Stranger Exclusive - Dan Savage Interviews Marguerite !

Q.  So Marguerite, thanks for agreeing to meet with us on such short notice.  I know you're about to skip town.

A.  Ya, much to my dismay.

Q.  So you've been hanging out in my town, here, last coupla weeks.  You're very spoiled in being able to do this, you realize, and have had, I gather, quite an adventure.  Would you care to discuss it?

A.  Sure, Dan.  I like your newspaper, btw. 

Q.  Oh, well, thanks.

A.  Honestly, I was pleased it wasn't the trashy rag I was sort of expecting.

Q.   Oh, well, fuck you.

A.  It's true!  I just had this impression it would be like Rolling Stone or something, ie trying to be uber hip and 'urban', super teenaged sarcastic, but I have to say, the stuff I've read has been fairly decent and straight up.  Congrats.

Q.  So, phew, I'm not Jann Wenner then?  Thanks.

A.  You're welcome!

Q.  We just won a Pulitzer Prize, you know.

A.  Ya, ya, I heard.  Again, congrats!

Q.  (Staring at her a beat, clears throat ...)  Okay, so, let's get down to what the people wanna hear.  What was your favorite city?

A.  Um ... oh, come on.  Right for the trash.

Q.  What, you didn't expect to be asked that?

A.  No, no, just ... okay.  Each place was unique in it's own way ... Rome.  I shall treasure my time in Rome the rest of my life. 

Q.  Huh?

A.  Sorry, Christ, as a gay man, I thought you would've gotten the reference.  I just saw a clip from Roman Holiday the other day, you know, with super hot Gregory Peck. 

Q.  Ya; he's okay. 

A.  He's okay?  He was fucking beautiful!

Q.  Audrey Hepburn ...

A.  Oh, for fuck's sake.  You're not gonna be gay on me about her, are you?  Never understood it.

Q.  Alright, whatever, Christ.  Back to your favorite city.

A.  Okay, well, um, in review... LA was fun, and I was in a bit of a cocoon and not on my own since I was living at Chris' place and even using his car - brand new nice 2012 Camry for god's sake.  It was great to be able to hang with him in his digs, and Forest Lawn Cemetery was amazing, and going to the Upright Citizens Brigade and such, but there's no comparison with being entirely on my own in two major cities, for two weeks each, and getting to know them sort of from the ground up, in a way from scratch, so to speak.

I love both Seattle and San Fran a lot, though I'd have to give the edge, slightly, to San Fran, have to, if only because staying in that little flat on the edge and all the happenings in Castro, surrounded full time by my gayboys, I mean, that was the most fun I've had in a long damned time.

Q.  We are a lovable hoot.  So playful.

A.  Don't be an asshole.  I've been a faghag all my damned life. 

Q.  I've been a fag my whole life!

A.  You know what I'm saying!  I love my gayboys, and you guys always know the best spots - it's just the truth - and you just tend to be cuter and funner and more interesting than straightboys, so, it's unfair, but SF had the slight edge, there, for that reason.  Capitol Hill, where I'm staying - this is where you live, right?

Q.  Um, I think you know where I live.

A.  Oh shit ... you didn't ... actually see me ...?

Q.  Driving like one-mile-an-hour down my street with your head hanging out the fucking window taking a picture?  Um, no.

A.  Sorry.  What is up with your house, btw? 

Q.  Huh?

A.  Dude, it's fucking ugly.  What is wrong with you?  Get a fucking paintjob!  You have like the worst house on the street.  As a gay man, you should be deeply ashamed.

Q.  Whatever!  Fuck off and mind your own business!  Can we get back to the fucking interview, please?

A.  Okay - where was I?

Q.  Gayboys!

A.  Ya ... so, where I've been staying in the supposed gay neighborhood, here, which has had basically no indications of that sort of Castro crazyness, or anything close, I mean, I couldn't help but be disappointed a bit by that.  Also, Castro had that public square thing which was absolutely unbeatable for people watching, and it of course had the Castro Theatre, so there were two things I could go out and do on my own at night, and not look like a total dork being on my own. 

Q.  Alright, fair enough.  So, how about your general feelings on Seattle?

A. Oh god.  This place is fucking amazing!  You're such a lucky motherfucker to live here.  The first week was tough, I admit, due to the near constant rain.  After 2 straight weeks of relentless sunshine in Ca., that was a bit tough.  Also, Seattle had the misfortune of being placed on the end of the entire trip, so I started out at a deficit, energy wise, but no matter.  I've seen SO much more here than on previous trips - complete new neighborhoods - this one - Capitol Hill, for one - the University of Washington visit yesterday, and Madison Park, where my sister Maryann and I hung out that day.  Volunteer Park was just insanely gorgeous - can't stress enough how amazing it is to have been here during the peak time for all the rhododendrons (Wa state flower) btw, which positively fill this city, and I'd so love to have had more energy to just be able to have explored that place more.   Ditto, Lakeview Cemetary just north of it.  If I could possibly ever plan another two week trip here, when I'm not drained like I am now, I'd totally explore these same areas on foot a whole lot more, the whole city on foot, but actually, I think you need way more than two weeks.  You could spend two weeks just hitting Pike/Pine - there are some shops there I never even got to, now that I think of it, like Babeland.

