Commerce
P predicted the selling of bottled ice-cap-melt water; it'll be a sign of how little The Majority cares that we've ruined an entire planet. Here's Greenland ice cap beer: is that better or worse?
In other commercial news, after a pretty successful East End yard sale, we came back to town for dinner at home and a walk to Gentrification Towne -- er, Carytown. From a table in the window at Bev's Ice Cream, we people-watched. Bygones grabbed this summer's hot pirate theme for their Watermelon Festival window -- a pirate chest of melons. A woman in a turquoise blue dress took some photos (or video?) from the Byrd's marquee and climbed back in the balcony-level window. The new New York Deli had customers; one in the window had placed her Vera Bradley bag for all to see how Nice a restaurant it is now. A Byrd ticket taker came outside to scope out a tandem bicycle chained to a sign post.
Just as I was going to make a grand overgeneralization about the well-heeled suburbanites cluttering "my" sidewalk, a trio dressed in a "gangsta" fashion caught my eye. "Look how carefully he's had to arrange his skort-shorts," I thought of the young man. The billowy trousers were low enough to allow us all to see a good 4 or 5 inches of his underwear -- but they were belted in place, so as to stay put at that optimum point, I guess. Maybe they were wanna be thugs, maybe they lived over on Parkwood. As the threesome moved off, a couple caught my eye: Well, at last, those hipsters look a little more like us. Oh, wait, it's P's new coworker and her husband! They'd come to Bev's for a pre-movie dinner.
After a quick chat with them, and at P's insistence, we popped in to the new NY Deli and he asked for a menu ($7 - 9 salads, sandwiches, mac and cheese, and General Tso's chicken). It's all medium wood tones and tiny little hanging lights: an upscale version of the Panera we visited over by the mall, the next day. Around the corner, half of For the Love of Chocolate's former space is occupied by what seems to be a grocery called the Tokyo Market. (FLC moved to Cary Court.) Looks like everyone's settled in just in time for the Watermelon Festival.
5 comments:
Feeling a little judgemental today?
P-Max
Blarg. Blarg, blarg, blarg!!!!!
What has happened to my city--albeit my adopted one? Poser kids with droopy drawers on Cary. Idiot suburbanites there too. No imperious old bats from the corner of Hanover and Granby to shoo them off??? Bygones, gone tres chic...New York Deli, too? And, I must speak to Duane, if he's letting people crawl through the mezzanine lounge window. I've done that, but it wasn't considered at all proper at the time.
I had better get back home soon. The City is forgetting itself and I had better wield a firm hand and beat some sense into everyone with a Miller and Rhoads tearoom menu.
I figured the woman with the camera had permission to be up there. I guessed that the title of her work would be Byrd's Eye View of Carytown.
"Idiot suburbanites"? Come on, get a life, Daniel.
I know, I know. When the Byrd was built, its address was 2908 Westhampton Avenue, corner Colonial, and was decidedly in the 'burbs by 1928 standards. It's not now. And, yes, I do count all of the silly hipster kids as suburbanites. They have no more idea of city life than they do of life on the moon. They think that they're Like Totally Aware because they've Discovered this Wild place that's Totally Downtown (except it's not downtown, by two miles). They congratulate themselves on being Aware and Into Diversity, but they'd no more walk down Hull Street than they would drink Dran-O.
I prefer Cary--and Broad and Grace, for that matter--to be filled with batty little old ladies. They were a lot more fun and they knew what to expect in a ham biscuit. Oh, of course, they had their own breed of attitude, but it was one that I could understand.
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