Monday, September 22, 2025

the diner downstairs where nobody really went;
the bar across the street that poured Domaine du Page for a while;
the walk by the museum and the library and through Grand Army Plaza to the park;
the diner where people lined up for stacks of flavored pancakes while humming that Suzanne Vega song;
the fancy-pants cocktail bar where the bartenders wore suspenders and we all happened to meet up at the end of our makeshift bachelors parties;
the test prep and people watching in the grass;
the smell of wort on the walk to the C;
the ice cream shop next to the Q;
the no-man’s land on the long trek to the 2/3;
the beverage distributor around the corner that fed our budding love of beer;
the homebrew shop that happened to open one more block down Washington;
the park never too far away;
the vintage shop on Vanderbilt where we found my wedding jacket;
the spot between Park and Sterling where Herc would always give up on walking all the way to the park;
the walks back and forth down St Marks or Prospect for a beer or a game;
the New Year’s Eve stumbles home;
the Hair of the Dog brunches;
the chilly last-grasp of summer evenings as the sun sets behind Prospect Park West;
the warm walks back at dusk;

---

love notes
a ritual to start the week