Every. Damned. Day I have this same routine with my computer. The same annoying sequence of events that always ends the same way, and takes up time, and reminds us how the smallest irritations can compound until they're enormous.
When I found myself shouting at the screen in a particular cadence I decided to transcribe the dialogue in my head.
It helps if this is read aloud, and read aloud loudly.
USR Ermey: PRIVATE LIBRARY EJECT THIS THUMB DRIVE
Private Library: SIR I CANNOT SIR
USR Ermey: PRIVATE LIBRARY I DON’T BELIEVE I HEARD YOU CORRECTLY I ASKED YOU TO EJECT THIS DESK
Private: SIR THE DISK IS CURRENTLY IN USE SIR
USR Ermey: ARE YOU SH*TTING ME PRIVATE LIBRARY
Private: SIR NO SIR THE DISK IS IN USE BY AN APPLICATION SIR
USR Ermey: DO YOU SEE ANY OPEN APPLICATIONS MAGGOT? DID YOU NOT SEE YOUR DRILL INSTRUCTOR CLOSE THE ONLY PROGRAM USING A FILE ON THAT DISK?
Private: SIR THE PRIVATE BELIEVES A BACKGROUND PROCESS HAS NOT COMPLETED SIR
USR Ermey: WELL THEN LADIES ARE WE ALL GOING TO SIT AROUND HERE WITH OUR THUMBS UP OUR AS*SES WAITING FOR PRIVATE LIBRARY’S PROCESSES TO COMPLETE?
Platoon: SIR NO SIR
USR Ermey: I CAN’T HEAR YOU! SOUND OFF LIKE YOU GOT A TWISTED PAIR
Platoon: SIR NO SIR
USR Ermey: AND WHAT DO WE DO WHEN THE DISK WON’T EJECT BECAUSE IT’S HOLDING ON TO SOMETHING LIKE THE MEMORY OF MARY JANE ROTTENCROCH?
Platoon: SIR FORCE EJECT SIR
Usr Ermey: Thaaaat’s right. But THIS TAKES TIME, AND TIME IS SOMETHING A MARINE DOES NOT WASTE. MARINES TAKE OTHER PEOPLE’S TIME AWAY FROM THEM. But since Private Library has consented to waste everyone’s time, we will force quit and let him finish. ARE YOU FINISHED, PRIVATE LIBRARY
Private: SIR NO SIR THE OS IS WRITING TO THE LOG SIR
Usr Ermey: (rips out Private’s tongue)
Private: SIR THE PRIVATE IS REQUIRED TO INFORM THE DRILL INSTRUCTOR THAT THE PRIVATE’S TONGUE WAS NOT PROPERLY REMOVED SIR
Usr Ermey: (Punches private in solar plexus) LET THIS, BE A LESSON, TO YOU ALL! WHEN A DISK IS REQUESTED TO BE REMOVED IT WILL BE REMOVED WITHOUT FEAR OR HESITATION
Platoon: SIR YES SIR
Usr Ermey: I CAN’T HEAR YOU
Platoon: SIR YES SIR
Usr Ermey: Dismissed
As I said on Twitter at some point, I would like my obit to have a line like “every few months, he was required by a sense of duty to point out that the retro ad on the Internet was actually a fake,” since that appears to be my life’s work now and then.
An additional line would note that he left this world with a perfectly annotated file system, with none of his photos unnamed. That just hints at the work required to deal with the ceaseless accumulation of photos and videos and magazines and audio grabs and whatnot. I think you know me well enough at this point that it’s no shock to say I am not only working on the 2019 site additions, but I'm working on the matchbook additions for 2021. (156 to do, 140 done)
It struck me the other night that most people do not live like this. Most people have a lot of pictures on their phone, and that’s about it. Maybe they put them on their computer, and that’s about it. I have this obsessive curation of everything, arranged by year, scenario, subject, and so on - and one thing nags me.
So what?
Well, at the very least it’s a record of things I can bequeath - all those pictures of Minneapolis have a certain quotidian everyday Sam-Pepys-diary use; I’m always interested when someone discovers a cache of photos taken by some obsessive unknown who documented their world. But there's also the small pleasure of learning something about which you previously didn't care.
For example.
I'm sure matchbook research took me Flowers after Van Hysum, but I don't know how. I do know that I downloaded from Archive.org a 1909 Chintz Catalogue, thinking it might be interesting or useful in some way.
This isn't something I like, at all. But millions did. It was high style. And who's Van Huysum? Should I know that names?
