Dump
You have probably heard Donald Trump quoted as saying the White House is a dump. The quote was in a Sports Illustrated article, First Golfer: Donald Trump’s relationship with golf has never been more complicated. This comment is one of many unflattering comments about DJT in the article. Once the dump comment got publicity, it was *officially* denied. @realDonaldTrump I love the White House, one of the most beautiful buildings (homes) I have ever seen. But Fake News said I called it a dump – TOTALLY UNTRUE
Facebook jumped into the matter with a tasteful meme. The top part is the TrumpDump comment. The bottom part is a picture of BHO, with a quote: “In the evening, when Michelle and the girls have gone to bed, I sometimes walk down the hall to a room Abraham Lincoln used as his office. It contains an original copy of the Gettysburg Address, written in Lincoln’s own hand. …”
Most BHO quotes are legitimate. He is still a celebrity, and a record of his every word exists. It is not like historic quote magnets like Marilyn Monroe and Mark Twain. When you see a beautifully illustrated quote, with a famous dead person at the bottom, the odds are very good that the famous dead person did not say it.
This does not stop a skeptic like PG. Once you get started investigating, there is no telling what you are going to find. The BHO quote is documented by Huffington Post, Obama Pens Letter Commemorating Gettysburg Address On 150th Anniversary Of Remarks. The Lincoln bedroom at the White House does have one of the Copies of the Gettysburg Address.
The comments by BHO were originally posted at WhiteHouse.gov. When you follow the HuffPo link, you see this: “Thank you for your interest in this subject. Stay tuned as we continue to update whitehouse.gov.” The letter from BHO is no longer on WhiteHouse.gov. A cached copy is available.
Pictures are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
Ugly Legal Battle
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Monroe Drive Or Boulevard
It is an Atlanta cliche. Boulevard turns into Monroe Drive because one was black, and the other white. The white people did not want to live on a street with the same name as the black neighborhood. You hear this all the time, with very little explanation. It is plausible. At one time, Ponce de Leon Avenue was a dividing line between the white, and black, neighborhoods. There are, however, a few questions about this name change business. This is a repost.
In the space between I-85 and Dekalb County, there are four streets that change names when they cross Ponce De Leon Avenue. These are Juniper/Courtland, Charles Allen/Parkway, Monroe/Boulevard, and Briarcliff/Moreland. Several streets cross Ponce without changing names, including Spring Street, Peachtree Street, Piedmont Avenue, and North Highland Avenue.
Four thoroughfares are affected by the Ponce rebranding. Juniper/Courtland is mostly commercial, at least south of Ponce. Briarcliff/Moreland is mostly white until you get to the railroad tracks south of Little Five Points. When Moreland Avenue goes under the MARTA line, the neighborhood is Reynoldstown….which was not named for Burt Reynolds.
Charles Allen/Parkway does change from white to black at Ponce. The street name then changes to Jackson Street, the original name, at Highland Avenue. Monroe/Boulevard also goes from white to black at Ponce. However, when you cross the railroad tracks, Boulevard goes through Cabbagetown, a white neighborhood. Boulevard residents change color several times before the road dead ends at the Federal Prison. Oakland Cemetery, and Zoo Atlanta, do not play a role in this drama.
If this litany of street names is boring, it is all right to skip over the text. The pictures today are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
Roads change names all over the metro area, for a variety of reasons. In the area between Ponce De Leon Avenue and I 20, there are roads that change at railroad tracks (North Highland/Highland, Krog/Estoria.) Others change at Highland Avenue (Parkway/Jackson, Glen Iris/Randolph) or Decatur Street (Hilliard/Grant, Bell/Hill.) Some of these changes are racially motivated, while others are not. Some make sense, while most do not.
No one seems to know when this Monroe/Boulevard thing happened. An 1892 “Bird’s eye view” shows Boulevard sailing off into the horizon, past a racetrack in today’s Piedmont Park. A 1911 map shows Boulevard starting near “L.P. Grant Park,” and sailing past Ponce up to Piedmont Park. A 1940 map shows Boulevard going past Park Drive, only to turn into Monroe Drive at Montgomery Ferry Road. Finally, a 1969 map of “Negro Residential Areas” shows Monroe Drive changing into Boulevard at Ponce De Leon Avenue, like it is today. Boulevard is a stand alone street name at all times.
