Annnnnd it got worse.

Guy walks into a bar.

“What’ll you have.”

“Whiskey. Neat.”

“Whiskey it is. Single, double?”

(Puts on Mickey Mouse gloves)

“Three fingers.”

I was going to tweet that, but decided against it. I think it’s clear, isn’t it? I mean, everyone knows that his gloves are big and oversized. So ha ha I need a lot of whiskey

But whiskey is for Tuesdays and Fridays. The days I don’t have a deadline. Not that whiskey makes it difficult to hit a deadline or even write - au contraire! It’s a reward, a job-well-done moment for having written and filed and added to the interminable procession of pieces that stretch back, back, back to 1978. I had to smile this morning when I saw an editorial cartoon on the edit page of the paper by Jack Ohman. I disagreed with it, as usual, but I also think Jack is the best in the country. And he drew the illo for my first column.

It was about T-shirt slogans, and was titled “Know Thyself: S, M, L” This was before the invention of XL, I guess. The only line I remember was how a young woman said that the T-shirt slogan “Trampolinists Make Better Lovers” wasn’t a lie, but a devastating understatement.

It never occurred to be before now, but I should have said Trombonists.

That was a common thing back then, on T-shirts and bumperstickers, the two main mediums of personal statements. “XX Make Better Lovers.” There was never any evidence put forward to back up the claim, but of course T-shirts and bumperstickers are not known for footnotes or citations. You’d think it would’ve morphed into a joke structure: why do people who write footnotes make bad lovers? Because they always do the op cit of what you want.

Okay, well, maybe there’s a reason it didn’t turn into a joke structure.

Anyway.

I don’t know if I can say anything about today, except that it happened at 3:07 PM. Perhaps being keen enough to sense the wind - or perhaps the lack of it - was a boon, because what might have been a shock felt like a confirmation.

Well.

Tomorrow is another day. And it will have a whiskey. Two fingers, not a Mickey Mouse glove.

More like an oven mitt.

Err -

Mind you, I do these well in advance. That said:

Good Lord, what have I done?

I’m sure this was a 2007 era Google Street View pic taken at a Batman-villain-lair mode, which I straightened. Must have been a garbage source if this is what I got. And why did I go back in time?

That’s why.

Something’s happening here, and it’s either controlled devolution to a smaller building, or prep for eventual destruction.

Only the faves, I guess

Down the street a bit:

Looks as if it has a few more decades left. It’s occupied. The upper floors appear to have the stickers indicating new glass. Here’s to a better future!

Oh

Is this a war memorial for a long-ago conflict in which only one solider was lost?

No, it’s an insurance office.

Cool sign! Wonder what the rest of his building looks like -

I can’t imagine anyone was happy with this. Not the client, not the architect, who didn’t expect people to be so critical, not the pedestrians and passersby. It’s uniquely awful, and not in an interesting way.

Yes, yes, I do think the upper stories were painted once, then the paint was removed, but not with any particular effort.

I suspect the cornice was more elaborate, balancing it out.

Buildings with spindly columns on the corners always look as if they’re insufficiently supported.

The ground floor looks occupied, but nothing else above. Interesting story here and I’ll never know it.

The burly confidence of the new century:

Did the ground floor get renovated, or did it somehow, in all these years, escape modification entirely?

LAVO

That’s really nice. Unique, too. It’s intentionally asymmetrical, but it’s a well-made composition. Subsequent bricking of the storefront over-the-plate-glass windows, alas. Almost looks like 1920s terra cotta.

Someone cared:

And someone didn’t. Care, that is.

Storefront over-the-plate-glass windows still extant. I mean, probably new glass at some point, but no one’s spoiled them.

OUMB from the White Elephant era of architecture.

More? Oh my yes. Lots more. But that’s next week.

That'll do. Motels await.