Video Field Work: Salisbury

In between rain drops this week was a day of real beauty. You might remember this day, known as Wednesday? Nowhere in the world was that beauty more on display than in Clifton Heights, that bastion of calm in the western edges of South City. The video crew, reduced by one to Tyler and Sean, met me at the home of Eric Lysaght. He’s a guitarist in at last three different cover bands around town (Superjam, Tiny Cows and Pay the Cobra), but he really enjoys those moments when he gets to play his own material, under the name of Salisbury. Bryan Hoskins, his bandmate in different projects over the years, was also on-hand, adding guitar and harmony vocals, as he does on the initial Salisbury CD.

Our thought was that we’d drop by, recording a couple of tracks in the relatively spare conditions of Eric’s front porch. We did just that, though a few passing cars sent us inside, to record a track in the living room. Then we went back outside, just after a neighbor’s lawn mower quieted. Running through each of the two tracks a couple/three times, you can figure out whey the two them play music together, with the pair having a total sense of sympathy for one another’s talents.

The guitars? Right there. The harmonies? Right there. Even the street cooperated on the afternoon, with few cars rolling by, birds chirping and equipment functioning without hitch.

After we departed, the two sat on the porch and kept playing. Get the feeling this might happen from time-to-time.

Looking forward to the video of this one.

Beer ‘n’ Eggs at Pooh’s

Let’s just say that you’ve received a $500 check, for a writing job that’s going to take not a small amount of work. You’re happy to have it, though. And you’re equally happy to deposit the baby, especially because you’re on the way to the mechanic’s for a follow-up to that annoying, squealing sound coming from your passenger, front tire/wheel. Well, you know the rest of the story.

About $544-and-change later, you’re working on only one thing: maintaining patience in your quest for a nerve-calming beer. Sensing that it’s time to widen a field a bit, you head south, to the intersection of Fillmore and Virginia. Next to the passing, buzzing highway there is Pooh’s Corner, commonly known as a cop hangout. In the afternoon, it’s also a workingman’s bar and the conversation at the bar tends towards the topical: the overpriced drinks at the ballpark, drivers and texters, the reason for I-55 being closed northbound. The usual stuff.

But on the back bar’s a funny little plaque, advertising white eggs for $2.25 and browns for $2.50. Asking bartender Chuck if the bar does, in fact, sell eggs, he seems surprised. “Yeah, we do. If we got ‘em.” A quick look past my shoulder confirms it: on Thursday, they’d got eggs. Asking where they came from, Chuck offered another another simple comeback, “from the country.” Well, sure enough, the plaque did say they were country eggs. Why the need to so many questions, Charlie?

The stay steadied my nerves. And it didn’t cost much. Add one domestic beer, one bag of Herr’s pretzels, one-dozen eggs and a one-dollar tip and you get: $6.

Thanks, Pooh’s. I won’t wait another nine years to come back.

Pooh’s Corner
6023 Virginia, 63111
(314) 351-5313

Video Field Work: Bayer’s Garden Shop

Today, the now-expected mini-doc crew (Tyler DePerro, Ben Harrison and Sean Barber) and I hit Bayer’s Garden, that staple of South Side yard enthusiasts. Of mild interest here is the fact that Jason Bayer, now a co-owner of the two Bayer’s stores after his father’s recent passing, spent a good number of years in the video production business. Working for large cable outlet unnamed here, he worked on everything from 30-second to 30-minute commercials, casting yours truly once in an Insurance Xpress ad that gave me a strange bit of notoriety around town for a few months.

These days, he spends a goodly amount of time at the Imperial branch of the Bayer’s empire, a nine-acre plot that features everything that the landmark Hampton location has on-hand, but in larger supply. Need some rock for your patio? At Hampton, you buy a few bags. At Imperial, you fill the back of your pick-up.

But as a South Sider, himself, it’s easy to get Jason back to the old stomping grounds, especially towards the end of the work day, after he’s driven the company truck back from Jefferson County, loaded with supplies. With the WU crew still on the way, I wandered the shop’s lot with Jason, who was quickly snapped up by a purchaser; she wanted some help picking out zucchini and cucumbers plants. With that situation taken to a pleasing conclusion, we headed just down the block, where his aunt lives. In the back yard was a huge turtle, which she’d wanted for her garden. It had just been delivered, and there it sat in a large, raised, but mostly-empty bed. That turtle was king of the yard, no doubt. With a little prompting, I got the story on distributors of other oddball lawn statuary, and Jason mentioned that he had a photo of a yard Yeti in his phone, which was true enough. So, if you ever want a Yeti figure for your yard, you know where to go.

You get the distinct sense that the Bayer brothers have fun with their jobs. Having already brought the ghost pepper phenomenon to Saint Louis, they’re now experimenting with the Trinidad Scorpion Butch T, the plant that’s surpassed the ghost in pure Scoville units. With luck and his brother Greg’s scientific background coming into play, next year the Scorpion will be for sale at Bayer’s. Not that I’d even consider eating one, but I’d definitely grow one, only to brag about the fact that there’s one in the backyard. Which, it’s true, is full, full, full of Bayer’s product.