If anyone knows about this name change business, please leave a comment. It would be interesting to know when these changes were made, and what government agency made them. Google has not been helpful, except for pointing the way to several map collections.
Audio Distraction
@AmadeusAlmighty “Deuteronomy 22:28-29 Leviticus 25:44-46 2 Kings 2:23-25 Genesis 7. Try reading the WHOLE bible before proselytizing about it.” Most arguments about the bible are boring. This one was distinguished by an alliterative twitter handle. PG found himself going down the rabbit hole, and looking up the four passages listed.
Genesis 7 is the story of Noah’s Ark. The thought of what that boat smelled like is enough to make a non-believer gasp for breath. The other three are typical of what might be called the perverted word of g-d, or PWOG. While they don’t have much uplifting value, they can be combined into a poem. A little editing, a few visits to rhyme zone, sacrifice a few brain cells, and, voila, you have a poem.
The poem will be set in 35 point comic sans. The innards will be 0-96-0 green, while the outer layer is 192-192-192 gray. The background pictures will be crowd shots from the Inman Park Festival, taken April 29, 2017. PG was beginning to think those pictures were useless. …
The Mozart of Mathematics is the first background audio distraction for this poem. It is the story of Paul Erdős. He was a Hungarian math genius, who wandered the world solving problems. After a visit to Notre Dame University, he noted the number of plus signs on the campus.
George HW Bush narrowly escaped comrades’ fate of being killed and eaten by Japanese captors. After the story of Paul Erdős, Futility Closet had another story. It seems that Mr. Bush was shot down in the Pacific, and rescued by Americans. Several others on his mission were captured.
“The next day a Japanese officer, Major Sueo Matoba, decided to include American flesh in a sake-fuelled feast he laid on for officers including the commander-in-chief on the island, Gen Yoshio Tachibana. Both men were later tried and executed for war crimes. A Japanese medical orderly who helped the surgeon prepare the ingredients said: “Dr Teraki cut open the chest and took out the liver. I removed a piece of flesh from the flyer’s thigh, weighing about six pounds and measuring four inches wide, about a foot long.
Another crewman, Floyd Hall, met a similar fate. Adml Kinizo Mori, the senior naval officer on Chichi Jima, told the court that Major Matoba brought “a delicacy” to a party at his quarters – a specially prepared dish of Floyd Hall’s liver. “I had it pierced with bamboo sticks and cooked with soy sauce.” They ate it in “very small pieces”, believing it “good medicine for the stomach.”…
David Remnick was the guest on WTF this week. It was a good chat. By turns it was funny, nostalgic, insightful, and full of terror for the America of Donald Trump. Impeachment will not be an easy fix. The Democrats have nobody to replace him. While many people knew about the crookedness, and cheapskate vulgarity, of DJT, the Democrats chose to scream racism. This just might have alienated the 70k voters in PAMIWI that tipped the electoral college. …
Here is the poem, Man Finds A Damsel. The first few words are a handy default title.
man finds a damsel that is a virgin, lie with her they be found upriver
man that lay with her excursion, give her father fifty shekels of silver
she shall be his wife he hath humble fat, thy bondmen thy bondmaids thy children
shall ye buy their families they begat, shall be your possession you gentlemen
ye shall take them as an inheritance, shall not rule over another with sword
mocked go up thou bald head arrogance, he cursed them in the name of the lord …
The Glenn Show was the next audio distraction. This is a Bloggingheads.tv show, featuring @JohnHMcWhorter and @GlennLoury. This show got bogged down in the ongoing debate about race and IQ testing … a subject that bores PG. It wasn’t until 49 minutes had passed before PG felt the need to make a selection. (BHTV has recently gone to a youtube viewer, and has a different method for making clips. The clips are, thankfully, no longer called dingle links.)
At 49:25, Dr. McWhorter said, referring to the election of DJT, “to an extent, it happened because people are tired of being called racist.” This is common sense to PG, and yet, almost nobody is saying this out loud. The Demoze/SJW attitude is one of self righteousness at screaming racist. To many, racism is a metaphysical evil, and when DJT was labelled racist, it was the moral duty of the electorate to vote for Hitlery. There was a twitter comment to this effect: @chamblee54 *racism shaming* is a terrible campaign tactic It is good to hear @JohnHMcWhorter (say) what i have thought.
