47.3 F
Spokane
Tuesday, April 8, 2025
spot_img
HomeCommentaryA Pool Table, Gentrification and the Ache of the Poor

A Pool Table, Gentrification and the Ache of the Poor

Date:

spot_img

Related stories

Volunteering overseas at Buddhist retreat helped conquer my fears and grow spiritually

The author takes a brave step and decides to travel overseas to volunteer at a Buddhist Centre across the sea in Derby, England. Read about her experience and what she brought home with her.

RNA inspires new voices, echoing my own beginnings

This year's RNA conference inspires the author's memory on her religion journalism beginnings, as well as her own evolving role in the field over the years.

Gaza’s tragedy is a call to action we cannot ignore

Gaza’s suffering demands urgent attention, writes the author. Read how she urges us to stand in solidarity and act immediately to end the injustice against Gazans and their land.

A frozen debit card melts my heart and teaches me kindness

A frozen debit card melts the author's heart replacing her irritation with compassion, teaching her kindness by seeing others as children of God.

‘Cremation of the Century’ celebrates Bali’s rich Hindu culture

The author recalls Bali's "cremation of the century" over 30 years ago he experienced, when Balinese honored their dead, along with a queen from an ancient Hindu kingdom.

Our Sponsors

spot_img

By Eric Blauer

The pool table had to go to make room for more stylish wood and metal seats to accommodate the bulging gentrification crowd.

The last place that had one pool table, had removed it. It was the only spot that I could take my aging friend who lives in the neighborhood to shoot some pool for 50 cents, now it’s gone. Our humble outing was a ritual that made the mostly homebound, TV watching, slowly fading man, kinda’ giddy. The prospect of beating me at a game he considered himself a hustler at, was a highlight in his week.

The look on his face when we walked into the establishment and he saw the pool table gone was heartbreaking. The disappointment in his voice when he tried to ask the guy behind the bar where it went and why, was a stab in my feels.

We left because I couldn’t afford another $40 lunch without the justification of at least the pool time together. We drove out of his neighborhood to look for someplace to eat but the one other restaurant he was wanting to go to had been turned into an antique shop like the other 25 on the street.

So finally we went back to the one place to get a burger by his house that isn’t fast food or doesn’t feel like one of ‘those places’ that the poor or blue collar can afford.
It was packed.
It was loud.
It’s hipsterish.
Everyone is pretty much up and coming or been there and ruling.
He stood out and I stood out with him.

He was discombobulated by the noise, by his recent fall that left his leg sore, his face scratched up and his brain kinda skipping on a scratch of fear, aging and his world closing in on him. Life is sucking him into his comfy chair, locked away in his old house, now even walking is hazardous to his health.

He couldn’t order, he couldn’t pick from the selection of teas, he just sat there looking at the table.

After eating, bathroom breaks, helping him put himself together we left. I had to guide him outside along the fancy sidewalk with its dangerous slopes into rock and grass beautifications. I helped lift him awkwardly into my truck as he rambled about me taking him to the hospital, a place that I think he feels safe at in his increasing state of vulnerability. I told him he didn’t need to go and that I had to take him home.

After I shut his door, I found my self gasping a “Lord have mercy” prayer of angst as I realized our times together were changing. Emotions started pressing in on me as I pulled out of the new parking metered spots.

“I hope I don’t lose you…as my friend…I hope we are friends for a long time,” is what he said underneath his breath as he exited my truck. The moment was almost slow motion and his words hung desperately in the air, like a football thrown that I didn’t know how to catch. I reassured him, but my words felt weak in the face of the reality he is living.

As I drove home to my own low income, gentrifying neighborhood, I fully succumbed to the cloud of melancholy. I am not sure what the answers are to all these complex issues, all I could think to do was write about what gentrification looks, sounds and feels like to some people who are cash poor.
Eric Blauer
Eric Blauerhttp://fcb4.tumblr.com/
I am Frederick Christian Blauer IV, but I go by Eric, it sounds less like a megalomaniac but still hints at my Scandinavian destiny of coastal conquest and ultimate rule. I have accumulated a fair number of titles: son, brother, husband, father, pastor, writer, artist and a few other more colorful titles by my fanged fans. I am a lover of story be it heard, read or watched in all beauty, gory or glory. I write and speak as an exorcist or poltergeist, splashing holy water, spilling wine and breaking bread between the apocalypse and a sleeping baby. I am possessed by too many words and they get driven out like wild pigs and into the waters of my blog at www.fcb4.tumblr.com. I work as a pastor at Jacob's Well Church (www.jacobswellspokane.com) across the tracks on 'that' side of town. I follow Christ in East Central Spokane among saints, sinners, angels, demons, crime, condoms, chaos, beauty, goodness and powerful weakness. I have more questions than answers, grey hairs than brown, fat than muscle, fire than fireplace and experience more love from my wife, family and friends than a man should be blessed with in one lifetime.

Our Sponsors

spot_img
spot_img
spot_img
spot_img

4 COMMENTS

0 0 votes
Article Rating
Subscribe
Notify of
guest


4 Comments
Oldest
Newest Most Voted
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments
Spoon
Spoon
9 years ago

Sorry to hear your experience Eric. As a fellow poor person, who was recently homeless, I’ve compiled a list of great places I have been in Spokane that are laid back and have pool tables. Very reasonably priced food and pool cost only 50 cent…

The Satellite Diner
nYne Bar and Bistro
El Que
Safari Room Fresh Grill & Bar
The Black Diamond
One of my favorites is One Bridge North, super quiet during the morning and into late afternoon. There are about 20 more places, you can check them out on Yelp.

Hang in there… all is not lost buddy!

Eric Blauer
Eric Blauer
9 years ago
Reply to  Spoon

Thanks for the list Spoon. The issue I was trying to address is the challenge of gentrification and the loss of neighborhood spots for elderly or mobility challenged community members to access by foot. There’s a growing trend to reclaim cheap rent places to build hip spaces but at the cost of displacing neighborhood faces. It’s cool to go drive to these spots and partake of the newest trendy vibes and be unaware of what or who has been eclipsed.

Thomas Schmidt
Thomas Schmidt
9 years ago
Reply to  Eric Blauer

Thanks, Eric. You are so right. We need a culture that is much more hospitable to the weaker and poor than our consumer , money and accumulation driver one.

Charlie Byers
Charlie Byers
9 years ago

Great article, Eric. As a West Central-ite, I see this happening, too, and I hope we can find ways to bring our neighborhood closer together through the transitions it’s going through now.

spot_img
4
0
Would love your thoughts, please comment.x
()
x