The Village vs Central Park

Recently, Spotsylvania Mall has undergone a face lift. It has slowly transformed into the Spotsylvania Towne Center. Behind the new town center is an area known as The Village. A superb assortment of new eateries, upper scale shops and an entertainment complex that is very tastefully and logically done. The village allows customers to park either within or just outside of its confines and casually stroll the area. There are sidewalks. There are bricked over traffic circles. The Village is a smaller version of Reston Town Center in Northern Virginia. The key here is that customers can WALK from business to business.

Contrast this with the abomination directly across RT 3 known as Central Park. Hundreds of stores amassed on acres of concrete and asphalt that was once home to the Shannon Golf Course. Construction of this 310 acre nightmare was begun in 1995 by the Silvers Company. Initial plans presented to residents and city government indicated a similarity to Reston Town Center. Pleasant and walkable. Due to the "economy" those plans were shelved, never to be seen again.

Nowhere in Central Park is it safe for customers to simply park their vehicle, walk and shop. To do so is to, put it mildly, take ones life into their hands. Try simply crossing any road and you're fair game for every idiot with a vehicle. There is nothing pleasant, enjoyable, appealing or customer friendly about this mecca monstrosity of the retail world. One goes there to shop or eat and then gets the hell out as quickly as possible.

The developers had the grand idea of creating "Uptown" Central Park. A more exclusive section of asphalt mimicking the art deco era of the 30's with neon lighted buildings designed to draw the crowds in a hopeless attempt to "polish the turd" as we say. Two words...abject failure.

The next grand idea to spew forth was the Silvers magnanimously offering Central Park to the City as a new "venue" to celebrate the annual 4th of July fireworks show. Let's see, you take thousands of people, thousands of vehicles, disperse them across 310 acres of asphalt and concrete that have been baking in the Virginia summer sun for 12 hours and tell them to "enjoy the show." Smart!

The Village is an idea whose time has come and arrived. While for years, I avoided Spotsylvania Mall like the plague due to its crappy stores, having visited the reinvented Towne Center and The Village numerous times in the past few months, I find myself doing more shopping, dining and spending dollars there. My hope is that The Village will ultimately be a resounding success. They appear to have learned from the Central Park approach to retail, on what not to do.

The Meaning

Always on the lookout for the strange, abnormal or the just plain weird, every now and again I am rewarded with one of those moments that I am able to capture with a picture.



While walking around Fredericksburg yesterday evening, I came across this house on Lafayette Blvd. I stopped, looked and pondered the meaning of that before me.

Let's see, we have a Driving School, a Podiatrist and The Union Branch of the True Vine. What did it all mean? Ok...I wasn't driving and I don't have any outstanding tickets or warrants out for my arrest relating to motor vehicles. Scratch that off the list. I was however walking. Did I need a Podiatrist? My feet didn't think so, but one never knows. What was this UBTV? Some type of church? As a non believer, I was after all on my evening walk. Was God, in an ever so subtle manner, trying to tell me that not only did he exist, but also that my feet would soon be in need of attention? Kill two birds with one stone type thing? Have my feet looked at and find belief in God! What could be more convenient?

My mind reeled. Yet I somehow couldn't get my head around some imaginary, man contrived deity sending me, of all people, signs. I stared at the house and gave additional thought to the Union Branch of the True Vine.

Maybe the UBTV was a new vintner in town proclaiming their grapes to be some unique hybrid, divined (pun intended) from the mating of two or more different varietals which came together at a Branch. Forming the one and only "True Vine" of grapes, resulting in an extremely rare and exquisite vintage, reserved for the Gods and unattainable by mere mortals. I could almost picture some carny hawker standing there screeching to passersby "Step right up ladies and gentlemen. See and witness the True Vine of the grape! All others are blasphemous and the work of Satan! Hurry! Hurry! Accept no substitutions! Pray to no false grapes! Only one thin dime! Step right this way!"

As I stood and pondered, traffic along the street slowly slipped by, paying me no mind. I pulled out the Kodak and snapped the picture. Drawn though I was, I could not stand there all night. I was due home to cook dinner. Still, I stood, rooted. I polled the other seven voices in my head; "What did it all mean?" Strangely, they were silent. What good are you guys if you aren't around when I need you?, I asked. Continued silence. BAH!

I turned my back on this mysterious residence, crossed the street and continued on my way. One foot in front of the other (still no issues), I wandered down Sunken Road and eventually found my way home.

As I lay in bed last evening, waiting for sleep to overtake, it finally hit me! The answer I was looking for!! This residence I'd snapped a picture of, on which I pondered for many moments, was simply an old house which had become home to a Driving School, a Podiatrist and a Church. An odd combination to be sure, but then again, we live in an odd world. There was no unusual meaning to their being together in this one place, no signs from God, nothing strange. Somewhat disappointed, I fell asleep with the realization that in all likelihood, there was no hidden gem of a vintner breeding hybrid grapes in the confines of the building either.

Damn! I was so hoping to at least get a sip of a wine, fit only for the Gods.