As you might expect, he was a Dutch painter. Quite the lineage:
Jan van Huysum was the brother of Jacob van Huysum, the son of the flower painter Justus van Huysum, and the grandson of Jan van Huysum I, who is said to have been expeditious in decorating doorways, screens and vases.
The entry also notes:
Half of his pictures in public galleries are landscapes, views of imaginary lakes and harbours with impossible ruins and classic edifices, and woods of tall and motionless trees-the whole very glossy and smooth, and entirely lifeless.
Snap. Here's an example of his still life work, you can see how it lent itself to chintz.
I don't like Chintz, but I like this:
Medieval, or at least how some artists interpretede medieval, based on some tapestry.
Dear God, the Late Georgian really lost the plot:
I wonder if there's any left at the actual Burlington House. Speaking of which: the wikipedia entry for the house's history and design says:
The courtyard of Burlington House, known as the "Annenberg Courtyard", is open to the public during the day. It features a statue of Joshua Reynolds, and fountains arranged in the pattern of the planets at the time of his birth.
I wondered if that had anything to do with the guy who founded a magazine where I worked for a year. Why yes.
Finally:
I can see that covering a chair, but all the walls? Gah.
As for the word itself:
Chintz (from the plural of chint) was originally glazed calico textiles, initially specifically those imported from India, printed with designs featuring flowers and other patterns in different colours, typically on a light plain background. Since the 19th century the term has also been used for the style of floral decoration developed in those calico textiles.
In modern times the word has come to mean a
cheap, low quality, or gaudy things, including personal behavior.
Another word whose meaning has been inverted.
Little Falls: it’s not near Great Falls.
One hell of a Romanesque County Seat Courthouse:
The current courthouse was completed in 1891 and built in the Victorian Romanesque Revival style. It was designed by C.A. Dunham and built by Foster and Smith of Minneapolis at a cost of $55,000.
You can't see the additions here, and perhaps that's just as well.
In 1961, a flat, rectangular, two-story brick building with vertical bands of windows was added on the north at a cost of $187,519. In 1969, slightly more than $500,000 built a matching brick "projecting-drawer box" on the northeast corner of the square. A glass concourse connects the three.
The two worst years to add anything to a building from this era.
I’m torn. On one hand, that’s not original, and the windows look off-putting . . .
On the other hand, they did use polychrome stone in the old days, and it’s certainly better than having its brickwork scraped off or hidden. Still needs a sandblasting, though.
Three buildings? One?
W. Tonn, 1895. History:
The W. Tonn Building was constructed in 1895 by William Tonn and was first used as a saloon. In the early to mid-1900s it was transformed into Smacker's Pool Hall and remained that for many years.
A false wooden facade covered the original brick for many years and also concealed the steel storefront columns and transom windows, which were lost from public view. They were uncovered in 1998 when the owner, David Verkkuilen, had the storefront renovated.
The crisp sophistication of the late 60s . . .
. . . is nowhere on display.
I don’t know if this was built in two stages or one.
What seems clear: the bottom floor had a different type of window, suffered modernization, and was re-rehabbed to make the ground floor fit in again with the rest of the building. Doesn’t entirely work, but it's better than a long Buckaroo Revival shingled awning (Shudder)
All I can say is . . .
Herein lies a tale.
How now, brown town:
"We'll let them look halfway out the second floor, but third floor? Forget it."
The rare sign of an old chain: you don’t see many Recall ghost ads.
The building next door was obviously added to the picture by computer animation.
A beautiful restoration, or perhaps it was never covered up in the first place:
You know what the building on the corner was, don't you? Without peering at the carving?
And you know what this one is.
Obligatory 60s / 70s downtown-ruining bad bank.
Ahhh. Come on in - for popcorn, you say? I could be convinced.
CinemaTreasures.com:
The Little Theatre opened in 1913 and built on the site of the former Lowell Theatre that was destroyed by fire in that same year. That was destroyed by fire in 1933 and the Falls Theatre was built and opened in May 1933.
The exterior features flashing neon lights, black vitrolite highlights the marquee and around the poster cases of the lobby.
After a couple remodels it was again remodeled in 1937 to reflect the 10th anniversary of Charles Lingbergh’s trans-atlantic flight. Charles Lindbergh was from Little Falls. The theatre was given an aviation theme. A mural of an aviator holding, a globe, an airplane and a dirigable.
Marquees like this made a town proud. They made your town your town.
Will that do for today? SIR YES SIR |