There was an obstreperous drunk in the building yesterday. Security moved him out one painful yard at a time, stopping while he issued a tirade, after which he went into a silent reverie. Three minute stand-off, then he’d walk a few feet, then yell, then go into a silent funk. He’s notable by his bright safety jacket. Probably in his late 50s, early 60s, or maybe much younger; hard to say. Today he was outside drinking from a bottle of Listerine. Deep long glugs.

The first-Wednesday=of-the-month emergency sirens went off, and he didn’t flinch at all. I knew they were coming and I was still jolted. That’s serious intoxication.

Then he tottered inside for round two.

Well, it’s a damp day of pain, with back ache from yesterday’s ill-advised move on an abdominal machine. Tottering a bit myself, which I hate - just makes you a bit irritated. “It’ll be better in a couple of weeks,” one of the gym gals said, the most depressing utterance of the month. Then again, it’s only the first.

You'll have to forgive the lack of additional fascinating detail on the day, because I'm pressed hard by other obligations. On some blogs, that would mean "hey, I'm busy" and that would be it, and then the blog would falter and stop updating regularly But ha! Not here! Besides, this week's Here to There is long.

You sigh, prepared for scrolling and skipping, but don't worry: it's mostly pictures. And a happy ending.

I'd say "without further ado," but that makes me think that the previous paragraph was "ado."

Today's version pairs nicely with Main Streets, I think. How do we get from here . . .

  How do we get from here . . .
  . . . to here?

This YouTube channel upscales and colorizes old footage. The colorization is always speculative - I don’t think there were that many purple cars and purple suits - but the effect can be revelatory.

Los Angeles:

It’s so clean. Those typefaces! It’s like the set of Things to Come, without the unpleasent techo-fascism.

The same area:

Ah, the theater helps us fix the precise location, as always.

Nice to see it survived. Is the neighbor on the right a rehab, an homage? Was that covered by signs in the earlier picture?

The post-war office building we can do without.

The benefits of perpendicular signage:

And would you look at that: it survived.

Not only that, but this . . .

Would seem to be this, based on location.

But wait. Pig ’n’ Whistle? We’ve been over this before, how the name “originates from two Old English words, piggin, a lead mug, and wassail, a wine associated with the Yuletide season.” But the main Wikipedia article is about the original on Hollywood Boulevard, and makes no mention of another location. Well, there were many. It was a chain with almost 2 dozen spots, eventually.

An embassy from the future race that came back to warn us about our mistakes, but gave up and quit.

Then the mood in the film switches to night.

Can we fix the precise location?

Back up the footage a few blocks . . .

Ah. So that tells us which street. Back to that coffee shop. This is the place today.


Maxwell House. We all know the brand. Do we know the history?

It was named after a hotel that sold a particular brand of coffee. The hotel let the coffee vendor use the name, and it became nationally famous. Supposedly its tagline - good to the last drop - was uttered by Teddy Roosevelt, but there’s no evidence of that. What he said, supposedly, was “This is the kind of stuff I like to drink, by George, when I hunt bears.” Which I like better.

Who was Maxwell? It was not the builder; his name was Overton. (So his hotel had Overton windows, har har.) Maxwell was his wife’s maiden name.

  There’s a book about her.

From the book:

Harriet Overton, the second First Lady of Travellers Rest and the mother of five children, was thrust into total management of the 2300 acre plantation while her husband, John, was away during the Civil War. Not yet thirty years old, Harriet struggled to nurture her children, direct the work of her fifty slaves, and fend off the challenges of the Union Army troops on her property. When the Travellers Rest plantation became the battlefield during the Battle of Nashville in 1864, Harriet defended her family, home, and property. Her southern pride continued throughout her lifetime.

The sole review notes that her family had “progressive” views. I wonder what those might have been, given the whole slavery part.

Anyway, back to old LA. Two more things:

Same street, so . . . sigh.

But then there's this, next to the Bristol.

Who'd have thought?

I just want to know why it was named after the mascot for the U of Minnesota athletic teams.













Aita Iowa! Name? Founder’s daughter, minus a vowel. Two thousand souls. Its motto: Feel the Energy. Reputation, according to its website: “quickly becoming known as a bedroom community for Storm Lake." That's where Buddy Holly and the Bopper and Valens bought it.



It’s like a hastily-improvised prosthetic limb:

ROXY: Cinema Treasures doesn’t have much to say, but a few photos of the building on the right don’t answer the question about rehab vs. new construction. But it was a Gamble’s, once.

Diagonal wood vs. clone-tool pressed-tin facade, and hooo boy

I do hope it’s really twenty to two.

You can tell it’s a rehabbed old 20s bank, with a new addition, everything crisp and modern. A few old farmers shook their heads in dismay; they just didn’t see the appeal.


How do you let people know that the Temple only occupies part of the building?

And why would you want to?

Long gone.

Note the planter: that’s the ubiquitous pebble-aggregate model you could all over once upon a time. I can’t tell you if they started popping up in the 60s or 80s or whether they just always existed after 1965, willed into being by the imagination of some bored god.

Big bro poses for a picture with his siblings, putting his arm around them in a gesture of love and protection.


All at once, or not?

I think it was built in two stages, because there are two entrances to upstairs, and of course the windows are maddeningly difficult.

An obit for the builder’s son - maybe - gives us some clues:

Art was born on June 29, 1915 in Alta, Iowa, the son of Gust & Jenny (Bengtsson) Ryden. He graduated from Alta High School in 1933. After graduation, he worked at his father’s clothing and dry cleaning business. He was employed by the Bank of Alta as a teller in the mid 1930’s and then in 1939 as a teller for the Bank of America in Gilroy, California.

Wonder what made him light out for Golden State.

The tallest building in town. The armory of the breadbasket. The elevator.

That must mean there’s train tracks around . . . ah, the station.


It has a cafe: the Crum-Brew-Le. Really.

Do you get the reference in the logo? Rather clever.

Look what they left behind:


It’s been a very long time since it went anywhere, and you wonder if it’ll just be there forever.

Hope so.

Now two ways to chip in!

Well, that was a lot. And there's more! Good Lord, this is crazy.




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