I hate the term real estate. It's cold and business-y, everything that tends to make me hide under the bed. What I write about is space: homes, cafes, places where you can do work, pet the cat, and Google your next-door-neighbor from 10 years ago. I write about places. And I like to do it from a personal perspective.

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

RIP: Smokey Joe's Cafe

Goodbye to a great place I didn't visit often enough.

When I drove by this morning, I saw curtains covering the door and windows, instead of the flashing neon sign I remember. "After 33 years in the biz, Smokey Joe has decided to hang up his spatula to pursue other interests," the sign in the window read.

I've been there exactly twice: once with Deborah back in the day, the second time with Adam within the last six months.

Breakfast was great both times. So was the scenery. Ned, we'll miss you.

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