Today was a day
that was thoroughly gray
and there's really not anything
further to say
Nevertheless, I will endeavor to say a few things. You may recall from yesterday's post my mention of an architectural obscenity polluting the air beside the old Pillsbury Flour Mill. The picture I'd snapped of both had somehow vanished yesterday, so today I snapped a new one, in spite of the gloominess permeating the sky and unfurling a shroud of unspeakable dullness over everything.
There, on the left side of the picture, seemingly sprouting from the Central Avenue bridge, is the condo apartment featured in yesterday's post. With all due respect to the architect for all his/her hard work and good intentions, I'm afraid the best thing I can say about this building is that, by contrast, it makes the Pillsbury sign look like an unparalleled triumph of aesthetic brilliance. I find it ironic (dontcha hate that phrase?) that the building provides an observation deck (for the chosen few) from which one may admire various architectural achievements that are attractive and interesting in ways that the observatory itself is not.
On my way back home, walking up the eastern edge of the island, I noticed a man doing something by the bus stop underneath the east side off-ramp of the Hennepin Bridge. There is almost always a bus sitting here at the curb, resting between excursions, a sort of in-between place, a place where, if the driver is a smoker, he or she will be standing outside the bus puffing away. The man, who had emerged from a white Metro Transit vehicle, seemed to be fiddling with the sign. When I drew up beside him, I saw that he was scrubbing the sign that read SHUT ENGINES OFF.
I continued walking, immediately regretting that I had not snapped a picture of him from the back--note to self: be more quick thinking! I was thinking to myself: how dirty can the sign be, that it requires someone come out specially to clean it? I soon came upon another identical sign, which showed me just how dirty it could be. This time I did pull out the camera. As you can see, it is indeed dirty (though I've seen worse), and I assumed that this sign would be next on the cleaner's itinerary. Before I'd gone much further, I heard the truck's engine behind me, and sure enough, there he was, diligently scrubbing the second sign. I wished I'd stopped to interview him about his job.
Next time I encounter someone doing something unusual, I'll try to be more quick thinking, so that I may turn the encounter into something more meaningful and blogworthy. At any rate, my observation of this morning prompted the idea to feature island signs in a future post. There are quite a collection of them, and many are rather interesting.
Life flows on, in and around us--sometimes it must be regulated by signs, and sometimes all a dreary gray day requires is a good scrubbing.
D.E.S.
that was thoroughly gray
and there's really not anything
further to say
Nevertheless, I will endeavor to say a few things. You may recall from yesterday's post my mention of an architectural obscenity polluting the air beside the old Pillsbury Flour Mill. The picture I'd snapped of both had somehow vanished yesterday, so today I snapped a new one, in spite of the gloominess permeating the sky and unfurling a shroud of unspeakable dullness over everything.
There, on the left side of the picture, seemingly sprouting from the Central Avenue bridge, is the condo apartment featured in yesterday's post. With all due respect to the architect for all his/her hard work and good intentions, I'm afraid the best thing I can say about this building is that, by contrast, it makes the Pillsbury sign look like an unparalleled triumph of aesthetic brilliance. I find it ironic (dontcha hate that phrase?) that the building provides an observation deck (for the chosen few) from which one may admire various architectural achievements that are attractive and interesting in ways that the observatory itself is not.On my way back home, walking up the eastern edge of the island, I noticed a man doing something by the bus stop underneath the east side off-ramp of the Hennepin Bridge. There is almost always a bus sitting here at the curb, resting between excursions, a sort of in-between place, a place where, if the driver is a smoker, he or she will be standing outside the bus puffing away. The man, who had emerged from a white Metro Transit vehicle, seemed to be fiddling with the sign. When I drew up beside him, I saw that he was scrubbing the sign that read SHUT ENGINES OFF.
I continued walking, immediately regretting that I had not snapped a picture of him from the back--note to self: be more quick thinking! I was thinking to myself: how dirty can the sign be, that it requires someone come out specially to clean it? I soon came upon another identical sign, which showed me just how dirty it could be. This time I did pull out the camera. As you can see, it is indeed dirty (though I've seen worse), and I assumed that this sign would be next on the cleaner's itinerary. Before I'd gone much further, I heard the truck's engine behind me, and sure enough, there he was, diligently scrubbing the second sign. I wished I'd stopped to interview him about his job.Next time I encounter someone doing something unusual, I'll try to be more quick thinking, so that I may turn the encounter into something more meaningful and blogworthy. At any rate, my observation of this morning prompted the idea to feature island signs in a future post. There are quite a collection of them, and many are rather interesting.
Life flows on, in and around us--sometimes it must be regulated by signs, and sometimes all a dreary gray day requires is a good scrubbing.
D.E.S.
You seem to have a lot of grey (weather) days there. Is it like that all winter? Summer too?
ReplyDeleteNo, it is not like that all winter. We'll sometimes have gray days that stretch into a week or more, but the sun usually returns before long with the razor sharp clarity that only Minnesota winters can bring. And there is plenty of glorious sunshine in spring, summer and fall. (Fall is is my favorite.)
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