Maynard Park Takes a Gamble on Parking

On a warm summer night this past August, Seattle’s Maynard Park Neighborhood Community Council quietly passed an innovative fund-raising scheme. Maynard Park has been challenged with steadily declining parking meter revenues, due to the lack of compelling reasons for people to visit the neighborhood.

In a moment of inspired brilliance, council member Preston Camelot gave a compassioned soliloquy. “Why do people park?” he proffered. “People park because they want to go someplace nearby. But, what if there’s no place for them to go? Why should they park? People need a reason to park. If they don’t have a reason to park, then parking needs to be their reason.”

The rest of the Council remained perplexed, until Preston revealed a flipchart illustration of his vision for Maynard Park parking. Calling it the “Maynard Parking Slot”, Preston showed how a standard parking pay station could be easily fitted with a video slot terminal, money-changer, flashing lights and a series of buttons marked 25-cent, 45-cent, 75-cent, Max Bet and Spin. Maynard Parkers simply insert their coins or credit-card into the machine, select their requested parking duration and then optionally add a side-bet for as many reel spins as they desire. As Preston put it, “With this level of excitement and thrill, people will be lining up to park in Maynard Park…and look how much money we save by not improving the neighborhood at all.”

The “Maynard Parking Slots” are being trialed this month on several of Maynard Park’s main thoroughfares. Additional Parking Enforcement Officers have been added to deal with the occasional “hand pays” of Jackpots and larger wins. But, just as in standard Casinos, the “house” or in this case the “neighborhood” always wins, thanks to a 75% payout guaranteeing Maynard Park a steady stream of revenue.

The next time you have no place to go, why not pay a visit to Maynard Park? And may the odds be ever in your favor.

 

Make it a Maynard Park Weekend!

It seems like something’s always happening in Seattle’s Maynard Park neighborhood. This weekend, there are more events, festivals and “happenings” happening in Maynard Park than in all the combined previous Maynard Park weekends this year. 

Here’s this weekend's rundown:

· Backward-walking 7K Fun Run
· A Brief History of Thyme (7-part lecture panel over 3 days with cooking demonstration)
· Street Magic Flash Mob & Flash Dance (what a feeling of suspended disbelief)
· Making Termites Your Friends (drift-wood art created by domesticated wood eaters)
· Celebrity Miniature Golf Tournament (benefit to buy dry-erasers for the community center)
· Maynard Park hand-decorated shrimp festival (self-explanatory and delicious)
· Collectibles on Parade (treasured uncommon items marched by locals in procession)
· The 5th Annual Maynard Park Vintage Chrysler LeBaron Car Show
· Maynard Park’s Got Talent? (let’s all find out…followed by a no-host Pancake Dinner)

With all this going on, who says Maynard Park isn’t a real neighborhood?

It's Maynard Bay Music Festival Time!

Beat the heat this weekend at the Maynard Bay Music Festival.  Established by musician and Maynard Park music promoter, Clive Madison, this little-known Seattle festival celebrates its 3rd non-consecutive year in existence.

Setup in the large back parking lot of the Maynard Park Hardware Emporium, this outdoor venue consists of a small plywood stage fronted by a deluxe child’s wading pool that serves as Maynard Bay. Says Clive, “We wait for the sun to set, then we light all these floating tea lights in the pool, and it’s magic.”

This year, as in previous years, the headline act is Clive’s own band, Flugel Riot Anthem. “We’re a Flugelhorn Power Trio of myself, my brother and our cousin Lloyd. In-between sets, we have a Fire Dancer who’s pretty good. And we have hot-dogs.” Flugel Riot Anthem performs what they have come to call “FRA music” which they describe as a fusion of several other fusions.  

If Seattle’s heat-wave is getting to you this weekend, and you could find some relief standing in a parking lot, you might want to check out the Maynard Bay Music Festival.

Review: New Seafood Restaurant is Making Waves in Maynard Park

Just in time for Seafair, a new themed restaurant has opened its “galley doors” to the more adventurous diners among us. The Maynard Park Squall Café combines the thrill and unpredictability of rough seas with a fun family-dining experience.

The adventure begins before you’re even inside the restaurant, as guests “walk the plank” that leads frighteningly (but safely) up to the main entrance. Netting on all sides prevents serious peril for anyone who might feel off-balance negotiating the narrow and suspended wooden walkway.

Once aboard the Squall Café, you’re greeted by your Captain/Host who shows you to your ship (table) and introduces you to the “First Mate” who will be taking care of you during your mock journey on the culinary high seas. When seated comfortably and perusing the abundant menu, new guests to the Café often joke and question what “thrill” could be had dining in what appears to be a miniaturized replica of an old Spanish Galleon, complete with mast and “privacy sails” that shield your view of other diners in their respective “ships.” 

 Orders are taken, just like any other restaurant, but then things start to get interesting.

“Ahoy Mates,” announces the server as he or she brings the first course of appetizers and beverages. “The Captain says we’re going to be encountering some cross-winds, and suggests we have you buckle up…for your own safety.” 

Guests find what appear to be seat-belts on either side of them, and the First Mate helps get everyone in the dining party strapped in. Beverage glasses and plates are placed in special form-fitting grooves that hold everything on the table neatly in place, and once all is secured, guests begin to feel a gentle rocking and mild swaying. Soon, the main entrees are brought and similarly secured by the First Mate, who then makes a rather ominous statement.

“The Captain says we’re heading straight ahead into a tropical storm, and suggests you take all necessary precautions.” And this is when the fun really begins. 

Built on a series of individualized motion-simulator dining platforms, guests to the Maynard Park Squall Café can enjoy everything from the standard “Gentle Breeze Dining Experience” to the “Andrea Doria Experience” that has rain slicker bedecked guests literally holding onto their food to prevent it from rolling onto the floor. For the less adventurous or those prone to mild or severe motion-sickness, stationary dining areas are also provided. 

Whether you want to recreate the romance of dining in the Hawaiian Isles, or if you just want to punk your friends with an extreme dining experience they’ll never forget, the Maynard Park Squall Café is your place for the quintessential Seattle Seafair dining experience.