Dr. Loury proceeded to state that throwing an elected president out, because we think he is an icky person, is a bad idea. The system was created to elect someone, and allow them to serve. Dr. McWhorter disagrees, and thinks that DJT is sooo icky that extraordinary measures are called for. Someone gave a performance of Godwin’s law. He said that the situation in Washington is not as bad as what the German Generals faced when they decided to off Hitler. Dr. Loury talked about the movie “Triumph of the Will,” and make the remarkable admission that he did not know that Leni Riefenstahl was a woman. One more tweet was required, this one including a colorized screen shot of the players. @chamblee54 @JohnHMcWhorter @GlennLoury this reminds me of outrage over jury decisions when justice is not a popularity contest here it is election. …
@HypertrophicLit Dear submitters, Please don’t address subs “Dear sir.” It’s not hard to find out that both our editors who read subs are women. Thank you. H ~ @chamblee54 A gender neutral replacement for sir and ma’am is needed.
When PG was writing this reply, he realized that he did not know how to spell ma’am, despite having said it thousands of times. Google contributes this: “Ma’am is another written form for Madam, which is used to politely or respectfully address a woman. This form of the word can be seen in classical literature including Charles Dickens’ books. Mam is a totally distorted and incorrect form for this word used especially within Indian subcontinent.”
What is the difference between calling someone “Mam” and “Ma’am”? There is a forum topic about the mam/ma’am debate. The bottom line seems to be that it is an informal expression, and that both spellings are correct. PG senses that ma’am looks more correct, and that this is the better written version of this oral expression. …
Pictures are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
What Percent Hoe Are You?
What percent hoe are you was a facebook *top story* one morning. When you click on the link, you are invited to sign in with your Zuckerworld account. PG, who identifies as a shovel, doesn’t want to feed the algorythym. The hoe quiz looked like fun, so a google excursion was made.
Report inappropriate predictions was an option. “Which predictions were inappropriate? what type of hoe are you quiz, are you a hoe quiz buzzfeed, what percent hoe are you playbuzz, what percentage hoe are you quiz. The predictions selected above are: Hateful, Sexually explicit, Violent, Dangerous and harmful activity, Other. Go to the Legal Help page to request content changes for legal reasons.”
Babe.net has the *top* result. “We live in a hoe-centric world. Everything is about hoe schemes, hoe tactics, hoe glow-ups. But are you truly one of us or merely a vanilla imposter looking to bust in on our fake tan-covered world?” There are a handful of questions, like choosing a spiritual leader from Beyoncé, Nicki Minaj, or Rhianna. “You’re Only 30% Hoe, Step Up Your Game … You’re just a Baby Hoe, but I love you anyway.”
Gotoquiz has twelve multiple choice questions. Some of them are kind of fuzzy. “9. have you had sex more than 5″ Is this more than 5”, 5 o’clock shadow, or 5 on a scale of 10. “89% biggest hoe – you are a huge hoe you sound like you give head for free. you are going to be a nasty skank that sits on a corner 24/7 you need to leave you legs close i can smell you through the computer”
Quibblo starts off “do you think that your a hoe is so take this test to find out.” They have 6 multiple choice questions, with no pictures. Again, the questions can be confusing: “4 do you prefer condoms or no condoms? yes, no, both.” Before you get the results, a popup ad appears. Donald Trump is listening to someone. “Comey, Russia, Health Care … What Trump Voters Think Now.”
Quizbone “This quiz will tell you if you are a hoe and how much. Now its not accurate but it is based on what your answers are so GOOD LUCKK.!” “17% you actually aren’t a hoe in a way you just are a looker not a toucher most likely you dress stylish …”
Buzzfeed is towards the bottom of the page. They change the tune a bit … “How Sexist Are You Actually? Find out your score and put it on your Tinder profile!” “You Got: 50% sexist!Yiiiikes OK! This is a thing you can work on – it’s not too late for you to become less of a sexist. Come join us in 2017, because the only good thing about the 1950s was the hair.”