Q.  The women's sex shop.

A.  Yes, of course you would know about that place.  And the homemade ice cream place, Cow something or other ...

Q.  Molly Moon's.

A.  Yes!  The one with the cow image in the sign.  And Cupcake Royale. 

Q.  You went there like three times!

A.  Okay, okay, but ... And then the whole huge Seattle International Film Festival has been here, playing at theaters all over the city while I've been here, and the Broadway Sunday Farmer's Market I missed, as well as other Farmer's Markets and stuff. 

I really would love to explore Bainbridge and Vashon - the two closest islands.  The latter would be fun because you take the ferry from my beloved West Seattle, and in both cases, it'd again be when I have my normal level of strength, so I can hike around both islands.

I could go on for weeks about the other stuff I'd love to have seen in both cities.  There is just so much here, so much going on all the time. 

Castro has such a wonderful feel to it, though, must say, it really did.  Just that fucking guy getting up and playing the organ each night at the theater, and the crowd applauding at the end, as well as for whatever film was shown.  Goddamit, it was so amazing and fun to be able to see The Graduate, there.  Though, I still puzzle like crazy at people laughing when Benjamin grabbed the crucifix at the end and began swinging it at the crowd that was attacking him.  That is not a funny moment, people!  Hello?  Symbolism!

Q.  No shit!

A.  Also I just miss being surrounded by swishy cute boys holding hands. 

Q.  Oh, for fuck's sake.

A.  Sorry, I know I talk about them - you guys - like you're cartoon characters, but give me a break.  I back every damned one of your fricking gay marriage initiatives, and support you guys continuously.  And honestly, everyone was so damned nice in Castro, which I hadn't been sure would be the case, so it was a fab little bonus.

Q.  Curious.  Which city had better looking men?

A.  Can't say I've seen an enormous amount of beauties in either city, I mean, compared with the men in Paris?  That would be no.

Q.  Yes!  I've been there.

A.  Hair; all that hair!

Q.  Yes!  Fantastic.   So how about fashion.  Any noticeable differences?

A.  Not really.  I like that Seattle people mostly seem to go without umbrellas.  Today, for example, I walked around in the warm, sprinkly rain in Queen Anne not only without an umbrella, but without my little zip up hoodie coat, which is a necessity in this town.

I really dig the outdoorsy vibe here, too, which I don't think is the case in SF.

Q.  Architecture?  Which city wins?

A.  Well, it's funny.  It sounds like a trick question, because of course, SF is known for it's 'painted ladies', and who can beat not only the Victorians, but stuff that still to this day sort of takes my breath away, like the Palace of Fine Arts, and just all that fucking Deco in the Marina district?  And yet, Seattle absolutely knocked my socks off on this trip, with it's CRAZY amount of Craftsman stuff, everywhere, and how very, very tickled was I to even discover a regional Craftsman type I've never heard of!

Q.  The Seattle Box Craftsman - ya - that's the style my house is.

A.  Yes, you fucking bastard!  Take out a fucking paintbrush! 

Q.  For the 12th time, will you fuck off and mind your own business!?

A.  Okay, okay, but ... yes, that Box Craftsman thing - that was fucking KICK ASS in a way that is so personally wonderful to me, I can't tell you.  That was like discovering a golden prize, to be able to match an old blueprint with actual houses I'd just walked amongst.

Q.  Stalked, I believe is the word.

A.   Okay, okay.  But ya ... the two cities are weirdly similar, though, in the steepness of their hills.  Why do you never hear about Seattle's hills?  SF, though, beats Seattle as far as views from hills.  That one day I was mostly having an in-day, but it was so lovely out I headed up Eureka Street and went to the very top of the hill, which was FUCKING steep and a FUCKING long way, and then you're rewarded with these truly breathtaking views when you turn around.  Not only the Victorians - which every day were just killing me! - but then all the damned views.  Goddamnit, it was wonderful.  The best things in life are free, indeed.

Q.  Public transit?

A.  Okay, SF wins, not because it was necessarily better, but because SF had the option not only of the cable cars (which I took twice, lucky me), but also of that fantastically wonderful F streetcar line, which lucky for Castro folks, ends right in their neighborhood.  I totally savored every one of those trips, and the best thing was, not knowing which old train you would get.  Would it be the Italian one from 1929 with the wooden benches?  Or the nice Green one from Toronto, or the red one from Philadelphia with the big cushy seats?  SF has stolen one of the best ideas I think in transportation history, in rehabbing these old trains and not for the tourists, but for the locals.

One interesting thing is that both cities have electric buses.  Brilliant idea, and quiet as a mouse.

