House on the Corner

We're old and withered but we still have all our own petals.

So we're still tying up the loose ends of the cafe business that closed last July.  We thought we might do the right thing and get a few bucks to boot by returning some premix syrup tanks and CO2 cylinders to the local Pepsi distributor.

 

Turns out we get no deposit back because the gas cylinders have wandered their way from various places, not from them.  Syrup tanks are non-deposit.  We wrapped ourselves in the warm fuzzy feeling of doing the tight thing.

While we were out we decided to cruise by our old Cafe and eyeball things.  A few locals on the street spotted us driving by and gave us a wave.  The Cafe looked about the same, still standing vacant, no neon stickers on the door.  We turned the van towards home.

Along the way, we noticed the changes in the businesses we used to consider partners or competitors.  The  Mexican restaurant that got shut down for selling drugs had re-opened to sell pizza by the slice.  That might work.  Another restaurant that sat vacant for a long time had opened selling "comfort food."  Good luck with that.  Your customers will all tell you they do it better.  The Mudslide Tavern was under new ownership and Andy's Cafe had become Someplace Different.  That one was a surprise.  On up the road in Hartwell, what used to be called Someplace Different had become The Last Laugh.  We turned left on Galbraith and began the climb out of The Valley.

  We felt a bit snacky and decided to hit the Taco Bell at the top of the hill.  No dice.  It was empty and for sale.  Since when does that happen to a Taco Bell?  We decided to go around the corner to visit the nice Indian folks at Brentwood Spirits, our assigned liquor supplier when we ran the Cafe.  Guess what - that space in the strip mall was empty, for lease.  We even checked the back service entrance to make sure.  It was getting weird.  Oh well, we decided to stop at Village Thrift at Northbrook Shopping Center near our house to drop off a couple of bags of donations and do a little shopping.  The big sign on their door said the store was Permanently Closed.  How bad is it when the thrift store goes out of business?  We went on home and sat down to rest, TV on.  News update:  another home invasion and double shooting just a few streets over at the corner of Wenning and Sacramento.  No motive, no suspects.  A mother pit bull & pups were removed from the home for safekeeping.

An intricate cascade of electric guitar notes flowed down from Derek's room.  Over and over, faster and faster.  I closed my eyes and let the sound wash over me, glowing behind my eyes like an audible stained glass window.  Again and again he drilled himself in his air conditioned solitude, striving for perfection.  Eventually he halted playing and bounded down the wooden stairs and into the kitchen to make coffee.  I went in to slice some melon.

"Hey, kid, you learning a new piece?"  "Nope, just practicing something I learned a while back and hadn't played in a while - 17th Century Chicken Picking by Impelletteri."  "Oh yeah," I said, "he did some work with Ken Mary, who drummed for Alice Cooper and produced that record that my cousin Kelly McAnly did."  I told him about the shooting.  He said "I really hate this neighborhood."  Coffee in hand, back upstairs to his arctic fortress of solitude. 

"Athena" Melon, $1.48 at Kroger.  Chilled overnight, so ripe, so sweet, so juicy.

 

 My sundial said "time for melon."  My heart said "time to sell this house."  The music soared above me, unfettered and unafraid.