downtown
Haven’t been east of Interstate 170 in a while? (For our westernmost readers, that’s east of I-270, too.) Perhaps you frolic in U. City, enjoy a concert or restaurant here and there in the StL, go to Blues and Cardinals games—maybe even work downtown. But then you get the hell out of Dodge. That can be understood. Sort of. I mean, isn’t it almost as unfamiliar, mysterious and possibly dangerous as, say, the Metro East? If any of this applies to you, read on. If you visited the museum under the Gateway Arch sometime back in the 20th century, or anytime much earlier than July 3, you may remember it as a musty, kind of brown and beige afterthought. Today, in the completely re-imagined Gateway Arch National Park, it’s the Museum at the Gateway. From above, it looks like a spaceport, an appropriate complement to our stainless steel monument that, although completed in 1965, will remain a futuristic icon for generations to come. The museum has received an Honor Award from the American Institute of Architects (AIA) St. Louis. Well deserved. Well, then: Anyone who’s already gasped in amazement at the transformation of the riverfront has yet to see the renovated Soldiers Memorial, erected in 1938 to honor the 1,075 St. Louisans who perished in the Great War aka World War I. Much carnage was to follow, of course, and the memorial is to reflect that. It is slated to open on Veterans Day this year, Nov. 11. The AIA St. Louis also has given a nod to Soldiers Memorial for the meticulous restoration of the Art Deco post lanterns outside, among other remarkable detail work.
kirkwood
By the Class of 2022, Kirkwood High School will have eliminated the valedictorian and salutatorian from its class rankings. In those four years, KH —following the lead of Webster Groves, Ladue, Clayton and other districts in the metro and throughout the country—hopes to have eliminated much of the attendant pressure, anxiety and depression that come with trying to reach the pinnacle of one’s high school class. KHS hopes switching to the Latin cum laude system will make it more evident to students that they’re succeeding, essentially by competing against themselves. Last October, The Wall Street Journal reported that Washington-Lee High School in Arlington, Virginia, had 178 valedictorians in the Class of 2016, or one in three graduates. This really rankles the eighth-grader in me. I lived in Baltimore and was in ‘junior high’ during the decade a Kennedy was president, and my mother thought I was pretty smart. I was put in the 8-2 class, however—not 8-1, which annoyed her to no end. (It might have been 8-A, 8-B … down to, well, the classes for the kids we all knew weren’t too bright.) Honestly, I loved words, but wouldn’t have known a foot-pound from a forklift, so they put me right where I belonged. It makes sense for KHS to make this change now. Today’s freshmen need to know well ahead of time so that by 2022, they won’t feel cheated as seniors. But then, will the summa cum laude kids think they’re smarter than the magna cum laude kids, who will feel superior to the cum laude kids? Of course. Harvard grads think they’re a cut above Yale grads, or vice versa. Everyone feels like they’re better than someone else. Well, perhaps society should be more fair. Maybe they should only award Honorable Mention medals at the Olympics. But I bet the Russians would cheat anyhow.
On their way to WW, I’m sure a few people sneak by Dunkin’ first. But not too long ago, that wouldn’t have been possible. Because a while back, on their way to Weight Watchers, I’m sure a few people snuck by Dunkin’ Donuts first. You see, both companies have just gone through rebranding, a recipe that includes a dash of euphemism here, a pinch of dead seriousness there, all frosted with PR. In this case, before being covered in hype, a generous helping of political correctness also was mixed in. Dunkin’ and WW, huh? Many members of Alcoholics Anonymous refer to their recovery program simply as A.A., but that rolls off the tongue easier than WW. Faithful A.A. members abstain from alcohol. But you gotta eat. WW’s ‘Impact Manifesto’ goes on for an entire page without mentioning the word ‘weight.’ Or ‘diet.’ Seriously. So, why didn’t Dunkin’ Donuts just go all the way down to DD, since this apparently is all about wellness and positive body image? Hey, that could stand for ‘Donut Diet,’ snorts Officer Malarkey. That’s such a cliché, says his partner, Sgt. Shenanigan. These cops only go in for their coffee … and they both like Playboy for the articles. Before there was a Dunkin’ there, Malarkey and Shenanigan will tell you, they dropped by the Midwest’s greasiest, nastiest Steak ’n Shake at 9860 Manchester in Rock Hill, next door to 7-Eleven. That was also a great place for watching your weight … increase. Anyhow, people have been calling Dunkin’ Donuts simply Dunkin’ for ages, and the changes in signage aren’t slated until January. At the Rock Hill store, they won’t have to change the door handles: They’re already one big pink ‘D.’ For some, alas, all of this will leave a hole that WW can’t fill.