Q.  Any negative reflections you care to share?

A.  Um, I've mentioned this in the blog, but it's a bit annoying that nothing on the entire lazyass west coast opens before like 11am.

Secondly, I'd say the homeless/mentally disturbed/begger contingent was a bit shocking and tough to take, especially where it's so wide spread.  Definite bummer, and you just felt unsafe walking around early-ish, I'm talking 9 or 10am - not early by east coast standards - because literally the only people around are clumps, sometimes, of beggers on the sidewalk.

And how about a mass murder occurring right here in Seattle right when I'm here, due to a mentally ill guy with a gun?  Unbelieveable.

Q.  Highights that particularly stand out in your head at the moment?

A.  Um, Pasadena was neat, and getting to hang with Chris and meet some of his friends, such as the cute bearded actor friend, Curt; and doing stuff like watching Space 1999 with him.

Q.  I hate beards.

A.  Oh my god, don't even go there, Dan Savage!!  Don't!!

Q.  Alright, alright.  Go on.

A.  Um, SF highlights were like the whole fucking trip - like every day there, I mean, come on.  And then, Castro, Castro, Castro.  Everything about that fucking neighborhood, I'm not kidding, was a joy.  The supercute, supernice gayboy waiter at the Dancing Pig, and the super nice woman who sat at the next table that I ended up chatting with for like 15 minutes.  The supernice people in the area stores.  Seeing the Harvey Milk personal effects, such as his bullhorn!  Wow.  That was actually shocking, and rather moving.  And his old storefront!  Very sorry I missed by just a few days, the viewing of the Milk film at the Castro Theater, and the appearance by the film's screen writer, Dustin Lance Black (who btw is a super lovely blonde boy.)

Q.  Tell me about it.

A.  And also Cleve Jones, founder of the AIDS quilt, and Milk cohort from back then.  Those guys were both to speak before the film, because it was like Harvey's 80th birthday, or something.

Um, so really ... everything.  The weather was pretty much perfect, though a bit too hot and sunny at first - did not expect to get a sunburn.  The Golden Gate Bridge knocked my socks off maybe for good.  Wow.  I mean, what an honor to be able to walk along and inside of a extraordinarily beautiful monument to Deco like that. 

Meeting and talking with Woody, the supernice naked guy - so glad I got up the nerve to talk to him - and I've been reading along on his blog.  He's a smart guy, and it's great to read his take on nudism.  Lucky bastard gets to live right there in Castro.  Sniff.

Having Obama finally declare that he was for gay marriage--

Q.  --Hooray! Ie pretending to finally have "evolved" on that issue--

A.  --Yes, I agree, as if we didn't know that he felt that way all along - to have this happen right while I'm visiting the gayest end of the great gay capital, and seeing the reaction to that around me - billboards and signs on the sidewalk thanking him - was particularly amazing.  Seriously. 

Also, those bricks in the sidewalk next door to my building, in front of the gay church.  People commemorating those who died of AIDS, celebrating their own weddings to their long term partners, over and over, etc.  That was about the most personally moving thing on the whole trip. 

Seattle highlights would be just the swoon factor as far as the Craftsman stuff, the UW campus, oh god, the St James Cathedral tour - fantastic!  And fuck, being able to show Maryann a bit of Seattle after all these years, at least some of this city and discovering that Madison Park place. 

Revisiting the Space Needle - even just the gift shop, but it's really seeing the building that blows your mind - the place will never get old, for me. 

Oh my god, West Seattle and Lincoln Park - oh my god, I love both those places so much.  Again, if I'd just had more energy, I'd have totally hiked in the latter.  The grounds are just stunning, and the views - damn.  You just fall in love with Seattle right there.  You really do.  West Seattle just has that small-ish town vibe, yet there is SO much there.  It is just so sweet, that place, and so damned lovely and gorgeous.  I just love, love the vibe.

Elliott Bay Books - wow, to have also been able to show Maryann that place, and to have had them be as nice and helpful as they were to her, and to have been able to revisit it a bit myself.  Not enough, mind you.  Again, prior to the trip, I totally pictured walking there practically every night as I think it's literally something like .6 miles from this rental unit, and flat, for the most part, but there was simply no way.  And I must say, I was positively delighted by the little 'employee recommended' writeups for all of your books - that was so sweet!  And something I did not expect. 

Q.  Ya, totally paid them to do that.

A.  Ha ha.  Magus Books on the UW campus also blew my mind.  Overall, in both cities, as I went on about numerous times in tweets and in the blog, the bookstores were plentiful, and just like we used to have them back east, 30 yrs ago.  Whatever forces have shut ours for good, have not (yet) hit here, and I hope they never do. 

Q.  I see you're checking you're Iphone again right now in the middle of this interview.  You're pretty fucking obssessed.

