Raw and mean today, biting, foul, occasional spitting. But enough about me, how was the weather? Ha! What a kidder. No, it was one of those days in March that summon the term a raw scrape, and that’s fine. The previous prediction had five inches of snow. I’ve already made the transition to the snow-is-over mindset, so no thanks to that.

Good day, all things considered. It began with something I saw on the ground as I was putting out the trash this morning.

 

How? What journey did it take? Wife said it probably fell out when she was going through my old car, which is now her car - but how did a two-pound coin get into my car in the first place? I take this as a sign that I must return it to its home, and spend it on a lottery ticket that would enable me to buy a place in Walberswick.

Eh, you say, do you really want to live in England? I do. Not TikTok England. Not Xwitter England. Not BBC England. But the England I know, which also incorporates all of the above. I am old enough so that I don't think there's any chance of tiring of London. Unless I get stabbed, of course, but it's all where you go. I had a very nice safe afternoon in Whitechapel, which was famously stabby once upon a time.

End-of-the-billing period for the AI site, so I’m just throwing everything into it to burn up credits. I will not end up using the following art for the main page, so I think I’ll post it here to provide a challenge for you, the Bleatnik.

What do you think is going on above? It’s not AI. It’s a photo clipped from some ancient promotional material.

After a few passes through the AI “do something to it” filter, it came out like this.

I know what it is now. It’s the perspective that confuses its true purpose.

This one was frustrating, but here we go anyway.

   
  What's the journey that takes us from this image . . .
   
  . . . to this one?
   

I might have clipped this to remind me that there was, for one shining moment, a Heinz Magazine of the Air. Or because of the happy couple:

That is not an endorsement of marriage, to be honest. They seem absolutely scoured and drained by the experience.

The story above says the Hockinsons celebrated - if that's the word - their 50th at the home of their daughter, W. L Grinde.

Let's check out the Grindes, who had 60 years of marriage. (They would die within months of each other in 1943.) Find a Grave helps. The site says Carl and his wife, Mrs. Carl, had nine children, seven of whom who made it into adulthood. Clara operated a beauty shop on Main Street. Mabel had a daughter who died in 2012. Martin went on to be the mayor of Great Falls MT. Et cetera.

But there's no W. L. Grinde.

A Minneapolis Tribune store references W. L. Grinde, referenced in the Married 50 Years story above, engaged as a candy manufacturer in 1931. I’d show you his house, but the address no longer exists. The numbers skip rom 5027 to 5031 with no space in between the house.

So maybe he didn’t exist.

Colton is a small town Google didn’t bother to capture in its entirety. Google Carl Grinde, though:

Carl A. Grinde of Colton, at one time county auditor, was a county seat visitor. Mr. Grinde made an official announcement of his intentions of becoming a candidate for the republican nomination for county treasurer. Mr. Grinde belong [sic] to the insurgent wing of the republican party. It was rumored several days ago, about the time of the last insurgent conference that Mr. Grinde would come out as a candidate in the near future.

Meaning? He was a silver man, not a gold man.

He was buried in the St. Ansgar Graveyard, named after this fellow, who's in the here-there picture above. He met with two Danish kings, which leads to this underwhelming bit of royal biography:

Horik II (died after 864), also known as Hårik or, in late sources, Erik Barn(Danish: "Erik the Child"), was King of the Danes from the fall of Horik I in 854 to an unknown date between 864 and 873. During his reign the Danish kingdom showed tendencies of breaking up. After his demise under unknown circumstances, Denmark entered a long period of obscurity.

The murk of the post-Horik period.

 
 
 

   

We met this town yesterday through the medium of an old newspaper. Let's see what's there today.

A gas station, of course, and a big one. A custom job, perhaps, not to brand specs? Can’t say.

What interests me, besides the friendly local, is the story behind that planter. Might have been a base left over from a sign.

Annnnd it’s gone.

Well, let’s head downtown, and see what we can see.

Ah yes, our old friends, Ruin and Decay.

They’re having a sidewalk sale.

Interesting, but peculiar:

I’ve never seen a WPA-era design like that. So it’s possibly not a WPA.

COME VISIT OUR PICTURESQUE MEMORIAL FOUNTAIN

What the hell

They built a Hollywood Bowl on the corner of the Courthouse square?

If it is a bandshell, it’s absolutely tiny. What was the purpose of that thing?

I found a website that says it was built in 1945. And that's about all I can tell you.

The oh-so-American 1889 courthouse.

On the historic register, as it should be.

These buildings give me a variety of emotions. Admiration and regret. The memory, which may not be real, of seeing them in the setting sun of a summer evening, and marveling at the stillness of the town.

Was it always bricked up, or were these store fronts for a prosperous local merchant?

A canvas for ads for a long time now.

This is the most inscrutable thing I’ve seen in months.

But once everyone knew the function of those holes, or at least knew who to ask.

Someone took good care of his cornice.

You wonder if they were contiguous, if the owners struck a deal once.

Hello to you too!

“One day a building started to shimmer, and then it just faded out in a strange metallic fog, and when the fog lifted, there was this old house there, and a nice ladyat the door wiping her hands on her apron, inviting people in for some freshly-baked pie. Folks who went in were never seen again.”

“Then the house was gone.”

More next week. I hope they're more interesting.

That will do. Last single-shot streetview updates for the year await. Reminder: Substack's free this week. Regrettable Food up around 11.