There is a new art gallery opening next door to where I work. I'm convinced it's a front, just like the restaurant on the other side which is always completely devoid of patrons. The reason I know it's not a real art gallery is because the ceramics on display in the window are grotesquely bad. There's no way these people are for real. All of the sculptures look like someone slapped a few chunks of clay down, poked their fingers in them in a couple of places, painted them in water left over from cleaning paintbrushes, then fired them. They're ludicrous. I'm not the only one who finds them bafflingly bad, either. My whole office is bemused, and so are the people who run the Polish deli on the corner.
"You t'ink that's art?" Renata said to me today, scoffing as she reached for the pickles. "That's not art, that's a bad joke!" I agreed, and we amused ourselves hugely by coming up with possible explanations for each of the lumps of pottery. I eat at the Polish deli about once a week; Renata and I exchange gossip the whole time she's making my sandwich when she's not shouting in Polish to the other customers. I love that deli. The owner, Richard, is always extremely cheerful and happy to see everyone. I have a little rotation system for the restaurants nearby, and I'm on good terms with the staff at all the Salvadoreno and Mexican places, the Polish and Lebanese delis, and the Korean coffeeshop. I often choose where to eat based on who I haven't seen lately. The only restaurant where the owners and staff don't seem interested in their clientele is the Indian place. I don't eat there very often as a result.
The street I work on is small, only 8 blocks long, and the stores that line the main street are family owned. Many of them have been there for years. My own company celebrated its 27th year in business today. They've seen the street go from brightly modern to sadly run-down and gentrified back again. It's pleasant to walk under the big old trees and have the various shop owners and county workers wave hello as we pass on the sidewalk. It's a curious little oasis of small town goodness surrounded by gritty poverty, old monied enclaves, and high tech warehouse. I like it very much there.
I really hope the new art gallery isn't a front. I'd hate to see the neighborhood's unity take a step backwards.
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