A.  Ya, well, I just had no idea .... I didn't know it would prove, over and fucking over, an absolutely invaluable tool to helping me get around on my own, and in about a hundred ways, really.  I had only myself, and maybe a helpful stranger I could ask, to rely on, in two big cities.  Yes, most people carry around a map, but who wants to be revealed so blatantly as a tourist, and potentially preyed upon?  Here was not only a map inside my phone, but it fucking followed me around wherever I went and told me where I was in relation to where I wanted to go!  Miraculous!  Absolutely worth it's weight in gold, and the same thing with this Waze navigator thing - a free 'app' I downloaded, and had no idea how much I would use.  When you're alone in the car in a strange city and just need help getting home - total miracle.

And then the fucking phone's also a really awesome camera!  Complete with zoom, Maryann just showed me a couple of days ago, and there is even a movie camera!   And on top of that - on top of instant focus, excellent picture quality, you can stand right there in the middle of the fucking street, and send the photo you just took, off into the air, to someone else thousands of miles from you, who gets it that instant.  Imagine being able to walk across the fucking Golden Gate Bridge and not only take photos and post them instantly to things like Twitter and that other goldmine, Instagram, but also send little films of the Bridge and the views and mountains around it, straight to someone that instant. Insane!  I truly can't say enough about the Iphone and what an absolute and truly invaluable tool it was, in about 35 different ways, to me on this trip.  To think I very well might not have gotten one. Oh, and also, how about Facetime phone calls, for free???  Insane.  Being able to show people the apartment I'm sitting in, live?  The view out my window?  Madness. 

Q.  Other Seattle reflections?

A.  I'm so pissed that I'm missing your live podcast. 

Q.  (Shrugs)  Sorry. 

A.  You couldn't have done that last week?  Had to be when I wasn't here, motherfucker?

Q.  (Ignoring her).  Okay, so ... thoughts on going home?

A.  Fuck.   I don't even wanna think about it.  Who fucking wants to go home?  It's not being ungrateful for my trip.  It's not.  It's just that the idea of going back to the quote unquote working world, to full time office work, being stuck with a schedule, after being a free roaming idiot like this is just ...

Q.  "Just to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free."

A.  Did you just quote Dylan at me?

Q.   Ya, why?

A.  Dan, honestly, why can I not marry you?  I don't understand. 

Q.  Christ. 

A.  Seriously!

Q.  Cuz, I'm like, already married, asshole?

A.  We can get around that, I'm sure.

Q. Secondly, do you forget the one essential fact that my penis, as a gay penis, craves penises, strictly?  And not pussy? 

A.  Another small detail we can get around.  I'm not asking you to have sex with me, for starters, though you do have a ripping fucking bod.

Q.  Look, you need to get yourself a fucking boyfriend.  A straight boy. 

A.  Ya, that's my next project.  Wish me luck; I'll fucking need it.

Last day ...

Today I visited a neighborhood called Upper Queen Anne, very steep up the hill from lower Queen Anne, which is where the Seattle Center/Space Needle is located.  As with so many other neighborhoods in this city, the architecture was truly eye-popping ...

One always wonders when one revisits a place after ten years if one remembered it right.  If anything, in this case, what I did was maybe underestimate the degree to which the Craftsman style was so widespread.  Just a super lucky and incredibly wonderful thing about this town, that it happened to be mostly developed in this time period, and that the inventor, or at least an early major fan/proponent of this style, was from Seattle.  At least, that's what I recall being told by somebody at Elliott Bay Books, ten years ago when the employee directed me to American Bungalow magazine, after I asked for books on this style.  I'll have to check the history, but another time.  Frankly, far too drained at the moment.

*

Upper Queen Anne, like it seems most of the rest of this city, contains the usual mix of bookstores, pretty wildflowers growing up phone poles and along wiring, cool neon/retro signs/cafes, farmers' markets (and beautiful signs advertising them), and scarily steep staircases, among other things.

And it was a lot of fun to stomp around in it's midst, however my energy at this point, 5 full weeks now down the road, is at a low level, shall we say, so around 1:30 I headed to the rental car place and returned the Ford Fusion, which was not a bad car I have to say, but which inexplicably sucked gas like there was no tomorrow.  Won't be buying one.

*

So tomorrow morning there's the three walk block to Broadway, one walk block north to E. Repulican, where I'll catch the 60 bus to, believe it not, Beacon Hill station, which is one of the many light rail stations leading to the airport.  I'd forgotten to mention all this time, I think, anyway, that there are many New England names of streets here, including Harvard, Belmont, Malden, even Boylston - a name I've never heard outside of Boston, and then there's the neighborhood south of the city actually called Beacon Hill.  There is even a part of Boylston Street which I drove on the other day - I think it was Boylston - I was heading back from the bank at Eastlake, that was actually cobblestone, just to give you more of the feel of Boston, I guess. 