Restoring Unnatural Resources in Maynard Park

Living in the Pacific Northwest, we’re surrounded by the awe-inspiring beauty of the natural world. Just as inspiring as nature itself is the dedication of those who devote countless hours to pursuits such as restoring salmon runs, preserving forest lands and sustaining urban Green initiatives.

What about our unnatural resources? 

Meet Charles (“Corny”) Cornweather. We were lucky enough to be granted an Exclusive Interview with the Maynard Park man who has dedicated his life to restoring soda streams.

MPNB: First of all, thank you for taking the time to share your story with us.
CC: I appreciate your interest, and your giving me a soap-box to stand on.

MPNB: How did you come to be involved in what you’re calling soda stream restoration?
CC: Well, first off…something you should know about me is that I love Sprite. Sprite is my drink. I don’t care for 7-Up. If there’s not a Sprite available, then I can make do with 7-Up. But, Sierra Mist? No way. I don’t even understand Sierra Mist. So, anyway…I generally, practically always drink Sprite. Over the years, I think I became a bit of a Sprite aficionado. I knew how it should taste. At least I thought I knew how it should taste, until about 4 years ago when they remodeled this particular Maynard Park fast-food establishment. They practically brought the place down to the studs. It was an extensive and extreme remodel, replacing everything, like the grills, the fry machines, all the fixtures and tiles, and even the drive-thru window…everything. It took months.

MPNB: And when they reopened?
CC: When the place opened back up for business, it was all shiny new…no grime, everything polished and clean and sparkly. Without thinking, I went up and ordered some things, and of course I ordered a Sprite. I carried it back to my table, sat down, had a couple fries, and then I took a sip of the Sprite. Oh my god, it was like drinking from pristine waters from a glacier. Pure, absolutely pure. For a moment, just a moment, I cried to myself.

MPNB: So you tasted the purest Sprite you’ve ever had?
CC: From a fountain. A can is different in its own way, but not as natural as one that comes from the free flow of water. Sprite in a plastic bottle is better…it doesn’t have that can taste. But, the best Sprite by far is from a Corny Cornweather certified fountain-drink purveyor, like that place that started it all, with their fresh soda tubes and pipes, and I suspect too that they had upgraded some of the soda fountain technology, because you weren’t getting that orange soda backwash…you know, like when the previous customer orders orange soda, and then you order a Sprite, and then it has this essence of Fanta or whatever that orange drink is.

MPNB: How did this go from a simple observation to a mission?
CC: That day made a big impact on me. It was life changing. Days later, I went to another neighborhood place that had Sprite on tap, and I ordered it and sipped it, and could barely swallow it. It wasn’t bad Sprite. It just wasn’t pure like a sugary mountain stream. So, I talked about it with the manager of that place, and at first he didn’t seem to care, but I think some others overheard me because someone else also said their Sprite tasted a little off, so the manager agreed to replace the equipment. Then I thought…hey, I’m onto something.

MPNB: And you carried your mission to the rest of Maynard Park?
CC: To Maynard Park, and all points nearby… First to the Queen Anne Hill neighborhood, because they love Sprite up there too…and they have the more sophisticated palates that can appreciate the various notes of a well-made beverage. Not everyone has been receptive though. In some other places, I get “the look” and I know I can’t change anything there, and I put those places on my Lifetime Moratorium list, but I also revisit the list every year just in case they have new management. My goal is to change the taste and essence of Sprite for the entire city of Seattle, one place at a time, but that’s still a lot of hoses.

MPNB: It sounds like this has evolved into quite an extensive program you’re running. Why has no one heard of you or acknowledged what you’re doing for the city of Seattle before now?
CC: I’m not looking for recognition. I don’t mind being unsung. All I would ask is that when people are out there, enjoying a snack or a meal, and ordering a Sprite…to just take a moment, and if the Sprite beverage is oh so pure, crystal clean, sweet and thirst-quenchingly delicious…just think to themselves, I bet Corny’s been here. 

Hanging Out with J.P. Patches at the City Dump...it really did happen!

The Maynard Park Neighborhood Blog breaks with format today (the format being made-up stories about a Seattle neighborhood that exists only in my imagination) to share some thoughts and memories at the passing of J.P. Patches (Chris Wedes.)

Anyone in the Seattle area who grew up with J.P. Patches on television or had the privilege of meeting him at any of his many appearances can speak at length to the impact he had on their life.  For those of us lucky enough to have been children during the years when he was on KIRO television twice-a-day, he was there in the morning to help us get up, face the day and head off to school, and he was there again when we came home, waiting to ask how we were, and to make us laugh.  It's almost impossible today to envision a personality who could so genuinely transcend the medium of television to become a trusted member of the family.  But, he did it, with a deep kindness that inspired so many.

As a kid who had a serious health problem requiring a lengthy stay at Seattle's Children's Hospital, many, many years ago, I still remember the excitement that anticipated a planned visit by J.P. Patches.  At that time, J.P. had only been on Seattle television for about 6 years, but he was already the most important star any of us kids could imagine meeting.  For those of us there, it was an obviously challenging time.  But, knowing that our friend J.P. would be coming to see us, it was all we could think about, and it was just what we needed.  As it turned out, I left Children's Hospital the day before J.P. arrived, but I had a second chance to meet him a little later in life.

While writing for a Seattle-area Community College newspaper, I was assigned a "human interest" story of my choosing.  I knew immediately that I'd use my community college journalist "credentials" as my ticket to interview J.P. Patches.  I arranged to interview J.P. at the KIRO studios during his morning broadcast.  I brought along my notepad and a portable cassette tape recorder.  I remember walking through the KIRO TV lobby and seeing all of the portraits of the News Team and other station personalities, and I was escorted back to a room just outside of where J.P. was on-the-air performing his live show.  I was getting a little nervous, wondering just what I had gotten myself into, and then at the first commercial break, in walked J.P.  I think I was a little afraid that my childhood vision of J.P. Patches might be shattered.  After all, I was there to interview him, not ask for his autograph or tell him how I missed seeing him years ago at Children's Hospital, or tell him how much he meant to me in my life.  I remember thinking, what if he's just some guy who does this kids show, and the character of J.P. is just this artificial invention.  When he introduced himself and shook my hand, he was just as genuine, kind and engaged as he was on television.  As he sat down to talk with me, I knew he was the real thing, and I was tremendously relieved.  I asked him questions about how he got his start in television, and he talked about his time in Minneapolis and some of the characters he did there, like "Chuckwagon Chuck", and then it was time for him to go back on the air.  He let me stay around for the whole show, and we talked more during the cartoons and commercials, and then he showed me around the rest of the studio, and I saw the set where they did the News and I got to see the cameras and talk to some of the technicians and other staff.  I felt so comfortable and was made to feel so welcomed.

