Amazon.com Widgets
zgf architects via seattle times
one of rob vasquez's many out-of-print 45s, via aarongilbreath.wordpress. com
(No snickering jokes from this corner about a certain three-digit number.)
An Eastside developer has bought the whole half block that contains Bauhaus Coffee, Spine and Crown Books, Wall of Sound Records, and five other merchants who help define the soul of the Pike/Pine Corridor.
All except the facades will be demolished, for yet another mixed-use behemoth.
The businesses themselves will be gone, either this June or next June (sources are contradictory about this).
And they probably can’t afford the new spaces when they finally open, at least a year and a half later.
artist's rendering; via kiro-tv
t.j. mullinax, yakima herald-republic
Today, go out and celebrate Pi Day (3/14). Tomorrow, learn about pies of the past.
I’m participating in a History Cafe session about old Seattle restaurant menus. It’s 7 p.m. Thursday at Roy Street Coffee (the off-brand Starbucks), Broadway and East Roy on cantilevered Capitol Hill. It’s sponsored by KCTS, HistoryLink.org, MOHAI, and the Seattle Public Library.
Try writing the same line of dialogue three different ways: 1) the quippy version, 2) the version that simply conveys the meaning of the line, and 3) the emotional subtext of the line. And then try to find the version that combines 2) and 3) as much as possible. You might find you end up with a line that’s more quotable than the witty version you originally had.
The parking garage on Second Avenue between Stewart and Virginia was completely demolished in two days.
In order to minimize traffic disruption, the whole job was scheduled for a single weekend. Even then, at least one lane of Second was open to traffic at all times.
Four jackhammer and shovel rigs converged on the site; first knocking down the front walls, then moving in for the rest.
By late Sunday afternoon, all that was left was rubble and some old painted signage revealed on the side of the building next door.
american institute of architects—seattle
As promised, here are the pix of my Sunday Amtrak-trek to the not so naughty border town of Bellingham.
The journey is beautiful. You should take it early and often. WiFi, a snack car, legroom, scenery galore, and all with no driving.
The trestle over Chuckanut Bay just might be one of the great rail experiences of this continent. It really looks like as if train is running straight across the water’s surface.
The Bellingham Amtrak/Greyhound station is just a brief stroll from Fairhaven, the famous town-within-a-town of stately old commercial buildings, and a few new buildings made to sort of look like the old ones.
My destination was in one of the pseudo-vintage buildings. It’s Village Books, a three-story repository of all things bookish.
Why I was there: to give a slide presentation about my book Walking Seattle.
Why people 80 miles away wanted to hear somebody talk about the street views down here? I did not ask. I simply gave ‘em what they wanted.
Some two dozen Bellinghamsters braved the sunbreaks punctuated with snow showers to attend.
Afterwards, some kind audience members showed me some of B’ham’s best walking routes. Among these is the Taylor Dock, a historic pedestrian trestle along the waterfront.
Yes, there had been an Occupy Bellingham protest. Some of the protesters made and donated this statue on a rock near Taylor Dock.
Apparently there had been windy weather the previous day.
After that I took a shuttle bus downtown, where I was promptly greeted by a feed and seed store with this lovely signage.
The Horseshoe Cafe comes as close as any place I’ve been to my platonic ideal of a restaurant. Good honest grub at honest prices. Great signage. Great well-kept original interior decor.
(Of course, I had to take advantage of sitting in a cafe in Bellingham to trot out the ol’ iPod and play the Young Fresh Fellows’ “Searchin’ USA.”)
Used the remaining daylight to wander the downtown of the ex-mill town. (Its local economy is now heavily reliant on Western Washington U., another victim of year after year of state higher-ed cuts.)
But I stopped at one place that was so perfect, inside and out. It proudly shouted its all-American American-ness.
Alas, 20th Century Bowling/Cafe/Pub will not last long into the 21st century.
My pals at HistoryLink.org have put together a weighty historical coffee table tome called The Future Remembered.
It’s all about the Century 21 Exposition, the Seattle world’s fair that began 50 years ago this April.
It’s 300 pages of insightful prose and luscious pictures concerning what is still probably the single most important event that ever happened here in Software City.
It’s proof of what a physical book can still be—an object of desire. (And a handy blunt instrument, should you need one.)
It gives you most of the individual subplots of the fair’s story, from the miraculously perfect design of the Space Needle to the erotic puppet show (by the future producers of Land of the Lost!).
These sub-stories are woven around a main narrative line, about a cabal of squarer-than-square civic boosters who pulled off a staggering feat of a spectacle, something that melded both high art and mass entertainment into one vision of a sleek modern tomorrow (that mostly still hasn’t shown up).
And it even turned a small profit, and left a 74-acre arts-and-recreation campus in the middle of town.
You should all look it up, check it out, even get one for your very own.
•
Indeed, there’s only only one small mini-gripe I’ve got with the document.
There’s a two page spread saluting “Women At Century 21.”
It honors Gracie Hansen (the brassy small-town hostess who ran one of the fair’s burlesque revues), Laurene Gandy (wife of fair exec Joe Gandy and a tireless worker for both the fair and the subsequent Seattle Center), and the other male execs’ wives (billed collectively as “Our Fair Ladies”).
But one prominent woman is not mentioned in the spread. Or in the entire book.
Dr. Dixy Lee Ray (1914-1994) was a marine biologist, a UW prof, and a science-ed host on KCTS.
Ray worked as a “science advisor” to the United States Science Pavilion at the fair. In this role, she was the pavilion’s chief spokesperson to the local media.
She then became the first head of the pavilion’s post-fair entity, the Pacific Science Center.
From there she became the highest ranking woman in Richard Nixon’s Executive Branch (running the Atomic Energy Commission).
From there she successfully ran for governor in 1976 as a “flag of convenience” Democrat.
Then she proceeded on an anti-environmentalist agenda, alienated just about the entire state Democratic Party, and lost her re-election bid in the 1980 primary.
Ray left behind a lot of political opponents.
And, admittedly, her later role with the Science Center held more authority than her role with the Science Pavilion.
But she should not be written out of the fair’s history.
joe mabel, via wikimedia commons
candy wrapper archive via aol/lemondrop.com