My home is a home away from home.

[KB.]

“It is good to see you.” “It is good to see you too.”

My home is a home away from home.

I walk into a bar I haven’t stepped foot into for three months and besides a few questions here and there it is pretty much like I was there just yesterday. Every one smiled and looked happy to see me.

Every one.

It was like I had never left them. I haven’t really. As long as that little corner pizzeria is there I will always have a place to go in St. Louis. Some folks couldn’t understand how I could just sit in that place for three or four hours. It is the Center of the Universe; what more do you need to do other than sit there? I took a friend with me who has a friend that lives in St. Louis and who used to live right down the block from Joanie’s. Small world. She wrote her own story about the day. I’ll put a few of her words here and there; different perspective if you will.



“So many times, I've read stories about this place he calls the Center of the Universe. So many times, I have heard the name 'Joanie's' and wondered just how welcoming that place really is. I've read about so many people and seen the light in KB's eyes just talking about everyone up there. But there's something cold about reading such a warm story. There's something completely impersonal and unfeeling about reading the reasons that people and places are so endeared. Enchantment is never so real as it is when you feel it yourself.”

The light in my eyes? I had no clue; I guess it makes sense though.

“The Center of the Universe. Joanie's Pizzeria. Soulard, Missouri. Crazy how small this world is. I have this friend...we just spoke of her...her name is Stephanie. When I met her, she lived in Soulard, Missouri. I read a story of KB's once, and saw that name in his story...Soulard...So I asked Stephanie if she knew where Joanie's is. “Yeah, that's a couple of blocks away from where I used to live.” Wow. I tell KB this. I tell him that the next time he goes to St. Louis, I would like to go. So this weekend, he writes. Time for a short trip, he wrote. He was going to Soulard. A few hours later, I saw him, and he asked me if I wanted to go. I said yes. But inside I was freaking out. Was I ready to meet Stephanie? That was the only question on my mind. Knowing that meeting her would ultimately change my life, I almost opted not to go. I kept questioning if I was ready for that change. Fortunately, KB is persistent, and kept asking if I got a hold of her...if he hadn't been so persistent, I wouldn't have been...and I wouldn't be writing this right now.”

I am hard headed, stubborn, and always right. I am persistent. If it wasn’t for that persistence not only would she have not written that story but I never would have written any of mine either. I probably wouldn’t be sitting where I am right now, and I probably would have never been able to call the kindest and most gentle soul I have ever met my own; even if it was for just a short while. I suppose “short while” is not a true measure of time in this case. Call me a fool, but that look I am getting in one of those pictures from our trip, seems to echo a temptation of years of quiet unassuming friendship with that recently mentioned soul. Muse.

“She's so pretty. That was my first thought. She seems so soft spoken. The look in her eyes was almost like everything interested her, yet at the same time seemed so exhausted. Watching her, I loved catching that slow smile. There was something about the way she smiled that was so genuine. The thing that struck me the most was that she was everything I expected and then some. We never spoke, but I could see it. She was exactly the person I pictured in my head before I saw her, which made her that much more welcoming. I don't know if it's just me, but I can read a person just by watching...and the story I read was simply perfect and yet completely complex. She was real. I saw her. That's what amazes me the most....words don't do the thoughts justice. Sorry.”

Oh yes, never doubt she is real. Those stories are not bullshit. That place really is the Center of the Universe. Her hair isn’t long and blonde any more, but those blue eyes are still as bright, most days, as the July sky. That smile is slow but when it creeps up on you like Christmas morning there isn’t a thing you can do to save yourself.

I could drive that 600 mile round trip every single Monday for the rest of my life. Narrow ass be damned, the ache goes away as soon as I sit down at that bar.

“We made that drive in 3.5 hours. The way we got out of that car when we arrived left no time for me to continue dwelling on what to expect when we entered that building on the corner. It would be just moments until I walked through a set of doors that changed someone close to me's life...just moments before I would experience something that I didn't prepare myself for. And thank God for not being prepared.”

I don’t mess around on that drive. I leave early; if it is past noon when I walk in those doors then something bad happened.

“I entered those doors into a building that was romantically dark...the perfect ambiance. I was immediately greeted by a smile. And a genuine one at that. I stepped aside and just watched at that point. I watched the looks of recognition on each person's face as we made our way into the building. The smiles became even more genuine than they had been with me. Warm and inviting. I said very little while I was in there...I'm more of the type to observe my surroundings...and I wanted to observe the people and place KB speaks so highly of. I watched as each person's initial surprise was followed by the immediate change to routine. KB's drink was on the bar before I even took a chair. He lit a cigarette and pushed the menu aside. This was his niche of sorts...you could tell that he fit in there like he'd never left. I listened as he ordered that crispy chicken sammich I've read so much about. Made me smile. Everything was exactly as I imagined it, except far more warm than you could ever think...”