I know how it is: you got to Lowe’s or Home Depot for a can of paint and you walk out with light bulbs, a dimmer switch, a two-by-four and nails. But if you want folks that know a lot about plants to help you through a purchase, be sure to support your local plant shop. It’s just the right thing to do.

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Ah, yes, after our shoot, I took the youth to Mom’s Deli, a first visit for all three crew members. One finished his sandwich outright, two saved half for later. All found the experience to be a positive one, even if directions got a bit confused.

Sharing the joys of the South Side, a little bit at a time. It’s what we do. For fun.

Traffic Stops, 2: Nose, Pennsylvania @ Koeln

Recently, I’ve come to believe that with persistent alley driving, I’m going to find some treasures of real consequence. But the more alleys I travel, the less stuff I’m seeing out, rendering useless my theory of a hip pad created of junk. Today, before heading to a friend’s, I hit several alleys in the Carondelet, Mt. Pleasant and Patch neighborhoods, with a predictable lack of luck. I did, though, find a homeless encampment under a bridge in Carondelet Park. Good to know! And I found this large nose, outside of a house on Pennsylvania. A weathered deer, a devil’s head and a Buddha-like figure were among the other bits of outdoor art on display.

There’s no real message here, no real lesson. I’ve not going to create an artistic nose of scraps. And I’m not going to find anything cool in the alleys. But I am willing to stop and to look.

So, yeah, I guess that’s the lesson.

It is Good Pizza That Costs $5

There’s this one employee of Kicker’s Corner. Her name is Mary. She is very enthusiastic about her place of employment. Says the pizza’s great. You doubt it, but only because she’s so set on this being such a high-quality pie. Couldn’t be that good, right? The suspicion you have, though, wears on you for only a week. There’s no way to turn your back on a good pizza, if that’s what Kicker’s Corner is serving up. Especially on a Tuesday night, when it’s a $5 special.

Turns out that Mary is right. This pizza is excellent. And it’s priced at $5. Just like she said it was.

Throw in a large salad for another $5. Mind you, this isn’t your average South Side bar salad, that obligatory mountain of iceberg lettuce, with a few crouton and worn tomato slices on-top. This is a real salad, full of field greens and vegetables. And it’s $5.

Just like the $5 pizza, which is excellent. Mary would tell you that and so will I.

While also pointing out that beer’s affordable at Kicker’s. Meaning that two people can eat well for $20. And be enormously entertained by the stories told by the Feeney Brothers, who are Tuesday night regulars. They come for the $5 pizza, plus a topping. The boys get the pepperoni, which adds a bit more. You know the score: toppings cost extra. But for an extra buck-and-change, you’ll be like us, like the Feeney’s, eating for less than $7. Unless you get the salad, which I would recommend. Drinks, too.

In summary: thanks Mary. Maybe I’ll see you on Tuesday?

Kicker’s Corner
6201 So. Broadway, 63111
314.832.7935

Traffic Stops, 1: Memorial, Germania @ Sharp

I’ve passed this marker a not a small number of times, driving past River Des Peres and not giving much thought to a pull-over.

But when I finally did, I noticed a lot of detail to this one. For example, Ed was born six months before me. And the memorial’s got a bit of everything: some ceramic statuary, not pictured here, along with the cross, the flag and the plastic flowers. Just beyond the frame of this shot, a river, fattened on spring rains.

If the City, or some other type of agency, whoever is in charge of cutting grass in this median takes some time. They cut around the roadside memorial. A bit of grass kicks up, sure, but it’s treated with due respect.

Video Field Work: Frank’s First Alarm

If you were to hope for the best outcomes for a video shoot at a corner bar in South City, you’d hope that a couple of older fellows would be sitting at that bar, watching classic, black-and-white movies. (With one of them celebrating their 48th anniversary.) You’d feel even better if your star, the venue’s comely bartender, had found a turtle in the back yard earlier in the day. And what’d make the scene complete would be the eventual and seamless blend of the regulars and your three early-20-something crew members, with a conversation about 2’10 pole dancers breaking out at random. Maybe that’s not the kind of discussion you work into a independent study proposal, but when day drinking’s involved, anything can, and will, be put onto the conversational table.

At Frank’s First Alarm, yesterday, we interviewed bartender Stephanie Skaggs, or Stephanie S, since the bar has an unlikely number of three Stephanie’s on staff. She’s also known as Tuckpointer Stephanie, as that calls out to her other day job, working for the local D&M Tuckpointing outfit, her uncle’s business. During our talks yesterday, we discussed her ability to work both a day- and night-shift group of regulars. And, of course, we talked about tuckpointing, about which she’s got some definite ideas. We talked about turtle care and the new Mountain Dew-flavored vodka, Dude. We shot the bar with all the rough-hewn character attached, which is more obvious in the daytime, even with the red curtains drawn.

Can you ever really capture what makes a place tick in a quick drop-in visit? How do you go about getting the answers you think are there, without asking the same question from a dozen different angles? And how do fit the corner bar culture of Saint Louis into a series of mini-docs, without celebrating the negative aspects that can come along with the round-the-clock drinking of many of our fellow citizens? (And the racism endemic in many of these places? Well, that’s another story, entirely. And it’d not this story.)

