Imagine if there’d been twin Chrysler towers. Better? Worse?

I think the AI is pulling the Paramount building in the middle there. And I think the AI is deeply confused about what the 1939 World’s Fair looked like.

Nine degrees today, less wind, so it felt normal and non-lethal. The office was packed to the gunwales, not that we have gunwales, because the Owner was coming by for a meeting. If you don’t know: “Glen Allen Taylor (born April 20, 1941) is an American billionaire business magnate and politician from Minnesota. Taylor made his fortune from being the founder and owner of Minnesota-based Taylor Corporation, one of the largest graphic communication companies in the United States.”

I think people were expecting - or fearing - NEWS that would directly affect everyone, i.e., sale or layoffs, and what we got was the announcement of continued efforts to improve and grow. I’m being vague, I know, but it was good! The opposite of contraction.

BTW, I went to the Wikipedia page for the StarTribune, and hah:

		Hanging in there, I am. If anyone inquires about my job, I can say “I am neither former nor deceased.”

Otherwise, today was a carbon-copy of yesterday, except maybe it was goldenrod. No, that’s wrong; yesterday had the mid-week rewards, the wee dram of whisky and a small serving of delicious ice cream. Tonight I am enjoying a fine glass of vin du boite, the Traders Joe variety. Dry and plummy with a top note of the Smuckers jam that comes in those little plastic tubs with the foil cover you have to remove by lifting up a corner. And let us all note with appreciation that the foil never ripped. That top came off clean.

We always assumed it would.

One of the things I miss about cruising is the lack of small foil jam containers that somehow ended up in your pocket and gosh how did that happen ended up in your suitcase. When I sailed the Queen Mary, and I saw that all the individual servings were in glass containers with metal lids, I thought, well, this is how the other half lives.

But they’re not the other half, are they? That suggests a society neatly split into two distinct classes of equal size. We associate the term with Riis’ expose of tenement conditions, which implies that the number of poor people living 14 to a room on the 9th floor of a cold-water walk-up was equal to the number of middle- and upper-class people. Perhaps that was so.

Anyway: fine day. Much done. On to other things:

Our weekly recap of a Wikipedia peregrination. Expect no conclusion or revelations, but if you've been with us since this started next year, you know . . . sometimes we learn interesting things.

		So! How do we get from here . . .
		. . . to there?

I saw this ad in a 1924 LA paper:

		You! You there! You have to buy a house! I don't care what you think about it!

But where is it? On another day:

The neighborhood now seems to be called Bullard, but Normal Acres still comes up in search terms.

It’s eleven blocks to the University, which is on . . . Normal Avenue. What was it with Normal?

I think I know. It’s an archaic term for a type of school.

In 1685, St. Jean-Baptiste de La Salle, established the Institute of the Brothers of the Christian Schools, founded what is generally considered the first normal school, the École Normale, in Reims, Champagne, France. The term "normal" in this context refers to the goal of these institutions to instill and reinforce particular norms within students. "Norms" included historical behavioral norms of the time, as well as norms that reinforced targeted societal values, ideologies and dominant narratives in the form of curriculum.

Sure enough, the town was advocating for a Normal School in 1911, and got one a few years later. Back to Jean-B:

La Salle was born to a wealthy family in Reims, France, on 30 April 1651. He was the eldest child of Louis de La Salle and Nicolle Moet de Brouillet. Nicolle's family was a noble one and ran a successful winery business; she was a relative of Claude Moët, founder of Moët & Chandon.

That’s an august lineage. In case you’re wondering: yes, that’s who the La Salle schools are named after.

An asteroid was named after him. The list is a fascinating tour of august names, with a lot of Russians; I suspect they tended to name their discoveries after their countrymen. Every linked item is another world:

Taira no Kiyomori (平 清盛, 1118 – March 20, 1181) was a military leader and kugyō of the late Heian period of Japan. He established the first samurai-dominated administrative government in the history of Japan. Kiyomori was born in Heian-kyō, Japan, in 1118 as the first son of Taira no Tadamori, who was the head of the Taira clan. It has been speculated that Kiyomori was actually an illegitimate son of Emperor Shirakawa.[1] His mother, Gion no Nyogo, was a palace servant according to The Tale of the Heike.

And now an object with his name spins in space, far above Normal. That's the picture of the Japanese fellow above, and that is how we got from here to there. But there's more!

Can we find it? We can find it.

And this one?

I think so.

Our second look at Boonville. Better? Worse?

Battered, but we see the original look, albeit tarnished and careworn.

Hold on a second here -

The cornice tells us the building was truncated. How? Why?

I made this:

But you'd think the door would be closer to the right.

Obscured in other views:

A saloon, originally, according to local histories. You know, of course, that it replaced a building that burned down.

Another weary building, begging for a good sandblasting and tuck pointing.

Oh

Never mind

The need for a second-floor entrance does tend to mess with the symmetry.

BROKMEYER

Another Boonville building thus named, here. Mr. B must have done well.

"Antiques" now, but the sheet-metal facade indicates a prosperous store that did a post-war rehab.

No doubt a wonderful sign once covered that space.

The only question is what the bank was originally called.

City Halls often moved into old banks. Rather symbolic.

I don’t think they sell shoes anymore.

Glad the sign still exists, but at this point it’s more depressing than historic.

OUMB: a jumble of modern ideas, presaging the punchcode window style to come.

(Obligatory Ugly Modern Bank, if you’re just joining us.)

Pythian hearts must have swelled with pride!

The uppermost portion took a bit of a haircut. Or it's an addition?

One of of the sites about the Knights building said it had three fires, and the most recent took down some adjacent buildings. Well, I don’t see where that’s the case -

Oh

Murals. They just make you think that nothing’s really going on here.

IOOF!

If the three-link sign is up, perhaps they still meet once a month to exchange secret handshakes and plot good things.

That’s a nice piece of work - and quite unusual for the era.

1904, “Spanish Baroque” style.

Not too baroque.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that

Columns made of brick never look right.

That’s unfortunate.

It was originally a standard post-war building - you can tell it had broad big windows, later bricked in. Stupid Mansarding for extra ugliness.

A fine school.

I wonder how long it will take before this no longer says "school" to most people.

That day is probably upon us already.

That'll do! This year's Urban Studies updates continues, with Main Street postcards.