Surprises. I love 'em. Take today. Walked downtown. (Literally. It's a hundred or so feet downhill.) Figured I'd do a post on the walk. Then Sharlot Hall lured me in for more photography. Another possible post. However, I needed a telephone to call a cab to visit Mom.
And discovered, wonder of wonders, that
Prescott Coffee Roasters was open. Of a Sunday afternoon. Full of people. And a guitar player. In I went.
On the left at the entrance, big decorated drops of water to Save the Verde river. Causes and coffee houses have always been a matched pair. Can't say I disagree with this particular Cause.
Here's the scene looking toward stage front. This was one of the many shows currently being organized by
Silver Wolfe, who also compiles the local arts & entertainment listings for
Read It Here, among other activities.
I couldn't resist looking up at that wonderful pressed tin ceiling. Roasters is in the old shopping strip just west of the creek on Gurley Street.
The guitarist/songster/harmonicist is
Paul Sprawl. One of his songs dealt with a homeless misfit he met twice in 10 years, the second time as both walked down the railroad tracks toward each other. What could be more reminiscent of Woody Guthrie and Pete Seeger. But back in those early days of folk music, we had hoboes, not homeless and there was a certain element of dash and romance associated with the country's wanderers. No more. Now it is largely mawkish capital-C Concern. Not from this guy, by the way. But then he considers himself a vagabond.
Of course, coffee-and was available.
Art work, too. By someone(s) very much into the deep sea: mantas (above) and cephalopods (below.)
Part of the art that forms the frieze at the front of the shop. Below, the machine that gives the shop its name.
I certainly applaud the return of the coffee house. Reminds me of my youth; it even reminds my daughter of her very early years, when she learned the body language of chess long before she understood the game. We were having dinner at The Raven last week after the Lippizaner show. Daughter looked around at the decor, the musicians and the customers and wondered where were the chess and go players. Pity -- I suppose that the laptop has replaced the game board. And on this note of nostalgia, I also find myself wondering if the No Exit, which served at least two generations of rebels in North Chicago/Evanston, survived to enjoy the modern renaissance of the coffee house. Anybody know?
And discovered, wonder of wonders, that Prescott Coffee Roasters was open. Of a Sunday afternoon. Full of people. And a guitar player. In I went.
On the left at the entrance, big decorated drops of water to Save the Verde river. Causes and coffee houses have always been a matched pair. Can't say I disagree with this particular Cause.
Here's the scene looking toward stage front. This was one of the many shows currently being organized by Silver Wolfe, who also compiles the local arts & entertainment listings for Read It Here, among other activities.
I couldn't resist looking up at that wonderful pressed tin ceiling. Roasters is in the old shopping strip just west of the creek on Gurley Street.
The guitarist/songster/harmonicist is Paul Sprawl. One of his songs dealt with a homeless misfit he met twice in 10 years, the second time as both walked down the railroad tracks toward each other. What could be more reminiscent of Woody Guthrie and Pete Seeger. But back in those early days of folk music, we had hoboes, not homeless and there was a certain element of dash and romance associated with the country's wanderers. No more. Now it is largely mawkish capital-C Concern. Not from this guy, by the way. But then he considers himself a vagabond.
Of course, coffee-and was available.
Art work, too. By someone(s) very much into the deep sea: mantas (above) and cephalopods (below.)
Part of the art that forms the frieze at the front of the shop. Below, the machine that gives the shop its name.
I certainly applaud the return of the coffee house. Reminds me of my youth; it even reminds my daughter of her very early years, when she learned the body language of chess long before she understood the game. We were having dinner at The Raven last week after the Lippizaner show. Daughter looked around at the decor, the musicians and the customers and wondered where were the chess and go players. Pity -- I suppose that the laptop has replaced the game board. And on this note of nostalgia, I also find myself wondering if the No Exit, which served at least two generations of rebels in North Chicago/Evanston, survived to enjoy the modern renaissance of the coffee house. Anybody know?
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8 comments:
Google is Your Friend: The No Exit Cafe
Humph -- history somewhat rewritten! The write-up said that Go became a big deal in aught-72. For heavens' sake, we were hearing about the murderous style of Korean Go players the nephew played at the Exit back in the mid 60s! Thanks for the link. I figured the No Exit would still be around, if brought into the new century. Bet that laptops have replaced game boards there, too.
That coffee house of yours sounds great - would love to make a leisurely visit
Come any time! It's located right by the bridge across the creek -- a bonnie spot.
Nice read and a nice place to stop by for a cup.
Yes, indeed. They even have a couple of tables and benches out on the sidewalk and soon will have a patio out back. For the smokers, I suspect, who gather there.
Lots of fun events at Roasters these days! I am grateful for the new owners, Rich and Gayle Gregory, who have made it all possible!
SILVER WOLFE
It seems to me that you are an important one to thank for many of those events...
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