Stopped by the courthouse, but the Monkey Trial Museum is closed. It pleased me to be viewing a scientific event like a total eclipse where the Scope’s Monkey Trial happened.
Beer in hand within moments of getting home. This is how voting feels these days.
Cemeteries are amazing storytellers. The small one in downtown Waverly is no exception. Cynthia and I wondered through it, taking a small break from the Fall Boogie, piecing together family histories. Marveling over the lives lived between the dates. Born 1790, to America at age 15, died seven years after the Civil War. One has to wonder what that was like. Moving to rural Alabama during the territory days. The birth of statehood. A country torn apart. How did James Washington Maybery view these happenings? What were those 82 years of life like?
And then, well, I’m a designer, so how about that beautiful typography. That reverse italic at the bottom. Damn.
A coworker stumbled across an article about subversive coloring books from the early 1960s. They are brilliant and incisive, cutting quiet life of desperation to the bone. For all those who want to “Make America Great Again,” thinking that means the 1950s… well, from the evidence, it wasn’t necessarily so great.
Sunday afternoon trip to Sloss Furnaces. The spiritual equivalent of church for me, central to my art and design practice for more than a decade. The place still puts me in a reverent mindset. The cathedral of industry that built Birmingham. Blood and sweat equity, certainly a sacrifice as great as anything laid on the altar of a church. One more worthy of consideration in my perspective. It pleases me that Birmingham has saved such a place, and allows it to stand as testament to all these things, to serve as inspiration for so many others. I only hope that those who enjoy the space, the events, might pause and give thought to what the place is on a deeper level.
The small urban void created between One North Twentieth and the railroad. It almost makes sense, this odd alignment, when you think about. The parking deck is level with the train tracks. In an ideal world where rail travel might have been used by the suburban residents of Birmingham to ride to work, disembarking at the gleaming and modern One North Twentieth building. A mid-century urban suburban ideal. Guess that didn’t quite pan out, did it.
Parking deck architecture. In a city where every event conversation starts with, “What about parking?” we have more of these structures than we can use. They sit, decaying, while people complain about parking meters prices going up. Where people will drive around the block multiple times looking for one of those “overpriced” parking meters, likely passing the entrance to an underused parking deck in the process. It’s baffling and frustrating. But at least these big, empty, hulking beasts, often decaying, make for interesting photographic fodder.
I get it, you want people to know your product is made in the USA. But, is that more important than say, the name of the manufacturer, which is nowhere present on “Generic Made in the USA Xerographic Copy Paper.” Or am I the only one baffled at such an oversight, if it’s an oversight at all? Was there a meeting around a boardroom table. “Well, no one knows our name, and all that cheap paper is getting brought in from foreign countries. I say we just label it Made in the USA as loud as possible. Court that patriotic consumer who doesn’t care about anything else.” I wonder. Maybe I’m just filtering everything through a jaded perspective thanks to our current political competition.
Posted without political comment. I enjoyed the composition of all of these elements, and find the political commentary juxtaposed with commercial sentiment amusing.
We noticed them as soon as they set up. A large pop-up tent, bright circus red stripes on white. They’d arrived shortly after we had. They were the only ones left when we decided it was time to pack up. Solid ten hours or more of tailgating and bowl game viewing.