The kids and I spent a couple hours in Lowertown, taking pictures and walking down memory lane. We wandered into the warehouse where we lived when Jack was born. Sawatdee and a school for deaf children used to be on the main floor and I remember walking in, smelling Thai food (which got really old after a while) and seeing little kids excitedly signing on their way to their classrooms. It hasn't changed much, maybe a little cleaner and they have a mailroom now but it still smells like dinner is cooking— Lenny Russo's restaurant, Heartland, has the entire main floor. I doubt the smell of Heartland's food would ever get old, it's a great restaurant.
When we lived at the Cosmopolitan, we owned a basset hound named Lucy who was resolutely opposed to housetraining. She ruined our carpet in the apartment so Ted, showing the first signs of his all around handy-ness, tore it up and refinished the hardwood. We had the only apartment (there were 250) with beautiful bird's-eye maple floors, thanks to Lucy. Like they say, when life gives you lemons, make lemonade (or tear up the carpet and start over). Ironically, Lucy hated walking on the hardwood and would jump from rug to rug with a long suffering look on her face. Our names are in the closet under 5 layers of varnish, I wonder if they're still there?
There was a piano in Mears Park, not sure what that was all about, maybe cultural enrichment?? I bought Guinness, my Newfie, when we lived in Lowertown and we spent many, many hours in the park. There were pigeons (Jack used to call them chickens), people sitting on the benches, buses roaring by trying to make the light on 5th and Wacouta and dogs on leashes in the park. Not much has changed and it felt good.
The Gopher Bar— cheap beer (at least it used to be) and coney dogs. We would walk up once a week, order a pitcher of beer and power down a couple coney dogs. If I tried that now, I would have heartburn for days and an extra 25 pounds on my backside. Ah, how I miss the rigorous digestive system and metabolism of my youth.
