I went to Asheville over the holiday weekend with my boyfriend. We debated a list of possible destinations for his birthday that were driveable, fun, and a new adventure. My last visit to Asheville had to be twenty years ago and he had never been there, so it seemed a good choice. We visited the Biltmore Estate as one must, and it was gorgeous, but the highlight of our trip was a moment that we could have easily missed.
On a whim, we drove downtown on Saturday night and immediately realized that pretty much everyone else in North Carolina had the same idea. After a few laps around the bustling city center with no sign of an open parking spot, we spotted a van full of fellow tourists pulling out of a space and seized the moment. In truth, we only caught this lucky break because we'd been stopped at the same intersection for three lights, so remember that next time you are held up somewhere.
A few streets were closed for construction around the Vance Memorial, so traffic was even more congested. College-aged protesters stood around the monument waving signs calling for an end to violence and racism and whoo-whooing as cars passed and their occupants yelled support. The noise along with street musicians and visitors just added to the positive revelry. My boyfriend crossed the street to get a closer peek at the protest and I took the opportunity to chat with this guy:
His name is Phil and he writes poetry on the spot for donations. He taps them out on his charming blue typewriter. When I approached him, he had been chatting with the two police officers you see above. The officer on the right was reading a poem and the conversation seemed friendly. My impression was that they were really there to keep an eye on the demonstration across the street, but that required little more than observation. Phil told me that it was problematic to appear to "sell" his work, but that he would happily write something up and we could video record it and even take a picture of the finished product. That way, it was a performance, not a sale. He would keep the poem itself.
Phil and I chatted about writing. He's working on a novel. I told him about pitching agents a couple of weeks earlier and we commiserated about the waiting. We've both had some shorter pieces published and we both try to keep writing as a regular activity.
About this time, Dave returned. Intrigued, he asked Phil to write a poem for him. As Phil suggested, I recorded the conversation. The file is too large to share here, but Phil asks us about our visit, what we've been doing in town. He asks me what I like about Dave and then asks Dave the same about me. And then he gets to work, clacking out the lines on his blue typewriter sitting on the sidewalk, Asheville's corner poet on demand.
He reads us our poem.
Here is the finished product.
But our thoughts returned to Phil and our poem. This young man was chasing his dream. He interacted with people everyday, seeing them in a way they did not see themselves. He made art and through that effort, he made the world a little better for each of his benefactors.
I hope he finishes his novel and it finds its way to publication. I'd read it.
Our Asheville weekend continued to amaze. If you have the opportunity to visit, definitely do. My food wishes were all granted thanks to the following:
Tupelo Honey - best shrimp and grits I've ever had
Biscuit Head - biscuits (duh!) and blackberry jam
Jonny Mac's Low Country Grill and BBQ - Run, don't walk to get some pulled pork here! And the beans are not what you would expect, but oh so delicious. If we'd had room, I'd have tried the apple cranberry walnut pie, but we were stuffed. The ribs, chicken, and mac and cheese were also delicious.
And Publix for the subs you will want for your Great Smoky Mountains National Park creek side picnic.
Get out there and see the world and don't forget to stop and chat with the poets and artists out there. It will be a gift for you both.
