11 July, 2019

A Few More Laps Around Tenney-Lapham

The first few laps

Picking up where I left off from my last post, I was ambling down East Dayton to try and find the house I lived in back in the late 1990s. I had lived in the Tenny-Lapham neighborhood for 5 years and 4 of them were in a house on Dayton Street. For reasons unknown, I've always thought of Tenney-Lapham as being more working class than Marquette, its sister neighborhood on the other side of the isthmus. I'm not actually sure if this was ever the case, however.

Both neighborhoods have plenty of wonderful old houses and several on East Johnson in T-L have setbacks that are rarely seen in Marquette. Here's a beauty at Baldwin and Dayton.

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But I have always perceived T-L as having more renters and more apartments. Like much of Madison, both neighborhoods have seen their share of multi-family dwelling erected so that observation may be outdated, if it was ever true.

Regardless of which neighborhood has more residents of lesser means, the two areas are quite similar yet also have different vibes. T-L had and has less remnants of the isthmus' industrial past. Each has been able to claim some traces on East Washington but moving towards either lake, Marquette has more warehouses, former factories, and whatnot.

Another difference between the two is that T-L has two arterial streets running through it – Gorham and Johnson – whereas Marquette only has one, Willy Street. Gorham has no shops, restaurants, etc. while Johnson has some. But Willy Street has quite a bit of commercial activity.

Anyway, there I was on Dayton trying to find the house I lived in when my new roommate (and old friend) Pete was moving in as endless news coverage of Princess Diana's death blared from the television. I have no doubt that some of the folks were wondering just what the hell that guy was doing pacing back and forth looking at houses. The problem was that I couldn't remember the address but knew a range it had to be in. Throwing me off the scent was the fact that I lived in a house that had maroon wooden shingles yet all of the ones in the address range had grey siding. I looked at the structures a bit more and scoured my memories. Finally, I found it.

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I suspect the air conditioners threw me off as well because we didn't have any. Thusly summer evenings were often spent at The Caribou, which did have A/C, drinking beer and playing cribbage until we were sufficiently inebriated to go home and pass out. Once I had determined this was it, many more memories came flooding back, some good, some bad. The bad ones were, I suppose, ultimately due to a woman, like many a tale. The last time I saw this particular ex-girlfriend was in front of the house next door so it felt odd to walk by it in the same direction as I did that day a long time ago. I even looked off towards the street as if I were expecting her red Volkswagon to be there.

With my brief trip down memory lane concluded, I continued down Dayton Street and ran into a friendly cat.

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The neighborhood looked much the same here as it did when I lived there but the area had been spruced up a little as evidenced by the old-timey lights.

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This was about the spot where I had crashed my bicycle into the front fender of a minivan back in the day. The vehicle was parked. Thankfully I was quite unsober because I flew over the hood and crashed onto the pavement real good. It was at this point in my life that I discovered the magic powers of naproxen sodium.

For the most part the houses were well-kept but some folks went beyond keeping time at bay and put their own touches on their abodes. Like this garage.

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Eventually I arrived at Reynolds Park which I adore.

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It's a wonderful open space. Marquette never had any such park when I lived in T-L although it now has McPike Park. But Reynolds feels more cozy, less like an expanse. Plus, the city well at the south end had and continues to have tennis courts where I played with my boss, usually with a beer in one hand.

Of course those giant apartment buildings are new. I've read more than one lament for these behemoths (for Madison) and I can sympathize, to a point. To be sure, there are many areas in Madison that have lost buildings of a more human scale. But these are on East Washington, a.k.a. – state highway 151, which is six lanes. These structures seem appropriate. My biggest gripe is how ugly they are. Considering our lovely Capitol and a smattering of Frank Lloyd Wright and FLW-inspired buildings, it's a real shame that most new construction seems to have taken inspiration from a Lego phone app. But young single folks with lots of cash burning a hole in their pockets have to live somewhere, I suppose.

Some newer though smaller apartments.

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While residents of both Marquette and T-L are no doubt proud of where they call home, it seems to me that the former veer into hubris territory with their willingness to declare their patch of turf "quirky". Furthermore, they love to declare Marquette to be "diverse" as if in an attempt to disguise the fact that it's mostly white faces you will see walking down the street. T-L, on the other hands seems to be unassuming, less ostentatious and content to let the neighborhood speak for itself, for better or worse.

Does this count as Spanish Revival?

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I think this mural adorns a daycare facility.

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I spent a fair amount of time going up and down Dayton and Mifflin Streets just looking at the scenery and taking in all the changes since I had lived there. Several young couples pushing strollers and clutching coffee cups from Stone Creek Coffee passed by me. Despite all of the new residents, it was rather quiet and peaceful.

It was getting close to time to head back and reclaim my car so I thought I'd stroll down East Washington.

I remember when Pasqual's was actually some of the better Mexican food you could find in Madison. Thankfully this is no longer the case.

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More apartments, though in a less imposing package at the Factory District.

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Sadly, the Jan's (Un)Friendly sign is now gone.

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The former Smart Studios where a plethora of stars of pop music recorded and mixed their tunes. Perhaps the most famous was Nirvana though I recall Son Volt being in town as a friend's friend cooked the band dinner at Little Village Café.

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I had noticed earlier in my walk that Scooter Therapy was no longer on Ingersoll Street but I found it a block away on Few. Now with more metal sculptures.

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I walked down Curtis Court and felt sad that the Avenue Bar, once a reliable source of salutary grease to treat hangovers, was now an ugly reminder of the less desirable effects of gentrification. And I mean ugly. That place has all the atmosphere of a modern office. I just don't find grey an appealing or uplifting color to dominate a room. Gone are the wood panels, shelves of rusty farm paraphernalia, and the supper club vibe. But young single folks with lots of cash burning a hole in their pockets have to eat and drink somewhere, I suppose.

In addition to having lived on Dayton Street, I also lived in T-L closer to the lake. I did not traverse Johnson or Gorham and parts west of Mifflin Strasse to explore those other old stomping grounds. I guess I have the route of another walk already laid out for me.

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