My first apartment was at 1415 Taylor, the coveted south slope of Queen Anne. My rent was $1200 and my apartment had only 3 baseboard heating units so I froze all fall, winter and spring – my electric bills were almost $300 a month! That first apartment also had a kitchen so small that I had to lean left to work over the sink and I could not, I could never ever open the oven door and any cabinet, drawer or fridge at the same time. It was barely big enough to turn around in. Thank God I’m not fat. Wait! I am fat! Oh my!
The apartment also came with rats and a completely crazy next door neighbor who reported me to the police for taking my own birdbath with me when I moved. The neighborhood was not safe; my neighbor’s apartment was robbed in the middle of the day in the middle of summer.
The building sold, went condo and I left.
At this juncture, I went from the frying pan into the fire and the fire had no view.
I moved into a Bunker.
I rented a $1000 a month basement apartment in a southwest slope of Queen Anne mansion on 6th West and Lee, my apartment was originally the servant’s quarters. It was huge, it was super stylish, very very warm, it had a lovely high end big kitchen and the walk to work was beautiful right through Kerry Park - gasp! Bonus: the homeowners were lovely.
The apartment had 2 windows, both with views of concrete vaults, just like tombs only without bodies.
During my year in the Bunker, I moved the studio for the 3rd time in 6 years. We’re now in our 8th year of business and I’m the happy owner of a 6 year lease on absolutely perfect commercial space. How perfect is it? So perfect that I never intend to leave. In fact, I have plans to take over the whole floor. I digress.
Once I recovered from the studio move, I moved out of the Bunker to try and reconnect with the sky; I wanted windows and I wanted to be able to see out of them. This time I rented on Dexter Avenue down by the Femont Bridge and I’m convinced that Dexter apartment will probably be the most gorgeous space I’ll ever live in.
It was a 100 year old perfectly restored craftsman, I had the whole top floor of the 4 story house and my apartment had a jaw dropping view of Lake Union, Gas Works Park, the U-District and the north Cascade all the way up to Mt. Baker.
Dexter is technically on Queen Anne but I must say, it’s got a lot of nerve calling itself Queen Anne. It doesn’t feel like Queen Anne. It doesn’t look like Queen Anne - it looks like West Seattle - and it doesn’t live like Queen Anne. It’s not really Queen Anne at all.
But I didn’t know that when I moved to Dexter.
I was there 13 months and I left because the house was on a curve in the road, a busy road, and the drunks leaving bars in the middle of the night frequently don’t make the curve and they end up crashing into other cars, into the trees in front of my house, into my driveway.
One wreck, just 2 months after I’d moved in, was of 2 cars racing, neither made the curve, they hit ten parked cars and totaled 5 of them. Hearing THAT, dear readers, is a hell of a way to wake up.
And regardless of how conflicted I was over the frequency of these wrecks and the blood alcohol levels of the folks involved in them, regardless of how screwed up it made my precious and non-negotiable good night’s sleep, of course I rendered aid - I’ve been a first responder since I was 18.
But I also got into all sorts of trouble because the people involved in these wrecks are not only drunk, they’re injured and sometimes, they try to get away. Of course, I chase them. And I chase them even though I’m in my boxers and flip flops (summer) or my woolies and uggs (winter) and then it all just deteriorates from there.
That especially memorable night of the 10/5 crash, I ended up chasing 3 drunks – central casting, send me thugs! - who were uninjured to the point that they were able to walk away from their vehicle, leaving behind their friends in the car who were too injured to walk away and as I hit the bottom of my stairs which happened to BE the accident scene, others on the scene (which began in my driveway) pointed to the drunk thugs who were disappearing into the night and yelled at me “follow them!”
So I did.
I have a long history of chasing people who are trying to get away with things. It’s one of the most exciting things about me, actually. You just never know if I’m going to see something that I absolutely must get involved in and if I do, I’ll just take off. And I’ve been doing that all my life.
But this was just a little bit different because I’ve rarely had cause to chase people while in my jammies. My apartment on Dexter certainly gave me the opportunity to add an even weirder element to my already weird habit of chasing people. Who did something bad. Who were trying to get away.
I want to be clear, I won’t chase you if you’re not someone who did something bad and if you’re not trying to get away. I won’t. I promise. I digress.
