Nine years ago today, I closed the deal on my new home in Saint Louis.
What a joy 25 Lawn Place has been for me.
And what work this house has taken!
Over the last few weeks, in addition to the new windows on the west porch, I have undertaken various ‘rearrangements’ at home.
The downstairs CD cabinet still does not have a home, so the dining room is still piled with discs, but the living room is almost set now.
I have moved the television from the east corner to the west corner. I still need to rewire some things, but that will happen soon enough. My favorite chair is in the northwest corner, and I see the television, the fireplace, and the front windows. The sofa now is planted centrally by the front windows, with morning sun pouring over my shoulder as I read and cuddle with the dog.
I’ll put up some of my photos, printed on canvas, in the southeast corner tomorrow. And I’ll figure out where all those musical theatre and Broadway DVDs need to live. Also Sunday, I intend to take apart the utility shelves on the west porch, and clean up that view, since I’m now eating breakfast at a bistro table on the porch.
All in all, this freshens the house for another season or two!
Pella was back to my house on Tuesday, this time to install four new windows on the back porch. I now have single-hung energy efficient windows.
Busy week on Lawn Place.
21 has apparently sold for an extraordinary amount of money, which helps all of us on home value as the comps rise. This is good news indeed!
The house south of me has some foundation repairs in the offing. (How I tremble when I remember my own foundation issues five years ago.)
The house to the north of me is getting all new windows, with ensuing banging of hammers &c.
And my own new windows arrive next week.
Renewal is a good thing.
I had heard of Vincent Van Doughnut, a lauded establishment in this doughnut-crazed City of Saint Louis.
Little did I know that VVD’s flagship store is within walking distance of my house.
This is happy but dangerous news.
On Saturday evening I stopped by Sauce on the Side, a calzone restaurant in The Grove. I parked the car, and walked by this doughnut shop, with the night crew already working on the next day’s yeast dough.
This morning, in the midst of street closures and general craziness surrounding the Rock and Roll Marathon, I found my way back over to VVD.
A maple bacon doughnut was the fat-oozing result. “Pace yourself,” I thought. So I only came home with one.
But I’ll be back!
A verdict came down Friday that I do not understand.
I am reading. I have read the entire verdict. I’ve read a great deal of background.
I don’t understand why a new prosecutor decided to bring action based on undisclosed new evidence, but then did not reveal that new evidence in court.
I do not understand why the State went for first-degree murder only, instead of that plus a raft of lesser charges.
I do not understand why police officers kill people with multiple gunshots at close range.
I do not understand why racial prejudice and hatred is carefully taught anyway. This is not something with which people are born.
I do not understand why my friend Ken Haller has to have a talk with a 15-year-old African-American male patient about how to react to what will almost inevitably be a traffic stop for ‘driving while black’ or some other perceived infraction.
I do not understand why my students of color have to live in a society that continues to marginalise them, trivialize their concerns, and have them feeling left out of the mainstream, fighting for a chance.
Yes, I am a privileged white male, with a middle-class upbringing, and never really needing for anything. Yes, I’m an over-the-top liberal with socialist leanings.
And yes, my lack of understanding of this tense world leads me to weep in frustration and anger.
Tonight, just two blocks from my house, I saw what Saint Louis is becoming. And I do not like it. At all.
As I write this Friday evening, I hear sirens all around, and the sound of multiple helicopters overhead. And I weep. I weep for my friends, acquaintances, and students of color who cannot get a fair deal in this despicable system. I weep societal fabric so fragile that it frays this easily. And I weep for my students and young members of my family who will inherit this ugly, racially charged, divided world that my generation, and those before me, have created.
And if you’ve read this far, link over to my Facebook page, where I have shared a brilliant post by my friend Matt Pentecost, and Ken Haller’s poignant, heartbreaking story from today at the clinic. And weep with me.