"Forget about it, Sanchez. The old man likes his cannolis."
This picture of a floor mural detail from 1934 looks similar to this picture I took last week. The shoes have changed but the murals haven't.
I read Nobrow by John Seabrook on my way back. The part of the book that stuck with me was his explorations of the way taste was used to preserve social classes after conspicuous economic displays became taboo. He tells a story from his college years where a fellow student says, "How dare you talk about taste when there are people in the world who don't have enough to eat." But it seems the lesson didn't sink in. Part of the book reads like elitist consumer brand-fetish porn, part like a love letter to Tina Brown, and much like a cry for help. I will say that it's peppered with insights that only a privileged brand junky can have...for whatever that's worth. I felt unclean after reading it, and probably wouldn't have finished it if I wasn't trapped with it on a train for two days. A good alternative to Nobrow is Coercion by Douglas Rushkoff.
I was due for another cat picture:
That's my cousin Taylor's hand and my aunt Julie in the background. This is one of their new kitties.
I took the train home. It was nice, but felt a little longer than the way out because I just wanted to be home. I read, listened, and watched. (I didn't take as many pictures this time, though.) I was completely disconnected for 48 hours.
My trip to the good life went well, but it's always nice to get home. The golden state is pretty much the same as I left it: rolling hills and rolling blackouts.
I spent the day with my folks wandering around Lincoln. We stopped by the capitol building, the state historical society museum, and the sheldon art gallery on the UNL campus. There are snapshots!
Speaking of military aircraft...
Mobile phones may foil stealth bombers: "It's remarkable that a stealth system that cost
U2 spy plane
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Today I went to the Strategic Air Command Museum in Ashland, Nebraska. I took a few pictures naturally. It's amazing that some of those huge planes could fly.
Craig already posted quite a few pictures of his new puppy Madison on his site, but I figure one more can't hurt.
She's going to be a big dog.
People wave at trains. No matter where the train was, if someone was in site they waved. The exception was Reno, Nevada, as the train passed casinos and hotels through downtown. And some rafters on the Colorado River dropped thier pants and showed their best side. Drivers in their cars at train crossings usually scowled. But people outside, railside workers, horse riders, lawn sitters, bike riders, roustabouts, baseball fans at the new Colorado Rockies park, hikers, readers; all waving.
When I was a kid I used to wave at planes when they passed overhead.