Urban parklands

We were once a nation tied together by rail. Those rails -- now abandoned -- often remain in place, reminders of that earlier era. In some places, such as Seattle's Burke-Gilman Trail, the rails themselves have been torn up, but the right of way deeded over to the public for use as bike and hiking trails.

I've just returned from several days in New York, a visit prompted initially by articles I read in June celebrating the opening of that city's High Line Park. The High Line, built in the 1930's, was an elevated freight train track that ran up the west side of Manhattan from the Meatpacking District north to about 34th, beyond which it went underground. The line was abandoned in about 1980, but the elevated tracks remained in place. The new elevated park is now complete as far north as 20th, in Chelsea, with plans to extend it farther north in the future.

The High Line runs parallel to and just west of Tenth Avenue, through the middle of the block. In places, it actually passes through buildings that have been built around it. The park emphasizes extensive plantings of wild grasses and shrubs, through which the pavement snakes its way. In places, the tracks have been left in place, rather hauntingly overgrown with tall grass, as reminders of the park's origins. The High Line is clearly an urban park, with assorted art work and places for pedestrians to sit and relax, allowing them to look out over the cityscape and the nearby Hudson River.

I walked the full length of the elevated park, which did not take that long, and then followed the remaining stretch of the High Line by walking along Tenth Avenue below, north to the point where the elevated disappears amongst the rail yards west of Penn Station. It's a nice park, and an interesting urban use of abandoned railway -- walking some 30 feet above street level gives the stroller a nice perspective on the city -- but I was less impressed than I'd anticipated. Maybe (I say condescendingly to our New York friends) because of the high quality of urban recreational land use with which I'm already familiar here in Seattle.

I was more impressed, actually, by New York's excellent development, still on-going, of the formerly industrial Hudson River shoreline from Battery Park north. Beautifully designed, and exciting to explore -- even in the rain, as I did yesterday!

All in all, a short but enjoyable visit to the Big Apple, which included watching the Yanks lose to Texas in the brand new Yankee Stadium, and viewing the excellent Broadway production of Tony-winning Billy Elliot. I return home to a house still in chaos and still undergoing recovery from its recent use as a Hollywood set. Reality, like the cold Seattle rain that was falling when I landed last night, returns and splashes me in the face!

Into exile

I find myself sitting amidst total chaos, with workmen and work tools from every trade surrounding me. They now demand that I disconnect the computer so it can be packed. They are upon me. This shall be my final message.

Let my last words be received like the final diary entry from a starved and frozen -- but stalwart -- Antarctic explorer: "Tell my family that I did my duty. I faced my fate calmly, with regret only for those dear to me whom I left behind. As eulogy, say only that I died like an Englishman."

Thus, the Northwest Corner shuts down, its presses stilled, its editor exiled, its cats in disarray. But returning to life on August 24.

Namaste, and hang in there!

Houseless in Seattle

Again, today, the huge trucks are gathering in front. Yes, the saga of "My House as a Movie Set" goes on. For the past several days, the focus of attention has been the house two doors down from mine, whose interior will provide the interior of the house that, in the movie, is adjacent to mine. I believe shooting will begin very soon at that house, maybe today.

My house, to be occupied by a neurotic, middle-aged woman (played by Laura Linney), is already being transformed on its exterior. The wood surfaces have been painted a faded and chipped pink -- truly ghastly (see above photo of rear) -- and there are tomato plants piled up in my backyard that will be planted once my own lawn has been ripped up and transplanted two doors down. The Linney character apparently is a fanatical gardener. (My house hasn't seen a gardener, fanatical or otherwise, for many a moon.) The foliage will be cut back extensively, which needed to be done in any case.

All my furniture and possessions will be removed and put into storage. The interior will be scrubbed to remove all cat dander (to which Laura Linney is highly allergic), and will be repainted and refurnished in late 20th century, neurotic middle-aged woman mode.

I'm still waiting to hear the date that I move out and turn my house over to the film company. The contract was for August 10, but they may need a couple of extra days to prepare the interiors, and I'm being docile and cooperative. They are putting me (and my feline companions) up in a Marriott suite on Lake Union, which is about as good an alternative living arrangement as I could have hoped for.

I will be cut off from many of my usual toys and amusements -- computer, U.S. Mail, piano, CD player, back deck) -- but I'll be welcome on the set (i.e., my house) whenever it doesn't disturb the filming. I've never been the sort that goes about with Hollywood stars in his eyes, but I have to admit that I'm excited to see a film being shot, and especially being shot in and around my own home.

I'll keep my vast readership informed. But be warned that there will be a news blackout for a couple of weeks, beginning soon, while my lack of a computer keeps me exiled me from cyberspace.