*

So farewell, dearest little Seattle, and dear, lovely west coast.  You have treated me very well indeed, and I'm sorry indeed to bid you adieu.  I've seen so damned much amazing stuff, I can't even remember it all, and have had the supreme privilege of being able to truly live like a local in three different major cities for several weeks now.  The public transit in both these latter cities has been particularly impressive, buses, trains, and otherwise, and I made no major flub-ups, amazingly.  I am sorry I wasn't able to take any ferries here in Seattle, but oh well, hopefully there will be a next time. 

I'm very annoyed that for possibly the first time ever, my man Dan Savage has decided to do his weekly podcast live here, on June 13th - less than two weeks away! - and is even having the duo of Garfunkel Oates 'open' for him.  Tickets are on sale now, boo hoo, sniff.  It's a fundraiser for the local pro gay marriage thing - the Wa state legislature signed gay marriage into law, and it becomes legal I think in a few days, on June 6th, but the signature gathering assholes are forcing it to referendum in the fall.  I may have mentioned this already in another post, but oh well, I'm pretty fried.  Anyway, it's for a good cause, and I'm truly bummed I will miss it.

But of course, I have zero - absolutely ZERO - right to complain, do I?  I've been so ridiculously fortunate to be able to fuck off on vacation like this, for this long.  Incredibly lucky.  It will take some adjusting, being home, I know that.  (I estimate it will take me a week to recover my full strength, actually).  For some reason for me, there is nothing quite like that incognito factor when I get away, and I don't have a name, and I'm not a landlord and I don't have a house to keep or any bills, etc.  I just love to disappear like this, and I've never been able to do it for this long, to this degree, so I'm truly very lucky and thankful, let the record show.  Didn't break any bones, didn't get mugged, didn't crack up the rental car or get food poisoning or slip off a ferry dock or fall off a cliff or through any plate glass windows. 

Shucks.

University of Washington, Gasworks Park

Well praise the gods, my feets didn't fail me.  Thank you, feet!  I was so appreciative of them giving me this break, that I stomped around on them all day long, yesterday, in, on, and throughout the positively, and for me, totally surprisingly beautiful campus of the University of Washington, aka "U-dub", as it's known around here.

I hadn't planned on visiting the campus, or maybe at all.  When asking the owner of this rental property the other day if there was anything interesting to see on the campus, he had said basically, no.  I can only assume he thought someone my age would have no interest in cute cafes or boys.  He knows, however that I love architecture, because in our very first email about this place, I'd written saying that one of the main reasons I was considering the place was it's mid-century design, (true), and he and I discussed architecture generally when he visited here to drop off Maryann's sheets and linens.  Or maybe he was ignorant of the the campus, or wasn't, but thought old buildings would hold no interest for me? 

Anyway, initially yesterday, I wasn't thinking about the campus.  I had intended, despite the rain yesterday morning, to take the ferry over to Bainbridge or maybe Vashon Island, so taken was I with witnessing the little darling going back and forth from the Fauntleroy terminal in West Seattle the other day ... however when I looked into it, I learned that it cost fucking $16 each way!  Damn, that be expensive!  I would have done it for $16 round trip, but not freaking $32. 

Btw I wanna mention how much I love the name Fauntleroy.  It just has a beautiful, evocative ring to it. 

Checking online just now for any info re the origins of the name, good old Wikipedia actually has a page entitled "Fauntleroy, Seattle" - are they not amazing? - which gives you some interesting tidbits:


Fauntleroy is in the southwest corner of part of West Seattle, situated on Puget Sound's Fauntleroy Cove (into which the Fauntleroy Creek flows from its source in Fauntleroy Park).  The neighborhood adjoins Lincoln Park to the north, Fauntlee Hills to the east, and Arbor Heights to the south.  Within Fauntleroy is an area known as Endolyne (the "end of the line" of the Fauntleroy Park streetcar route in the early 1900s).  The neighborhood, creek, and park all take their name from the cove, itself named by one Lt. George Davidson of the U. S. Coast Survey in 1857, in honor of his fiancée, Ellinor Fauntleroy, of Indiana.


Holy crap ... you had me there, then you threw me.  The origins of this beautiful, to me, French sounding name, are to be found in ... Indiana?? 

I do surely love the "Endolyne" story - that is just wonderful.  Mothertruckers doing away with streetcars.  Damn them.


*


Here I am trying to talk about my UW visit, and instead I sneak right back to West Seattle ...

So ... after learning of the disappointingly/weirdly pricey ferry charge (mind you, it's $7 each way when you don't have a car, but still - do people actually pay $14 a day to commute to work?  Okay, probably not - there is undoubtedly a break for a monthly pass, or whatever).  And btw I didn't opt to skip out on the car and simply take the bus to the ferry terminal, because mid-morning to mid-afternoon - remember, nothing opens before 11am - the ferry runs only once an hour, and there's nothing to see right at the dock, and I didn't wanna have to stand there in the rain for an hour.  It's a shame.  I had been intrigued by driving south on the island a mile or two, to visit an area with restaurants and shops, but oh well ...

