One
of my favorite books on how towns and cities work is called The Great Good Place: Cafes, Coffee Shops,
Community Centers, General Stores, Bars, Hangouts and How They Get You Through
the Day. It was written in 1989 by
Ray Oldenburg, a retired professor of planning and has been re-printed several
times (adding “Beauty Parlors” to the already weighty title.) His thesis is
that modern life suffers from the lack of informal neighborhood gathering
places (such as Curley’s Diner,) He calls them socially necessary “third
places,” (in addition to home and work) and goes so far as to blame our current
high divorce rate on their absence (too much “togetherness.”) He also claims
that democratic societies need gathering places where people can share
information and discuss politics. The book’s a great read, one where you find
yourself shaking your head in agreement every other sentence. It’s all so
obvious when Oldenburg points it out. He blames the exclusionary zoning of the
past sixty years for preventing these natural “homes away from home” from
developing - modern tract housing subdivisions that forbid any commercial uses
– even ones that meet community needs.
Curley’s is the
quintessential home away from home, at least for me. If I’m down in the dumps,
for whatever reason, I go to Curley’s. I am immediately fed, nurtured,
entertained and informed as to what dirty deals are going on in City Hall. You
can’t get that at Dunkin’ Donuts (and Curley’s coffee is better too.) The
current owners, Maria and Eleni, Greek-born sisters, bought the Diner more than
thirty-five years ago from a bald Swede named (what else?) “Curley”(maybe he
had lots of hair when he started out) and have run it almost single-handedly
ever since. There’s not much turnover in staff; the only way the cooks and
waitresses seem to leave is when they die. After your second or third visit you
become “family” and are known by name and by food preferences (i.e. coffee with
meal, not before). I go there at least once a week, coming home from the $8.95
three-course lunch with a full stomach and enough extra food for two additional
meals. It’s not gourmet, but it’s good home cooking, and, in fact, it’s a lot
better than my home cooking.
Curley’s has its regulars:
the lawyers and businessmen who have been breakfasting there for at least a
dozen years originally came after exercising at the nearby “Y.” They are now
along in years and I don’t think they do much exercising any more, but they do
thrash out local goings-on, as do the other regulars. I often meet my artist
friends there in the morning before we go to our studios (alone) and every few
weeks I have Sunday brunch with three “menfriends” - two lawyers and a retired college
professor. We go after the morning church crowd has left and usually sit around
for several hours (undisturbed) discussing philosophy, literature and
politics. I see the same people there
week after week – it’s Ray Oldenburg’s “home away from home” for me, a Great,
Good Place.
Curley’s not only provides
me with company, I get subject matter for my artwork. I rarely take photographs
(although no one seems to notice when I do) but I feast my eyes on all the
characters in the place, mostly over-abundant women and tired men who’ve
obviously had hard lives. I did try to
photograph a new waitress last week - she looked like she should have been on a
chorus line - but just as I lined up the perfect shot, the battery quit on me –
a message from the gods. Fortunately, she registered on my retina and will turn
up one day (unbidden) in a painting.
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