Last summer I spent many of my nights at "The Shop", a dilapidated warehouse hidden in plain sight in the midst of the bustle of downtown. My friend Adam built guitars there, and we drank, played guitars and darts, and climbed through a converted window onto the roof of the abandoned warehouse next door. On it we'd sit with our drinks in hand and watch the world go buy, listening to the concerts at the Orange Peel as they seeped through the open windows, the cheers from a baseball game across the street, watching the fireworks that lit up the sky in celebration of our 232nd year of independence.
I knew it'd never last. It was one of those times in life that whisper their transiency between the moments of breathlessness and thrill.
Last week I once again stood on the roof next door with drinks and friends, waiting for the Beastie Boys to take the stage at the Peel. The sky was marbled and full of the relief that comes just after a thunderstorm. I looked back at the shop and the city behind it and I was full.
The downtown commission has approved the demolition of the Shop and surrounding warehouses. We lose another hidden gem.
(these two photos are courtesy of Clark Mackey, a phenomenal photographer who is very often involved with the adventures at the Shop. I do not own these; I showcase Clark. Go to his Flickr to see them on black; they are even more impressive.)