Surprise followed by routine. Do you know what that is? It is the best feeling in the world. I have been blessed to have experienced that feeling numerous times. Every time I come back to here, home away from home, I get that feeling. People always expect me to come back. When people in two different places always expect you to come back, remember you, are happy to see you, then you have obtained a little bit of your own personal paradise. There is a simple beauty in being expected. There is a pure pleasure in knowing that the people you love always expect you to walk in the door. Forget a fan faire filled homecoming. I will take initial surprise followed immediately by routine any day of the year.

“The thing that struck me was how welcome I felt. I entered half expecting to be treated the way a person is always treated at a restaurant...as if the waitress's job was just that: a job. But I sat down at the bar and couldn't think for the life of me what sounded good. I just knew I was cold and wanted to eat something warm. The girl behind the counter had one of those soothing, friendly voices...the kind that lets you know she's glad you're there, and that you aren't just a customer. She told me her favourites, which led me to my own hot roast beef 'sammich'. The food was fantastic...but even if it had not been, the people there made it such.”

Mandy is the third person from this half of me that has visited that corner bar. I bet you my left eye that the other two felt exactly the same way and that anyone else that walks in that door with me will as well. Don’t you want to go? Don’t you want to feel that warmth and see that slow smile? I know you want to see those blue eyes and experience the feeling of being welcomed as a friend rather than a customer.

I am going back on the 11th of December, they are having a pot luck, tell me a bar that you go to that has a pot luck for the neighborhood folks, and tell me about another bar that tells a once regular, now visitor to come on back for that neighborhood potluck. I think I will make my hot as hell; I am too sensitive to eat that, rotel. I’m going by myself this time, but I am sure I will go again in January, and February, and March, continue the pattern there and you get the idea.

“Again, I just watched...I watched as he went to sit down in the corner of the room where other people could join him. I watched as one by one they came by and sat to talk for a while. I watched as each person I read about smiled just by being around one another. Like I said, it was so warm in there. I felt as if they would remember me too, even though I was there for such a short time. I felt like I could walk in next time without KB and they would remember me...that is how welcoming that place is.

It was surreal in a sense. KB told me he didn't see it that way...that it was just ...normal. But I pointed out that it's the same as him entering my story and meeting the people in it...it would be an experience all its own. Surreal is the only good word, although it hardly does the experience justice. I think there are no words to explain it unless you are there yourself. But honestly, it's right where you want to be. Maybe not that building per se...Not everyone can make Joanie's mean so much. But my experience there helped me to realize later on that night when I got home, that I loved it...and I want my own Joanie's. I told KB that on our way back...I want amazing stories. I want a place that you'll read about and wonder if it feels just the way it sounds.”

There is only one Joanie’s, but I suppose you can make your own; reproductions are never as valuable as originals though. It isn’t the food or the brick and mortar. It isn’t the location or the romantic ambiance. It is simply the people behind the bar, the amazing women running up and down the stairs in their Joanie’s shirts, it is the people in the kitchen and the people that walk in that may not know your name but they know your face. It is the people that walk in that may not know your face but they know your name. It is that one special person that changed your life with the way she was smiling at a new baby.

“KB has taught me a lot. In a sense, KB is a lot of what I'm becoming. In a sense. Clearly, there are things that he is that I will never be...likewise; there are things that I am that he will never be. But he has stories. He has a Muse. And he has Joanie's. I told you that I told him I wanted my own stories...his response? “You'll have them. I didn't start until I was about 23. You'll have them.” That's when I began processing the events of the day.

Had I not met KB, I wouldn't have ever entered Joanie's. I wouldn't have made the trip to Soulard until later next year. I wouldn't be writing this right now. I wouldn't be getting ready for my own stories. I realized that because of this trip, my life has started that change that I have been so scared of. I realized that my own stories are beginning.”

Every one has a story whether they realize it or not. People become intertwined like lost loves after a long absence in those stories.

“So, my stories are about to begin. It's crazy how one man's Universe is the beginning of my journey. So thank you KB. Thank you Stephanie. And thank you Joanie's...and everyone that name ties to it.”

A friend of mine met a friend of her own for the first time in their two year long relationship at Joanie’s Pizzeria, The Center of the Universe, my universe at least.

If you get the chance; don’t wait on chance, travel to Soulard, St. Louis, the corner of Russell and Menard. Joanie’s Pizzeria. Get out of the car fast and then walk slowly up to that little corner bar. Stand there for a minute and soak it in before you open the door. Try to prepare yourself as you walk into the Center of My Universe. Open that door and try to keep your balance as you realize that those stories are more than just stories. Look around and see if you can catch a glimpse of July contained in blue eyes.

Walk up and sit down at the bar; I never sat upstairs, tell them some fool from Tennessee sent you. Ask if Mona is around and if she is ask her if Muse is around. Take a long look at her and then you can say that you have seen the kindest and gentlest soul to have ever walked. A beautiful disaster. No hate in her heart at all. She might even inspire you to write a story or two of your own. She is real, never doubt it. The place is real. It is The Center of the Universe.

“I miss you.” "I miss you too.”



KB

Pictures:

http://www.forumgarden.com/forums/showt ... hp?t=33204

[JacksDad]

Indeed. A road trip is in order.

Skip the potluck though. You've more important things to do tomorrow night.