st. louis
“Double, double, toil and trouble …” Most kids don’t know that line is from a play written by some dude who was born more than 450 years ago. Many adults might not either. Storytime Theater at St. Louis Public Library aims to change this for youngsters, at least a little. The new program offers free performances—with actors in costume, props and a set— to connect audiences to the magic of reading. This month’s show is MacTragedy, a whimsical retelling of Shakespeare’s classic ghost story, minus the fear—all shows end before noon!—and featuring not-so-scary witches, slapstick and ridiculous jokes. Each program ends with a craft activity based on the story. Performances are at library branches throughout the city. The Oct. 26 show at Central Library, 1301 Olive St., is from 10:30 to 11:30 a.m. For more dates (as early as tomorrow), visit slpl.org/news.
Roni Chambers knows all too well what getting a pink slip looks and feels like. She was an HR executive with Anheuser-Busch through its hostile takeover by Belgian firm InBev and recalls the very first time she had to lay off someone. “We were family,” she recalls, adding with just a whiff of irony: “We never let anyone go.” December 2008, however, was when she called in an exec from Detroit, who arrived in his best suit, briefcase in hand. It was the end of the year—he might have thought he was up for a hefty bonus. Quite the contrary. “I took his phone, his computer, his car keys and put him in a cab to Lambert,” Chambers recalls. First went the most senior execs, then the support staff who no longer had anyone to support. Chambers wasn’t naïve. Her time came in 2010. Yes, she was bitter, but also very sad, and she needed to heal. “The loss of my identity rocked me to the core,” she notes. Meanwhile, the nation was in the grip of the Great Recession. She checked out GO! Network, a grassroots job skills and networking group founded in 2009 to help outplaced, white-collar professionals. It started in a donated space at St. Patrick Center as a shortterm project, maybe six to eight weeks. But it didn’t shut down until 2013. Chambers was moved by her very first visit: “I saw 200 people who looked just like me,” she says. She wound up running the operation, to the last, as a volunteer. The network helped more than 4,000 execs! Only recently has she started taking a paycheck from her own firm, located in the Cortex. Its seeds were planted and nurtured at GO! Network. This ain’t your father’s executive recruitment firm. Chambers has traded her business suits and heels for jeans and cowboy boots. So, is CEO the title on her business card? No. It’s ‘Possibilitarian.’ Her apparent vulnerability a strong suit, she’s not shy about sharing her experience, strength and hope with a client if she thinks it will help. She asks, rhetorically, “Why do we walk into a building every morning and give ourselves up?” by way of introducing this recent anecdote: The job of an ad agency exec in the creative department (if that’s not an oxymoron) was eliminated. Chambers helped him examine his abilities, his passion. What was his personal ‘brand,’ his ‘value proposition?’ He was a creative who’d been boxed in by a corporate position. But he’s an artist, after all. It clicked: Today, he’s teaching art in a private high school in the metro. Chambers smiles, pulling up a photo of a dozen-plus black books she’s filled in her years as a volunteer and professional career coach. They contain hundreds of success stories, many to appear in the book she plans to wrap up by January. Working title: The Possibilities of You. What else would you expect from a possibilitarian? Visit ronichambers.com.