So instead, I took a gander at the rental car map, and seeing that he UW campus is just a few miles north, over a bridge, from here, I decided to give it a whirl, intending to then visit Gasworks Park, then to take a spin over to the lower Queen Anne neighborhood, however I never got to the latter.  There was too much to see on the UW campus.

So I drove east, over to 24th Ave, and as you drive north it turns into Montlake Blvd, which takes you over a bridge and basically directly onto the south part of the quite large campus.  I had done literally zero research on the place, which is unusual for me on this trip - normally I look up at least one thing, usually a bookstore, and then try to find it, and hit whatever else might be around it, on the way.  

I intended when crossing the bridge, no idea why, to veer right, as that just seemed like the correct way to go, but ended up in the left lane, and the turn arrow went off, so I followed traffic and ended going up 15th Ave NE, which inadvertently was perfect, as it took me into the area just on the very edge of the campus grounds itself.  I then took a turn for the hell of it, left onto NE 42nd Street, and right there I spotted a bookstore - Magus Books - since 1978 - so I pulled onto University Way NE, I think, found a spot easily on the street, right in front of a really neat, old fashioned newstand called Bulldog News, which was wide open, and had a small takeout window for coffee and muffins on the sidewalk. 

I put I think a dollar into the meter, which gave me I think 42 minutes, thinking that was how long I'd maybe spend at the bookstore, and then rounded the corner and ... wow.  This place is lovely on the outside, to begin with

and on the inside, as I've said numerous times ad nauseum in this blog, it was like something out of Boston in the 80's, when we still had hugely stuffed used bookstores, aisle after aisle, funny cartoons and pulp fiction novel covers on the walls and edges of bookshelves, several staff members working their arses off re-stocking, sorting, hefting and hauling, etc. 

This place was a total, absolutely wonderful throwback, and man, the size, the SIZE, just of the fiction & literature section!!  I always check Jane Austen, then at the other end of the alphabet, Oscar Wilde, and firstly, there were literally about ten, okay, I just counted - seven books on Jane in some way - bios, critical analyses, the history of the places she'd lived, things like what her writing had to say about propriety, etc.  Nothing trashy.  Then her books, themselves, began.  I couldn't freaking believe it.

Next I went hunting for Oscar, and literally went down the store's entire back wall, and I think up two more aisle before I found the W's.  Incredible. 

I was good, and bought only one book, for 6 bucks, because it was old, had a cool cover, and I'd never seen it before:

The staff here was very friendly and helpful, btw.  Young kids, working in such an old place with stone floors, filled with dirty germy books - this is the generation that have actually grown up with computers, and now e-readers and Twitter and such - must feel to them like they're working in an antique shop.

*

After I left, right outside the door on the sidewalk was one of those A-frame signs, advertising a cafe in the alley next door that said it was Seattle's oldest espresso bar, which wouldn't normally impress me as I'd figure espresso's only been around, what, since the mid-80's?  But it turns out the place has been around since 1975, so off I went. 

This place it turns out is one of those old fashioned coffee shops almost from the beatnik era.  It has 3 separate rooms - the main room, on the other side of the above windows,

And then you walk across a hallway to get to another room, which I didn't take a picture of, which had booths and stools like in a diner.  The hallway had a bulletin board, and I always love looking at them when I travel.  Here is one thing on it I found interesting:

If only because someone has written on it in pen:  "shielded by my bloated pension and healthcare".  Very interesting.

I purchased this:

Which was zuccini and cheese quiche, and when I saw that they also had seating upstairs, headed up there.  You had to follow the signs, which actually took you outside, and immediately up a steep, narrow staircase, and even then, you weren't in the upstairs room.  You then had to walk about 6 feet down a hallway, and then up 3 or 4 more steps, through a french door, and then you were in their upstairs, which had a balcony overlooking the alleyway below, and indoor seating.  Turns out this upper room is where they have live music - sounds like folky type stuff - and apparently also knitting get-togethers:

One cool thing I didn't get a shot of was that there were three anti-Bush bumper stickers on the wall inside the kitchen area.  This, I thought to myself, is what Hannity and O'Reilly go on about - 'liberal' colleges, or what they would think of as 'the elite', even though both of them went to college themselves.  I always think, if it's even true that most colleges will tend to be liberal (no idea if it is, but if it is), it's because, by design, this is a den of brains, right?  Smart people?  And I think it's certainly truth that the more educated you become, the less black and white you see the world, the way the neo-cons do. 

Anyway, I had the quiche, and was even devlish enough to take a bite of the large chocolate chip cookie I'd purchased from them - and it was SO fucking good I ate the whole thing, then went downstairs and not only bought two more to take with me, but picked up one of their retro t-shirts

Which looks so authentic, I would swear it is actually from that era.  I'm actually wearing it right now - too big - 'universal sizes' always mean men's sizes - but it's way soft and comfy, and this place was just too cool not to commemorate.

