Stella Blues

Okay, folks, the wait is over. Stella Blues, on the corner of Fyler and Morganford is open. In fact, they just opened today and I just got back from lunch there.

The inside is gorgeous: beautiful tin ceiling, warm beige walls, blue lights, wood furniture. The bar is gorgeous-- like all the other great SS wood bars, long and lean with blue lights in the art deco back part. The best part though-- they spent some money on the bar itself. Not only is it reconditioned, but it has beautiful rock work, as does the area around the front door-- a nice detail.

There were some people in, which pleased me. Service was excellent, by the very comepetent Stephanie, who introduced herself to everyone and offered up info about the joint without me having to ask. And if you're curious-- good beer selection, including Stella (maybe 7 on draft and about 15 bottles). There are Happy Hour specials M-F from 4-6, leaving everything at roughly around $2, so I was told. Also, late night specials from 10-12 M-W, with beers going about the same- $2.

The place is still a little stark, waiting I'm sure to find themselves and add some character and flair-- but I had a nice time. For me, the true sign of whether a place will remain on my list or not is if I can read comfortably and not feel out of place or in the way, and I was very happy at Stella with the ceiling fans whirring and the baseball game flickering peripherally from the 4 plasma TV's. Stella Blues is not your typical Morganford haunt-- clean and modern, but definitely with a neighborhood vibe. This is one to watch. And I'll definitely be back.

Snapshots of a Former Life

I am a woman given to words. I like them, but I know enough not to rely solely upon them. Words are strange. We all learn when we are little to think before we speak, because some things cannot be taken back. Words seem like forever, but I am finding a new freedom in images lately. When writing poetry, I have always been given over to the image. And images often exist in my head as words-- like how I think of luxury or longing (both images from England).

The last few weeks, I have become obsessed with my camera. I bring it with me everywhere and annoy people constantly by taking photos and telling them to keep doing what they were doing. I scour the neighborhood looking at things, details and abstracts. I was thinking as I walked the other night about the difference between a photograph, a picture, and a snapshot. Photographs are old-world-y, or professional. We don't take photos anymore; we don't even use film. We take pictures-- a snippet of a moment, a small slice of something we want to remember. For me, though, the funny thing is, I usually don't remember the moment of the photos, but I remember everything before and after with amazing clarity. Some faiths believe that photos take their soul; I wonder sometimes if it doesn't take our memory rather that restore or subsidize it.

And then there's snapshots-- the least professional of the bunch. Snapshots get a bad rap. They're quick, irreverant, and far too often posed. But there is something about the quickness for me, something about grabbing onto a piece of the everyday. Snapshots never seem representative; we always explain how "that's not a good picture, but..." Snapshots lead us to words; they work as illustrations for what we could not say otherwise.

Lately though-- and I prefer the word "pictures"-- I have been thinking about how a picture gives me a story. It makes me think about everything that is going on around what I see. Photographs question, or perhaps direct my thinking. A snapshot often leaves me without much room to think. But a picture... it just exists quietly, allowing us to put whatever meaning onto it we want.

I've taken some random pictures lately, but they have me thinking. Perhaps, despite my dependence on words, an image gives me more freedom, or at least adds to the sense that everything isn't always set in stone. Pictures show us, over and over again, that nothing lasts forever.

Reputations

All right, people, we all know this town is all about reputations. It's the whole, "Where did you go to high school?" thing that I have never quite gotten, making it obvious that I did not grow up here. I guess high school gives you the shorthand for where people came from and how far away that might be from who you are. But in our thirties, it's an assinine question. That's where we've been. What about where we're going?

I'm more interested to see where people live now. I must admit my preference is the South Side, but there are some other parts of the city that have stoked my fire for this city and kept it going. And that has me thinking: all these different places, all these unique neighborhoods, each with their own character, each with their own longings.

Reading my regular round of blogs today, I stumbled across two entries:

1. www. stlstreets.com
On Steve Smith's blog, he wrote an entry about hitting DC a few weeks ago and hanging out with STL ex-pats, and how they all wanted to talk about St. Louis. Being an outsider, it has long been a strange obsession of mine that most everyone seems to leave town, yet many of them come back-- after college, after a job, to raise a family. They come back. How many other cities have people leave and return like that? No where I've ever lived. These conversations about place, we have to have them. It's what sustains us and creates us, and sometimes it takes that distance to figure out what our problems are, or to see our assets. So I get the talk, and it makes me happy.

2. Reading the 52nd City blog today-- www.52ndcity.com-- I looked at a post by Thomas Crone. He quoted the new owner of Off Broadway, Steve Pohlman, as he talked about the South Side. "If it's happening in St. Louis, it's happening down here. People here aren't watching from a safe distance."

I love that. We all see it everyday. And then I am reminded of why I like, no love, the South Side so much. We are not singular or monolithic. It's this beautiful part of the city, as wide and diverse as the land that the Mississippi passes. And there are so many neighborhoods that I love, each distinct in its own way.

So I've been thinking about our reputation. This is it, folks; it's starting. I can feel the word of mouth churning-- the buzz, hot and sweaty. This is not some Washington Ave. fad kind of thing. People are paying attention, and it's coming up-- that talk. We are beginning to see who we are, and we are showing others who we want to be.

My take: watch out. There are three neighborhoods where I think it's going to happen.

Gravois, just S. of Grand. Little Bosnia is going to light this city up with a European sense of aesthetic and tradition, culture, and savvy. My friend Jamie recently stated that was going to be the new S. Grand, and I think he's on to something.

South Morganford, as in South of Chippewa. We were driving through this neighborhood tonight, and ensconced in all the rows of neatly-kempt houses, there were lights, and businesses, and even people-- all at midnight on a Monday. I think as people his the South Side and get priced out of the blocks near Grand, they are heading South and West, and with that, the beginnings of a more thriving small neighborhood nightlife-- young, hip, and sustainable.

Cherokee. Not the anqtique crap; we're all over that and done with it. But the west side-- the side with the taquerias and tiendas, the side with Fort Gondo and Tension Head and all the retail going in.

That's the thing, too. In the last few decades when a minority or immigrant or ethnic mix has dominated a neighborhood, you see people moving out-- everyone sticking with their own. In St. Louis, we are flocking towards that, people wanting that richness, that diversity. Funny that we still can't talk about race, but at least we can celebrate the character of all these organic and spontaneous enclaves.

All I know today is that as I was driving home from S. Broadway, the streets were alive, the thickness of summer steaming off the streets. And people were out. It's only a matter of time until the word follows, and with that, a reputation. Hopefully our rap is the one that we want.