A downtown story
Sewer Raccoons
Yes there are such things;
why else would we have devoted
seven + years to their existence?
Granted, our local raccoons are more
picturesque rather than in sewers, when they are swimming laps
in the mighty fox - and more readily seen
by locals willing to look,
but are more often spotted west of the Clinton
and Broadway bridge in the stretch
along the Riverwalk around the locus
of the former Main Street Studebaker showroom
and riverpoints Southwest.
and riverpoints Southwest.
Kendal Lofters might have lots of photo opps
come spring and summer
but the little rascals, as we know,
we've repeatedly told you,
enter the sewers via tight squeezes,
but once within their subterranean elements
have plenty of room to bustle about
especially at their hub meeting place -
a huge torch-lit congregating hall
beneath the old post office -
currently known as The Rotunda.
That's often where the sewer raccoons are
headed when they disappear into corner
sewer grates around the central part of town. We've told you
this; perhaps there is a shortage of belief, or forgetfulness?
You have only to be watchful.
They are there.
Presently there is a big renovation in Waukesha's downtown
on Clinton Street, which runs from Broadway to Wisconsin Ave.
That is where the known and marked Indian burial mounds
are located, in Cutler Park.
It has been thought that all the digging up of Clnton Street
so close to those burial of Indian artifacts and bones
could turn up additional buried archaeological finds
beneath the road surface.
The downtown street grid was formed from very early
native American trading post footpaths. The Five Points
are where the various trading trails converged
through the woodland forest.
Over centuries these foot paths became what they
are today, having previous eras of street car tracks
(now long paved over)
but before that, there were muddy unthoroughfares, then planks, then brick
pavers, etc.,....an evolution of paths turned to pavements
coming into the Five Points like spokes on a wheel.
Today Clinton Street is being excavated as we said
for utility replacements and fresh re-re-paving,
with improvements galore for old Clinton St. and its sidewalks.
Preservation-minded folks are concerned about
what may be turned up. Will there be ancient bones?
Arrowheads, shards of pottery, pieces of things bent just so, etc.?
Consequently we read in the local newspaper that there
are archaeologists watching the every move of the diggers,
hoping to save any objects of scientific interest,
to get to the items before they are shoveled away or
crushed under the grinding wheels of the
giant earth-moving machines working this narrow street.
Should evidence be uncovered and salvaged,
we hear that the project will be interrupted (!) while
the Five Point streets (trails) are further dug up
for what may be discovered.
tu prius negotium
This eventuality has some downtown merchants
going about their hampered-already businesses
with furrowed brows. They are hoping against hope
that nothing is found that will further slow the
flow of their commerce.
The restored to regular-tilt, busy sale
of artwork, coffee and designer sandwiches
cannot happen too soon.
Fortunately for these mercantile coin-changers
they have allies in the sewer raccoons.
The coons are working under cover of darkness
picking up the Indian bones, pottery shards
and the like - ahead of the workmen.
They are secreting them in places where they will
never be found. The raccoons want this big street project
finished fast, too. They want to resume their routines
just as much as their distant relatives,
the human purveyors of arty goods.
Now, you say, raccoons are not smart enough to
reason things out like these complexities,
and you are right.
They have an ancient raccoon king leading them,
(also mentioned on these SRN pages)
calling the shots as he's done for seven or more years.
The king spends his time entirely in the grand chamber
beneath the old post office now, for he has become blind.
He may be sightless but certainly not stupid.
He dispatches his raccoon minions
through the sewers and up through the grates
to do his purloining of goods that he 'sees' the coon
community needing,
slices of pizza in the gutters, discarded
drapery samples, grapes, pieces of things bent just so.....
and so out and up they go, the gentle burglars,
- being told specifically -
given shopping lists of what to look for.
The king does have the smarts for things
of this sort, AND, he has foreseen the urgency
of rescuing Clinton Street artifacts before
the human treasure hunters get to them.
'Everybody is happy'
those are his by-words.
Business for the merchants;
clear new sewers quickly laid
for the raccoons.
In the king's plan there are helpers
because this is a priority, an urgency
of highest degree.
Some of these assistants, people,
are motivated mainly by the milk
(coffee and tea) of human kindness.
TO BE CONTINUED
.......
Blizzard, Waukesha
The snow that falls so white and
fresh
The snow no matter how persevering
Snowbound in the city is an
anachronismWaukesha Wisconsin
until the handful of plow-equipped
trucksMilwaukee
The snow was dominant then, keeping
everyone blessedly
During cribbage games and radio
shows, the wind blew
negotiate the drifted valleys
formerly known
But now, when there is a forecast
of snow
loaded with tons of salt, waiting
at checkpoints, ready
The esthete dreaming of snow having
dominion
thanks to economies dedicated to
rumbling
keeping their sidewalks absolutely
clear
Over clear but gray-skied days,
whizzing traffic splatters
And you wish for another clean,
crippling snow, as in 1947
[DD]
Today,
we've repeatedly told you,
enter the sewers via tight squeezes,
but once within their subterranean elements
have plenty of room to bustle about
especially at their hub meeting place -
a huge torch-lit congregating hall
beneath the old post office -
currently known as The Rotunda.