Something that impressed me so much in my time wandering around behind-the-scenes of the KIRO studio with J.P., was just how much he loved his job and the people he worked with there.  In one conversation, one of the camera operators mentioned how the CBS Network had recently and significantly improved the audio quality range of their live broadcasts and how on the daytime soaps you could now hear the camera cables snap over the air when the big cameras were moved around and positioned.  J.P. was excited to hear about it, and I could tell from just that little glimpse how much he loved being in broadcasting, having seen all of the technical developments from the early days of television.  I remember the energy of it being "live television", and I could see that J.P. was completely in his element and so much enjoying the fun, creativity and challenge of putting together his show as it was beamed out to the masses throughout the Seattle region.

I last saw J.P. in person last year at the Fisherman's Festival, and he was just as I had remembered.  I know from being in that crowd that day, and from hearing so many stories over the years, and from the outpouring of his many Patches Pals over the last 24 hours, that the experience I had of J.P. Patches and the man, Mr. Chris Wedes, is multiplied by so many thousands, likely hundreds of thousands whose lives were forever enriched by a kind, funny, creative and gentle man who none of us will ever forget.

--by David La France

A Zombie Uprising in Maynard Park?

Special to the Maynard Park Neighborhood Blog [by an Anonymous Postal worker]

I’ve seen a few strange things at times walking my Postal route through Seattle’s Maynard Park, but I’ve never encountered anything like I experienced today.

As I walked North on West Maynard Park Boulevard, I saw this guy creeping along the sidewalk ahead of me. He had a grayish ashen complexion. His arms flailed out in front of him like he was trying to catch fireflies, and he dragged one of his legs behind him as he slowly ambled forward. His clothes looked like they had been unearthed from dirt, shredded in places and matted with grime. 

I didn’t want to pass by him, so I stopped and pretended to sort through my bag of mail. Just then, a very well-dressed woman in a nice blue blazer, with coiffed high-end hair and pearls (a Real Estate Agent), approached the guy, and I half expected that he might lunge at her. But, instead his gaze fixed on her as the two made eye contact, and they appeared to be having a conversation.

This seemed like the right time for me to make my move, walk past them and then continue on my route. So, I started walking again, getting closer to the lady Real Estate agent and her sketchy companion. They had both turned their backs as I approached, with a couple of feet of sidewalk for me to slide by, hopefully unnoticed. 

I was able to pass by and I went about half a block more before I turned to look back. When I turned around, they were both staring back at me, almost sizing me up in some way. I turned back around and kept moving, and then I quickly glanced back to see that the stumbling one had begun heading towards me. I turned and picked up my pace, almost running now. Then suddenly, the woman grabbed the guy’s shoulder, pulled him back and leaned in to whisper something to him. He stopped and sat down at a nearby bench.

The woman stepped away, reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope. She held it up in front of her, gesturing with it in my direction, and she said, “Sir, sir…I have a letter I need to mail”, and she was heading towards me, her heels click, click, clicking on the sidewalk.

Something didn't seem right, so I just ran, and by policy I can't accept loose mail not deposited in a proper mail-drop location. So, I ran as fast as I could until the clicking seemed to stop, and then I went into the Maynard Park Bait and Tackle Shop. I stood behind a canoe, keeping still and quiet, and listening, for anything. After a few moments, the woman and her heels clicked louder then stopped just outside the store’s front window. I stayed there for another couple of minutes, staying hidden but with a clear view of the store window. 

I looked down at my watch, and when I looked back up, the stumbling guy had joined the Real Estate lady again and the two now stood, with their backs to me, surveilling the distance. I had to get out of there and get back on my mail route, so I snuck up closer to the door, and that’s when I heard the woman say to the guy, “You’re going to need someone like me to help you get close to the people you want. And in a strange way, I think we’re good for each other.” And then the gray one leaned in and said very quietly, “Brains…”

I ran out of the shop and down the street…

No more mail was delivered today, on this Friday the 13th in Maynard Park.

Get Motivated in Maynard Park!

Thanks to the regionally-famous self-help guru, Shandy Pantin, Mondays have never been more manic in Maynard Park. 

Author of the book, "If You Can't Do It, I'll Do It For You", and co-founder of the prankster-mime dance troupe, "Up With Everything", Shandy is turning frowns upside down through a neighborhood program called "Motivational Mondays."

Instead of crowding into a lecture hall or listening to a tape or reading a book, Shandy's motivation comes to you right on the street corners of Maynard Park. A band of volunteers calling themselves the “Shandy Sparks” gathers at key intersections, welcoming morning commuters (on foot and in cars) with prolonged shouting of inspiring messages of encouragement and validation.

The initial cacophony from the often simultaneous screams of hope can be a bit daunting at times. "You can be all you can be if you'll only take the risk to stop your limiting thinking and consider the core value of your authentic self and share your gifts with the others in your life who need those gifts..." But, some of it does sink in, and if nothing else, it demands your attention. 

For Shandy, giving back to the community is a life-long mission. Says Shandy, “Many years ago, I was a highly successful ice dancer, when one day I completely forgot my routine during a performance of A Few Good Men on Ice.” Shandy never performed again, but the experience inspired the self-help book series, “Frozen on the Ice: Shandy Remembers.” 

If you find yourself feeling like someone left your cake out in the rain, consider passing through Seattle's Maynard Park Neighborhood (and Shandy’s renamed "Smile Avenue") on your way to work on Monday, and put a little sunshine back in your life.

