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In the fanciful piece below, we imagine what life might be like in downtown Monmouth on the other side of our revitalization project.
It’s a crisp, late Spring day; the breeze is gentle and trees all show new growth. You park your bike on the bike rack at the corner of Broadway and First. Walking into Nero’s Books, you jog up to the mezzanine to browse the latest magazines, picking up a Relix and a Rolling Stone. You walk down to Public Square and stroll across the cobblestones, noticing that the bulbs are popping up in the planters under the new maple trees. You walk into the Bake Shop and grab a latte and a bagel and sit down with some friends talking about last night’s game.
On your way out, you check the marquee of the Rivoli - next week, an up-and-coming comedian is in town for a show - you make a mental note to grab a pair of tickets next time you are online. You walk to Central Park and sit down on a bench under a pergola - already the gourd vines are snaking their way up the netting - in less than a month, this bench will be prime shady real estate. You flip open your laptop, log into the downtown wireless network, and check the city website - just three weeks until the big art festival focusing on plow sculptures. You head to the Rivoli site and buy a pair of tickets to the next show and then settle down for some work.
Your laptop bleeps at you a low-battery warning - wow, the morning went fast. You clamshell your laptop and head over to Olivia’s for some iced tea and a light lunch, noticing that next week, Market Alley Music will be sponsoring Ghost Town Choir for the lunch band. After a great grass-fed beef burger, you head over to your friend Steve’s loft in the third floor of the Patton Block, passing a couple of college students on their way into their studios on the second floor.
Steve’s living room looks out over the square and you both watch the college cross country team run through downtown as you both half-heartedly watch the Saturday afternoon Sportscenter on TV. After shooting the breeze for an hour and playing some Madden on his PS3, you realize it’s time to get back home.
Down to the cobblestone square and across Central Park, you stop in to Market Alley Wines to pick up a bottle of Spanish Albarino and put it into your pack with your laptop. You meander back to your bike and as you unlock it, you look back to the Square - the lights are on in the fountain now, and some of the loft dwellers are coming out for an early evening stroll. You look at the trees, a mixture of new and old, the pergolas greening up and the lights from store windows on all sides of the Square and you think to yourself - what a wonderful place to call home.
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