the metro | When the time changes every six months or so, we change our clocks in stages. First off, with full credit to the gods also responsible for tempus fugit, the computers and cell phones automatically fall back or spring forward at the appropriate time. That’s all very nice for semi-retired folks who aren’t always entirely sure what day of the week it is. Secondly, then, it’s usually off to the kitchen because coffee. There’s plenty of waiting time to reset the digital clocks on the range and microwave. One or two pushes of a button or two and we’re all set. Those first two stages occur in the wee hours or sometime around optimal caffeination. Stages three and four happen either during the subsequent week or even later—sometimes much later. It depends on motivation. Motivation to take down the wall clock and take off the back of the nice crystal clock, which was a gift for my first wedding in 1989—the year Taylor Swift was born. Both battery-powered clocks require no more than simply twisting a little knob one way or the other, but the clocks in our vintage Hondas both require flipping all the way to page 759 or so of the beat-up owner’s manual. The 2004 Accord requires pushing and holding down two buttons on the CD player one right after another, which is something like playing two notes of a Rachmaninoff piano concerto—one must be precise and very fast. It’s easier on the 2014 Civic, as the controls are on the steering column. While not as complicated, we won’t remember how six months from now. While I still have to subtract an hour in my head every time I go anywhere, we might still wait to trade in the Accord until after its 20th birthday. It doesn’t have 100,000 miles on it yet.
Sick and tired of voices rising as relatives loudly place bets on the next presidential election, while everyone’s just supposed to be enjoying each other’s company as they feast on turkey, dressing and mashed potatoes? It doesn’t have to be this way, you know. Many establishments serve holiday-worthy meals that you don’t have to prepare or clean up after, and you surely don’t have to be a member of Missouri Athletic Club. Other fine restaurants provide scrumptious feasts to-go. Take SqWires in Lafayette Square, where Bethany Budde, proprietor and a former MAC chef herself, does the honors with her hand-picked staff. So, if your plans have yet to gel, or you’d rather just stuff yourself and chill out rather than yell and stomp out, place your to-go order by noon this Friday, Nov. 17, for pickup next Wednesday, Nov. 22. During her 30 years in dining hospitality, including stints at Webster Grill and the Junior League, Budde established SqWires 22 years ago, and to celebrate that anniversary, she donated $2.22 from each full-priced menu item, raising more than $1,000 for RUNG for Women. Why the eatery’s funky spelling? It’s a combination of places: ‘Square’ in tribute to the neighborhood, and ‘Wire’ from its location, a beautifully repurposed, historic wire factory. For two decades plus two years, Budde has invested in her neighbors, her neighborhood and the city. She’s participated in charitable dining events to benefit ongoing efforts against breast cancer, AIDS and ALS. SqWires provided initial support for developing Park Avenue Plaza, a $1 million block-long oasis with gardens, benches and a fountain, now one of the city’s premier gathering places and a picturesque spot for events. If you haven’t been to the Square in a while, the Dec. 10 parlor tour would be a great time to enjoy brunch or lunch during your outing. Visit sqwires.com/to-go.
ladue
Saturday, Dec.2, promises to be an especially good day to be a teen, and maybe even better to be an author who writes books for young adults, at Ladue Horton Watkins High School. From 1 to 5:30 p.m., the county library’s St. Louis Teen Book Festival will feature book talks, author signings and meet-and-greet opportunities with 19 authors. Neal Shusterman (pictured), bestselling author of more than 30 science fiction and fantasy novels for young readers, will discuss Gleanings, a new story collection inspired by his Arc of the Scythe series, and Courage to Dream, a graphic novel exploring the Holocaust. Shusterman keynotes a diverse group of fan-favorite, bestselling YA authors from all genres, as well as notable debut voices and local authors. Highlights include Alexandra Bracken, the critically acclaimed author of Lore; bestselling author Kendare Blake; Justin A. Reynolds, author of Opposite of Always; Rachael Lippincott, coauthor of Five Feet Apart; and Soman Chainani, who works are the basis for Netflix’s The School for Good and Evil. Teachers and librarians are invited to attend an Educator’s Happy Hour with the authors on Friday, Dec. 1, at 6 p.m. at The Novel Neighbor, 7905 Big Bend Blvd. Find the full author line-up and festival schedule at slcl.org/teen-book-festival.
forest park
In a scene from European Vacation, when the befuddled Griswold family finally arrive at the Louvre in Paris near closing time, dad Clark Griswold (Chevy Chase) admonishes everyone to hustle—since tens of thousands of artworks are inside, they’d better get a move on. That knucklehead knows nothing about art, or leading a group. Claudia Joyce, who’s volunteered 13 years as a docent at St. Louis Art Museum (SLAM), takes a different tack than the Griswolds of the world. On any given day, school tours arrive at the same location, with excited kids clamoring to get off the bus. Each is given a notebook and a pencil. Joyce encourages the young people to close their eyes and take a deep breath. “Before we go into this huge place, remember,” she’ll say, “what you see is true for you. There are no wrong answers.” Attributed to at least one ancient philosopher, this concept has been phrased and paraphrased countless times. And museum tour groups, from elementary schoolchildren to regular visitors on Member Mondays, all have questions. Joyce, chair of SLAM docents, may direct the questioner: “Share it with the group.” And they do. Sailboats by Roy Lichtenstein (1985) is installed nearby. Some viewers would be hard pressed to find the tiny boats amidst a riot of color commanding the vibrant expressionistic piece. But most have a certain feeling about the Lichtenstein, from below zero to 10 and above. Few could be ambivalent. So, at the outset, Joyce sets the pace, which is anything but hurried. Some may like the Lichtenstein more than a dark, subdued Dutch master, and vice-versa. Matisse or Picasso puzzle plenty. And a few, when confronted with Rothko, are bold enough to express out loud that they could do better. It’s all good. Joyce is a real estate investor who with her late husband bought and sold dozens of properties and still manages several. And she’s thrilled she has the time and energy to give back. “It would be very hard to give this up!” she exclaims. The docent program, now celebrating its 60th anniversary and presently seeking new volunteers, is key to the museum’s educational outreach efforts, which have been in place for a century. There are about 100 docents, including honorary members. Herself a lifelong learner, Joyce wasted little time while tours were suspended during the pandemic. “I so love to research,” she says. “We’re all grateful to be here. Many who come through the doors of this institution see things very differently. Others are like-minded, (and almost all are) willing to share ideas and concepts.” Joyce, who grew up in the Walnut Park neighborhood of north city, graduated from Normandy High School. Many of the fourth- to sixth-grade groups she leads attend city schools, which have struggled mightily since she was a student. But the kids are no less curious, mostly eager to listen and learn. As was this reporter, who walked with Joyce along a corridor to the underground garage. Ever the docent, she talked about a series of interlocking stone arches visible through windows. The title alone, Stone Sea, begs the question … but after all, that’s the best part of her gig. Interested in coming aboard with Joyce and her committed crew? Contact volunteerguides@slam.org