Oh, and before leaving, I visited their tiny bathroom - only one for both men and women, and absolutely loved the look of this graffiti covered brick wall:

Btw just want to mention that despite what I expected, I was not by any means the only old fart inside this place, in fact, it was sort of the same thing you see at Woodstar cafe in Northampton, Ma - people are either 50, or they're 19, with nobody in between.  I supposed the middle agers work in some capacity for the university, teachers, or staff or whatever, or they maybe own businesses in the immediate area.  I'm neither, but I could pass  ;)


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So I left the cafe and headed across the street onto the campus itself, having no idea what I would find.  I've just looked up the place since - enrollment is just under 40k students, accepts on average just 57% of those who apply, which seems odd for a state school, and this is the kicker:  fucking place was founded in 1861, so it's just had it's 150th anniversary.  This is during the gold rush era for god's sake.  I had absolutely no idea the place was that old, hence I was unprepared for the fantastically beautiful buildings I encountered.  No joke - parts of the place (I only saw a fraction of the campus) resemble freaking Oxford.

Nor that their library, the Suzzallo, was this ornate, and that the Suzzallo Reading Room would be this incredible:

The place, in short, was spectacular, and so well worth the visit.  These kids are so lucky, but why do I think vast majority don't even notice or care about the history or beauty of the place.

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Afterwards, I headed west to Gasworks Park.  My initial entry into this blog gave a history of the place, so I won't go into it here.  When I was last here ten years ago, it was sunny, and that reflected better off the rusty remnants of the Works.  Yesterday it was cloud covered for most of the day, but still, it's a fantastic spot in the city, jutting straight out into Lake Union, overlooking the city skyline, the Eastlake houseboats, and is a great place to take pics and walk your dog.



Ironically, there is a large stone sundial thing embedded in top of the highest point at Gasworks, in a city which, most of the year, is about as sunny as you see in these photos. 

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One side note:  I had parked the car in a no-parking area, just next to the beginning of the park itself.  There was no one else parked there, and basically only a few folks at the park at all, being a weekday afternoon.  Anyway, I didn't think too much of it, but I noticed when I was walking back to the car that the next piece of land over is owned by the police, and furthermore, that there was large flat bed tow truck heading straight down this same lane I was parked on, as I was leaving.  As mine was the only car anywhere on this lane, I have to believe I narrowly escaped being towed, by leaving when I did.  Damn!  Boy, that wouldn't have been pretty, had I returned to find no rental car.  Ouch.

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Afterwards, heading home, I drove along/around the top of Lake Union trying to make my way back over to the University side, so I could simply drive straight south into Capitol Hill and go home.  I got a bit lost in the traffic and drove around more than I wanted, but on the way, I stopped, simply to take a photo of this rather dramatic bridge, when I totally by accident happened upon this gorgeous little miniature park, right on the water's edge, featuring the most ungodly beautiful curved wooden bench, flowers, etc.  Again, all basically underneath some big iron bridge.  Ridiculous.

Right next to this little park was a seafood takeout place, basically closer to and nearly directly underneath the bridge, so I decided to pick up some salmon for dinner.

And when maneuvering my way home, thanks in large part to the Waze app I downloaded prior to the trip, which I've used many, many times, on the way I pulled over to snap a shot of this sign, which made me go, awww, and sniff ...



Capitol Hill architecture

After my banking fiasco yesterday, I came home, ate lunch, relaxed, as I was completely wiped from getting sucked once again into the evil vortex known as West Seattle the day before, but around 2:30pm headed out for a short trip to visit the neighborhood just east and north of me, known apparently as the Stevens area of Capitol Hill. 

My building is at the intersection of E Harrison and 12th Ave east, and if you head east and then north a few blocks, which is uphill from here, you will begin to hit an area which is positively chock full of older, richer two storey housing stock.  I'd driven down this road a few days back, over the weekend, but these narrow streets were jammed with cars parked on both sides (for some inexplicable reason they allow that - it becomes so narrow that only one car can fit down the middle of the road, so if anyone is coming the other direction, one of you has to find a spot - if you can! - to pull over to get the fuck out of the other guy's way), hence me going during the daytime, when presumably one of the wealthy breadwinners would be at whatever their version of 'work' is.

Which was exactly the case - the streets were now half empty of parked cars, so I drove to this area, which is adjacent to Volunteer Park, pulled over and parked, and then strolled for a few blocks down 16th.

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I've done some architectural research just now - praise god for the internets - and found out that the style house that is so prevalent in this area is called by a name I'd never heard before:  the Seattle Box Craftsman.  I've also seen it described once just now as a "Four Square Craftsman" which I think is more fitting, because you do typically picture a Craftsman home as what it's otherwise known as, a bungalow, which is usually one and a half storeys, and which are normally small and sweet and quaint, and not the generous two story four square-ish, Hipped Roof Colonial-like box houses that are in this neighborhood.  But whatever - the prevailing opinion seems to be the former - Seattle Box Craftsman, so I'll go with that.


