YESTERDAY morning, with rain beating down on Baltimore and the old town looking like death in that nice, autumnal kind of way, I had this thought: The guy with the aquarium place on West 36th Street in downtown Hampden ought to replace the grooved, ornamental plywood on his storefront, or at least paint it. Really. His little shop would look so much nicer with red tile or glazed brick.

But that thought was followed immediately by this one: Who am I to say such a thing?

This is Hampden, hon, and I'm just an interloper, a passing tourist on the crowded Avenue of Life. Plus, I can remember a time -- not so long ago, really -- when I, too, thought grooved, ornamental plywood (Texture 1-11) was the greatest invention since Salad Shooter, and I wanted to tack T-1-11 to everything, including my kitchen walls, thinking it would have a rustic effect.

So, to each his own, and good luck to Red Dolphin Aquariums!

Next thought: The front window of the Hampden Food Market is covered with large signs advertising almost nothing but beer by the six-pack and case, and what is the proprietor trying to say? That beer passes for food in Hampden? Really, wouldn't a hand-painted sign that said "Pork Chops, $4.99" be more appropriate for a food market, or at least maintain the pretense?

But then, who am I to say how a store should present itself to the public? And did somebody die and make me dietitian for greater Hampden? There are a lot of people who would rather drink beer than eat bread to get their daily minimum of carbohydrates, and it's a free country and who am I to lecture anyone about their personal habits?

Another thought: Maybe the guy who runs Hampden Shoe Repair shouldn't be offering hubcaps and fancy chrome wheels for sale in his front window. Oh, the incongruity!

But you know what? It's a free country dominated by Republicans now, and you never know when someone is going to walk in for new soles and get excited about a secondhand set of 14-inch hubcaps.

Besides, isn't that what the marketing geniuses call diversification? Or maybe the new word is synergy. I forget.

And, moreover, isn't that just the way things are in this town?

Sometimes a little strange.

Always a little bit out of place.

Just slightly whacked.

It's what I look for. I don't go into Subway and expect to see used hubcaps for sale. You know what I mean? The last thing Wal-Mart wants to be known as is "funky." Seen one supermarket, you've seen them all.

Life should have more surprises than that, and, God be praised, there are still a grand number of merchants -- new and old -- in this town who keep a certain amount of funk and quirk in their enterprises. A little rough edge gives everything that lived-in feeling. If that ever stopped being part of Baltimore, then I'd keel over from ennui and drown in a leaf-filled puddle of autumn rain.

A savory proposition

The owners of the beloved Pinebrook Restaurant in Hampden have retired, and they have the place up for rent. There's a handwritten sign on the iron grate in front of the place. Very sad.

Longtime devoted customers of this little city treasure on 36th Street -- "Overlooked, unpromising in aspect, but stunningly great," said a City Paper review in 1999 -- would like to see the following conditions met by the restaurateurs who would replace William Chang and his wife, Yue Chi:

1. Restaurant must remain as it is -- ordinary and small, with no new, fancy furnishings to replace the Formica.

2. Faded sign on the front -- "5,000 years of fine food" -- must stay.

3. Large portions of simple and delicious northern Chinese food, made to order with fresh ingredients, must be served.

4. No dish more than $6.

5. Food cooked by a quiet, focused co-owner. Co-owner's spouse must wait on tables and handle carryout orders with few words but ready smile. No other employees necessary.

6. The wait for food must be long -- even when there's only one customer in the place -- but not annoyingly or pretentiously so. Famished customers will be allowed to leave the Pinebrook, walk down 36th to 7-Eleven, buy a snack and munch on it while waiting for dinner to arrive.

7. Restaurant must be open from 5 p.m. to 10 p.m. seven days a week.

8. No credit cards.

9. No pupu platters.

10. No egg rolls.

Do all this, basically re-create what the Changs had for 22 quiet and delicious years, and you'll do well.