At this point, I’m sitting back, seeing what Tyler feels are the key shots, the important quotes. Maybe they’ll mesh with mine and maybe they’ll be bits that I somehow missed. Collaboration’s cool like that. What’s also interesting is the generational and class shifts that can occur with a little prompting. A 21-year-old Webster U. student, helping a friend out with a project. And 74-year-old retiree, now caring for his ailing wife. On the surface, these two wouldn’t have much to discuss. But sit them down next to one another, allow for the ice-breaking (and ice-melting) presence of a drink and soon… an interesting conversation develops.

Next week, we’ve got another couple of pieces booked, with Wednesday being a live music shoot. An underappreciated restaurant will be featured later in the week. Looking forward to see what kinds of talks and brief breakthroughs we can develop as we go along.

Video Field Work: Gurung Bazaar

This spring, I’m working with Webster University student Tyler DePerro to create a handful of South Side documentaries. They’ll mostly be little drop-ins on people, places and things of interest around these parts. Yesterday was our first jaunt, as DePerro brought out a pair of fellow Webster students to serve as crew. We visited a new, small corner store at the intersection of Grand and Chippewa, though the address is on So. Grand, as part of the old Nettie’s Flowers complex there.

The store is Gurung Bazaar, owned by Rajiv Gurung and run by himself and his family. Gurung was the second person of Bhutanese descent to come through the doors of the International Institute, around four years ago. He estimates that 600-700 Bhutanese are now in Saint Louis, many of them having come here after years of refuge in Nepal. That was, in fact, he own route to Saint Louis, having lived in Nepal for over a dozen years. Since arriving in Saint Louis, he’s worked a variety of jobs, in shops and restaurants, before deciding to open a store this spring.

His little market is an interesting one. With a bus stop located directly across the street, he definitely sees a lot of customers walk in for only item: a bag of chips, a pack of smokes, a soda pop. But he also stocks a large amount of central Asian food, so the Mars Bars and Doritos are sharing inventory space with Halal goat cubes, packets of cumin and curry and a host of different rices.  They’ve also got a few Indian movies, small Buddha figurines and Tibetan prayer flags. Enough to keep the space visually interesting, creating that mix of old world favorites found alongside the classic, urban corner store. Located just a long-block’s walk from the Institute his mix makes a lot of sense.

Behind his shop is a mostly-untouched piece of the old Nettie’s property. Looking past the weathered window boxes, you see the remains of the landmark flower store still inside. At some point, Gurung hopes to use this space for a restaurant, though that won’t be for awhile. He’s still concentrating on the shop.

As we left, a neighborhood resident came in. He bought an interesting assortment of products, including incense. His arrival was the most notable of the day, because he came to the store for a specific need and then bought a couple more items, as well. His dollars went into the till and helped a new business make more than a few cents profit on the exchange.

We’ll post the video results in not so very long.

In the meantime, consider spending a few dollars at Gurung Bazaar. They’re working hard over there.

Prairie Be Gone

I’m paranoid. It’s well-known and established, this.

Yesterday, I took a picture of the prairie up the block. Was seen doing so. Within 45-minutes, the lawn was standard issue, all the grasses taken down from their glorious, mismatched beauty and given the close shave. Simple bit of random kismet. Oh, sure.

Sure.

Grass with Sass

Out of order, my curmudgeon days came early. At 28, if you’d have shown me a splash of graffiti on an isolated wall in the middle of nowhere, you’d have seen a fellow’s face turn crimson. My sensibilities were distraught by every manner of urban slight. Littering. (Which still annoys, true.) Broken streetlights. Weed trees grown into actual trees. Kids with their pants hung low. We all have our things.

Nowadays, some of the miscellaneous offenses are sliding away into indifference. Even fandom.

Let’s consider grass. Born and bred of South Side German stock, I once visually demanded a trimmed yard, not just for my own property, but for everyone’s . These days, a bit of green fringe is coming up high along the western edge of my crib. To my eye, it looks pleasing somehow. A bit untamed, but not fully wild. And the grass growing around the fire hyrdant out front? Yup, it’s movin’ on up, too. Doesn’t bother me a bit.

By way of another story, these two young cats live down the block from me. They work at a restaurant I frequent, so their service industry hours are all over the place. Seeing their front yard, I’ve come to know that they’re not fully committed to keeping it as a golf course level. But just today, I found myself passing by and marveling at the beauty. Flowers had grown amidst the rest of it all, blossoming in vivid whites and yellows. The variations in height were interesting, with all manner of different greens checking in at cascading levels. Were I an inspector, I’d probably stop with a different emotion. Today, though, I was really touched by it.

As two gents sat on lawn chairs nearby, out back of their packed scrapper’s truck, I stopped and snapped two pictures. Moments later, one of the residents was dropped off. If he saw me shutterbuggin’, he probably thought that I was clicking a pic to send to the City.

Not so. I dig his urban prairie right now. It’s got height. And character.