Cafe's in the 'Tron suck
Wellington
Just got back from Wellington
I love wellington. Honest dave was born in Johnsonville for goodness sake. Wellington, though ritually abused by weather systems, even with a fountain with red and yellow and blue buckets in cuba st, it seems a city that has a soul…..
Of course, any citys temperature can only be gained by the willful insertion of a thermometer reamed into the backside cafes of the urban streets. And so I traversed my favourite haunts in Wellington in honour of the goood queens birthday ….thermometer in hand…
In Hamilton, Richard obrian, in his alter ego Riff raff might now be encased in BRONZE celebrating the heritage of the musical mastermind and his rocky achievement, but listeners why did he have to skip Hamilton to write the sucker???
Why? Well, honestly, Where could he go? And where could any latter day Richard obriens go to sketch a work in progress, to discuss whether it should be a jump to the left or how frank to make franknfurter? Indeed, Which café in Hamilton would be congenial to such a PERSOn ?
Why is there a wretched dearth of any café that boasts a charming, relaxed impoverished flat lounge feel that the capital city relishes… the tron’s café’s have a clean, antiseptic mix of new paint and plush vinyl slash leather. Coffee is the naff paint of choice which explains everything..
In all of them you could imagine one don brash, posing with a moccachino, without a hint of an incongruous background. Our cafes are forgettable. our cafes are haunted by ghosts of power point demonstrations past. I would like to see more cockroaches in hamiltons cafes….they all seem a little cold, overated with concrete, clean lined, halogen lit, and spatially defined. In fact I would go so far as to label our coffee houses sterile. I suspect Che Guevara would have shunned all watering holes and in disgust found his refuge in ‘6 feet under’ to plan his communist overthrow.
In Wellington there are cafes that feel Marxist, earthy, soft seated, warm as an open fire,, postered and sellotaped, multiple piercing friendly, mung beaned, more rastifarian than totalitarian, and cater for a vision of coffee drinking that is blatantly social rather than catering for careerism and property development. It just smells different.. it has a dynamism within its own walls… The music is loud and the place flares your nostrils..
The crux is that the people within the walls are some how allowed to shine as fine art themselves. the people are inspired to rule, and not whisper politely. a Café experience as fertile womb is yet to be conceived in south hamiltron to our city’s detriment.
I don’t want to throw my phone, or start a ‘bring back pigeons crusade’, but is it too hard to wonder if we could have a café in Hamilton that gathers artists and poets and musicians and designers and people that wear headphones and skateboards and cardigans and make a place for like minds to create and discourse and share humanity. we lack spaces that would, by the mere state of it’s shagged carpet, cracked plaster, anti-bourgeious décor and lack of well placed indoor plants inspire sentiments of revolution., or at least celebrate the weirdness of being human for which james k Baxter said there is no cure.
Viva le wellington
AND Lets, now conclude with a 10 second silence for Katie Holmes.
(SILENCE)
You’ve been listening to honest dave on the generator!
Just got back from Wellington
I love wellington. Honest dave was born in Johnsonville for goodness sake. Wellington, though ritually abused by weather systems, even with a fountain with red and yellow and blue buckets in cuba st, it seems a city that has a soul…..
Of course, any citys temperature can only be gained by the willful insertion of a thermometer reamed into the backside cafes of the urban streets. And so I traversed my favourite haunts in Wellington in honour of the goood queens birthday ….thermometer in hand…
In Hamilton, Richard obrian, in his alter ego Riff raff might now be encased in BRONZE celebrating the heritage of the musical mastermind and his rocky achievement, but listeners why did he have to skip Hamilton to write the sucker???
Why? Well, honestly, Where could he go? And where could any latter day Richard obriens go to sketch a work in progress, to discuss whether it should be a jump to the left or how frank to make franknfurter? Indeed, Which café in Hamilton would be congenial to such a PERSOn ?
Why is there a wretched dearth of any café that boasts a charming, relaxed impoverished flat lounge feel that the capital city relishes… the tron’s café’s have a clean, antiseptic mix of new paint and plush vinyl slash leather. Coffee is the naff paint of choice which explains everything..
In all of them you could imagine one don brash, posing with a moccachino, without a hint of an incongruous background. Our cafes are forgettable. our cafes are haunted by ghosts of power point demonstrations past. I would like to see more cockroaches in hamiltons cafes….they all seem a little cold, overated with concrete, clean lined, halogen lit, and spatially defined. In fact I would go so far as to label our coffee houses sterile. I suspect Che Guevara would have shunned all watering holes and in disgust found his refuge in ‘6 feet under’ to plan his communist overthrow.
In Wellington there are cafes that feel Marxist, earthy, soft seated, warm as an open fire,, postered and sellotaped, multiple piercing friendly, mung beaned, more rastifarian than totalitarian, and cater for a vision of coffee drinking that is blatantly social rather than catering for careerism and property development. It just smells different.. it has a dynamism within its own walls… The music is loud and the place flares your nostrils..
The crux is that the people within the walls are some how allowed to shine as fine art themselves. the people are inspired to rule, and not whisper politely. a Café experience as fertile womb is yet to be conceived in south hamiltron to our city’s detriment.
I don’t want to throw my phone, or start a ‘bring back pigeons crusade’, but is it too hard to wonder if we could have a café in Hamilton that gathers artists and poets and musicians and designers and people that wear headphones and skateboards and cardigans and make a place for like minds to create and discourse and share humanity. we lack spaces that would, by the mere state of it’s shagged carpet, cracked plaster, anti-bourgeious décor and lack of well placed indoor plants inspire sentiments of revolution., or at least celebrate the weirdness of being human for which james k Baxter said there is no cure.
Viva le wellington
AND Lets, now conclude with a 10 second silence for Katie Holmes.
(SILENCE)
You’ve been listening to honest dave on the generator!
posted by Honest Dave at 11:09 am
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