“That’s an interesting name Eric,” you may ponder, “but where does it come from? Was that the name of a relative?”
No, dear reader – Linnaea is the name of an old woman in San Luis Obispo whom I barely knew. The most important facet of her history lies in the founding of Linnaea’s Café in downtown San Luis Obispo – I place that I haunted frequently in my college years and a place my spirit haunts to this day.
I am actually visiting San Luis Obispo today, and I thought paying homage to this fine town outweighed the risk of flirting with diary. Who’s to say you agree with me? I suppose you’re continued reading is at that will tell.
A view of Linnaea's from Higuera and Garden
Back to Linnaea’s… I have a sordid history with the place. If I look back on my four years in San Luis Obispo, I can point to three of them revolving around the Café. Perhaps, Linnaea’s regular, John Feeno (pony-tail dreadlock, linguist) is right in his deduction that his table at Linnaea’s is the center of the universe? Every girl that I liked in college shared with me at the Café. You knew that you were becoming good friends with someone outside when you took them into Linnaea’s for the first time and you had to make an effort to take your Linnaea’s friendships outside of the Café because you didn’t know where else to go. For my last year and a half in San Luis, I pretty much went to Linnaea’s every weekday morning at 7:00 (when they opened) and had a cup of tea with the baristas (whom were invariably my friends). If San Luis were my world, than certainly Linnaea’s as a world within it (wheels in wheels, plays within the play).
So, as I sit here today, I raise my cup of tea to you, dear readers – I raise it to you, dear Linnaea’s – I raise it to you, dear San Luis. And as Tiny Tim observed, “God bless us, everyone.”