Photograph by Frank Di Piazza
There are a few incontrovertible facts about this city: The mercury will rise to face-melting temperatures for at least one week every summer; the Cardinals, no matter how far they may be out of the pennant race at the All-Star break, will make things interesting come September; and the Loop will always be the base of operations for Joe Edwards, that hirsute hero of good times and pop-culture tchotchkes. These things give us comfort; their predictability makes it easier to endure the unpredictability of, oh, everything else.
So that’s why we got a little nervous when word circulated a couple of years ago that Edwards had plans to open a bowling alley downtown on Washington Avenue. Did he not realize his actions’ potential for upsetting the very balance of life in St. Louis? What’s next? Anheuser-Busch decides to ditch the Clydesdales in favor of llamas?
For a while, it looked as if the universe shared our apprehension. Delays beyond Edwards’ control kept the project in the first floor of the Lucas Lofts from getting off the ground for more than a year and a half— and kept the whole thing from throwing the world as we know it into chaos. But then came word in June that the project was moving forward. (By the by, the City Museum’s 8-year-old two-headed snake died the same week, not that we would dream of blaming Joe.) And then rumors started swirling that it could be done as early as late 2007 or early 2008—and we heard the distinct sound of a tiny hole being torn in the space-time continuum.
As it turns out, there’s a very good chance Edwards’ Flamingo Bowl will be open by the first week of December. If that name brings to mind excessive amounts of pink furniture, gold necklaces and Tommy Bahama shirts unbuttoned to the navel, you’re not alone. But a look at the plans for the 16,000-square-foot space in the Loft District suggests this will hardly be a Daytona Beach–style setup: 12 lanes (eight in the main space and four reserved for private parties); two full bars and a kitchen; seating for a couple dozen; video screens above the pins; and in true Edwards fashion, a few display cases for flamingo-related memorabilia. “I’ve been collecting for the last couple years, hoping to build this place,” he says. “But I had a few pieces already—doesn’t everyone?”
Little plastic flamingo lights and decorative plates are great, but it all started with the sign out front: The design for the 25-foot-tall neon and painted monument to retro kitsch—and the name of the bowling alley, for that matter—just kind of came to Edwards. “It’s hard to say how my brain worked on it, but it all came together,” he says with a laugh.
That’s the easy explanation. The not-so-easy one would include the bits about how his original lease with the building’s owner fell through (forcing Edwards to buy the space and drive his total cost for the project north of
$5 million), how the aging building itself nearly required massive structural modifications, and how he persevered because it was more or less tailor-made for a bowling alley. (When you go—and you will—notice how the lanes fit perfectly between the support beams.)
So the question remains: Why leave the friendly confines of the Loop? The chance to invest in the downtown revitalization seems like the obvious answer for a savvy developer like Edwards, but his motives weren’t quite so calculating.
“I did it out of liking St. Louis,” he says. “I wanted to do one thing, at least, downtown.”
At least? We’re not going to see Blueberry Hill 2 downtown, are we?
“Oh no. We would never even try to duplicate Blueberry Hill downtown. It’s too much of a one-of-a-kind.”
That’s all the comforting we need.
