In 1986, the Zoo came up with a plan to expand. Since then, the amount of party space the zoo provides has increased exponentially while adding a dozen or so major exhibits. One HUGE problem – they don’t have enough parking to accommodate this long-term master plan. I love the Memphis Zoo and have spent years there as a patron and volunteer. I saw this picture of the new zoo parking solution in Overton Park and it makes me sick.
The Greensward is the only truly open, grassy area available to the public in Overton Park. The old forest trails are more valuable than anything in that area. That doesn’t mean we should sacrifice the iconic grassy lea at the center of Overton Park. Everything else is golf course, art stuff and the Levitt Shell. The east side of the park has the pavilion but losing the greensward and Rainbow Lake limits options for enjoying the park in general. The amount of space left for team sports, recreation and relaxation is a fraction of what we had a couple years ago. Let them keep parking there now and that’s where they’ll build the parking garage in the future.
The Zoo gets paid for every car that passes through their gates. Currently, $5 per car. They should at least raise the price of parking to $20 a car and see how many people choose to walk less than a mile from the free street parking just outside the park grounds. What about the brand new garage in Overton Square? Make the the garage free and charge for the shuttle to the zoo. It would boost the Square economy and account for the overflow parking. Or see if Rhodes wants to go halfsies on a North Side Parking Project? I’m sure they need more parking too and Snowden school hardly uses that big patch of grass they call a field.
Last night, I was propositioned by a couple. It started with a blonde woman sporting bottomless cleavage sidling up to me at the bar. I’d seen her come in behind an aging frat boy in a backwards baseball cap. Her guy took up a post on the opposite end of the bar. Slurring from the start, she opens with a diatribe about how she is much smarter than she seems. I smile and nod. To further convince me, she describes specific aspects of her appearance and assumptions people make because of it. I listen with sincerity, knowing all too well the plight of being pretty with big breasts. Continue reading Three, Some…→
The most poignant parts of my life happened in books. Every time I discover something great it’s with a fictional companion. Not a wonder I feel destined to write a story. In the meantime, I’m working on telling my stories out loud. I’m the Jane Austen character that wishes she was Jane Austen, not believing in myself is part of the magic. That ability to zone out and take apart the world around me. Not caring what people think and simply continuing on my mission.
I feel freer now than I ever have. The problem is it hurts to breathe. I’m not wanting for anything except more time to process things. Constant sources of entertainment and new experiences. Potential to start over in career paths I once loved. Living in denial this long is a bit like leaving a cult (or a bunker). The cost of living in my previous life was so infinitely higher than here. Shifts in resources have been dramatic to say the least but the difference is truly the human resources.
Some family networks are too large to fail. Fortunately, I found a great divestment option that only costs me biological children. A prodigal soul made better by the journey, regardless of results. I come from a fertile bunch and resisting the call of motherhood was never an easy decision. My only problem is sapiosexuality doesn’t promote good genetics. I’m not a physical specimen that should get replicated. That said, I’m pretty sure I gave birth to a religion recently, so I might live up to my original namesake.
The main thing I avoid when selecting favorite people and places is drama. Unless there’s a stage show, in which case the drama should be dialed up to at least an 8 or 9. Unscripted drama had its time when we squished reality up against a TV camera. The value of that genre lasted about as long as shock rock. Writing and directing the chaos that we seek is best left to a collaboration, like bullfights. That doesn’t mean I won’t watch when it’s free. Continue reading Drahmah→
Americana distilled, this dive bar apparently got ousted from their original spot on Mercer a year ago due to increased rent costs. So they picked up the bar and walked it one block over to set up shop in another dive spot that was about to close down. Timing worked out for everyone but the bartender confessed that it’s a sign of the time. Apparently a wave of dive bar closures hit Queen Anne recently and the two I’ve found are the remaining holdouts. Based on what I’ve seen, this place should be able to eke out another decade or two at least.
The entire place is lit by neon lights and Christmas lights scattered like cobwebs around the ceiling edges. It’s my second time here and I’m already chatting with the adorable bartender who also reminds me of an old friend. Maybe I’ve had too many friends? Of course, I met most of them while drunk so there’s still room to make an impression. The Wednesday night regulars are filtering in, filling the gaps at the bar. There’s a community of artists in the corner booth with paper and sketches spread out. Two strangers sit across from me watching TV over my head.
The pints of cider are $5 and there’s a coin-op pool table. Most of the patrons seem to smoke cigarettes outside, so having a dugout/joints with me will blend right in. I predict a lot of my laundry money will derive from visits here. “Uh oh, I’m low on quarters. Time to play some pool at the Streamline.” I wonder if they have a weekly pool tournament?
In this neighborhood I’ll never run out of things to do. It’s the perfect mix of ritzy hippie to allow an artist like me to occupy the basement units. I’ve developed a 6th sense for dives because at least twice I’ve walked by a place on my way somewhere, stopped, turned around and gone into the place. Both have been excellent. The Mecca, mentioned earlier, and now the Streamline Tavern. Continue reading Lower Queen Anne→
I almost walked by. The bar on Google maps I was heading for was closed for repairs so I just started strolling. Checked out the block with Safeway and a yoga studio on it. Took another turn and saw the sign for The Mecca. Given the name and prevalence of Asian cuisine in the area I almost dismissed but something made me turn. The door has two martini glasses crossed behind a high ball glass. Yeah, that’s my jam.
The all-day breakfast was a pleasant surprise also. This could be my everyday joint if the food tastes good. I’m already drinking an Irish coffee that warms me to the soul. The waitress/bartender is the perfect type of don’t-give-a-fuck nice person that gets to you when she gets to you. A patient smile and tired eyes are the only thing she’ll show the customer. I’m at the worn Formica bar running the length of a shotgun diner. There’s burn scars from coffee pots and miscellaneous scratches and dents that only comes from years of consistent use. Most of the people trickling in are disappearing into a room left of the door. I spotted a pinball machine in that direction that warrants further inspection.
Oddly, this breakfast diner qualifies as a dive bar also. It’s not pretentious or overdone. I would guess they keep the same chill vibe no matter what time of the week and then weekends are jam-packed with yuppies looking for hangover cures. The place I originally started toward is labeled a dive on Google but the fact it’s listed there has me inherently suspicious of its qualifications. This place is hidden in plain sight on a busy street near a tourism hub and only lucky looky-lous and those guided by locals get to experience this blast from the past.
So far the food is good. I know this is a place I’ll come again. If for no other reason, they serve a $6 waffle.