As Shandy says, "When life gives me lemonade, I drink it!"

Maynard Park Neighborhood Blog is Back

Due to one lost email, in-fighting among the staff, and a limited-time-offer of incredible savings at Travelocity, the Maynard Park Neighborhood blog has been inexcusably and grossly neglected. We apologize for all of our failings.

Something Special This Way Flows...

By Staff Writer, Molly Joylee

Fourth (and concluding installment) in a series of Special Reports:

With a quiet solemnity usually reserved for funeral processions, a team of Maynard Park Neighborhood movers and shakers filed nearly motionless into Sam & Ella’s Fish Shack for what was to have been a celebratory coming together of the community. A month ago, this conclave of neighborhood visionaries (who called themselves W.I.M.P. or We Identify Maynard Park) set out on a mission to visit as many other Seattle neighborhoods as possible to find out what makes a neighborhood special. It was the hope of all involved to find inspiration for something to make Maynard Park just as special.

Instead of returning with a sense of renewal, what I witnessed at the Fish Shack felt like the death of a neighborhood. Since this was a formal meeting of the Maynard Park Neighborhood Municipal Urban Council, it began customarily with several gavel strikes from Council President Pamela Stockingbird. In the absence of any chatter whatsoever from attendees, the sound of the gavel only served to break the uncomfortable silence.

“Our order of business today,” Pamela announced to the crowd of downward-looking heads, “is to hear a report from the W.I.M.P. team on their findings and recommendations. Who will be speaking to that?”

“Maynard Park is a joke of a neighborhood…” someone heckled from the back of the Shack.

The comment echoed the mood of the dejected participants upon conclusion of their exhaustive tour of Seattle Neighborhoods that began last month amidst much excitement and fanfare. Instead of being filled with inspiration, the troop returned deeply disappointed, crestfallen and heart-broken in their conclusion that Seattle’s Maynard Park Neighborhood had nothing to offer anyone. Some were so dispirited that they even considered moving away to one of the neighborhoods they had visited.

“We’re not even recognized by the Seattle Department of Neighborhoods,” lamented neighborhood poet, Ed Mantra.

“We’re not special, and we never will be,” Gretchen Oublie quietly added, as tears began to visibly well up. “We can’t compete with all the other name-brand Seattle neighborhoods. We’re nothing…”

Ed Mantra continued poetically, “We live in the mossy cracks and odd plots scattered in-between the supposedly ‘real’ neighborhoods of Seattle. Maynard Park may as well not even exist!”

Just as it looked like hopelessness and resignation would ignite the Fish Shack, there was a shout from the back of the room. “Wait! You have this all wrong, people!” Into the light stepped neighborhood historian and statistician Clarese Sagesse. Approaching the podium, Clarese turned to face the dejected crowd of Maynardites.

“Maynard Park may not have a Troll, or a Statue of Lenin, or even a Taco Del Mar. We don’t even have a big rock moved here by a glacier. There’s no place in Maynard Park to safely roller blade, and there’s not enough room for a lighthouse, and we’ll never have brass dance steps embedded in the sidewalks that threaten litigation for copyright infringement. But, it’s not about what we have, what we don’t have, or what we’ll never have. It’s about who we are. Am I making sense?”

There were only blank stares from the faces in the room.

“Okay,” Clarese went on, “Where are we?”

“In the Fish Shack, obviously…” someone answered.

“No, think bigger…where are we?” Clarese challenged.

“We’re in Maynard Park, in Seattle…” someone else added.

“Bigger than that…” Clarese swept the room with her eyes, and then someone finally said it.

“We’re in Washington State.”

“That’s right! We can let all those other Seattle neighborhoods be who they are. That’s them, and they’re all special and part of what makes a community, but in Maynard Park we think big, because we represent the great State of Washington!” Clarese continued, as heads began to nod and eyes started to widen. “Did you know that the fun and popular games Pictionary, Pickle-Ball and Cranium were invented in Washington State? Did you know that Washington State is first in the nation in the production of red raspberries? Did you know that our State insect is the Green Darner Dragonfly?” The once quiet crowd began to stir with the buzz of comments and the marvel at facts. “The mean elevation of the state of Washington is 1,700 feet above sea level, with the highest point of elevation being 14,410 feet above sea level!”

“I never thought of it that way,” I heard someone observe excitedly.

“But, think of it,” Clarese expounded. “We, the State of Washington, have one of the most remarkable petrified forests in the world. We’re also the 2nd largest premium wine producer in the United States. We have over 740 wineries, and we have the lowest per capita church attendance in the contiguous states. We’re one of the top wheat producing states in the country. And did you know that it’s illegal in some parts of the state to display a hypnotized person in a store window? Don’t let anyone tell you that we’re not special!”

The excitement in the room was palpable, and more than a few smiles started to blossom. Clarese was working the room in her inimitable style.

“We ARE ALL THAT here in Maynard Park! Do you know what state people think of when they think of volcanoes? I’ll tell you…it’s Washington State. Even though Alaska has the most active volcanoes in the United States, people think of us because of Mount St. Helens and because of that movie, Dante’s Peak, with Pierce Brosnan. It’s because we know how to spell Lahar around here.”

It was at this moment, in the meeting of the Maynard Park Neighborhood Municipal Council that something magical happened. A soaring, collective, group-mind vision began to swirl above the now upraised heads and imagining eyes, transfixed with Spielbergian awe and wonder at the shared sight of…

“A Maynard Park Volcano!!!” screamed Ed Mantra. “When people think of Washington State, they think of volcanoes, and when they think of volcanoes they’ll think of us, if we have one, and IF we have one, they’ll think of Maynard Park!”

Ed had put it all together, and the room exploded with every imagined human emotion. It was the birth of a new identify. From a journey that began by looking everywhere else, Seattle’s Maynard Park Neighborhood found its identity in the very earth it stands on in Washington State. Drawing inspiration from magma—which is lighter than the solid rock around it, which rises and collects in magma chambers, until it eventually pushes through vents and fissures in the Earth’s surface—the earth-rich pride of the Maynard Park Neighborhood erupted into a community project to construct and place a giant “active volcano” on top of the roof of the Maynard Park Community Center. Everyone in Maynard Park will be getting involved, starting with the community collection of 6,000 pounds of flour, salt, chicken-wire, recycled newspapers (this will be a “green” volcano), and non-insect based red food dye.

As Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, “life is a journey, not a destination.” If that’s true, then Seattle’s Maynard Park Neighborhood has arrived.

The Maynard Park Neighborhood Blog will eagerly post photos of the Maynard Park Volcano when completed (though it should be noted that it will be a multi-phased and funded, multi-year project.)

Way Out (West) Seattle

By Staff Writer, Molly Joylee

Third in a series of Special Reports:

In our continued quest to find out what makes a neighborhood special (so we can find a way to make Maynard Park more special), we loaded up the van and headed…well, in circles. Given the Maynard Park Neighborhood’s unique physical layout—wide in places, extremely narrow in other places, and circular, as its boundaries creep in-between other defined Seattle neighborhoods—a heated discussion ensued as to the best route to West Seattle. If Maynard Park is “West of there…” how could we head to West Seattle? Employing a bit of follow-the-yellow-brick-road logic and referencing our trusty neighborhood schematic, we finally jogged slightly east to explore the West Seattle Neighborhood.

Our next big argument erupted upon our arrival, when it was realized that there isn’t a clearly defined “West Seattle Neighborhood” at all…there’s a whole bunch of neighborhoods, all over the place. The neighborhood exploration team hadn’t counted on that. Food provisions were not at all adequate for the miles that would need to be covered, and the collective patience and attention-spans of the sojourners were not robust enough to take in the full spectrum of West Seattle’s many, many neighborhoods. So, we decided to just go to Alki and call it the “West Seattle Neighborhood.”

Citizen Leader, Gretchen Oublie, decreed that the MP Team experience West Seattle “as the locals would” so we went immediately to Wheel Fun Rentals and commandeered a caravan of Single and Double Surreys. With bells ringing, we headed out into the gorgeous sun, blue skies and surf that surrounded our entourage. The gang soon worked up quite an appetite, so we parked for some much needed refueling at Duke’s, where Ed Mantra regaled us with a word-poem he wrote to sum up what we had experienced of West Seattle. Calling it simply, “Ed’s Spring Poem” it went like this…“Bladed, tanned, shirtless, volleyed, grilled, beached, waded, families, dogs, Harleys, Low Riders, fish, chips, ice cream, dreams and a Lighthouse.”

Focusing back on ourselves, on our mission to find something to make Maynard Park as special as the Seattle neighborhoods we’ve toured, the team concluded that the only thing we could borrow from West Seattle would be the Lighthouse. But, with only 14 feet of accessible waterfront square-footage in Maynard Park, it would have to be a very narrow-at-the-base, twisty and precarious-looking Dr. Seuss-style lighthouse. As we pondered the vision, dusk began to fall and the team headed back to the MP…

Look for the conclusion of the Four-Part Series, with “Something Special This Way Flows”…

A Haunting in Maynard Park

As the first day of Summer approaches, we’re counting down the days to the seasonal close of one of Maynard Park’s spookiest attractions.  The Maynard Park Neighborhood “Haunted Haunts” ghost tours wraps up at the end of this month.  So, bid farewell to the “haunted mailbox” in front of the Community Center (with its creaking mailbox hinge and the unnerving chill one gets when placing a hand inside the ghostly darkness), and shed a tear for the “haunted lunch counter” at the Maynard Park Deli.  The Deli (and the counter) isn’t going anywhere, but the ghosts are packing it up with the change-over from skull candles to daffodils.  Let the sun shine in!

Maynard Park Blog Staff Returns from Hiatus

For those of you who hang on every new story coming out of Seattle's Maynard Park Neighborhood Blog, rest assured that the free flow of assembled words will continue.  The Staff (and a few notable neighbors) desperately needed intensive team-building, so we loaded up the van and headed straight to the Sea Lion Caves in Florence, Oregon.  At times, the 7 hours and 14 minutes of continuous driving (working in shifts) became tedious, but in the end we survived the team-building and the caves, and we've now returned with a renewed sense of appreciation for the depths of human tolerance.  Seattle is a sizable city, and Maynard Park is a jaggedly constructed neighborhood, and there are stories that must be told.  In that spirit, we soldier on...

Wedgwood Rock(s)!

By Staff Writer, Molly Joylee

Second in a series of Special Reports:

What makes Seattle neighborhoods special, and how can that specialness inspire Maynard Park in a quest for its own specialness? That’s what a band of Maynard Park movers and shakers have set out to do in pursuit of creating, finding, or repurposing something to help define Seattle’s Fabulous Maynard Park Neighborhood.

Fresh on the heels of Fremont, the gang again climbed aboard the “Crepe-Mobile” and headed out to Seattle’s Wedgwood neighborhood. On this recent sunny day, everyone in Wedgwood seemed like they were in a particularly good mood. “Everyone’s so nice here,” someone said from the back of the van. “It’s a little off-putting. I don’t know if I trust people who are always kind, considerate and friendly.”

On our way to our target destination, we drove down a tree-lined street, the sun glinting through the leaves. We passed a bright red squeaky-clean Fire Engine, got waves from the crew, passed some kids playing stick-ball in the street, saw some other kids with a lemonade stand, passed an older couple walking hand in hand carrying an American flag, and I swear we saw a squirrel walking with a little pink parasol.

Then, suddenly…we were upon it! Wedgwood Rock!! It’s not technically in Wedgwood, but being from Maynard Park, we don’t get too hung up on the whole neighborhood boundary political correctness. If a neighborhood “attraction” has the neighborhood’s name in its name, then it’s in the neighborhood.

We climbed out of the van, and quickly encircled the behemoth rock.

