Down on Fourth Avenue
To get everyone started, a remembrance:
Down on Fourth Avenue
I remember standing in my room at midnight
Trying to turn the heater on
There was this kelly green vinyl chair in our little living room
It looked great with the orange futon*
Through the long, lonely nights the radiator clanged
At 8 every weekend morning, nearby church bells rang
Down on Fourth Avenue
In the summer, my window air conditioner
I couldn’t plug it in the wall**
Well I’d park in the driveway beneath a window
My car was dented by its sudden fall
Unlike all the other houses, ours had no porch light
As I fumbled for my keys alone at night
Down on Fourth Avenue
And sometimes even now, when I’m feeling like I’m paying too much rent
I drift back in time and I remember that porch made of cement
Down on Fourth Avenue
Down on Fourth Avenue
* “chair” didn’t rhyme
** at least without one of those unsafe two-prong adapters that you can’t even buy anymore
I apologize for my poor rhyming and lousy meter; too much work to do to spend too much time on this. However, since Main St. is a more amusing target:
Wandered into Conor’s on a frozen Friday
Like a party without the cheer
All the staff were rude and hasty that night
Spent $8 for a beer
“Sometimes I can’t believe how much I have to pay,”
Says the former hippie who now drives an SLK
Down on Main Street
Went out looking for groceries one night
But I never found a single store
I couldn’t even find a parking space
With all the SUVs we needed more
Sunglass Hut and Crazy Wisdom have nothing that you need
And the scented candle-makers are makin’ out like thieves
Down on Main Street
And every time you see that street so empty and so cold
posted by Nick on January 9th, 2004 at 12:29 pmYou swear to God you’ll never meet an interesting soul
Down on Main Street
Down on Main Street
This isn’t exactly what you’re looking for, I guess…but not everyone has dire memories of the downtown.
I remember kissing under the million sparkly winter tree-lights
Trying not to shock the prudes
There was this small remainder bookstore, Afterwords,
Where we knocked the snow off shoes
For a long, warm hour we poked through the shelves,
Showed each other finds, and forgot ourselves,
Down on Main Street.
In the coffeeshops, the poseurs, and the artistes,
We used to mock them through the glass,
When I slipped on ice you’d pull my hand,
I cuddled close, let yuppies pass.
Unlike all the self-important glitter of café and store,
Small mitten-in-mitten walk meant something more,
Down on Main Street.
Like the ousted dim old office store, the former drugstore there,
posted by Dixie on January 10th, 2004 at 1:14 amSome memory of you’s in the snowy air
Down on Main Street.
Down on Main Street.
I remember lying on my futon at midnight
Trying to get myself to rest
There was this loud, rowdy party in the little club next-door
I listened while they did their stuff
Through the long, frigid nights they stopped my sleep
Their bodies slamming to that punk-rock beat
Down on Main Street
Outside the Heidelberg after the last call
The cops would watch ‘em get in cars
Well I’d watch outside after closing time
Trust me, walk if you go to bars
During the daytime scientologists ruled the street
I would avoid their block so they I did not meet
Down on Main Street
On the day I moved cross town I was tired and beat
I left the block dancing on happy feet
And left Main Street
Down on Main Street
I’m at a disadvantage because I don’t remember this song at all — sorry for the meter. And Dixie, I have memories like yours of Main Street, too….
posted by Anna on January 10th, 2004 at 10:21 amI remember trying to get some food at mid day
Trying to get myself some lunch
There sunburned fudgies everywhere they covered downtown
Corn dogs into their face they stuffed
Through all the fried carny-fare I wish there was something eat
A carnival of no-one I’d care to meet
Down on Main Street
Down on Main Street
In the craft boothes they had things on sticks
I’d chuckle as I walked on past
Well I fought through the crowd at lunch time
Past the four-dollar water booths
Unlike all the other smart townies
I wish I’d taken vacation this week
Stollers are running over my feet
Down on Main Street
Down on Main Street
And every time you see that street so jammed with shit
posted by Steven B. Cherry on January 10th, 2004 at 12:00 pmCraft-fair sellers are in search of more tasteless twits
Down on Main Street
Down on Main Street
Down on Main Street (apologies to Charles Bukowski)
I remember waking up on my stained mattress
in my old room at the Y
sock and holy t-shirt so smelly
puddle of cum on my belly
jaywalked across Fifth to the library
checked for butts under my feet
Down on Main Street
Down on Main Street
The Downtown club is long gone
my old room but a memory
the hookers and porno on Fourth Ave
they’re gone too
like the part time job I used to
now I panhandle for spare change
but can’t get within 10 feet
Down on Main Street
Down on Main Street
Now I’ve got my basement room
posted by mucho poetic gusto on January 12th, 2004 at 12:48 pmgot a toilet and a little space
shared with my sister and her cat
the beer depot’s gone and so’s my hair
so I got a stocking cap
all I’ve got is time on my hands
waiting for the summer heat
Down on Main Street
Down on Main street
I never put it together before, but last time I was there, I think there was still that seedy hotel near the forth/ann street area. That must be a holdover?
