This was last Wednesday. First time I've managed to get a good moon picture.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Hotel Congress
I haven't researched it much, but I do know this: John Dillinger (the piece of crap outlaw from the Great Depression--sorry I don't idolize bank robbers and murderers) was busted in Tucson, Arizona at the old Hotel Congress. While I was in Tucson this morning I made it a point to get downtown and get a couple of photos of the hotel. What a great opportunity! Dillinger was arrested there in 1934, and the hotel remains.
But almost nearly as intruiging (did I spell that right?) was the bus stop I spotted down the street. There was a couple of unhappy looking youth sitting there, and I let them know I was photographing them. They didn't care:
I also was fascinated with the way the City of Tucson decided to decorate this retaining wall. Normally cities go with some southwest type of abstract art but this wall has an old black and white photo of downtown Tucson from a loooooong time ago:
So as it stands right now, I don't hate Tucson so much anymore. It's got some great history (of which I'll write more about later) and the traffic is just something you can't complain about. Traffic's bad everywhere I suppose.
But almost nearly as intruiging (did I spell that right?) was the bus stop I spotted down the street. There was a couple of unhappy looking youth sitting there, and I let them know I was photographing them. They didn't care:
I also was fascinated with the way the City of Tucson decided to decorate this retaining wall. Normally cities go with some southwest type of abstract art but this wall has an old black and white photo of downtown Tucson from a loooooong time ago:
So as it stands right now, I don't hate Tucson so much anymore. It's got some great history (of which I'll write more about later) and the traffic is just something you can't complain about. Traffic's bad everywhere I suppose.
Tucson Aint So Bad
The first time I visited Tucson (I say visited but it's usually some sort of requirement for me to be there; convention or class or whatever) I hated it. I hated the traffic, the streets, the construction, the clouds, the mountains, the curbs, the hotels, you name it.
It's growing on me now.
It takes nearly 6 hours to drive there from home, and it's not a very interesting drive.
Well, there's Salome Road.
I've written about it before. It's a short cut that gets me from a very isolated rural highway to the Interstate. And it's open range, which means the cattle walk around wherever they want. And they do just that. But semi trucks know about this short cut, and they use it! The cows do not win this battle.
The shoulder of the road is littered with cow carcasses, and the roadway itself is painted with the words: Watch For Cows.
Driving this road at night is quite a thrill, in my tiny car, because I have no cell phone signal, and my car is actually smaller and lighter than a cow. So I would lose in this particular case. But I don't care to go the 55 mph speed limit and I don't have very good headlights. Not on the car, anyway.
I drive the entire length of this road with my eyes peeled and both hands gripping the steering wheel. There is no changing of the radio station, there is no reaching for a drink or anything else in the car, just concentration on the very dangerous road ahead. I have had cows jump out and run right out in front of me on Salome Road, but it's always during the day. I think they're crazy.
On this trip, only a few coyotes and deer ran out from the darkness in front of me. There were some shooting stars, which were amazing. They floated down slowly over the roadway right in front of me. Oh, but there was a fresh bull carcass laying over to the side.
It's growing on me now.
It takes nearly 6 hours to drive there from home, and it's not a very interesting drive.
Well, there's Salome Road.
I've written about it before. It's a short cut that gets me from a very isolated rural highway to the Interstate. And it's open range, which means the cattle walk around wherever they want. And they do just that. But semi trucks know about this short cut, and they use it! The cows do not win this battle.
The shoulder of the road is littered with cow carcasses, and the roadway itself is painted with the words: Watch For Cows.
Driving this road at night is quite a thrill, in my tiny car, because I have no cell phone signal, and my car is actually smaller and lighter than a cow. So I would lose in this particular case. But I don't care to go the 55 mph speed limit and I don't have very good headlights. Not on the car, anyway.
I drive the entire length of this road with my eyes peeled and both hands gripping the steering wheel. There is no changing of the radio station, there is no reaching for a drink or anything else in the car, just concentration on the very dangerous road ahead. I have had cows jump out and run right out in front of me on Salome Road, but it's always during the day. I think they're crazy.
On this trip, only a few coyotes and deer ran out from the darkness in front of me. There were some shooting stars, which were amazing. They floated down slowly over the roadway right in front of me. Oh, but there was a fresh bull carcass laying over to the side.
The Other OTHER Shawna
Once in a while I meet a Shawna. It's the most bizarre thing in the world, and I'm usually so shocked I don't remember to ask the really important question, "How do YOU spell it?"
Today I went to get my gnarly, ugly fingers fixed up at the nail salon. Who else was there? Another Shawna. Craziness.
I wasn't on top of my game at the moment, so of course I did not ask her how she spells it. But I did have the state of mind to grab the camera and get a photo with her. It's not a coincidence that we got our nails the same sparkly ruby red color:
She was sweet and friendly, and her hair in the sunlight was a golden auburn. I think I love her.
