Less-than-Great Cities Of The World
#1 in a Series: Seattle

transcribed more or less directly from my tiny note pad...

1. In a word, dismal. There is no other word to describe this sorry jetsam of aluminum siding, rotting shingles, smog-choked ever-sorta-green trees and 1972 Datsun pickup trucks. See #4 below on that topic.
2. lower-middle-class shanty town that makes Berkeley look like a vanguard of urban planning chic.
3. death of the monorail expansion plan can only be attributed to transplanted Californians’ desire to not be reminded of whence they fled, including any good ideas about efficiency, quality of life issues and building communities.
4. the sheer quantity of driving required to get around puts California to shame. There is an acknowledged obsession with keeping older, less efficient “vehicles” (any hunk of metal with wheels and the latent capacity for forward motion) on the road as a badge of honor.
5. Frankly, the only “green” culture I saw was mildew-related.
6. what music scene?? Are you counting the punk grrls stripping to Soundgarden at the Lusty Lady? The clientele I observed appeared to be exclusively restaurant kitchen staff on break. If you see or hear the phrase “A visit to the LL is a rite of passage, and no one can otherwise claim to have seen Seattle”, trust me and run away.
7. Does it not seem odd that there are exactly two decent breakfast places, owned by the same guy, one with atrocious coffee and one with great? Find them yourself.
8. There is a very cool Cuban hole-in-the-wall neighborhood café with some of the best food, and certainly the absolute best grilled chicken, I have ever eaten. Three expat co-owners in the kitchen turning out food and great drinks with godknowswhat liquors. Dinner for 3 with cocktails $77. whew. Maybe Seattle is not so dismal… again, you can find this place on your own just like I had to. Hint: it’s triangular.
9. People will smile at you, talk to you, listen to you. Women hold doors for men. This is good.
10. Downtown is hideous. Barely discernable grid, illogical one-way patterns, bums. Good, old-fashioned American bums.
11. The bums are the apparent guard anointed at the gates to the Public Market. The highly touted fish kiosks are no better than any others in town, with the added cachet of inaccessibility to the locals (now that the city is eliminating short-term parking that would make access by locals feasible) (see “monorail”). Flying fish shows for people whose knowledge of tuna begins and ends with Charley and Jessica Simpson.
12. On a more positive note, the shoe selection at Nordstrom (adorably designated “Store #1” on their website) is pretty darn sweet.
13. another mitigating factor re: item 5 above…a Sunday night session in the basement bar of a well-known club yielded some surprises. The Latin band in house supplied enthusiasm and individual talent in quantities sufficient to overcome their less than rigorous approach to arrangements or rehearsal. There were also excellent dancers on the floor. At times, watching lithe, mostly Asian and mostly expert dancers twirl and spin against a white backlit plastic wall, the effect was magnificent. Not to mention that my tab for a premium whiskey and a boutique ginger ale was six dollars. Hell of a bartender. Doubled as the sound guy.
14. We will not even discuss the tragedy known as Pioneer Square. Look it up, visit if you must, but I’m telling you it is a waste of time.
15. The rainfall estimate is not exaggerated.
16. All three of my cab drivers spoke perfect English and knew where they were going. Unusual. Pleasantly so. As a tourist, I should not have to give directions to a cab driver, yet this is more and more frequently the case everywhere I travel (from Phoenix to Paris). Maybe it was just my weekend.
17. I found a pretty interesting store specializing in “grey-market”, meaning probably smuggled from Canada, mod furniture and accessories. Their hesitancy to order an Eames knockoff for direct shipment to my home town was telling; then again, I see conspiracies and collusion everywhere.