Remember when I said this was an interregnum week with scant Bleatage? Hah! You believed me! Let the following interminable entry be your punishment for that.

Back to Hunt and Gather, where the extent of some lady's ceramic clown collection has ended up. It's huge. You're seeing about 20% of the total. It's probably worth about thirty bucks.

I had to go back to see which slides had been surfaced from the great heap of unsellable pictures.

The reason for commemorating this moment in slide form will never be known.

Photos weren’t free, as they seem today. They were an investment of time and money. Someone needed to take this picture and felt compelled to save the result.

Church ladies, I presume.

They’re in their 60s, I’d say.

Women in their 60s don’t look like that anymore. But in the 20th century, women who entered a certain age were immediately commanded to bulk up into shapeless potato forms, put up their grey hair, and assume a matronly presence appropriate for the grandparent role.

Now they’d be wearing jeans and a sweatshirt with a sassy saying.

I never thought shots like this would look like a reminder of a lost world, but they do.

The Mall, of course.

The Mall auto show.

No idea where. Does it matter? It’s the 80s, I think, and it’s a Mall. Location: The U-frickin’-Nited States, Jack.

Do they make guys like this anymore?

I’m sure they do. The big rangy ones with the pack of smokes in the shirt pocket, the shorter ones with the shaggy hair with a cocktail, the easy grins and casual camaraderie.

This is a scene from a dream.

It’s all off. It’s all askew. The picture placement on the wall. The position of the people and their unwillingness to tell us anything about themselves or what they’re doing. The table and chairs.

None of it makes sense!

A resort? Hotel? Apartment building?

Did someone take this on vacation to show the folks back home where they’d stayed? Probably. And did anyone ooh and ahh, and say that looks nice? Because it doesn’t look nice.

Another of the apparently inexhaustible quantity of Texas last-picture-show small towns.

“So, you want a two-story building.”

“That’s right.”

“One two story building.”

“That’s right.”

“Not two two story buildings.”

“That’s right.”

“And you want the access for the upper floor right in the middle.”

“Access?”

Twas

'Twasn't

J. W. Stovall.

G. M. Carlton, I think.

And . . . Hatchery?

These pictures are from a Google Car visit ten years ago, as of the time of this writing. Things may have improved.

Around the corner:

An anti-itch powder. Google it, and your first results . . . will be this sign.

The obligatory Opry:

1895. It was most recently an antique store - of course - but Google says it’s permanent closed.

Ah, some more signs.

Excellent! Nicely preserved; it doesn’t look too fresh. If you turn around . . .

It seems to have taken the last few years hard.

Might just be the light.

The finest hotel in town, I'm sure. For a while, at least. Perhaps a long while.

A more American view you’ll never find.

The elements are kind to the old painted signs, it seems.

The Masonic Temple, with some regrettable ground-floor renovations.

Interesting stuff upstairs. Not sure it works, with the columns not going all the way down.

That is the quintessential Old Texas Building. Rough and practical.

With a sign on the side for the boon of the thirsty Texian.

I don’t think you can fill up anymore.

The old Gulf sign, once so familiar.

The Doc has to get in a plug as well:

By the way, the Google Street View archives are now complete, with all of 2023 now up. Dang! Lots of pages. Lots of work, to be honest and just a bit self-pitying.

		Now two ways to chip in!

That will suffice, I hope. The last of the 2023 Motels awaits.