Back there somewhere, in the family tree (though on my wife’s side) was a man named Reed Sample (1812-1879). As a saxophone player, I like to sample reeds, looking for the perfect sound that emanates from the choicest of materials and the best cut of the shaping blades. In case you’re wondering what that has to do with Forest Park (I’m beginning to wonder myself), I wandered into the Forest Perk Café today (Thursday) to sample what they had for breakfast (I could stretch this whole thing by suggesting the menu is actually a sample read… but I won’t).
The concept of a whole wheat, maybe even multi-grain croissant is, I think, anathema to the French, those haughty overlords of former colonies and food snobs par excellence, but the darn thing was actually très bon, in fact it was downright délicieux, if not absolutely incroyable and fantastique. Of course, considering the tender pile of thin-sliced ham, thick slices of Swiss Cheese and creamy mayonnaise with which this croissant was laden, it would have hard for it to be otherwise.
I sat in the main hall of the Visitor Center, originally the Lindell Railway Pavillion in the dark ages before the popularization of the automobile, and watched the nothing that was happening there. It was quiet, alright, but every five minutes or so an employee of Forest Park Forever would wander into the building, slide their card passes through the reader, and zip down the hallway to the offices at the east side of the building.
As I wandered out toward my little blue truck, I spied the other part of the sign I had earlier observed lying ignominiously on the verge by the street. I knelt to photograph it just as two workers arrived to install a new sign post for it to hold on to.
“Did you move that?” asked the driver after he had gotten out and walked around to where I was.
“No.” I responded, taking pains to look as innocent as I possibly could (a skill I used successfully to get my brother into some trouble when I was 55 years younger).
This answer of mine seemed to resonate well with the man as he grunted and turned toward his truck to select the tools he would use for this job.