TALK OF THE TOWNS

talk

OF THE TOWNS

by bill beggs jr.

u. city

You know, I seem to have noticed a lot fewer fireflies in our U. City neighborhood this summer than I remember chasing at dusk and capturing by the dozen as a kid in the 1960s. Hordes of bees used to flit from clover blossom to clover blossom in our suburban yards, too. But pesticides and mowing to keep up with the Joneses or whoever the neighbors are kills off most of that stuff, flora and fauna both. Isn’t it great to kick back with your brew of choice, be it Bud Light or Lipton, and admire a lush, green yard bereft of bugs and weeds? OK, well, you’ll notice that our photo features not

only a pollen-dusted worker bee, but also the lowly dandelion, which we yank out or spray by the gazillions every spring. Then we spread grass seed and some sort of ‘turf builder,’ or the lawn guys at the apartment or condo complex take care of that, goodness gracious. But we need to worry more about bees, I posit, and not allergies from stings so much. (“What—me worry? The environment is all my great-grandkids’ problem, not mine. Right?”) Keen botanical minds figure the humble honeybee is responsible for annually pollinating untold billions of dollars’ worth of crops. Bees jonesing for nectar pollinate everything from noxious weeds like thistles to apple and peach trees. Without pollinators, plants continue to grow but cannot produce fruits and vegetables. Then, pesticides absorbed by plants, in turn, harm bees. These chemicals may remain in the food supply chain for years. Climate change can mess up crop planting schedules, which confuses pollinators. Insects have naturally keen instincts. We also screw those up by eliminating their habitat. We can’t all be rocket surgeons, but humans are supposed to be smart. We could cut back on pesticides and let dandelions flourish, even if that wouldn’t look as good.

south st. louis

My wife was born in St. Louis but graduated from high school in Fort Wayne, Indiana. Her younger brother was born in Fort Wayne and graduated from Notre Dame. So, they’re both capital ‘H’ Hoosiers, but neither could be considered a hoosier by any means. This usage baffled me when I moved here from Atlanta, where the insult was ‘redneck’ most of the time. Which brings us to the eyebrow-raising name of a sparkling new bar on Kingshighway in South City: The Golden Hoosier. With the classy neon signage in front, it’s obvious at first glance this is not a dive joint. It’s south of Uncle Bill’s Pancake House in the space once occupied by Southtown Pub, which served pretty good barbecue. Supposedly a hoosier is a lower-class person—that is, lower in the regional class hierarchy than you and most of your family, neighbors and friends. Hoosiers either live so far south they’re in the Memphis suburbs or across either river in St. Charles County or Illinois. They’re just NIMBY—Not in My Back Yard. So, back to The Golden Hoosier at 3707 S. Kingshighway Blvd. The owners had not returned a reporter’s phone call by press time, but according to the fellow who took the message, for the time being it’s an evening hangout with pub grub that opens at 4 p.m. So for a quick lunch, any hoosiers and wannabes will have to go back a few blocks north to the pancake house or a little farther to Courtesy Diner. I didn’t ask the Golden Hoosier dude what beers they have on tap, but from their website descriptions and photos, the bar is Art Deco. Is there Stag? I hear it’s a hoosier favorite. I drank my last beer in Illinois in March 1984, but it was an Old Style, which beer aficionados say is even worse. Anyhow, you might have to venture a stone’s throw from SLU and visit The Fountain on Locust for such vintage ambience.