Ed Mantra read aloud some specific factoids about the rock from Wikipedia:

· It’s 14 million years old…wait, he corrected himself… it’s 14,000 years old (still, that’s old)
· It arrived in the neighborhood when it was still a dense forest
· A glacier moved it there
· Dinosaurs played around the rock at one time (not specifically in Wikipedia, but we could read between the lines…)

“Do we have anything this old in Maynard Park?” Gretchen Oublie pondered aloud.
“Nope”, answered Andy Plateau, “Nothing artificial, natural, or glacier-driven. Only way we’re going to have something like this in Maynard Park is if we make it ourselves.”

Feeling a little dejected, but full of the warm glow of Wedgwood, the Maynard Park team retired to the Wedgwood Broiler for Prime Rib ($19.25 Wedgwood Cut), Chicken Fried Steak ($11.50), the Captain’s Plate ($17.00) and plenty of friendly Wedgwood neighbors to keep us company.

We then soldiered on in search of new inspirations for making Maynard Park special.

 Next stop… West Seattle!!!

Sky-High Fashion Returns to Maynard Park

By Fashion Editor, Dixon Clark
Don’t miss THE event in Maynard Park this weekend. All day Saturday and Sunday, it’s the 7th Annual “Maynard Park Wearable Kite Fashion Festival.”

The rules are simple. 1) Get some kites, 2) Stitch ‘em together into a cool outfit, and 3) Step it on out!

This high-flying judged event will parade contestants on the “Runway of Dreams” before one lucky winner will be awarded the grand-prize of a year’s worth of free Crepes from the Maynard Park Crepe-Ateria.

When Maynardites dress up in kites, we know that summer can’t be far away.

Journey to the Center of the Universe

By Staff Writer, Molly Joylee

First in a series of Special Reports:

Editor's Update: After posting, we learned of the passing of "Waiting for the Interurban" Artist, Richard Beyer.  Quoting Fred Bassetti, in a related Seattle Times Article, "He had a thoughtfulness about the human condition."  He also had a sense of humor and a belief that anyone can make art, and that's an inspiration for any neighborhood...

With great anticipation, we loaded ourselves into the big blue van with the fiberglass Crepe on top—our transportation being a kind gesture of support from the Maynard Park Crepe-Ateria. There were seven of us, six real people, and me (the “imbedded reporter”), crowded with expectation on a quest to find inspiration for a new signature centerpiece for Seattle’s Maynard Park neighborhood.

Rather than searching in our own back yard, this was a journey of discovery to the neighboring neighborhoods to find out what makes them special. With that enlightenment, Maynardites hope to give voice to their own grand ideas to give Maynard Park “something” to uniquely identify itself.

We headed East, then jogged North a little, and finally went a bit South until we arrived in Fremont, the Center of the Known Universe. As we rounded the curve in the road, the imposing bronze figure of Lenin suddenly appeared, and someone in the van shouted, “Let’s get something to eat at Taco Del Mar!”

As we sat, consuming the indigenous food of Fremont, we gazed up to marvel at the spectacle of the fallen communist dictator, now resurrected on a taco dining patio.

“I wouldn’t want to copy them exactly,” puzzled citizen leader, Gretchen Oublie. “But, could we get our hands on a 16-foot tall (or better) bronze statue of Stalin?” iPads were blazing to eBay and Craigslist to find an equally imposing Stalin for Maynard Park, but there just wasn’t anything big enough. Ed Mantra suggested the purchase of several tabletop-sized Stalin statues for an envisioned “Maynard Park Stalin Garden.” Ed’s unique vision was to “plant” or partially bury a dozen or more of the diminutive dictators in and around the Maynard Park P-Patch. With a spirit of all-ideas-are-good-ideas, the suggestion was noted and recorded, and the team pressed on to the next Fremont Neighborhood attraction for further inspiration.

On the road again, the visionaries slowed a bit alongside “Waiting for the Interurban”, and there was a collective, “well...maybe something like that?” We then quickly came upon the newer statues of “J.P. Patches and Gertrude”, and everyone went, “Ohhhh. Wish we had something like that.” But, alas, while Maynard Park has plenty of spirit, the neighborhood is considerably lacking when it comes to endearing local celebrities. The closest we have is retired Psychic-to-the-Stars, Carmelita Chi Chi, who holds court at one of the Maynard Park Starbucks, but she’s far less than “Legend” status.

So, we pressed on, and pulled up to the Fremont Troll. Everyone looked at each other, then at the Troll, then back at each other again. “This is what I’m talking about,” declared Andy Plateau. “It’s so spontaneous!”

So, there it was…13,000 pounds of spontaneity.

Gretchen reminded the team that this was their first sojourn, and there were several more Seattle neighborhoods to visit before settling on a signature vision for Maynard Park.

It was a good day. Minds were open. Foods and beverages flowed freely, and pleasant dreams were had by all.

Next stop…Wedgwood.

Paradise Lost in a Crowd

By Staff Writer, Molly Joylee

It’s a fact. The City of Seattle Department of Neighborhoods doesn’t recognize Maynard Park, and that has some residents feeling like they’re invisible. A conclave of concerned Maynardites met recently to explore this community identify crisis.

“It’s as if we don’t exist,” decried Gretchen Oublie, echoing the sentiments of those gathered for coffee at the Maynard Park Donut Yurt. “Every other Seattle neighborhood has something that makes them special, something real and tangible that people can rally around. Here in Maynard Park, we have nothing…”

With that spark of anguish, a grass-roots initiative was conceived and the “We Identify Maynard Park” (or W.I.M.P.) citizen activist plan was born. While still in its infancy, a contagion of actualization has begun to crawl, from neighbor-to-neighbor, in a search for a sense of shared self. Their goal is a simple one: Give Maynard Park a “centerpiece” to distinguish it from all other Seattle neighborhoods.

To embark on this mission, the W.I.M.P. citizen council has announced a series of sojourns to selected Seattle Neighborhoods to study and analyze what makes these other neighborhood places unique.

The Maynard Park Neighborhood Blog will be traveling along, as imbedded reporters, with the “We Identify Maynard Park” entourage, and we’ll be reporting on their findings in the weeks ahead.

The citizen council was unanimous that their vision quest would start at the feet of a bronze Bolshevik Russian communist revolutionary…so, you know, we’re heading to Fremont.

Crepes, Glorious Crepes!