Testony is the quiz mentioned on facebook. Onehallyu says “Please log in to reply” Proprofs asks multiple choice questions, but does not allow you to answer them. Allthetests is rock bottom on page one. “Purity tests -» Am I a slut?” It is not apparent where the questions are, so this post is over. Pictures today are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
Photos Suicide Friendship
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When I got home, and the back ache degenerated into sciatica, I regretted my decision to go. ~ I used to have a piece of cloth by my bed. When I would jack off, I would use the rag for the deposit. One day, I noticed the rag was covered with ants. Apparently, ants like dry semen. ~ Oh wow. Thankfully that hasn’t happened to me ~ decorative photgraphs for this fine collection of internet artistry are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”. ~ selah
688
There was a comment at Chamblee54. “Steve Loehrer – So tell me what you know about Rose’s Cantina. I booked the music there from 1978-80 – Thorogood, Delbert, The Thunderbirds, The Fans, The Razor Boys and on and on. I was the one that did it. And I probably know you.” This blog has previously published features about the Great Southeast Music Hall, Richards, and the Georgian Terrace Ballroom. One more music venue post is not going to hurt anyone, and will be a good excuse to post some more pictures, from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”. This is a repost.
688 Spring Street is a nondescript building, located down the hill from the Varsity. At one time, a company called Southern Tailors made wine jackets there. It is currently a Concentra Urgent Care Center. In between, it was the site of two rock and roll nightclubs, Roses Cantina and 688. One block over, at 688 West Peachtree, is a Catholic Construction management office.
House manager Rose Lynn Scott is quoted as saying “You know, we really aren’t sure exactly when it all started and ended,” Scott said. “Honest to God, we weren’t paying that close attention.”PG first knew about it around 1977, and really didn’t go very often. There is a running list for this post, and whenever a new band sinks into the mush, it is duly noted. Some band did “Love Gun,” which sounds remarkably similar to “Amphetamine Annie” by Canned Heat.
The punk rock revolution did not completely pass Atlanta by. A band called the Fans said they were making the pop music of the eighties. PG saw them twice and Roses, and they might be the only time he ever paid to get in. They were an impressive outfit, doing Velvet Underground and Telstar. Later, they opened for Talking Heads at the Agora, and were pretty awful. Much, much later, PG shared an apartment with the brother, of the drummer, for the Fans. Also living there was the brothers wife, a cable guy, seven snakes, a ferret, and a cat.
Back to the words of Rose Lynn, “It was a dive bar supreme and proud of it.” The stage was in the middle of the house, with a game room behind the stage. If you liked to shoot pool and listen to bands, this was the place. As for drinking, PG might get a beer or two, but mostly got bombed at other spots.
In those days, PG would go rambling from club to club, often accompanied by his friend Dinkson. One night, they stumbled in on a three piece band. They did a song called “Madison Blues”, with the guitar playing slinging riffs, and the bass playing playing the same notes over and over, never changing the look on his face. This was George Thorogood and the Destroyers.
One other night, PG stumbled in on the last few minutes of a show by the Brains. They wrote a song called “Money Changes Everything” that Cyndi Lauper did well with. This is another great local band that never seemed to get a national audience. Another night, some old black man, possibly John Lee Hooker, was playing guitar.
Around about this time, PG decided to either grow up, or take his childhood seriously. He wound up in Seattle WA. That wore off after a while. On the greyhound bus going home, PG talked to a young lady, who said something about a punk rock club in the Roses Cantina space. This was the 688.
A few weeks later, Iggy Pop did a week at 688. Here, through the miracle of copy paste, is the story. It isn’t plagiarism when you wrote it yourself.
At any rate, by the time PG got back from Seattle, some brave investors decided to have a punk rock club at 688 Spring Street. Soon, Iggy Pop would be playing a week there. In the seventies, the bands would play for five days at the great southeast music hall or the electric ballroom, two shows a night, and if you were really cool you would go on a weeknight before it got too crowded. Soon after that, it was one night in town only, and you either saw it or you didn’t.
PG had a friend at the Martinique apartments on Buford Hiway. There was someone living in the complex known as ZenDen, who sold acid. You would go to his place, wade through the living room full of grown men listening to Suzi Quatro, and purchase the commodity.
On to the the 23 Oglethorpe bus, and downtown to 688 Spring Street. Before anyone knew it, the band was on the stage. A veteran of the Patti Smith Group, named Ivan Kral, was playing bass. Mr. Kral sneezed, and a huge cocaine booger fell across his face. He was not playing when the show ended.
