"For Rent!"

Clifton Jaeger is moving his painting studio out of the old Town Hall at 107 Main Street and taking his paintbrushes and pigments to the deconsecrated St. Patrick's Church around the corner, which he's been renovating for what seems like forever (and which wags have dubbed St. Clifton's). I always appreciated it when Clifton lit his windows at night and you could admire his artwork and get a sense of what Falls Village might feel like with a few thriving businesses on Main Street.

The Main Street property is a fantastic, loft-like space that's ideal for a visionary retailer or small business owner, someone entrepreneurial like Jason Young who opened Sweet William's bakery down the block in the back of 100 Main Street this winter. I once heard a rumor that Edward R. Hamilton Bookseller
might open a shop there. A Falls Village Antiques Center might lure visitors to town, and it would no doubt succeed if Bunny Williams (who owns Treillage in NYC) or Michael Trapp got involved. How about a Falls Village Community Thrift Shop that would raise money for all the non-profits in town all year long? How about a Falls Village Organic Grocery and Cooking School featuring local purveyors like Chubby Bunny, Whippoorwill Farm, Rustling Wind, and Adamah?

Check out the "For Rent" ad the town ran in the Lakeville Journal classifieds this week. But why isn't there a "For Rent" sign in the window of 107 Main? Our best hope of finding a tenant may be some out-of-towner who drives through the village, sees the sign, and has an epiphany (maybe one of the bikers who visit Toymaker's every Sunday?) and decides that running a business on Main Street is his or her destiny. Let's spread the word and get the space rented. The town needs the income and Main Street feels too sad when the windows of 107 Main are dark.

A Guilty Pleasure?

As a former New Yorker, I often get food cravings that cannot be easily satisfied in our neck of the woods (Vietnamese hot and sour soup, Shanghai-style juicy dumplings, tacos and burritos.) I also miss lox and bagels, which was the Sunday morning breakfast of my childhood. So I was pleased (but wary) when both Toymaker's and Mountainside added smoked salmon on a bagel to their menus (served with cream cheese, capers and red onion.) I am happy to report that they credibly satisfy my craving but I still miss Russ & Daughters on the Lower East Side.

Like Proust with his madeleines, I am overcome with sweet memories by this meal. But it's a guilty pleasure that is causing me tsuris. Is this breakfast a symbol of gentrification? Isn't Falls Village a sweet-potato-waffle and bacon-and-eggs kind-of town? Yes and no. Falls Village is changing and not everyone who has lived here for decades thinks that is a bad thing anymore. Are lox and bagels a symbol that the Old Guard and Young Turks can live (and dine) together in harmony? Well, as we heard sung so many times during FVCT's production of Cinderella, "Impossible things are happening every day." To wit: I had a very jolly lunch the other day at Mountainside with Faye and Pete Lawson and Mr. (Fred) Peterson. I am beginning to feel truly at home.

A Smart Cookie

I stopped in the D.M. Hunt Library the other day and for the first time in memory Cookie Kubarek wasn't laughing. Our head librarian seemed uncharacteristically riddled with angst. Could it be the Cookie was crumbling? Nope. She had just made the difficult decision to not allow students under 16 to have access to the Internet without written permission from a parent or guardian. She was grappling with her decision as if she were Sandra Day O'Connor because Cookie is a staunch defender of the First Amendment, but she also feels a responsibility to protect the children of the town.

Cookie's primary concern was not, as I assumed, pornography. It was myspace, the website where millions of teenagers make virtual bulletin boards about their lives and make friends and connections. Many adult sexual predators create myspace accounts and pretend to be teenagers to lure unsuspecting girls and boys (who often pretend to be older than they are.) Cookie was concerned that allowing free access to the computers might not be in some children's best interest. If the library were bigger and owned more computers, she could have designated children's computers with filtering software but there is no filtering software on any of the computers currently.

As she tacked the notice to the bulletin board, she told me she was prepared to be criticized. She had considered the options and decided this was the sanest course of action even though it did not make her happy. She is one tough Cookie.

What's Your Lottery Fantasy?

The other day, I had lunch with Kimberly Rock who lives in the cute little yellow house on Main Street (and whose husband, Eric, runs Pulp Products in Torrington). We were having one of those discussions that us expats often have. We were talking about how much we love Falls Village and how we would like to see all the storefronts on Main Street filled with thriving businesses (Welcome, Sweet William's Bakery!) and how we dream about the Falls Village Inn becoming a true community tavern. "Buying the Inn and making it work is my Lottery Fantasy," she said. "If I had an extra million dollars, that's what I would do."

I was nonplussed, because that is MY Lottery Fantasy (although I never buy lottery tickets so maybe I am just full of beans). I thought this was a funny coincidence, a bonding moment for me and Kimberly. I thought maybe we should drive over to the Village Deli Mart and buy Lottery tickets together.

And then while I was working backstage at FVCT's "Ciinderella," Cheryl Pecha told me that HER lottery fantasy is to buy the Inn and make it the kind of restaurant where everybody in town would feel comfortable--a real neighborhood joint. (Cheryl used to run a cafe where Toymaker's is now, so she understands what this might entail.) I was beginning to think that there may be a Falls Village Collective Consciousness and that everyone in town has the same Lottery Fantasy.

Does anyone know what is happening with the Inn? Today when I drove by the corner of Route 7 & 126, the Inn's sandwich board sign was gone. What does that portend? Does anyone know if Claudia and Stefan will ever return and reopen it? According to Elyse Harney Real Estate, the Inn can be yours (or ours) for $1.25 million.

What would YOU like to see happen to the Inn? Please post a comment. (You may need a free Google email address to do so.)