So that night, the night of the 10/5 wreck, I took off on foot, in my boxers, flip flops and race t-shirt (sexy, I know, I know) in hot pursuit of the drunk thugs, all the while with me on an open line to 911 dispatch on my mobile and saying to the drunk thugs from all of 10 feet behind them “dude, you cannot leave your friends like this, you can’t, you can’t get away, I’m following you, I’m talking to the cops, they’re on their way, you can’t leave your friends, you can’t get away, you can’t, I’m right here” and the whole while the dispatcher is telling me not to follow them and then, then, I hear a siren, then I see the flashing lights, and I realize as the cop car speeds toward us that he’s heading to the crash site which is now a good 4 or 5 blocks from where the drunk thugs and I are and the cop car is going to go speeding by us and the cop inside is not going to bust the drunk thugs who are trying to get away.
We cannot have this.
We can't.
So I get out into the street in the rain - did I mention it’s raining? It’s raining - and I begin waving my arms and telling the dispatcher that the cop car is going to pass the drunk thugs and he needs to get the drunk thugs first before going to the accident site and then, a really neat thing happened.
I got to see a real Hollywood-style chase scene turn around, a skid-screech-turn-bounce-bounce-bounce type thing. It was thrilling. The cop was my hero, he nabbed the 3 drunk thugs, I threw him a kiss and began flip flopping back to the wreck which began at the foot of my driveway and ended half way to the Fremont Bridge. That one made the national news.
My Dexter Avenue neighborhood was so crime ridden I actually interrupted a break in and spent a few tense moments talking to the robber who was half way into the first floor window he’d just broken. That was at the rather innocent hour of 10:30 pm. And, the hookers and crackheads who work Aurora Avenue, a/k/a Highway 99, one short block west of Dexter often get confused and come to Dexter to work instead of staying up slope on Aurora.
I purposely scheduled my road work to give me a full 6 weeks in Seattle around the time my lease was up in January so I could move. Again. And hopefully for the last time.
So I found the perfect place and I moved February 1st and I’m still getting settled and yesterday as I was unpacking a bunch of stuff in the home office I ran across some notes that I made this past fall and those notes are the subject of this article.
Finally!
Did you doubt me? Never doubt me! I may begin with the words “in 3rd grade,” but rest assured I always have a point, I always remember what it is and I always eventually make it. Always!
As most of you know, my mom died last fall and I spent a bunch of time with her as she was dying and one day, mom and I watched Oprah when Oprah’s guests were Gloria Steinam, Billy Jean King and Maria Shriver. If it sounds like I’m qualifying the circumstances under which I will watch Oprah, it’s not to imply that the only time I watch her is with a dying parent. I love Oprah but I don’t have a tv and I don’t have time to watch tv and only when I’m traveling and I happen to be sick or some such set of circumstances occur that put me in front of a tv at 4 pm am I able to tune in. But I want to be clear, I do love Oprah. I love you, Op!
I jotted down some quotes from the show and here they are.
From Gloria:
Depression is when nothing matters. Sadness is when everything matters.
If you’re part of the wrong group, nothing you do is right so why not do what you want?
And from Billie Jean King:
You’re the leader you’ve been waiting for.
Gloria’s distinction between depression and sadness helped me understand that I’ve never been depressed but I have been sad. And I love the empowerment of the “wrong group” quote.
And how great it is to hear from Billie Jean, a woman who forever changed the role of women in sports, that we should all just go on and be what we’re looking for in others. I love that. It’s so true and once you realize how much you’re already accomplishing, you’ll see how very close you to going from good to great, great to fabulous, fabulous to fantastic. And from there, it’s all yours, however you want it. That’s what Billie Jean’s quote means to me. What’s it mean to you?
I will definitely be adding Gloria and Billie Jean’s quotes to Section 2 of my Pilates Excel materials titled Expert Advice. That section of my materials is a bunch of articles and excerpts from folks who are way smarter than me who say things about how to accomplish goals and structure relationships for success.
So, do what Billie Jean says and be what you’re looking for. Do what Gloria says and leave the wrong group and join the right one. And if you’re sad or depressed, hang on; it’ll clear. In Joe’s obituary in Dance Magazine, it quotes him as saying “You feel depressed? Forget it. Get to work.” God Bless Joe. God Bless you!
From Car 8, Seat 17 on the Coast Starlight, go Blazers, go Joe, go you!