Restaurant Review by Food Critic, Marnie Basket
Every neighborhood has its own unique signature restaurant that can almost define a place. The Sky City Restaurant at the top of the Space Needle is one example, for whatever actual neighborhood that is. Canlis is another example, for the off-Aurora neighborhood where it resides.

In Seattle’s Maynard Park neighborhood, the quintessential character restaurant has to be the Crepe-Ateria, brimming with every crepe the mind can comprehend.

The Crepe-Ateria doesn’t just randomly present and arrange crepes. Emulating the natural progression of a dining experience, starting with an appetizer, moving on to an entrée, side dishes and then desserts, Crepe-Ateria owners Justin and Justine have clustered their fair in a logical physical layout. Starters like Deviled-Egg Crepes, Pigs-in-a-Crepe and Swedish Meatball Stuffed Crepes are located right up front as your first grab down what locals affectionately call, “Crepe Alley.”

“We offer 45 varieties of crepes,” says Justin. “If it isn’t a beverage, it’s a crepe.”

Further down the lanes of platformed, steaming goodness, you’ll find Creamy Tomato Pasta (in a crepe), Parmesan Chicken (in a crepe), Perfect Pot Roast (in a crepe), and you’ll think you’ve seen double when you encounter the Crepe-in-a-Crepe, for the purists.

One bit of fun is the “Crepe Surprise” steam tray, with the absolutely no-peeking rule. A word of warning for anyone considering one of these crepe-wrapped animal, vegetable or mineral items…If you have ANY dietary restrictions or preferences of any kind, you should not venture into the Crepe Surprise tray.

My advice, don’t skip dessert! You’ll have to pace yourself, but hold out for the Chocolate Mousse Layer Cake with Toasted Marshmallows in a Crepe, the Decadent Gruyere Donuts and Goat Cheese in a Crepe, and the Crepe-Ateria’s piece de resistance, Flaming Apricot Brandy Crepes on a Skewer (however, parents are strongly cautioned to supervise their young ones when carrying their “Olympic Torches” back to their tables.)

Whether you’re genuinely hungry, or if you just like to see a spectacle, you should definitely make the Maynard Park Crepe-Ateria your destination the next time you’re zigging or zagging through the neighborhood. 

I almost forgot to mention, it’s all-you-can-eat ($17.95 for adults, $15.00 for seniors, and $6.95 for Kids.)

Maynard Park Art Show Review

By Art Critic, Sean Travelmore
If you haven’t been down to see the latest art installations at Maynard Park’s venerable art gallery, “El Galleria”, you owe it to your inner docent to pay a visit. The current show is dynamic, eclectic, surprising, inspiring and outraging, all in equal parts. I went to El Galleria for the show’s open, and I’ve chronicled the following report…

When approaching El Galleria, the first thing that you notice are the doors, through which you enter the grand foyer of the gallery. Once in the foyer, I was greeted by Jasmine, who took my coat and asked me to sign the register. I was then guided to descend the gently sloped, dimly-lit narrow ramp down to the main exhibit hall. On my way, I was enticed with the sweet aroma of an array of delectable fair prepared to sate the nosh needs of the patrons of the arts who had gathered away from the cold and chill of these waning days of winter.

First up was a tray of Spicy Wonton Triangles with Garlic Hummus to dip. I pondered its contrast long enough to detect a note of sage that spoke to a sense of emotional realism. Before I could look up, a sudden movement crossing from my left field of vision revealed a succulent platter of Tuna Nicoise Canapés. Oh, these were so good. I had two.

My sojourn down the ramp and into the hub and splash of the gallery fair tired my feet and I needed to momentarily sit to fully take in my surroundings, climbing the figurative banks of the river to bask in the swirl without being a part of it. From my perch, I was able to balance a glass of freshly poured Sauvignon Blanc in one hand, and juggle both a Mini Beef Wellington and a Sweet Potato Cake with Fresh Cranberry Relish in the other.

My friend, and local artist Stephanie Marklark, stopped by to chat with her own small-plate of Coconut Shrimp with Curried Hummus, and Pepper-Crusted Beef Crostini with Arugula. We did some snack trades, plate-to-plate, and then got lost in conversation about reupholstering projects over several more rounds of wine.

Before we knew it, the lights were being blinked to encourage our ushering back up the narrow ramp, to our coats, and back out into the sense refreshment of outdoor air, filled with images and tastes that would inspire us as we rejoined our lives.

Erin Go Brouhaha

By Editor-in-Chief, Tom Doppler
“Can’t we have a St. Patrick’s Day Celebration where something doesn’t upset the Council?” With those familiar words, another emergency meeting of the Maynard Park Neighborhood Municipal Urban Council convened early this morning to discuss the unauthorized “dumping” yesterday of gallons upon gallons of green food dye into the Maynard Park water tower.

Council President, Pamela Stockingbird, reprimanded the three Council members responsible for the St. Patrick’s Day action by quoting article 7, section 3.2.1, sub-section 4, which states clearly, “no civic-pride activities that impact neighborhood air quality, water quality, air-space, rock formations, or designated historic trees, shall be engaged without the full review and approval of the Maynard Park Neighborhood Municipal Urban Council, and proposed said actions may not violate any City, State or Federal Laws unless said activities are deemed as sanctioned civil disobedience.” 

No defense was offered for the unauthorized actions, and a general apology was accepted by the Council. As there were no citizen complaints, the matter was marked “closed” and was recorded as MP Council Infraction 03.17.12.23-6.

Neighborhood resident, Mike Sanders, was in attendance as a citizen witness and provided the following comment that was recorded in the formal meeting minutes. “When I saw the green water coming out of the tap, I was scared. I thought it might have been due to fracking, and then I remembered it was St. Patrick’s Day, and it made sense. I don’t think it was a good idea, but no harm done.”

And so it goes… Everyone at the Maynard Park Neighborhood Blog hopes you had a safe and happy St. Paddy’s Day. Enjoy your Sunday and the work week ahead!