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Like all Craftsman houses, these from what I've seen just now were built between 1900 and 1930-ish, but it appears that this neighborhood in particular was developed closer to the 1900 end.  I just read a stat, in fact, saying that less than 1% of Seattle's housing stock was built before 1900, which provides me once and for all with the answer as to exactly why this favorite style of mine just happens to be so common here - because the freaking place was being developed exactly at the time that this style was prevalent. 

Hooray!! 


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Here, I just found this, which is so intensely cool I could poop my pants:

Some undated Seattle housing plans, and as you can see, the cost of building this place, including a cement basement and cement flooring (!) was a whopping $2,400.  Not a small sum circa 1900 by any means, but still !!!

Okay, and here are the houses I saw yesterday.  Check them out vs the above blueprint thing!  And may I say I'm absolutely crazy about those jutting box-window things.  I can't believe these fantastic historic gems sit just blocks from where I am right now. 

(Yes, this is how much I am a lunatic - architecture excites me like a dog.)

Again - bear with me - check these photos out against the blueprint above!  It's so cool!

AAHHHHH!!  Isn't that exciting??  Seriously!  A direct link to history - that you can walk around a neighborhood for free and find yourself firmly inside your grandmother's, or great grandmother's time.  Magic.


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Here are some other astonishingly beautiful houses along this same street, of varying styles, but most with that fantastic overhanging roof thing.  This first one, in large part I'm sure because of that color, and that gorgeous, inviting porch, is among my very favorites:

And speaking of porches, how about this one, tucked deep inside that steeply pitched roof?

And these two different, equally stunning yellow numbers:

And Christ, I could have a heart attack over this one:

That crazy three storey turret!  That joined set of small arched windows along the middle!  The jutting box window next to it!  The fucking exposed rafters under that overhanging roof!

And the below - that double, miniature wannabe turret on either end.   That bay window.   All the fucking windows.   Phew.

And here is some detail I focused in on, which was particularly fantastic, and very common in this neighborhood:

How about that aqua???

And this side window box thing, below?

The old tree stock in the area was just gorgeous - this area defines 'tree lined streets', and the natural greenery and landscaping were stunning, also.  A huge bonus was that it was entirely low key and didn't appear at all to be planned by teams of gardeners as you so often find in pricy neighborhoods.  This was typical:

And as you can see in that photo, the houses here were all right on top of each other, and back to back - none of these folks have large yards or lots. 


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So weird, this Capitol Hill place.  There is certainly a homeless element, and apparently a gay element; there are the rock clubs down in the Pike/Pine corridor, and plenty of businesses, cafes, restaurants, burger and pizza joints, a community college, the whole rocker/pierced/purple-haired/tatooed set, both 48 acre Volunteer Park and Lake View Cemetery, and then you have this area with a collection, cheek by jowl, of the most magnificent historic homes anywhere, and, it turns out, of one certain regional style, or sect, perhaps, of one particular genre I'd never even heard of, inside of one of my favorite styles, ever - Craftsman. 

Too effing cool.


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Lastly, after visiting this area, I drove a bit further north, over to the corner of E Galer and 17th, and popped into Volunteer Park Cafe, for some tea, and a slice of homemade chocolate bundt cake.

It was around 3pm or so, and the place was mostly empty except for some kids I would estimate to be around 12 or 13 years old, sitting inside sipping drinks - clearly having stopped here after school and before heading home.  They still had books and such with them.  Imagine growing up in a place this gorgeous, I mean, seriously.  Of course, they don't know it, nor probably care, but I think later on they will, once they leave home, etc.  They'll realize how fucking spoiled and lucky they were. 

Hate to say it, but the service in the cafe could have been friendlier, honestly, and the bundt cake was a bit dry, but I was too much on an architectural high to care.  And maybe the guy was just tired from both breakfast and lunch service. 

I sat outside, facing the building, and took the above pic -  there were pretty little old fashioned green iron chairs and a small square rustic looking wooden table on the sidewalk, and that's where I ate my bundt cake. 

The interior to this place was absolutely stunning, just fantastic, and I had to stop myself from snapping several photos of it, only because the place was small and I didn't want people thinking I was taking photos of them, but you can see from the shot above that the windows were enormous, and the one above the door opened outward/sideways like that, which is just so neat.  The seating inside seemed original - rustic unpainted wood everywhere, and a glass display case, that I'm guessing was from the 1910's or 20's, behind which there were cookies and cakes, and the like.

I noticed that the cakes in the rear were sitting on what were vintage coffee tins - no joke - they actually looked original vintage, and I commented on how gorgeous the place was, and that I loved the effect of the elevated cakes on the old tins ... and the guy barely reacted.  Maybe he doesn't see it, or again, maybe he was exhausted, or maybe he hates his job.  Dunno.  But I frankly can't imagine living in a world in which you are blind to stuff like that.  Stuff that is truly breathtaking and to me, calming and stilling and even awe-ing, in it's history and beauty and in the story that it tells.  Even if you don't know the frigging story - because you don't need to.  You truly just need eyes.