I don’t know what we did to deserve it. This year we have had a steady stream of actual Spring days. Most years we have one or two and then morph into Maryland Summer: oppressively hot and humid. I mean, honest-to-goodness glorious Spring weather: clear, sunny, a bit of a breeze, low humidity. Those are the days that bring joy to my heart and soul. They make me believe anything is possible.
On one of those delightful Spring days my mother-in-law and I went to State Fare in Catonsville to have lunch outside. In case you haven’t been there, it is in the space where Friendly’s used to be, across from Bill’s Music. As we pulled into a parking space I noted that most cars these days seem to come in about three colors: gray or a silvery-gray, white, and black. Oh, there’s an occasional maroon one here and there. Very rarely you’ll see a bright red convertible sports car that practically screams “midlife crisis.” But mostly it’s black, white, and gray.
My mother-in-law concurred. She described the phenomenon of buying a car and then suddenly becoming aware of how many other cars there are in that color. That’s certainly true for my car, which is a sort of gunmetal gray. Once I bought it I realized I was driving in a sea of gray cars.
Help me out here. Didn’t cars used to come in a variety of colors? What happened? Have interesting colors just gone out of fashion or have the car companies stopped offering them? I miss the variety of colors from earlier years, though I don’t particularly miss the plastic flower adornments attached to one’s car aerial that used to be de rigeur back in the 60’s.
What’s the deal? Why have cars become so drab? Or perhaps this is a regional phenomenon. Maybe in California pastels are all the rage, or jewel tones. Who knows?
The other thing I noticed as we went in State Fare is their unusual entrance. If you are coming in from the street, you must open a gate, and then climb steps before reaching the restaurant. I tried to find a photo online but this one is from 2019 and shows a different set-up which blocks the street entrance all together.
Perhaps at that time all entry was accomplished at the side of the restaurant which faces the parking lot. Right now that area is taken up by tents for events and outdoor seating. Maybe there’s an entrance there? I didn’t see one.
What if you’re in a wheelchair or have other mobility issues? That entrance is the opposite of inviting to anyone with disabilities. I checked the website to see if there was any information about wheelchair accessible entry. I couldn’t find any. The experience reminded me of an infographic I came across recently:
I am beginning to become more aware of friends and family who are disabled and/or have mobility issues. Just like the awareness of car colors, I now have a helightened sense of awareness of whether the places I go have removed obstacles to accessibility.
Why do they need to be accessible? I never see any people with disabilities there.
That’s where that chart comes in handy.
We had a wonderful lunch at State Fare. The food was delicious and the service was excellent. (Not a fan of the bill paying protocol, though.) I don’t want to give the appearance of singling them out for criticism. Surely they must have an accessible entrance and you just have to ask. But if you are, say, in a wheelchair, at the bottom of the steps, on the other side of the gate, what are you supposed to do? Holler?
Would you want to go out to eat - - or anywhere, for that matter - - if normal operating conditions required you to holler (literally or metaphorically) to be accommodated?
That must get incredibly exhausting.
As a footnote, both the waitress and the backwaiter complimented me on my shirt. It was the shirt I bought at Target last Saturday in support of Pride.
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