![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mighty river
Jun. 4th, 2003 09:04 amRandom thought of the morning ...
The Mississippi River might as well be two completely different bodies of water here and in St. Louis. I was really struck when Susan and I went to Mississippi Nights last weekend. Here, in downtown Minneapolis, I walk across the river on a regular basis. The riverfront is clean and sterile, home of yuppie townhouses and a few mill ruins. The river itself is a small, calm thing, running virtually unnoticed through town.
In St. Louis, there's a grit and grime to the riverfront that doesn't exist here at all. When you park on Laclede's Landing, you smell the river the minute you get step out of the car. You can hear the river rushing by, always in the background, no matter how many voices fill the air.
The St. Louis Mississippi has always scared me just a bit, in a good way. Maybe that's because I still look at it with a child's eyes. There's danger in the river, and on the other side of the river, too. (Cross the river downtown, and you're in East St. Louis, someplace you'd rather not be if you're not armed.) I remember childhood field trips to the Arch, standing out in the courtyard, watching the boats on the river, smelling the dirty air, which permeated everything no matter how much landscaping and rehabbing they did to the area. We never got to go to the Landing on school trips - that was an adult place, full of bars and cigarettes and dark places. Occasionally, we'd go to the Spaghetti Factory with the family, and we'd look around with huge eyes as we walked down the cobblestone streets, wondering what was there, and how old we'd have to be before we could wander around and find out what was behind all those dark doors.
Being an Anita Blake fan, it's always struck me as very right that Jean Claude does his business on the Landing. Such a romantically dirty place. I have no problem imagining vampires and other non-humans lurking in the shadows.
Every city is defined by the bodies of water it resides on. Despite the fact that no fewer than three rivers run through the Twin Cities, this is a community based around lakes. The rivers are just afterthoughts. Lakes are upscale things, meant for lazy fishing expeditions and weekend sailing jaunts. It's a different kind of romance. Sometimes, I miss the strange thrill of a real river town. There aren't that many shadows here to fantasize about.
The Mississippi River might as well be two completely different bodies of water here and in St. Louis. I was really struck when Susan and I went to Mississippi Nights last weekend. Here, in downtown Minneapolis, I walk across the river on a regular basis. The riverfront is clean and sterile, home of yuppie townhouses and a few mill ruins. The river itself is a small, calm thing, running virtually unnoticed through town.
In St. Louis, there's a grit and grime to the riverfront that doesn't exist here at all. When you park on Laclede's Landing, you smell the river the minute you get step out of the car. You can hear the river rushing by, always in the background, no matter how many voices fill the air.
The St. Louis Mississippi has always scared me just a bit, in a good way. Maybe that's because I still look at it with a child's eyes. There's danger in the river, and on the other side of the river, too. (Cross the river downtown, and you're in East St. Louis, someplace you'd rather not be if you're not armed.) I remember childhood field trips to the Arch, standing out in the courtyard, watching the boats on the river, smelling the dirty air, which permeated everything no matter how much landscaping and rehabbing they did to the area. We never got to go to the Landing on school trips - that was an adult place, full of bars and cigarettes and dark places. Occasionally, we'd go to the Spaghetti Factory with the family, and we'd look around with huge eyes as we walked down the cobblestone streets, wondering what was there, and how old we'd have to be before we could wander around and find out what was behind all those dark doors.
Being an Anita Blake fan, it's always struck me as very right that Jean Claude does his business on the Landing. Such a romantically dirty place. I have no problem imagining vampires and other non-humans lurking in the shadows.
Every city is defined by the bodies of water it resides on. Despite the fact that no fewer than three rivers run through the Twin Cities, this is a community based around lakes. The rivers are just afterthoughts. Lakes are upscale things, meant for lazy fishing expeditions and weekend sailing jaunts. It's a different kind of romance. Sometimes, I miss the strange thrill of a real river town. There aren't that many shadows here to fantasize about.
