I Dream of Trolley

I Ride a Bike to Work Now This week, the New York Times published a front-page article about a town in Germany that was designed to be car-free.  Today, the Times’s website asks a panel of experts what it would take to make Americans less dependent on the automobile.

I regularly drive an automobile, and I wouldn’t want to not have access to one, since it is a big drag to go grocery shopping without a car.  I ride my bicycle all over, but, due to weight considerations, I can only buy a few things from the store at a time, and ice cream can not be one of them.  Plus, without a car, I couldn’t go anywhere more than about ten miles distant and expect to make it home.

But, the cost of owning a car is high.  I estimate that we spend around $500 each month on car-related expenses, from the loan itself to gas, insurance, and parking fees.  In just a few months the car will be paid off, and that will be a relief.  But I do sometimes dream of living in a place where I can easily catch a bus–or, better yet, a trolley–and get to work quickly.  On the plus side, Gainesville is generally bicycle friendly, if you live in the right place.  But far too many people have moved out to developments west of the Interstate, where the buses don’t go, and the traffic and distance preclude cycling.  I have, by and large, designed a lifestyle that doesn’t require I go anywhere near those places, and I would never live out that way again.  It isn’t worth spending an hour in the car twice a day.

I only live three and a half miles from campus, but I dream of living even closer.  If we can one day buy a house in the Duckpond, I can foresee doing away with the car for many of the things we now use it.  I would still bike to work, but we could walk to the restaurants we love, and the park, and the library and so on.

Don’t get me wrong; the car is great when you want to go on a trip, or it’s raining or cold, or you need to get to work without being drenched in sweat.  But I’d love to see more communities planned around public transportation and with bicyclists in mind.  It would be better for everyone.

Wise’s Drug Store (1938-2009)

DSC_6841It’s true, I guess, that all good things must come to an end.

Until this afternoon, Gainesville had a wonderful old soda fountain at Wise’s Drug Store on University Avenue, downtown.  It had been open for over seventy years, and was the kind of place where sassy ladies with names like Gladys would give you a hard time if you asked for a “hamburger with cheese” or didn’t know the difference between an ice cream float and a vanilla soda.  I had been going to Wise’s for as long as I’ve lived in Gainesville.  They made the best vanilla milkshakes anywhere, and served them with a spoon, and always gave you the excess in the stainless steel cup they mixed it in.  You could get malt added if you wanted, but I like things for their thingness, so I kept it simple.

Earlier this month it was announced that Wise’s would be closing.  They’ll still keep a drive-through pharmacy on SW 4th Avenue, but the soda fountain is no more.

DSC_7045As a dyed in the wool nostalgist, this is a sad occasion for me.  Clearly, soda fountains aren’t as common as they once were, especially ones still located inside drug stores where you could buy a hot water bottle and a shaving brush one aisle over.  Moreover, Wise’s closing means a significant site of Dana Heritage is now lost. I ate at that counter with many close friends over the years, some of whom have moved far away or with whom I have lost touch.  I shared many memorable moments there with my one true love.  On special occasions when Mrs. Hill would have an afternoon off, we’d have lunch together there at the counter.  And I know many others will miss Wise’s.  I even have two close friends who went to Wise’s directly after getting married last year in the courthouse downtown.  Since the closing was announced there have been long lines to eat, and while we were there this afternoon I could see some people weeping.

The economy being what it is, the building will probably sit empty for a while.  Eventually it’ll become a bar or club, or, more accurately, a series of bars and clubs that last a year or less each.

What a sad day.

I Was in a Parade

DSC_4108Friday was a holiday in Gainesville.  Most of the city gets Homecoming off, even elementary school children.  The Gainesville Roller Rebels were participating in this year’s parade, so I got up early and drove in the rain to the severely parking-restricted University of Florida campus.  There is apparently a rule about parade participants arriving by 8:30AM.  Since the parade doesn’t begin until noon, that’s a pretty long time to be standing around…in the rain!  We realized that one of us could have shown up at 8:30 to check in, and the rest of us could have slept until ten o’clock.  I think that’ll be the plan next year.  But the GRR girls are great, and the Wendy’s at the Reitz Union was (surprisingly) open, so I had a Frosty and chatted it up with the team.

It was neat to see the way the Homecoming parade is put together, having only seen it from the sidewalk in years past.  All the floats and marchers line up in the O’Connell Center parking lot, or on North-South Drive in front of the stadium, and then, one by one, each contingent makes their way out onto University Avenue and walks east down to Main Street, turns south, and heads back down SW 2nd Avenue. The whole route (on skates for the girls, on foot for me) took less than a half hour.  In spite of the rain, there were still thousands of people sitting on the curb of either side of the street, on lawnchairs on the sidewalk, on the low brick wall in front of campus, at tables in front of restaurants, and even from windows of the Seagle Building.  It was delightful.

The sad part about marching in a parade is that you don’t really see the parade.  I was sad to miss the Pride of the Sunshine.  But a couple positions behind us was an old Studebaker truck, on the back of which was a brass contraption which proclaimed it to be the “world’s largest calliope”.  I cannot verify that claim, but it certainly made a glorious noise!

When we got downtown we ate together at Big Lou’s, then Karla and Ryan drove us back to our cars.  This was my first parade, and it was a delight.  And it was fun to see Patsy Clothesline and Ms. Rebel in their costumes.

There Are No Rainbows at Night

Storm DamageThe winds seem to have calmed quite a bit tonight, though not completely, and the rain has finally stopped, after more than 24 hours of constant downpour.  At this time last night I was lying here listening to the wind and the rain, and it was actually relaxing, in spite of the outside chance of our many trees experiencing limb-jettison.

Driving downtown this afternoon to return some books to the library (closed), I found streets everywhere covered in twigs and Spanish moss.  In front of two houses in the Duck Pond there were downed trees, one of which was substantial, though it fortunately fell in such a way that it missed striking any structures.  This was a special relief, since, had it hit any building at all it would have been a house which Miriam and I particularly like.

Our street escaped entirely unharmed, save for our one small branch on the cedar tree, which is insignificant.  Fay mostly meant rain, and I’m eager to see the totals for the storm.  I’d also bet that Paines Prairie and Devil’s Millhopper are flooded.

Woooooooooooooooo!

Wooooo!  Wooooooooooo!  Wooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!  Woooo!