Daily Archives: July 15, 2020

I’m Living In My Own Private Tanelorn

Shameless plug time: Dallas has a lot of restaurants, ranging from the corporate to the ethereal, and one of our best draws for visitors is our only Canadian restaurant. I’ve hyped the Maple Leaf Diner for years: when the old gallery was at its Valley View Center location, the Maple Leaf was right across LBJ Freeway, and it became a regular locale for grabbing breakfast before one of the old Valley View ArtWalks, meetings with old friends after gallery tours, and regular Wednesday night dinners with my in-laws. Everything on the menu is both authentic and worth trying: I can state with authority that the Maple Leaf’s Belgian waffles are the best I’ve ever had this side of Toronto, and it’s the perfect place to introduce Texans to the Euclidean idea of poutine. Short of being greeted at the door by Rick Mercer, it’s the best chunk of Canada you’ll ever find this far south.

Anyway, one of the minor draws of the Maple Leaf is the east wall, covered with all sorts of kitschy tourist souvenirs from Our Home and Native Land, including a souvenir plate of Canada’s flower emblems, the provincial equivalents of state flowers in the US. It’s a little out of date, as it only lists “Newfoundland” instead of “Newfoundland & Labrador” (not to mention nothing about Nunavut), but it still shows off the Newfie flower emblem and beloved flower of Queen Victoria, the purple pitcher plant Sarracenia purpurea. For years, the plan was to bring in a purple pitcher plant or ten on July 1, Canada Day, just so the staff and customers could see one in the pulp, and possibly go into a discussion of the carnivorous plants of Canada. (Oh, trust me. Canada has a lot of them.) Unfortunately, there was always one minor disaster or another that prevented that from happening, especially after Valley View closed and we had to move gallery locales. 2020, though, was going to be the year that we actually pulled it off. I was sure of it.

Well, in 2020, it happened, kinda. Right in the middle of a pandemic, right after the Maple Leaf reopened for takeout and curbside service, Sarracenia purpurea came to the Maple Leaf, even if only long enough for quick pictures and a staff ogling before my masked presence had to clear out for safety’s sake. (Their safety, not mine.) Next year, though, once it’s safe to do so, expect a lot more.

Flash Sale: July 12, 2020

Personal interlude: the summer of 1980 was my first summer in the Dallas area. For those either unfamiliar with the area or who weren’t around when that summer hit us all like the fist of an angry god, June 1980 was when most of the records on summer heat were broken and reset. That was the summer that confirmed that all of the plans made for local reservoirs and other water sources after the Drought of Record in 1952-1956 were, if anything, a little conservative. It was a summer of endless “you know it’s hot when…” jokes, and calls to Hell, Michigan to confirm that Dallas was indeed hotter than Hell, and plans to fry up bacon and eggs on the hood of a ’76 Pinto. For me, personally, it was a summer of experiencing that heat on a very personal level while delivering papers for the late, much-missed Dallas Times Herald: since the Herald was an afternoon paper in my area until September 1980, the day’s papers arrived right about the time we were breaking another heat record. Although Sunday’s paper was delivered in the morning, that didn’t much help, as things were just starting to cool off just before dawn, and the rise of the yellow orb meant that we could expect more of the same in the new day. This was the summer of understanding the limits of human endurance, the necessities of proper hydration, and appreciation of the habits of Gila monsters. (Spending 90 percent of my life underground, emerging only to suck eggs and eat baby bunnies, and confront enemies with a venomous bite has served me well over the intervening four decades.)

All of this, in a roundabout way, is preamble to thanking everyone who comes out each week for the Sunday Flash Sales. I know it’s hot even at sunrise, I know the glare is oppressive, and I’d love for the current Dallas County lockdown to be lifted, knowing that everyone would be safe to wander freely, and host more gallery open houses. I’d love to be able to come out to shows and events throughout the state and let everyone peruse plants in air-conditioned splendor. I also know that the overwhelming majority of attendees, both customers and interested bystanders, understand that until things are safe or at least a lot safer, the Flash Sales are about the best way to go. Thank you all, and I’ll see you and friends at the next Flash Sale on July 19.