|6/4/21 Top Pot Doughnuts, Wedgwood neighborhood|
I try to observe National Doughnut Day annually. Last year, I almost didn’t; the pandemic didn’t keep me away, but shaken and outraged by George Floyd’s murder, I wasn’t feeling festive. Still, there’s nothing like sugary, deep-fried dough to (temporarily) improve one’s mood, so I went ahead with it, and I was happy that I did.
Yesterday I was feeling much more upbeat as I set out for my neighborhood Top Pot. At 8 a.m., a decent line had formed outside the door. In the past, I have enjoyed sketching the Wedgwood store’s giant donut sculpture and twin palm trees from across the street, but this time I wanted to get close enough to sketch the queue. Though the sketch itself isn’t very exciting, it tells a larger story: masked patrons standing in line six feet apart, and my vaccinated self feeling safe enough to sketch them. (A palm tree makes a cameo appearance as a shadow on the building.)
Afterwards, I got into the line myself for a classic chocolate raised ring, which I sketched at home before scarfing it down. I noticed that the store is hiring; the donut biz must be thriving. We have many reasons to feel upbeat.
By the way, like many occasions and holidays, the origin of National Doughnut Day has gotten lost over the years. It was first observed in 1938 to honor Salvation Army volunteers who gave out donuts during World War I.