Finches!

In honor of the two hundredth birthday of Charles Darwin, I decided to become a bird watcher.  I envisioned myself somewhere between Darwin and Mark Bittner, taking walks around town figuring out which birds live where, and what they all like to do during the day, maybe even giving them names.  I also bought a finch feeder.  

Apparently, birds can be very particular about the types of seed they eat.  The nice folks at Wild Birds Unlimited (“we bring people and nature togeeeeether”) assured me that finches like a special type of seed that is grown only in Africa.  This sounds a bit like me claiming that I will only eat the finest escargot du Provence, but I guess finches are just kinda persnickety with their food.  I wonder how they got on prior to the intervention of my specially crafted finch feeder with rare imported seeds from the Kilimanjaro plains of Africa. 

Anyway, I’ve been trying out finch feeder locations for weeks now, but they just haven’t been showing up to the party, which makes me very sad.  Until today.  Today I witnessed the fashionably late arrival of Charles and Emma, my first finches.  I hope they liked the seeds.  I hope they tell their friends.

Update:  I think Charles and Emma, and one of their friends may actually be Pacific-slope Flycatchers.  

The Tavern

Josh Cross (Happy Birthday, Josh!) recently plugged this blog to a lot of Berk-a-lums, so I figured I’d give you all a little update on one of the Berk’s coolest features — The Tavern.  

In the folklore that surrounds this place, it is said that the Tavern was used as a speakeasy.  Prohibition, of course, ended in 1933, and the Berkemeyer was constructed in 1941, so it is much more likey, considering the whole space-time continuum, that the Tavern was constructed as a social room while alcohol was perfectly legal.  Since the earliest tenants of the Berk were soldiers stationed at nearby Camp San Luis (the town was flooded with these guys in 1942), I think it is likely that they made a social room for themselves there, complete with a bar and bar-be-cue.  

In more recent times, when the building was owned by the Franklin family and most of its tenants were RRM employees, the Tavern continued its use as the social hub of the building.  Discarded pictures show poker games, lip-sync concerts and other parties.  

Today, it is pretty much a shithole.  It’s just full of crap — you can’t even walk in there.  I hate messes.  So, I am hopeful that I can get the place cleaned up and organized by the summer time.  In the mean time, if you have any pictures of the place you’d like to share, feel free to send them.

It really is a world wide web

I may have mentioned that my neighborhood has a lot of great things to do, all in walking distance.  It’s true — I can buy socks, yarn, and get a shot of Bourbon all in about 15 minutes of walking.  Do you know what else is nearby?  AT&T.  Yes, the American Telephone & Telegraph company has an enormous service center right across the street from my house.  It is probably one of the largest, and yet overlooked buildings in town.  

I use AT&T for my internet service.  You would think that being so close to my service provider would be an advantage.  If I have a problem with my computer, I can walk 900 feet to the Mac store.  If I have problems with my camera, I can walk 1,500 feet to Jim’s Camera.  But if I want to walk somewhere to talk about my awful internet service, I have to get a passport.  Or call the Philippines.  That’s right, the call center is in the Philippines, so I am always careful to let the call center employee know, in between spelling my name for the third time and trying to describe how I can’t really use Hulu, that I have a Philippino family.  ”What city are you in?”  I’ll ask.  ”Oh I hear it’s really lovely over there, I’ve always wanted to visit (please don’t put me on hold again!).”  ”Your English is perfect.”  

I like the idea of giving business to the folks in the neighborhood.  (Talk to me later about ditching B of A).  If my new friends in the Philippines can’t help me watch 30 Rock without “buffering,” (buffering is the new tracking you guys) I might be walking across the street with a plate of cookies or a six pack or something to get one of these guys to fix it without the intervention of the Pacific Isles.

Photos from around town

 

The Berkemeyer Building on a winter night

Worn out shoes

Part of the appeal of living downtown — particularly in a town like SLO — is the ability to walk almost everywhere I need to go. For those of us in the architecture and planning fields, or those with a passion for all things “green,” the idea of walking, instead of driving, is nothing new. However, for those for whom a trip anywhere outside the confines of the home involves an automobile, the idea of walking most places may sound either hopelessly impossible or ridiculously idealistic.

