Seattlest Pix: 07Oct05

No more moons-over-my-hammy

"No more moons-over-my-hammy", documented by mary and filed in the Seattlest Flickr pool.

We don't mean to steal Mary's thunder; however, her photograph moved us to write down some of the thoughts we've been having about the Ballard Denny's closure. We knew it was coming; however, just like the presence of vampires in Sunnydale, we didn't actually want to think about it. The light, the clouds, the darkness of the trees, and the Shell sign way in the distance all punctuate the loneliness of the now-derelict sign.

We passed by the late Denny's the other day and cried a little. We ate here on numerous occasions --when we didn't want to trek down to 4th Ave S to take in the spectacle at that Denny's, that is. This was a great place both to get late night breakfast after a show at the Sunset or the Tractor or to have an early-bird dinner with the septuagenarian retirees. The service was sort of slow here, even when they weren't busy; however we never seemed to mind the slowness. It gave us time to wind down and talk to our dining companions.

Perhaps it was the great views out the windows onto this busy Ballardian corner. Somehow, looking at a pollution-enabling gas station, a chi-chi Safeway parking lot, and a soul-less Walgreens was OK while we indulged in cheap coffee, iceberg lettuce salad, and delicious grease. It could have been the sight of people walking by or the electric motor of the urine-soaked #44 Metro whining along Market Street or the sweet, forceful pounding that the tired pavement gave to heavy trucks. Afternoons gave the best views with the long, oblique rays of the setting sun casting a golden light onto the urban bustle as the city punched out and headed home for the evening. That late afternoon lull was relaxing. After the early-birds went home to catch a Matlock re-run, though, the Denny's would perk up with an evening crowd of chatty high-school kids, mutton-chopped alt.country Ballard hipsters, and second-shift machinists with grimy workshirts.

Between the fast-food chains, tire shops, hardware stores, bowling alley, and light industry, this corner --and proceeding southward along 15th onto the Ballard Bridge-- is the Aurora of Ballard. It's one of the few bits of honest, self-unaware, un-ironic, and non-pretentious centers of practical urban grit in this town, at least on the north end, that is. Don't read us incorrectly; we like our farmer's markets, cafes, and the general lack of crappy fast food but we'd hate for every square inch of Seattle to be organic, crunchy, goody-goody, and filled with "Mexican" restaurants owned and entirely staffed by hippies from Oregon. We gotta have a balance.

We haven't checked the sign but we figure we know what's coming. We'll stop before we start rambling too much about some janky quonset hut that some developer will likely vomit up here out of scrap metal, cheap frame construction, shoddy aesthetics, and sub-standard design that will sell for artificially pumped-up prices per unit to chumps who don't know better and will feature much-needed Quizno's, Fed-Ex, T-Mobile, and tanning salon on the ground level. It causes us to write run-on sentences. Instead, we'll remember fondly the Denny's with its marginal food and its odd, enclosed bar that we never went into. We'll remember the great, kitschy, American-roadside presence this Googie structure had in East Ballard's main crossroads. Now, we have no excuse to not grab a greasy bite to eat at the Sunset Bowl... before they decide to run it out of business, too.

Comments (3) [rss]

IIRC, it wasn't always a Denny's. Was originally a Manning's, part of a west coast chain of coffee shops & cafeterias. Grew up in Portland, fond memories of Sunday breakfasts at the downtown Manning's, first place I ever saw coffee "hottles" --carafes that held two cups. No Googie architecture, however.

When I was a kid my mom lived in an apartment in Ballard. Money was not plentiful, so when we went out, it was to this very Denny's. With my Dad (his DNA hard-coded by generations of Norwegian frugality) we never went out at all, so this was actually--at 12 years old--my first consistent experience of going to a restaurant, being served by a waiter, all that stuff. Which all seems incredibly strange now, since I eat out as much as I eat in.

The waiters seemed old to me, but they were probably all in their late teens and early twenties. They were unfailingly polite and, if they were slow, I didn't notice. You ordered what you wanted from a giant menu, they brought it, and they took it away when you were done. And you didn't have to do the dishes. It was an incredibly exciting experience.

Thanks, Ballard Denny's!

Thanks for writing that, Tom. I felt maybe like I was all alone in my shed tears for our departed Dennys.. I guess we should be thankful we atleast have the memories of affordable eats and 50's architecture restaurants.

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