Eighteen years ago, Windsor officially incorporated into a town. What’s in store as it heads into its next decade? At this point, who knows what’s in store for any small American town? What a strange time to be entering your 20s, Windsor—you have my sympathies. And yet, you seem to be doing just fine; perhaps even better than ever.
My month began in Windsor with a guest appearance on your locally produced, nationally syndicated TV show, Creature Features (Crowhaven Productions is your best-kept secret—pssst … vimeo.com/crowhaven) and will likely end with a flurry of letters to the editor about how I know nothing about the place. But I do, just ask your local Rotarians about my Zoom chat with them. They asked me to speak about media at an hour that was both early and ungodly. In my delirium, I claimed to have been conceived in the ’70s during a cocaine-fueled night in a Marin County hot tub (for the record, it was more likely jug wine at Bodega Bay). Their polite reception of my rant was followed by what we in the biz call “crickets.”
To fill my Windsor knowledge gap, I visited it—last night, in fact. At first blush, the suburban idyll might appear as a rogue Disneyland colony, perhaps Stepford, Conn. or a simulacrum of a natural human habitat. Works for me—clean and quiet—a perfectly lovely place, particularly for a jaded Gen Xer who just wants to chill the F out. The electric cars made nary a purr, the wind whispered, even the preponderance of children around the Town Green played in near silence. Kids—so many kids. I had to ask myself, “What did they do to all the adults?” My companion and I finally spied some grownups at nearby Kin Windsor—which looked too adult for my state of mind—so we ventured up the block to Lupe’s Diner.
Germaphobes like me will be happy to know that Lupe’s seating is properly socially-distanced, the waitstaff wore masks and gloves, and the outdoor seating undergoes thorough spraying and wiping-down between diners. My grilled-chicken burrito was dependable and perfect. My companion’s tilapia tacos, ditto. The guacamole will make you rethink the green substances being eaten elsewhere—good to the last chip.
Lupe’s Diner, 710 McClelland Drive, Windsor. 707.836.0150. lupesdiner.com.