Of course, most communities planned anytime after 1945 aren’t meant to be walked through — they are meant to be driven through.  So, while being on foot in San Luis Obispo can be quite liberating, being on foot in Bakersfield could be more of a punishment.  Choosing to live in the right city is the first step toward being an avid walker.  

What does the right city look like?  It’s probably dense, with narrow streets and lots of diversity in the building types.  There should be houses, apartments, stores, restaurants and civic buildings all within a half mile radius (some folks like to extend that radius to a mile) of your home.  It’s probably an inconvenient place to have an automobile.  Traffic will move slowly and there will inevitably be almost no place to park.  But that won’t matter, because moving about on foot will be a breeze. 

The following entries in this category will describe the experience of getting around the city on foot.

Magnolia Nigra

For a few months I’ve been taking care of the yard here at the Berekemeyer.  We had a gardener a while back, but he really didn’t seem to enjoy his work so much.  I, on the other had, love working in the yard.  And if I had a larger budget, I’m sure this place would be the next Lotus Land.  I don’t have a budget at all, actually, so I tend to spend the money I make on labor to buy plants.  I just tell myself the labor is actually a hobby.  And the plants that are going into the ground that I don’t own?  Please don’t lecture me on investments — does your 401k produce grapefruit sized blooms in January?  I rest my case.  

The photo above is a Magnolia Nigra, which will grow to be a moderately sized tree that is covered in beautiful blooms in the winter and early spring.  Like most of the plants I’ve bought, it came from the discount table at Pacific Home Improvement Center, where I am now on a first name basis with the nursery staff — which is a nice feeling (and yet another reason to never go to Home Depot).

Furniture from the trash

 

I found this awesome couch yesterday.  I’ve needed a couch to help make my studio a little more guest friendly, so this is a welcome addition to the place.  It is from the 50′s (Mid-Century-Modern is so hot right now you guys), has stripped velour fabric, and came from the garbage area downstairs.  

Yes, that’s right, this is a garbage couch.  If the thought of sitting on a couch that was rescued from an undeserved destruction is unappealing to you, that is just fine.  I won’t have you over for Manhattans and cigarettes ice water and whole-wheat pita.  

A few months back someone ditched a huge bronze framed mirror back there too.  I am beginning to think it’s the same person – and he’s kinda like the tooth fairy, but he deals in awesome antique furniture.  And instead of taking teeth, he’s been slowly making off with all of my hair.  If he throws in a mahogany credenza sometime, I’d say it’s a pretty fair trade.

Love thy neighbor

This is the second cake Lucy Whalen has brought me.  The first was the same kind of cake, but it was baked in a bunt pan and came with berries.  Lucy has also made me pasta.  For my part, I have brought Lucy flowers from the garden, picked up her newspapers when she is out of town, and done my best to give her something more engaging than a “hi” when passing her on the stairs.  

Some people make the effort of neighborliness easy, while others make the effort seem somewhat in vein.  Lucy is definitely one of the former.  She’s happy to talk about her day, gossip about the neighbors above and below and even leave the blinds open so we can see into her living room.  She won’t be staying with us much longer, but for the remaining months she is at the Berkemeyer, I hope she can make a few more cakes.

The Berkemeyer

 

The main staircase, still being refinished.

Built in that brief period after the Depression had all but ended, but before the Second World War had begun, The Berkemeyer is one of San Luis’s finest apartment buildings.  It consists of some delightfully designed studio and one bedroom apartments arranged around a simple courtyard.  There are many reasons to love the building.  Its location downtown makes it within walking distance to just about everything.  Its layout makes it easy to get to know the neighbors.  And its architecture reminds us that even in modest apartment buildings, some thoughtful details can make a leased space feel like a home.  

Expect more about this building in the future, I love to talk about it!