posted by Anna on January 12th, 2004 at 12:58 pmAnna, that was the Downtown Club, formerly (believe it or not) was the A2 YMCA. Now I think it’s offices. Maybe Washtenaw County offices?
The Downtown Club was the last privately owned SRO downtown (The Y is publicly supported). It was seedy, but it served it’s purpose. The liberal do gooders in A2 essentially closed it down as part of the gentrification of the Kerrytown area. You know those kinds of places give A2 a bad name.
posted by mucho gusto on January 12th, 2004 at 1:32 pmI think she may be recalling the Embassy Hotel at the corner of Fourth and Huron. It’s still there. Still seedy. Anyone know the history of that place?
posted by David on January 12th, 2004 at 2:07 pmYeah - the Embassy. Thanks, David.
I think the Downtown Club was long gone by the time I got to AA in 1990.
posted by Anna on January 12th, 2004 at 7:21 pmUh, have any of the coddled middle class posters on this thread ever resided in said “seedy” residence hotel? Or any “seedy” hotel anywhere? Have any of you ever been in a situation where that was your housing of last resort?
All those “seedy” comments smack of elitism.
posted by mucho gusto on January 13th, 2004 at 6:46 amMucho, I know you’re itching for a fight, but I have a grant deadline. Sorry. I’ve been in the Embassay. in fact, I had a friend who was living there for a time, and I think he would agree. Would you prefer, “dilapidated” or “drug infested” to “seedy”?
posted by Anna on January 13th, 2004 at 10:22 amI haven’t lived in a place like the Embassy (or Spartan Hall, which was the East Lansing equivalent). But I did live for a year in a Detroit house which, until shortly before my time there, was a rooming house for 11 junkies. And I have certainly stayed in seedy hotels infested with mice and cockroaches. Both in East Lansing and Ithaca, I sought and found housing at the very bottom edge of the market, the cheapest available, because it was all I could possibly afford.
posted by Larry Kestenbaum on January 13th, 2004 at 11:53 amHousing of last resort? My old high school buddy Gordon lived in a tent near the river for about six months. He and his associates could only afford to stay at the Embassy on Saturdays after football games when they’d cashed in all the bottles they’d picked up. They thought it was a pretty sweet place.
And the guy in the office next to me lived there for a week when he was between leases.
But me, being all coddled, I’ve always preffered to sleep in my car when I’m broke.
posted by David on January 13th, 2004 at 12:07 pmI lived in a pick up truck for almost a month and for a while in an old movie theater in Atlanta.
posted by mucho gusto on January 13th, 2004 at 9:36 pmMucho, Well don’t that top all? I guess you win. Congratulations!
posted by sammy on January 13th, 2004 at 10:55 pmThere goes mucho making assumptions again. What kinda jack-assed flame-bait is that?
posted by Steven B. Cherry on January 14th, 2004 at 1:16 pmDixie, as an employee of Afterwords I want to thank you for the mention of our store in your post. We rarely (read never) see our name in print. It is nice to know that someone knows we exist. Thanks.
posted by Anonymous on January 15th, 2004 at 1:02 pmSteverino, it’s the kind of jack assed flame bait that attracts jackasses like you. Face it, Ypsi is not cool and never has been since I lived there. Loser.
posted by mucho jackass gusto on January 15th, 2004 at 1:43 pmMucho,
I’m glad that you think that of Ypsi, would you please tell all your friends?
posted by Steven B. Cherry on January 15th, 2004 at 9:08 pmIf I had any.
Ypsi is to Ann Arbor is like the guy you know who attracts mosquitos on a picnic so you don’t get bit. You always want him as a friend.
posted by mucho gusto on January 15th, 2004 at 9:38 pmMucho, I must insist that you stay on-task. You were attacking me, and Gen-xers in general. not Ypsilanti. Thanks.
posted by Anna on January 16th, 2004 at 2:56 pmInsist all you want… flattery will get you nowhere with me
posted by you know who gusto on January 16th, 2004 at 6:32 pm