Miss me? Thanks to a death in the family, I've been out of touch and out of town the past little while, and am just now getting home and catching up. If you had tried to get my attention at any point in the past week and it didn't work, try again.

I spent the weekend and a little in the St. Louis area for the burial and visiting family, and managed to snag a free afternoon. Before leaving, I asked a St. Louis native for some destinations, and was pointed towards the University City Loop area. When my mother suggested visiting the Arch (again), I was therefore prepared for an escape, having verified with a cousin that I could get to U.City by rail (It's almost like a civilized country or something...), and was dropped off by the family caravan on their way to the arch.

The St. Louis metrolink is quite nice, from my limited experience. As I walked up to the ticket kiosk at the park-and-ride station in the Illinois exurbs, the PA announced a 30 second warning for the next inbound train; if a brand-new user can have a ticket and be on the train in 30 seconds, I consider the system to be fairly well-designed from a user interface standpoint. (Granted, I didn't stop to figure out whether this was a train I actually wanted to be on - but it turns out there are only two lines, in a Y-shape, so it's hard to go wrong.)

By the time I hit the arch area stop (in about 75% of the time it took for the family to get there and park), the train was full, at 2pm on a Saturday, with about 20-30 people getting on and a similar number off at each downtown/University City stop, with riders a mix of the airport-bound, tourist types, and on their way to work, judging by dress and accessories. I hopped off at the node of the Y to ask a security guard which leg I needed to be on (the one I got off, just one stop further), and had about a 12 minute wait until the next train. All in all, a pretty nice system. (Yes, I travel to other cities so that I can marvel at their mass transit. Shut it.)

The U.City Loop area (which seemed pretty linear to me) is St. Louis' version of Ann Arbor's South U/State/Liberty area, or Austin's drag on Guadalupe Street, though without an overt University presence right on the commercial street. (Washington University appears to be a few blocks south.) Also like the drag or South U, the loop appears to be headed over the hill of the gentrification roller coaster. Granted, there's the (not real securely, ahem) gated neighborhood adjacent to the loop that appears to be pretty old gentry, which I would assume to be the traditional faculty neighborhood, but the newish Starbucks, condominium loft advertisements, and "coming soon: the shoppes at delmar loop" development signs on vacant lots all point in the direction of imminent rent hikes. (Washington U has apparently been buying up rental housing in the area to preserve an affordable housing supply for students.)

The sense of impending ritz did not, however, prevent me from enjoring the services of several independent local businesses. Special praise goes to (and my money went to) the very no-nonsense Meshuggah Cafe, where my coffee was accompanied by discussion of a ballot proposal aimed at preventing the local hospital from building a parking structure in a park (some things you can't get away from); Subterranean Books, which doesn't have nearly the selection in my favorite sections that Shaman Drum can boast, but gets points for carrying both used and new books and for hosting a craft consignment area of Shadow Art Fair worthy items; and Vintage Vinyl, which is definitely among the best record stores I've been in. After browsing a bit and resisting various temptations, I sauntered up to a trio of employees. "Hiya, I'm from Detroit. If I take home one local album from St. Louis, what should it be?" The three of them, in unison, without hesitation, "Sex Robots!" Okay, I'm sold.

Sudden pouring rain proceeded to cut short my wanderings, and the family called, finished with the arch, to tell me they were going to come meet me for dinner at the root beer brewery, so I sacked out under an awning to read the Wendell Berry I'd picked up at Subterranean.

The final discovery of the evening - and perhaps not *quite* enough to make me up and move to St. Louis, but close - was finding out that St. Louis is within New Belgium's distribution area. That's right, boys and girls, in St Louis you can get Fat Tire on tap. So sorry, Oberon, but you'll never be better than second place with me.