One For My Relatives

This is for my family. I know you are out there, reading this blog, even if you never comment. You know who you are. Yeah. I'm talking to you.

The rest of you guys, just skip this one, OK?
I went to visit my mom the other day and she managed to make a whole sentence. Now, while this may sound good to you, it was a heartbreaker to me. What she said was:

"I'm afraid to look at you because I don't know if you're really here."

On the one hand, I'm tempted to think that was a prime example of a million monkeys with typewriters, eventually banging out something that makes sense. On the other hand, it makes a little too much sense for a million monkeys.

The real question, of course, is who did she think she was seeing?

Anyway, the RLA took some photos of us together. I love this one. You can imagine that she's aware of me in this.



In other family-related news, an astute reader sent me a copy of a letter published in the Stuart News, advocating tearing down the old Stuart Department Store to build a parking garage for downtown.

Here's the letter I wrote in response:

My grandfather, Oscar Kanarek, built the Stuart Department Store in 1954, replacing his earlier building (originally Kitching's store). It was built across the street from the railway station (gone, just like passenger service on the FEC railroad). For thirty years, the pink building was a landmark in downtown Stuart (closed with the opening of the Treasure Coast Mall). Many of the other businesses of my childhood are gone too: The Seahorse Drugs, The Pink Pony restaurant, Gay's Jewelers.

I know that my family no longer owns the building, nor do we have rights to the collective memories of the town. However, as a resident of Miami, I now watch as, daily, the historic buildings of this city are bulldozed to make way for bigger, larger, more. One hopes for more sensitivity to history in Stuart.

The Stuart Department Store was a beautiful example of what architectural historians call MiMo, or Miami Modern. It was a particular style, derived from Art Deco, and very much of its time (Mid-Century) and place. The low, horizontal concrete eyebrow was both ornamental and useful in keeping the windows shaded from the tropical sun. The original interiors had organically shaped ceiling areas, wonderful daisy-shaped flourescent lights, terrazo foors. The original exterior had both strong verticals and wide expanses of glass, both elements of MiMo. And, it was pink.