kirkwood

You might think the National Museum of Transportation (TNMOT) is just home to greasy old trains and other obsolete ways to get around. Well, the big locomotives are kept pretty spic-and-span, thank you very much, as are Bobby Darin’s ‘dream car,’ streetcars not named ‘Desire,’ airplanes, and even a reassembled unit from the notorious Coral Courts, the metro’s legendary ‘motel no-tell’ from back in the day (now the site of a subdivision on Watson Road, east of where Crestwood Plaza used to be). Ahh, progress. Well, sort of. Getting back to the future, in just a few days you can see some of the hottest luxury sports cars in the known universe in the TNMOT upper lot, which is pretty darn close to the fine hamlet of Kirkwood at 2933 Barrett Station Road. You might want to tune up your jalopy for heading out there lickety-split, as the ND4SPD Exotic Car Club Show will vamoose quicker than you can say Viper, Ferrari, Porsche, McLaren and Lamborghini (plus, maybe even Bugatti?)—it’s this Saturday (July 31) from 10 a.m. to noon. Please obey the speed limit. You’re not Sammy Hagar, are you? You can drive even slower than 55, if you have to. Roads are kind of twisty and curvy out there.

☛TT trivia

TENNESSEE WILLIAMS WAS THE DRAMATIST’S PEN NAME. WHAT WAS HIS NAME AT BIRTH? (Cheaters never really win, remember, so pretend it’s 1945 and Google is the stuff of science fiction.)

LAST ISSUE’S Q&A

Where is the North American headquarters of AB InBev? In what year was the company’s great-great-great-(etc.) grandparent founded, and where is it based today? Here’s that big, fat softball we promised to toss you last time: The North American headquarters of AB InBev is right here in River City. Anheuser-Busch, after a fashion, moved to Belgium where Stella Artois and other beers have been brewed since 1366 in Leuven, where AB’s parent company is located.

PHOTO: SUZIE GORMAN

cwe

Tennessee Williams, to many critics and scholars America’s greatest 20th-century playwright, credited an oft-unhappy St. Louis experience for much of his art’s profound emotional impact. When asked later in life when he moved from St. Louis, he replied, “I never really left.” We could put that quotation in bold italics, underline it, then put it up in lights because the Tennessee Williams Festival marks its sixth anniversary next month. Williams, who passed away in 1983, is very much still here—thanks to veteran producer, casting director, acting coach, educator and actor Carrie Houk, who first staged Stairs to the Roof in 2014, and hasn’t looked back since. (This year’s fest—The Moon and Beyond: Tennessee Williams and the Central West End—is slated for Aug. 19-29.) Houk has aimed to extend the prolific artist’s profound influence beyond the 19 years in the city neighborhood that so shaded his oeuvre, not the least of which is The Glass Menagerie, the 1944 play that made Tennessee Williams a household name. After our pandemic year, when Houk et al. pivoted to take full advantage of old-school technology with productions on the radio, the festival returns live, with at least one unique and delightful wrinkle: Menagerie will be staged at The Tennessee, the very CWE apartment building where Williams and his family lived when they first moved here. “That we’re doing it there … ” Houk begins, thoughtfully. “Just standing on the fire escape gives me chills. It’s been a dream of mine. And we’re not going to let this one go.” Her dream might not have come true a few years ago, however, because the building at 4633 Westminster Place was once destined for the wrecking ball. Fortunately, a subsequent owner savvied its historic significance. With August’s weather being what it could be, theatergoers each will have a fan; that is, to actually fan themselves so they don’t succumb to the vapors. There also will be rain dates, depending on how long actors can remain in town. “The cast members will be lodging there,” Houk WILLIAMS, WHO PASSED AWAY IN 1983, IS VERY says. (Oh, if only walls could MUCH STILL HERE ... talk, one imagines creative souls would listen intently. Well, in this case, one might have to be persuaded otherwise. Note: For those with the most vivid of Williams fantasies, you, too, may book The Tennessee sometime—it’s in the Airbnb network.) Also at The Tennessee will be You Lied to Me About Centralia, a play by John Guare, which takes the Menagerie narrative further in any number of potential directions. Two matinees are slated. Scholarly presentations, readings, exclusive pre-theater dining, and even cocktail events with “TW-themed libations” are on tap, says Houk, along with a walking tour of sites prominent in Williams’ works and memoirs. For a comprehensive event schedule, pricing and ticket details, visit twstl.org. It all looks to be fabulous, whether you choose the entire feast or select à la carte. As Williams was quoted as saying, “There is a time for departure even when there’s no certain place to go.” &