That's often where the sewer raccoons are
headed when they disappear into corner
sewer grates around the central part of town. We've told you
this; perhaps there is a shortage of belief, or forgetfulness?
You have only to be watchful.
They are there.
Presently there is a big renovation in Waukesha's downtown
on Clinton Street, which runs from Broadway to Wisconsin Ave.
That is where the known and marked Indian burial mounds
are located, in Cutler Park.
It has been thought that all the digging up of Clnton Street
so close to those burial of Indian artifacts and bones
could turn up additional buried archaeological finds
beneath the road surface.
The downtown street grid was formed from very early
native American trading post footpaths. The Five Points
are where the various trading trails converged
through the woodland forest.
Over centuries these foot paths became what they
are today, having previous eras of street car tracks
(now long paved over)
but before that, there were muddy unthoroughfares, then planks, then brick
pavers, etc.,....an evolution of paths turned to pavements
coming into the Five Points like spokes on a wheel.
Today Clinton Street is being excavated as we said
for utility replacements and fresh re-re-paving,
with improvements galore for old Clinton St. and its sidewalks.
Preservation-minded folks are concerned about
what may be turned up. Will there be ancient bones?
Arrowheads, shards of pottery, pieces of things bent just so, etc.?
Consequently we read in the local newspaper that there
are archaeologists watching the every move of the diggers,
hoping to save any objects of scientific interest,
to get to the items before they are shoveled away or
crushed under the grinding wheels of the
giant earth-moving machines working this narrow street.
Should evidence be uncovered and salvaged,
we hear that the project will be interrupted (!) while
the Five Point streets (trails) are further dug up
for what may be discovered.
tu prius negotium
This eventuality has some downtown merchants
going about their hampered-already businesses
with furrowed brows. They are hoping against hope
that nothing is found that will further slow the
flow of their commerce.
The restored to regular-tilt, busy sale
of artwork, coffee and designer sandwiches
cannot happen too soon.
Fortunately for these mercantile coin-changers
they have allies in the sewer raccoons.
The coons are working under cover of darkness
picking up the Indian bones, pottery shards
and the like - ahead of the workmen.
They are secreting them in places where they will
never be found. The raccoons want this big street project
finished fast, too. They want to resume their routines
just as much as their distant relatives,
the human purveyors of arty goods.
Now, you say, raccoons are not smart enough to
reason things out like these complexities,
and you are right.
They have an ancient raccoon king leading them,
(also mentioned on these SRN pages)
calling the shots as he's done for seven or more years.
The king spends his time entirely in the grand chamber
beneath the old post office now, for he has become blind.
He may be sightless but certainly not stupid.
He dispatches his raccoon minions
through the sewers and up through the grates
to do his purloining of goods that he 'sees' the coon
community needing,
slices of pizza in the gutters, discarded
drapery samples, grapes, pieces of things bent just so.....
and so out and up they go, the gentle burglars,
- being told specifically -
given shopping lists of what to look for.
The king does have the smarts for things
of this sort, AND, he has foreseen the urgency
of rescuing Clinton Street artifacts before
the human treasure hunters get to them.
'Everybody is happy'
those are his by-words.
Business for the merchants;
clear new sewers quickly laid
for the raccoons.
In the king's plan there are helpers
because this is a priority, an urgency
of highest degree.
Some of these assistants, people,
are motivated mainly by the milk
(coffee and tea) of human kindness.
TO BE CONTINUED
.......
Blizzard,
[DD]
Dingy coral in gutter 3-11-14
Note red Xmas onament still holding forth
on dead evergreen boughs
leading me to muse: DEAD EVERGREEN?
The planter ice perforce releases its grip.....
spring approaches
spring approaches
.......
Chinese Restaurant
After an argument, my family always dined at the Chinese
restaurant. Something about the Orient washed the bitterness
away. Like a riverbank where you rest for awhile. The owner
bowed as we entered. The face of one who had seen too much.
A revolution. The torture of loved ones. Horrors he would never
reveal. His wife ushered us to our table. Her steps smaller than
ours. The younger daughter brought us tea. The older one took
our orders in perfect English. Each year her beauty was more
delicate than before. Sometimes we were the only customers
and they smiled from afar as we ate duck and shrimp with our
chopsticks. After dinner we sat in the comfort of their silence.
My brother told a joke. My mother folded a napkin into the shape
of a bird. My sister broke open our cookies and read our fortunes
aloud. As we left, my father always shook the old man's hand.
restaurant. Something about the Orient washed the bitterness
away. Like a riverbank where you rest for awhile. The owner
bowed as we entered. The face of one who had seen too much.
A revolution. The torture of loved ones. Horrors he would never
reveal. His wife ushered us to our table. Her steps smaller than
ours. The younger daughter brought us tea. The older one took
our orders in perfect English. Each year her beauty was more
delicate than before. Sometimes we were the only customers
and they smiled from afar as we ate duck and shrimp with our
chopsticks. After dinner we sat in the comfort of their silence.
My brother told a joke. My mother folded a napkin into the shape
of a bird. My sister broke open our cookies and read our fortunes
aloud. As we left, my father always shook the old man's hand.
"Chinese Restaurant" by David Shumate, from The Floating
Bridge. © University of Pittsburgh Press, 2008
The dismantling of ink presses
.......
The dismantling of ink presses
