As you know, when we begin with a blurry shot from the first Google car . . .

This is how it’ll look today.


As perfect a JFK-era Post Office can be. Like Depression Moderne, the style was elastic but refined, so there’s a homogeneity to all the government buildings. I love it.


When you think of it, the locals who painted these signs had to have stencils.


When the pressed-tin salesman is having a sale by the yard:

Interesting revelation of the old bones. The brick is fairly recent. Needs some love.

When you give a building a bad haircut, it stays ugly for a long time.

They would remove an entire floor sometimes. Why? Fire, tax purposes, something was falling down. They buildings always look humiliated afterwards.

But this part . . . doesn’t make sense.

Nothing about this building makes sense. It’s too hard to read.


A round of applause for that air conditioner, doing what it can to make the interior habitable.

The sigh looks original, but probably not. Just old.

And outdated: Google says it’s permanently closed.

Stare at it long enough and you’ll see a surprised frog face

There were interesting design choices made a hundred years ago in Ft. Gaines.



autoparts autoparts autopartsautoparts

(Note: when I looked at the text for this installment, I didn't know what I meant by that, until I did.)

Once again, I must ask: what is it with these guys and their upper floors?

I’ll chalk this up to the way the Google cars often warp time and space as they pass by.

More of the town’s strange circles:

The saddest thing you’ll see today.

You can see inside, and - oh.

But not all is lost. Cinematreasures:

Originally opened as the 300-seat Lyric Theatre. This small theatre was remodeled as the Ritz Theatre. In 1936 it was renamed Ritz Theatre, but was soon renamed Walker Theatre. It played movies through 1963 when it closed. Restoration on the theatre started in 2004. It will become an “open air” theatre with only a third of the building having a roof.

The front exterior and small marquee have been restored and the neon lights are again shining brightly.

Around the corner:

An old Pure, I think. You always know what these were.

Down the street:

The sign would indicate a gas station, no? Originally a Denver brand, then shuffled around in sales and consolidations.

Just to prove what it was . . .

The signs any amateur commercial archeologist would recognize.