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ST. LOUIS: THE CITY |  | April 8, 2007 - When I was living in Kansas City while in art school, St. Louis was always the closest and furthest away city in the universe. I've visited the city three other times, never stopping long enough to get a
feel for it. As the plane descended through the cold, crisp sky, we turned over the Arch and headed west towards Lambert Field. The city moved underneath me - from downtown to neighborhood after neighborhood of brick buildings - revealing the true size of this Midwestern metropolis. |
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My Dad and I stayed downtown. It was filled with brick building after brick building with incredible facades - gargoyles, friezes and the like - no styrofoam or fiberglass elements anywhere - just actual carved stone. Despite the blustery winds, the trips through downtown were exciting - being in an actual city always makes my heart race a bit. St. Louis' City Hall looked like it was dropped off from Glasgow.
We saw the new baseball stadium, a brick reconstruction of old tymes. It was nice, but seemed artificial surrounded by the real stuff all around it. Thousands of fans shuffled by us in cardinal red waiting to get in to freeze during a frigid night game.
The Arch didn't dominate the skyline, but was always a nice surprise when you saw it poking over the tops of buildings. A series of courthouses - local, state, and federal were strewn about with statues and some WPA styled sculptures decorating the entrances. Downtown was filled with lofts and buildings undergoing interior renovations, hoping for an affordable housing boom. Outside of a stretch of shops and bars on the other side of town, there wasn't too much to do downtown yet, but with time it seems St. Louis could
get things right.
The Landing, located right on the Mississippi, was an old part of town that seemed to be the twin brother of Kansas City's riverfront River Market area. It was a small area of brick buildings with some clubs and bars, and old cobbled streets. During the day it was quiet and cold, and I wasn't able to check in at night to see what action went on there.
One day I ventured out to what I thought was the western fringes of the city to Forest Park. A giant rectangular park housed the zoo, art museum, history museum and some golf courses. The weather didn't cooperate, and as I trekked across a treeless green, dodging sand traps and the like, I froze my way to the steps of the Art Museum. After spending half the day toiling around the collection, I headed across the road and checked the collection at Washington University. I explored the beautiful campus - it looked
and felt like a monastery - and got lost as I wandered further and further from the train station. The WU coeds walked past me in droves, making for nice eye candy, and I finally trailed around again to head back downtown through neighborhoods of stately brick homes.
As it turns out, St. Louis continues on for miles more, with an endless array of neighborhoods. The cold kept me from wandering through long enough to find the bad parts of town, and we never made it to the big Budweiser Brewery, which in retrospect, wasn't that big a deal to miss.
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150 YEARS OF DRED SCOTT
I missed my chance to run with history. I spent April 6th toiling around Forest Park looking at art and freezing in the cold air when I could've been downtown at the old courthouse and commemorated the 151st anniversary of Dred Scott filing his lawsuit to gain his freedom. | |
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NOW WITH LEMON
While in Missouri, I took the opportunity to drink some of the finest beer in the Show Me State - Kansas City's own Boulevard beer. I
skipped spending eight bucks on a twelve pack, instead ordering it every time I had the chance to. The wheat beer always came in a very non-KC style - with a slice of a lemon gracing the mug. When I checked in with some friends in KC to see if they've started doing that there, I got a shrug of the shoulders and an uninspiring, "uh, yeah, some places are starting to." |
WHAT IS THE DEAL WITH SNEAKERS?
One of the little things that disturbed me the most about St. Louis was the fact that most everyone everywhere
was wearing sneakers. My mind can't wrap itself around the idea that wearing white tennis or running shoes in public should ever be socially acceptable, but the Midwest walks to its own beat, fearless and in the comfort of some fine white leather, mesh, unnecessary styling, and plenty of bright, flashy plastic parts. |
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