Once Somebody's Dream

We get to see so many cool things out here that it's easy to forget about the other side, the side that just makes you sad. I'm a pretty optimistic person, and generally a fairly happy guy, and I tend to shy away from writing about stuff that gives me the blues. My emotions tend to be a little too close to the surface and...well, anyway, this post is about the sadder side of what we see.

This photo of the old Michigan Central Train Station was taken several years ago as we were returning from Canada, about half way across the Ambassador Bridge. Yeah, you can see right through it. There was a time when it was the face of Detroit (my hometown for those of you who have not been paying attention). There are rumors it's going to rise again, but given the recent $$ problems Detroit is having, I wouldn't hold my breath on it ever approaching its former greatness (when it was completed in 1913-14 it was the tallest train station in the world).

It was 1920s-30s-40s gorgeous. It was Detroit's Grand Central Station...marble, crazy busy, enormous and unnecessary crystal chandeliers, opulence, decadence, several sets of tracks, a Terminal Diner (RIP George Carlin - if you don't get the reference, look it up), and international trade and commerce in a city that was in its heyday. I last saw the inside of it in the 1970s and it was still awesome. At the moment, it's a footnote.

But that's only the most visible symbol of what I'm talking about in this post. I have taken a lot of photos of buildings that are in serious decay. I can't help but try to picture some woman or man standing there, looking out over a piece of ground and saying to him or herself: "I see a building that needs to be there." They believed what they thought, and then made it happen. And then many years later, some guy in a truck came by and took a photo of what was once their dream, but is now a structure that deserves only the dignity of being burned down. [sigh]

I have been fascinated for a long time now about older houses and barns. They have character, they have a life of their own, they breathe a uniqueness, and in their own special way, they make me sad. Well, maybe sad isn't quite the right word - how about melancholy. Anyway: here are some photos of places that are way past their prime. Places that were once somebody's dream, but are now something far less than that. I have stories in my head about these places, and stories about who lived there, and what their lives were like. I invite you to make up stories of your own....

OK, confession, the last photo, JR's place, still exists as a functioning Bar/Grill. We've been there, it's in Belvidere, South Dakota (yes, that spelling is correct), not far from an Indian reservation. And, we actually met JR himself - that's another post coming soon to a computer or smartphone near you. It also has a campground right next to it, as the 1/2 -sign might suggest (but I'm not sure I'd ever camp there, unless it was with a small contingent of Marines).

Utah

I've started this particular post several times now. The original intent was to poke fun at the state - it's a large, slow-moving target particularly in terms of its predominant religion and its often downright scary conservative politics. But that's too easy. Besides, the South Park guys have already done a masterful job of that with The Book of Mormon.

Every state (at least 48 that I know) has its own personality - so much so that sometimes you can tell when you've crossed into a new state just by looking at the terrain. You don't always need a map. This is pretty much true for Utah just about anywhere you enter the state. In terms of raw, rugged, inhospitable beauty, it's very hard to outdo Utah. So I figure Utah deserves photos - it's a visual feast.

This shot of Devil's Slide is my favorite. It's not far from Ogden, and it's a bizarre limestone protrusion that's about 25 feet wide and runs up the side of a mountain for several hundred feet - almost straight up and down. It certainly looks like it would be a trip you'd only make once.

The photo immediately below is Ghost Rock, near Moab. The rest of the photos were taken either at roadside rest areas, or hanging out of the side of the truck - I'll let them speak for themselves...

By the way, just in case you've made it this far, I highly recommend a trip to Utah. No photography is going to do the state justice. You have to see it for yourself. That's just the way it is...

Yeah, I Got Yer Global Warming Right Here...

I'm not a climate scientist, but I'll be glad to explain Ebola to you, and enlighten you as to exactly why the second amendment is sacred but the 14th amendment is not. And, ya know, a snowball on the floor of the Senate is worth more than the credibility of a committee chairmanship. But you knew that.

Ha! And don't even get me started on how July 2015 was the warmest month recorded since the Big Bang, which by the way was about 5,700 years ago (I can't be exact since I am not a scientist, but I do have some well-thought-out opinions on whether or not we should actually listen to this new Pope). And, I'm pretty sure there are photographs of Adam and Eve with dinosaurs...the timing seems right.

And, this Ice thing. It's such a total offset. Get this: we are already moving coastal Alaskan villages inland because rising water levels that aren't actually happening are flooding stuff we're not ready to admit to. Jeez, what's next. And, just in case you weren't paying attention, people that live in Alaska are Americans (there's that whole 14th amendment thing again)...and damn, I'll bet there are some laws out there somewhere that say we gotta take care of them (and, come to think of it, we should probably drug test them, too). 

So let's get back to this ice thing. If we let this slide, then according to conventional wisdom, we're gonna have to deal with voter fraud...again. And that bites. They (that ubiquitous they) are gonna start with that .003 percent of Americans that feel compelled to vote twice, or find it necessary to hang those chads just to force us to use math (and, I believe you have to be a scientist to use math). It's pretty sinister. 

The reality of it all is that there is really no reality any more - we have to stage that according to the average of several polls produced from data from people who actually still answer their phone. So if you really want to be real these days, you need to be at least in the top ten (or eleven now) of that 5% of the 25% that still have land lines and will talk to strangers. This is why we need to leave math to the scientists. Really.

But I digress...  Anyway: now the Boss wants to buy more heavy Arctic ice-breakers so we can not only keep up with the Russians (Joneskis?), but we can also be ready to break up all those glaciers that are turning into non-ice, which, I believe, is still water. But, according to one leading congressman (who also admits to not being a scientist) when the ice in your glass finally melts, your glass does not overflow, which is a big relief (at least until Charles and David Koch decide to fund a definitive scientific study that shows your glass really does overflow).

But it's all good because we're going to get the next President we deserve, and we can all breathe that collective sigh of relief that comes with knowing that we voted for her/him on purpose.  I can hardly wait until we can put all of this in our collective rear view mirrors, which undoubtedly will require some scraping because of this whole damn global warming thing.

Time Wounds All Heels*

It's time.

I've been wounding myself too long with the slings and arrows of outrageous procrastination (boredom?), and even if no one reads this, it still needs to be written. So it goes with the ways of writing...it doesn't count if you don't offer it up for outside perusal (regardless of whether or not it actually gets read).

Writing is therapeutic. Blogging, however, is your ego pretending you have something to say that might actually matter to someone else, or assuming you have a brand that's different enough to stand out. So much of it is all just bugshit on a windshield. But, hey, it's been five years since I posted much stuff and I still have a really big windshield, and now I have a nice camera, and I have a B.A. in BS from a respectable college (actually the degree is pretty old, but, come to think of it, so am I). And, I have a whole bunch of new bugshit to write about - so you might just want to duck, or at least keep your windshield wipers on high for a while.

* There is some debate as to who first actually said "Time wounds all heels." I prefer to believe it was Groucho Marx just because I can.