It
was a simple mechanical failure that made me late for Digital Rochester’s
monthly meet, mingle, and monopolize event at Tonic on East Avenue. I’d gone
there to research this week’s cover story, “Twenty-somethings to the rescue”
(see page 6). Both the Rochester-Area 20-Somethings (R.A.T.S.) and Rochester
Young Professionals, a splinter group, were encouraging their members to attend
the gathering.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Michael Finney, president of the
newly formed Greater Rochester Enterprise, was this month’s featured speaker. A
source informed me he’d probably start the slide show at 5:30.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย I got there in plenty of time to
down a few drinks before the boring stuff started. Trouble was, my cable lock
broke.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย I stood outside the club, bike
leaning against the would-be locking tree, trying to get the tumblers aligned,
in vain. Soon, I was pondering my options. There were two: ride back home to
Milburn Street, nearly to Culver Road, and call a cab, or try to check the
slush-dripping mountain bike as if it were a coat. ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย By the time I cabbed over, the presentation was well
underway, and it was standing-room-only along the edge of the dance floor.
Weeks before, I’d stood in the same spot and watched a cartoon movie while
people writhed to techno in an artificial fog. Now, the relevant points of
Finney’s presentation were projected on the same screen as he repeated them to
a rapt assembly of Digital Rochesterians.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย I made a bee-line for the booze and
found a spot next to two cigar smokers. It felt like skipping class. All around
the rectangular bar, spiffy businesspeople drank and chatted. Stickers stuck to
their chests announced their name and place of employment. Mercifully, my
tardiness had allowed me to slip in anonymously, and anonymously I sat,
observing as the wheels of high-tech commerce in our city got greased.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย “It’s all orbs these days,” a man
behind me remarked to another, who agreed.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย I was out of my deep, so to speak.
Among the pool of high-tech talent assembled that night, I was stuck in the
shallow end, making whale spouts by squeezing my palms together, impressing no
one.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Still, for all the hype about high-tech
corridors, biotech booms, and business incubators, I know the whole sham will
short-circuit in short order as soon as the oil runs out. And when that time
comes, everyone there will be just like me, having biked over for nothing more
than a beer.
Walk
on the wild side
The
City Walk, which took place two days later and was also promoted by the
twenty-something groups, was more my speed. I was handed a City Walk sticker
when I showed up at the meeting place — Spot Coffee, down the street from
Tonic on East Avenue — but it wasn’t a nametag. Wearing it entitles you to
discounted drinks at the establishments along the way.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย The people organizing this monthly
bar crawl turned out to be genuine, down-to-earth folk. Whereas Digital
Rochester is high-tech and uptight, the Walk is low-key and laid back. The
subject of orbs never came up.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย The Walk’s itinerary is kept secret
until a half hour or so before it embarks, at which time a message revealing
the destinations is left on the “hotline” (234-9025) anyone not already City
Walking can access. How cool is that?
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย The night’s first stop was Havana
Moe’s, a small cigar bar with a pool table down the street from Spot. As the
group of 25 or so cold, thirsty Walkers crowded around the bartender, some guy
asked her, “What’s the most amberish beer you have?” Amazingly, a riot failed
to ensue.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย The next stop was Mex, on Alexander,
where the tequila began to flow.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Monty’s Korner was the final leg. I
don’t remember much about it (see sentence above), but I know I had a good
time. And really, what else matters?
This article appears in Jan 15-21, 2003.