Give Hot Yoga the Cold Shoulder

By Staff Writer, Lynda Zen
Who wants to sit, dripping and stretching in a literal sweatbox of humanity? No one. At least, no one who knows better. Clinical studies are showing that the ever-popular Hot Yoga trend isn’t all that hot when it comes to your health and well-being. It’s unnatural to intentionally exert yourself into contortions while sitting in the equivalent of a California Pizza Kitchen brick oven.

There’s a better way.

A new Yoga Studio is about to open in the Maynard Park neighborhood, and they are blazing new trails of fitness, but without the heat. The Early Frost Yoga Studio will take an approach to Yoga that is literally the polar opposite of hot yoga. They will be introducing Cold Yoga, and the crowds are shivering with anticipation. In a business move that’s as much practical as it is synergistic and mythical, the Early Frost Yoga Studio will be opening in the space formerly occupied by a Cold Stone Creamery. The Ultimate Ice Cream experience gives way to the ultimate “Ice Scream” experience, with the ingenious incorporation and repurposing of the refrigerated cold stone slab. As Bevan McClure describes it, “the yoga room will be maintained at 30 degrees during all classes, and the cold stone slab will be used during our primal scream yoga ritual. Slightly, but tastefully denuded participants will be ceremoniously lifted and glided onto the slab during the Moon Salutation sequence and encouraged to scream if they feel so compelled.”

Bevan went on to acknowledge that novices to Cold Yoga may have some hesitation to jump in feet first into what some have described as serrated needles of pain. He assures that they will have an introductory beginner’s class that will allow participants to wear survival suits until they become more acclimated to the cold yoga environment. Says Bevan, “the health benefits outweigh the slight risk of hypothermia, and it’s really good for your pores.”

Big Show in Maynard Park

By Staff Writer, Molly Joylee
Don't Miss It! This weekend, at the Maynard Park Retirement Center, it's the rock opera, 'Tommy'. Presented by the senior "Stars in Their Eyes" players, the price of the evening's entertainment includes choice of soup, crescent rolls and custard shooters.

A New Restaurant in Maynard Park

By Food Critic, Marnie Basket
It’s my very first post! I’m so jazzed to be bringing you the best “eats” that Maynard Park has to offer. From places that have been around, to places that are new on the scene, I’ll be setting the table and setting the stage for many a vicarious meal for you to enjoy, and hopefully you’ll follow-up with a non-vicarious visit to one of Maynard Park’s finest food establishments.

The inaugural honor of first review…drumroll, please…goes to The Artisan Table (with the French pronunciation as in “Ta-blah”.) This place screams Artisan. From the aged, crafted-from-driftwood Maitre D podium that greets you, to the bungalow-style drop-lamps above cozy booths, you feel like you’ve journeyed to another place in time. The aroma from the kitchen wafts over you like a warm sweater on a cold salted-air morning beach stroll along the banks of the Seine. Owners Chris and Kelly put it best in the placard they heartfully placed above the door that simply says, “Artisan means love.”

Surprisingly, neither Chris nor Kelly knew that their new establishment was even located in Maynard Park, to which we all had a nice chuckle. Luckily, I had a copy of the Maynard Park districting map on my iPad, and when I expanded the map view to the restaurant’s location, we literally embarked on a “Murder Mystery”, without the murder, of course. Something didn’t make sense. Even though the map showed clearly that the Artisan Table was in Maynard Park, Chris and Kelly insisted that their restaurant was in another “brand-X” neighborhood that we’re all way too familiar with, and which shall remain unmentioned. 

How could it be? I sat down in one of their burlap club chairs, and Chris started telling the story of the building’s history. While remodeling and preparing their new restaurant space, Kelly had pulled up a floor-board to reveal an old architectural schematic that showed how the building (which is one big space today) had actually been two separate spaces within the same building. The light-bulb was glowing brighter, and I went back to the Maynard Park map and zoomed in at 400% and the mystery was solved. The Artisan Table is located at one of several “jagged” points that punctuate the Maynard Park neighborhood districting map. The point of the neighborhood boundary enters from the back (or front of the former other business) and extends halfway through the building to the mid-point of the current restaurant space. So, we were both right. The address and front half of the Artisan Table is in that other neighborhood, but the kitchen (located in the back, where all the food is prepared) is totally and completely in Maynard Park. My job is reviewing the food, not reviewing the front door, and that’s what counts.

I highly recommend the Artisan Table, but my advice for Maynardites is to definitely sit near the kitchen!

Welcome to the Neighborhood

By Editor-in-Chief, Tom Doppler
I’d like to introduce myself and invite you to experience Seattle’s Maynard Park neighborhood. Whether you live in Maynard Park, are just visiting, or never visit, there are things happening here that we want to share with you in the weeks and months ahead.

I’m a former Community College instructor, and now Editor-in-Chief of this community blog. I’ve assembled a team of writers and visionaries who have committed to report and chronicle the rich tapestry that makes Maynard Park one of Seattle’s most fabulous places to call home.

Many people aren’t aware that Maynard Park is an actual neighborhood. In fact, the City of Seattle doesn’t yet recognize us in the Department of Neighborhoods official roster. We believe that a neighborhood is more than a designation. A neighborhood is a state of the mind and a place in the heart. The practical origin of Maynard Park harkens back to the historic Parcel Auction of 1997. Other well-known and stalwart neighborhoods worked in concert to more clearly define their respective lines of demarcation in a neighborhood land-grab. What was left was a series of “unclaimed” remnants and odd plots here and there, faceless and without a sense of character or identify. Over the years, the leftovers, the urban dark matter, began to come to life and take shape. The faceless and the nameless began to rise up, and we called ourselves Maynard Park. While an aerial view of the Maynard Park neighborhood may resemble something akin to a political redistricting map, there’s a whole shape here, somewhat circular, wide in some places and narrow in others. 

If there’s a motto in Maynard Park, it might be, “Don’t let people tell you who you aren’t.” We’re not Belltown, we’re definitely not the West Edge, we’re not Upper or Lower Queen Anne, nor are we anything resembling the Denny Triangle, we’re not Capitol Hill or First Hill, but we have some hills, and we’re not South Lake Union to any degree, but like we say, wherever you are, we’re West of there.