Two days left at work. Said more goodbyes today. Had my last piece of Lobby Pizza. Listened to office scuttlebutt about changes and uncertainties and unhappinesses. Hugs. Handshakes. hit the gym but I forgot my workout stuff, and that was fine, really. I was tired and I was sore.
Previously I drove through one of the neighborhoods where my car might have ended up. Not the bad one, because I'm not stupid. Well I am, because I hung on to the car and got dragged, but I'm not going into the Trouble Part of Town. At one point I found myself between two cars that had stopped for no apparent reason, and I had that surge: DANGER. But no. Downtown I saw a car that was my exact make and model with different plates, and I stopped to try my fob; a guy on the sidewalk suddenly made a move in my direction and I had the surge again. Drove off. Walking back from the office to my car - old car, that is, now wife's - there were two youts coming my way, and previously I would've done normal urban threat-assessment - exit points, likelihood I could punch and run or punch and fight, the normal guy stuff - this time I felt a slight inner cringe. I'm an old man! Leave me alone! I usually have a quick no-nonsense gait and I'm not looking at my phone, so I think I gave off a better-not vibe, but that could all be a delusion.
It'll pass, because I want it to pass.
I went back to look for my AirPods. I’d had a nap, so I was revived. I had put aside all the nasty comments on Instapundit about my situation - great site, but my God, those people - and checked the impound lot to see if the car had been recovered. Nope. I checked reddit to see if anyone had seen it. No sir.
Oh, right, about that:
You might think they just ban lost cars stuff because otherwise the site gets clogged, but:
I tried to message the mods, but:
Oh okay it’s personal. Got it. I'm one of those guys. Lower taxes and regulations, you know, a Nazi. I know I can comment on the sub, but two attempts to make a post were both deleted within seconds. The first was a be-on-the-lookout for a schizophrenic neighbor who had disappeared. Nope! Not from you. I know I am on a wide-spread ban list, because I once said something completely innocuous in the “Lockdown Skepticism” subreddit. Mind you, this was an anti-conspiracy theory / pro-vaccine subreddit, as per its rules, and concerned itself with the efficacy, length, and complications of the lockdowns. Just saying something in that room was enough to get me banned from a wide swath of utterly unrelated subreddits.
So I posted my car story in r/altmpls, which is the looser confederation of locals. They were supportive. Instapundit readers told me to carry, was a fool for not seeing a car behind me or noticing I was being followed, fighting back (okay that was ill-advised) and one took a particular swipe at me for self-pleasuring over 1960s design. A bunch of surly brackish jackasses. A few nice standouts, true, but for the most part no.
They took particular offense over my comment that this wasn’t supposed to live here because I live in a Nice Part of Town, doncha know, because there is nothing in Minneapolis that is nice and it’s all awful and so on. The usual cackling chickens. They know nothing. Oh, and I didn’t identify the races of the criminals. I would have, if it had been anomalous. Carjacking teams in this town are not German or Hmong. I didn’t mention that each had two feet, either.
Anyway. Life on the internet.
I drove to the first spot where the AirPod was located, Mr. Left Ear, and walked around. The Find my Phone feature put the AirPod squarely in a particular house. Can’t be right. I walked up and down the street some more, concentrating on the gutter and boulevard - after all, I’d found the garage remote in the gutter near the other AirPod location, indicating the bastard had dropped it out while paused at a stop sign. I had to laugh at the idea that the shitenoggin observed the stop sign.
“Still looking?” someone said. I looked up. A guy in a car. I guess I must have appeared to be looking for something, but -
Okay, get this. He reads the Bleat.
And:
It was HIS HOUSE that was showing the location. (Friendly wave to Chris.)
We looked, but found nothing. I asked if he could check his fireplace because maybe the bastard got up on the roof and dropped it down the chimney, or it took a good bounce and flew through the flue. I haven’t heard back on that but if you’re in the Comments, my friend, let me know.
I proceeded to the other place where the AirPods were still pining. Case and one pod. When I parked I looked at the map, and the location of both items was “With me.” This was not true. I know what you’re thinking; did I look up?
I walked down a block, thinking that the location might be off, since it was obviously wrong.
So there’s hope. And:
The other may be lost forever. I went back to the other location, thinking I’d expand the radius even more, but no. At some point I was on hands and knees looking down a sewer grate, and my sunglasses slipped out of my shirt pocket - but I saved them.
Well, it was something to do.
Tomorrow: The End. And more.
Welcome to West, Texas. In West Texas? Wikipedia: "Despite its name, the city is not located within the region of West Texas; area residents sometimes call the community "West comma Texas" to avoid repetition."
Also: "As of 2012 it has one of the largest concentrations of Czech Texans of any city in the state." Hmm? I had no idea:
Czech Texans, often informally called Czexans, are residents of the state of Texas who are of Czech ancestry. Large scale Czech immigration to Texas began after the Revolutions of 1848 changed the political climate in Central Europe, and after a brief interruption during the U.S. Civil War, continued until the First World War. Concentrated in Central Texas, Czech Texans have preserved their identity through the Czexan style of music, the Painted Churches of Texas, regular Czech dances and festivals, bakeries specializing in Czech pastries, and Czech and Czexan fusion cuisine.
Czexans. I like that.
1869 Coffee was a Texas brand, perhaps - there’s a restored sign in Waco that touts the brand. I found an online store that sells an enamel sign - a reproduction - that credits the Shear Coffee Co. of Waco.
Three for three, occupancy-wise; not bad.
Weathered remnants of previous occupants. Inscrutable now.
It’s a small town; don’t know how much museum they need.
But it’s good that they’re proud enough to have one.
I defy anyone to tease the name out of that mess.
You see it below, which might be why they don’t fix the sign.
Next door, the sign’s in fine shape.
Gawd.
Underneath that dreadful “Tudor” rehab and the ugly mansard-shingle mushroom cap, there’s probably an old bank building.
Nothing says “Mexican food” like the A-frame Swiss Chalet style
You never see Moorish facades like this anymore. Few were built and most are gone.
This one’s in bad shape.
OUMB, but it could be worse.
The late 60s - early 70s broad arcade with the tell-tale arches of the post-baroque modernism. It’s scarcity-era architecture.
I see a sign like that, and I think “It belongs in a museum!” Except that it doesn’t. It belongs on the street, lighting up the night.
When you put the neon signs in museums, they seem like sad animals in a zoo.
I know, I know, it looks like a skull that had its jaw blown off, but that was the original style for auto-related buildings.
Nothing to recommend it, except for the faint traces of an old sign.
Nothing to recommend it either, except for the strong remainders of an old sign and a previous purpose.
And that, as Matt Dillon used to say, was the West.
That will do for today,