Today I went to get my gnarly, ugly fingers fixed up at the nail salon. Who else was there? Another Shawna. Craziness.
I wasn't on top of my game at the moment, so of course I did not ask her how she spells it. But I did have the state of mind to grab the camera and get a photo with her. It's not a coincidence that we got our nails the same sparkly ruby red color:
She was sweet and friendly, and her hair in the sunlight was a golden auburn. I think I love her.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Route 66 Kicks
Remember that Pixar movie called "Cars?" Of course you do. Those cartoon cars were plastered on everything from lunch boxes to bedroom furnishings, pencils to bath soaps, etc, etc.
It was a story about a small town that was a bit of an attraction in the good ol' days. (translation: before Obama. Just kidding, couldn't resist.) Back in Route 66's heyday, little towns sprouted up here and there, with diners, malt shops, souvenir shops, repair shops, attractions, and themed motels. It was well traveled even after the huge migration of the Great Depression, in part because the Nelson Rockefeller family explored little-known museums and granted money for the Southwestern and Indian artifacts to be put on display for families everywhere to view. There was a whole cultural awakening and Americans were encouraged to travel into the Wild West to see the oddities and curiosities it had to offer.
Route 66 was called the Mother Road, because it was the only highway that went continuously across the U.S. for many states. Route 66 communities also had the Union Pacific Railway passing through or at least nearby. Those trains brought vacationers and travelers. I believe it was in the 1960's the railroad rerouted its tracks in several places, and then after the Interstate Highway was built, all of those tiny communities were bypassed. Not by a few hundred yards, but by many miles. Eventually, Route 66 was obliterated. It originally ran from Chicago to Southern California, but only small stretches of it exist now. By small stretches I mean one mile or so. Except in one place, and that's in Arizona. It starts in Kingman (one hour from here) and goes for many miles to a place called Seligman.
We have made that drive several times, and this past Friday we made the trek in Steve's semi truck.
So....back to the "Cars" movie. I remember watching it and seeing a map of where this supposed fictitious town was located. It was right along Route 66 where Seligman is. And just like the town in the movie, you can stand at a high point of the town and see Interstate 40 off in the distance. And you can see all the potential visitors and tourists just speeding on by.
What's Seligman look like?
Well....this:
There's a burger joint that's got some rather unique decor, inside and out. They have some vehicles parked out back that have eyeballs painted on them so they look like, uh, "Cars."
They have a strange policy of customer service where they kind of pick on the customers, giving everyone a sarcastic nick name. It's an attraction, though, and the owner of the place was given an award by our governor a few years ago for keeping the Route 66 beat alive. But the sad truth is, Seligman is a ghost town for about 360 days a year. Some car clubs organize cruises to this little town, but other than that it is always deserted when we pass through. Dang you, progress!!!
It was a story about a small town that was a bit of an attraction in the good ol' days. (translation: before Obama. Just kidding, couldn't resist.) Back in Route 66's heyday, little towns sprouted up here and there, with diners, malt shops, souvenir shops, repair shops, attractions, and themed motels. It was well traveled even after the huge migration of the Great Depression, in part because the Nelson Rockefeller family explored little-known museums and granted money for the Southwestern and Indian artifacts to be put on display for families everywhere to view. There was a whole cultural awakening and Americans were encouraged to travel into the Wild West to see the oddities and curiosities it had to offer.
Route 66 was called the Mother Road, because it was the only highway that went continuously across the U.S. for many states. Route 66 communities also had the Union Pacific Railway passing through or at least nearby. Those trains brought vacationers and travelers. I believe it was in the 1960's the railroad rerouted its tracks in several places, and then after the Interstate Highway was built, all of those tiny communities were bypassed. Not by a few hundred yards, but by many miles. Eventually, Route 66 was obliterated. It originally ran from Chicago to Southern California, but only small stretches of it exist now. By small stretches I mean one mile or so. Except in one place, and that's in Arizona. It starts in Kingman (one hour from here) and goes for many miles to a place called Seligman.
We have made that drive several times, and this past Friday we made the trek in Steve's semi truck.
So....back to the "Cars" movie. I remember watching it and seeing a map of where this supposed fictitious town was located. It was right along Route 66 where Seligman is. And just like the town in the movie, you can stand at a high point of the town and see Interstate 40 off in the distance. And you can see all the potential visitors and tourists just speeding on by.
What's Seligman look like?
Well....this:
There's a burger joint that's got some rather unique decor, inside and out. They have some vehicles parked out back that have eyeballs painted on them so they look like, uh, "Cars."
They have a strange policy of customer service where they kind of pick on the customers, giving everyone a sarcastic nick name. It's an attraction, though, and the owner of the place was given an award by our governor a few years ago for keeping the Route 66 beat alive. But the sad truth is, Seligman is a ghost town for about 360 days a year. Some car clubs organize cruises to this little town, but other than that it is always deserted when we pass through. Dang you, progress!!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)