The family house on the Gulf Coast was not that far from a casino that sprung up, so for a while you could say, "Turn at the giant neon alligator sign."
And by giant, I mean like 40 feet tall.
Off-topic discussion. Wanna talk about corsets, duct tape, butt kicking, or physics? This is the place. Detailed discussion of any current-season TV must be whitefonted.
The family house on the Gulf Coast was not that far from a casino that sprung up, so for a while you could say, "Turn at the giant neon alligator sign."
And by giant, I mean like 40 feet tall.
I love these stories of local directions so much. Very little use and a pain to anyone who isn't local or into local history, granted, and at times complex people's lives way beyond necessary, but it is also a remarkable way to pass no-longer-meaningful-knowledge around, and a great (metaphorical) shibboleth.
The family house on the Gulf Coast was not that far from a casino that sprung up, so for a while you could say, "Turn at the giant neon alligator sign."
I used to work in a gov't department that was in a building with a maze-like layout. The receptionist would always give directions to the Minister's Office based on this one piece of artwork..."Veer left at the painting of two pigs and a donkey." We got a new minister, who made them change the artwork because she didn't like the Minister's Office being associated with pigs and donkeys.
I used to work at the building with a giant brass FAO Swarz bear on the corner. SIGH.
We got a new minister, who made them change the artwork because she didn't like the Minister's Office being associated with pigs and donkeys.
Ha! When I worked at WGBH, new staff were warned not to use pictures of Julia Child as landmarks, because there were a lot of them. (There were a lot of pictures in general.)
Thank you Aretha for many things, but changing the news cycle off of the usual is lovely.
One of hte primary landmarks in my rural community was a white barn. The first time I encountered it was when my mother turned onto a road next to a rickety old barn with no paint on it. "Was that the white bar?" "Yes." "It's not white." "It used to be." The last time I was there, I turned at the white barn, which had fallen down a couple of decades previously.
True, Laura. I am super sad about Aretha, but hearing remembrances about her and her music is way better than the usual news, for sure.
OH MY GOD I am literally sitting on a call with my boss, listening to silence while she dithers about what to do. Minutes and minutes of silence.
Thank you, Dana. Every day you remind me of the upside of working for myself!