 |
| STL City Flag |
The fleur-de-lis is everywhere in the city, but you don't see actual French heritage the way you do in New Orleans or in Louisiana in general. We see the beautiful city flag everywhere -- many people fly it outside their homes and wear it on t-shirts. The wavy lines represent the confluence of the Mississippi and Missouri Rivers. I was wondering if flying this outside one's home carries political significance, the way a Pride flag or (on the opposite end) a Confederate flag does. I couldn't find anything online, but I really don't know, so... no?
Soulard
Soulard -- what we saw of it -- is full of beautiful brick houses in the French-New Orleans tradition -- flat fronts right up against the sidewalk, gardens in the back -- but without the terraces. We had lunch at Bogart's, a barbecue joint related to the more-famous Pappy's. Allan had ribs and I had brisket, which was almost exactly like Montreal smoked meat. Our sides -- baked beans and slaw -- were a bust, but of course those are down to personal taste.
Bogart's is a sweet little neighbourhood place, with seating for maybe 30 peope, and picnic tables outside. Just inside the door, someone takes your order on an iPad; you give your name, and take a seat, and a server brings your order -- very quickly. The walls are lined with framed collections of police-force badges (creepy!), a photograph of the "Rat Pack" playing pool, and a weird incarnation of the American flag with 23 stars. (Google tells me this became the US flag on July 4, 1820, when both Alabama and Maine joined the union.) There was a continuous line of hungry people spilling onto the street, but it moves very quickly.
Lunch was tasty and brief (I ate almost nothing, but was happy to have it later -- as per usual), then we went to the market. We love markets! One of the two large covered areas was open; I'm guessing the second one is open only on weekends. There was the usual produce, homemade jams, herbs and herbal remedies, and ingredients for smoking meat. I bought a cup of eliote, which I love and never see, from a super-friendly salesperson. It later turned out to be too spicy -- even though it was made to order and I asked for no hot sauce!
At Bridge Bread Bakery a nonprofit with supportive employment (skills training, housing), we bought a small "gooey cake," the other local speciality, besides toasted ravioli, that we wanted to try. It's like a deep-dish pie, crust on all sides, and a thick filling, with flavour similar to butterscotch -- butter and vanilla, and not overly sweet. We also got caught up in a homemade chocolate stall and bought too many delicious things, like chocolate-covered mint oreos and salted caramel chocolates. I have a feeling we will arrive in Kansas City high on sugar and caffeine.
On the main strip of Soulard, we found Protagonist Café: "a literary coffee shop". It is a big, open space full of comfortable seating, beautiful architectural details, and walls lined with used books. They have their logo on book-jacket stickers, as if it's a library.
Lots of customers were quietly reading or on their devices, a small board-game group was busy with a complicated-looking game. I fell in love with the logo and bought some merch. While paying, I told the staff how much I liked the place, they said, "We love her, too. We try to keep her pretty." They asked if we were local, and a few questions about our trip. When we said "Canada," a customer behind us asked if we were in town for the hockey game: "We're playing Canada tonight." It's hockey playoffs, St. Louis Blues vs the Winnipeg Jets, the only Canadian hockey team I would never have thought of.
Blues Museum, collapse, ballgame
From there we drove into the downtown core to find the National Blues Museum. We didn't know this existed, but Allan found it on a map, and we're kind of obligated to go, blues being a big part of our shared musical life and history.
It's a small museum -- you can see the whole thing in an hour -- very well done, with lots of interactive exhibits that may or may not work. It's in a great location for tourists, near both the ballpark and the arch.
Allan noted that the exhibit is very general -- more broad than deep, definitely trying for a full scope rather than in-depth information. On the other hand, it is comprehensive in scope and gives great, necessary historical context: the story of the blues is the story of African-American history and American music history.
I liked the museum more than Allan did, but we were both glad we went. The museum also sponsors music-education programs in public schools, music classes, and weekly live performances.
Back at the car, I was suddenly exhausted and in need of a rest. We considered going home for a few hours, but it made no sense to drive back and forth on a game day. (This was an especially wise decision given it turns out there were three games being played, all in the downtown area!) We would have spent the entire time in traffic, not to mention losing our brilliant parking spot.
We had planned on going back to the arch, because I wanted to explore the gift shop, and also wanted to see a nearby historic church. Then I learned that while the church's location is from the earliest days of European settlement, the building itself dates back to the 1800s, the third structure built on that spot. Not all that historic. Although I would have liked some time in that gift shop, it wasn't that important, considering I felt like I could barely move! So Allan read something on my phone while I was slightly comatose and may have actually taken a short nap.
After that, I rallied, and we walked to the game. The internet confirmed that our parking plan was indeed the local "trick" for game days: find a parking spot on the street, pay for parking after 5:00, and leave the car there. Street parking is for a maximum of 2 hours, ending at 7:00, then the spot becomes free. A pretty great trick, considering we saw lots for game-day parking charging $50.
Busch Stadium III is a downtown ballpark, with the now-regulation adjacent public space, here called Ballpark Village, super corporate and slick. The park itself is nice-ish -- from the generation of parks built downtown with warmer designs, pioneered first by Cleveland and then Baltimore in 1990s.
One nice feature is a group of sculptures of the Cardinals' own Hall of Fame, their retired-number players, created from actual poses of who they were -- for example, Ozzie Smith shown making a great fielding play. The sculptures include Cool Papa Bell, one of the most famous Negro League players, undoubtedly one of the greatest players of all time, and a St. Louis native. We really appreciated that.
We haven't been to a major-league game together in ages. We went to a minor-league game last year in Port Angeles, and Allan went to a Padres game when he attended the 2019 SABR convention. But the last game we attended together was a Red Sox game in Toronto, in 2017. Although I have a complicated relationship to baseball right now, the moment I saw the green field and the red seats, I felt a flood of joy.
The Cardinals were playing the Mets, the team I love to hate, so it was fun to root for the home team. Other than the pitch clock and the batting clock, which are positives, we didn't have to see -- or ignored -- the horrible new rules that have driven us away from the game. It was a beautiful night, clear and breezy, perfect weather. The game started out close, but the Mets surged, and the Cards ended up losing 9-3.
The game was chock full of silly schtick (of course), and the team is aggressively promoting local flavour. Everything is "STL" and "The Lou", and the fleur is everywhere. It's so over the top that it comes off as forced and corporate. But this team has a long, rich history, and it's good to see that celebrated and promoted.
Every once in a while, highlights of the hockey game appeared on the scoreboard, the crowd cheering loudly as the Blues avoided elimination, forcing a Game 7. There is also something called the Battlehawks -- we had to Google it -- from the UFL, something like minor league arena football, the third game being played downtown on the same night. We walked back to the car in a crowd, and a friendly sports fan (visiting from Dallas) filled us in.
At the car, we ate leftover brisket and way too much chocolate, having eaten nothing at the game, drove home, and I somehow made it into bed before falling asleep. Today we drive to Kansas City.
1 comment:
The beans and slaw were quite good, but you can eat only so much food at a sitting and I was determined to finish the ribs. . . . The Blues Museum was about what I expected, but a bit bigger. The only new thing I learned was that Lonnie Johnson lost all but one member of his extended family to influenza in 1918 while he was touring Europe. . . . The Mets looked like their 22-11 record is for real. The club can hit: 17 hits (including 3 dongs) and 9 runs accumulated steadily throughout the evening. The loudest cheers among the Cardinals fans were for the Blues' five goals, shown on the big board (which was also unhelpfully cluttered with hard-to-read stats and other info; in one spot, the visiting team was identified as the "NY Mets Mets").
Post a Comment