I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about the Riverside and our ideas about revitalizing it.
Cassie and I both have ideas about how to go forward. I don’t usually get in this deep when it comes to cultural improvements around here, but this time, as they say, it’s personal. You know me, dear reader. Always looking ahead for issues that will make a difference for all of us. I don’t think that’s appreciated, but I digress.
The Riverside building, itself, could use a refresh. It’s always been a casual neighborhood meeting place, rarely lacking for business. Yes, there are occasions when a few tables or a few spots at the bar sit open, but no one complains about the staff, the service, or the food.
The place is such a lovely salon for local politics, discussion, and celebration – so different than the dynamic at the Golden Pillar. Father always cultivated a certain air about that place during dining hours, but we knew he’d escape to the Riverside – the old Riverside, across the street – for some light conversation and a few pints late in the evening.
An entire century, the place has served us, far longer than any living person can recall.
So how do we improve on what amounts to local perfection?
Let me count the ways.
The bar is adequate. The seating is fine. But neither is stellar or different in any way than any place in any other small town.
We need to open those up a bit, expand the dining room, add a deck with outdoor seating right on the river. A banquet room would be a fine addition. Perhaps we transition some additional space on the second floor. Of course, with all this new square footage, we’ll most certainly need to expand the kitchen. (Won’t Cecil be tickled!)
Of course, we’d need an elevator or dumbwaiter to put the upstairs into play.
Money is always the issue, of course, though I don’t have any problem giving Cassie money to do this. She’s earned it, and frankly, seems to love her work. My challenge is simply staying in the background, which, I realize, is not my strong suit. It’s like Miller always says. “Peacocks have bright feathers for a reason.”
Truth is, I have no interest in taking over the Riverside. I need to be sure Cassie knows this, so I dial her – for about the 20th time – to discuss plans.
“Riverside. It’s closing time. How can I help you?” she answers.
“Cassie, dear, how’d the night end up?”
“Not bad. Two college reunions and a group of business partners. Cecil’s on his last legs.”
“I imagine,” I tell her. “Listen. I wanted to talk to you briefly before you lock up. I took the liberty of contacting two contractors to come by tomorrow and Monday. I want to pick their brains for ideas and to get a feel for the costs. Then hopefully we can solidify what we want to do, move our plans to paper, and land on a contract with one of them.”
“Great,” Cassie replies. “I’ll make sure Jill is in early to cover for me so we are free to spend some time with you to meet with the contractors.”
“I’m glad to hear you’re with me on this,” I tell her. “I am a little concerned about costs, but not terribly. We may have to make some tradeoffs but we’ll work it out. If necessary, I can get us a construction loan from the bank. They know me well, I do a lot of business there, and I know they would take care of us.”
“Well, that’s good,” Cassie says. “I haven’t made any friends there at all, frankly, especially last year during the downturn. I’ll need that support.”
“Well, you have it. I think that’s everything for tonight,” I tell her.
“Good night, Bitsy.”
“Good night, Cassie.”
Jenny Page