There was a white wall next to the stage, and someone wrote the song list on that wall. That list of songs stayed on the wall as long as 688 was open. “I want to be your dog” was on the list, as well as the number where Iggy pulled his pants off and performed in his underwear. Supposedly, in New York the drawers came off, but the TMI police were off duty that night.
The show was loud and long, and had the feel of an endurance event…either you go or the band does. Finally, the show was over, and PG got on the 23 Oglethorpe bus. You got the northbound bus on West Peachtree Street. You could look down, from Fourth street, and see the Coca Cola sign downtown. Freeway expansion sent that section of West Peachtree to old road hell.
Twenty years after that, PG worked in a building at that corner of Fourth and West Peachtree. If he had known about the future of working for Redo Blue, PG might have jumped under the 23 Oglethorpe bus, instead of getting on it. The Coca Cola sign was long gone by then.
There was band called Human Sexual Response in those days. PG caught their act at 688. They had three vocalists, wearing matching outfits, and sang a lot of lyric happy songs with really cool harmonies. The problem was, PG was not familiar with those oh so witty lyrics, and did not know what it was all about. At least he got out of the house.
Kevin Dunn played guitar for the Fans. (He had an ad for guitar lessons on the bulletin board at Wax and Facts. It said that raising racing turtles was more profitable than playing guitar.) One night at 688, he performed with his band The regiment of women. They opened for someone, possibly the Plastics, who we will get to in a minute. So, this guy plays guitar and sings, and a woman plays a drum machine. No skin pounding drummer, but a lady who twisted the knobs on a machine.
The Plastics were from Japan, and did a killer version of “Last Train to Clarksville”. It was about this time that PG got a job, and decided that he liked sleeping better than hanging out downtown.
One night, about 1983 or so, PG made an exception. The band that night was Modern English. Before the show, PG ate three z burgers from the Zestos on Ponce de Leon. During the show, the singer rubbed his stomach, and said to feel the music. About this time, the z burgers were making their presence known, and PG could feel something, but it wasn’t the music.
The last show PG saw at 688 was Hüsker Dü. The best guess is February 14, 1986. There was a totem pole, made of old TV sets, in the front part of the club in 1986. Here is the story.
Hüsker Dü means “do you remember” in Danish and Norwegian. PG saw them sometime in the eighties. It might have been the metroplex, but it might have been the 688. There is a list of shows they played, and the metroplex is not on there.
PG saw a show at the Metroplex the next night. The band is forgotten. The metroplex was a dark spooky building on Marietta street near the omni. The balcony was very dark, with everything painted black. PG tripped over a bench.
688 was a different story. PG saw a bunch of shows there, both as 688 and Rose’s Cantina. HD may have been the last show PG saw before they closed. PG was well into the work/sleep lifestyle that preoccupied his life after a certain point, and just didn’t make it out much anymore. A friend won tickets to the show or he wouldn’t have made it.
PG didn’t get into the show very much. HD was a trio, with the later-outed Bob Mould as the guitar g-d. For all of his musical skills, Mould is not much for onstage charisma. PG felt that if he had been more familiar with their music, he would have enjoyed it more. Some bands you can see without hearing their records and get into it right away, where others need a bit of familiarity.
July 3, 1981
July 3, 1981, was another day before a holiday. The new President, Ronald Reagan, was recovering from gunshot wounds. There was talk of an era of conservatism, with possibly severe repression.
There was an article in the New York Times. RARE CANCER SEEN IN 41 HOMOSEXUALS. “Doctors in New York and California have diagnosed among homosexual men 41 cases of a rare and often rapidly fatal form of cancer. Eight of the victims died less than 24 months after the diagnosis…”
This was the media debut of AIDS. It would not have that name for a while. Almost nobody thought, on that summer day, just how bad AIDS would be. In five years it was obvious how serious AIDS was.
PG was on another trip to the west coast. It was becoming obvious that this would be a vacation, rather than a relocation. He was riding a bicycle, with a milk carton overloaded with camping gear. Some kids told him to get saddle bags, and carry the weight lower. If you have the weight on top, you would lose control coming down a big hill. PG did not listen to the kids.
On July 4, PG left Patrick’s Point state park, about 300 miles north of San Francisco. Coming down the first hill on highway 101, the bike shook, shook harder, and flipped on its side. PG was thrown off. The front wheel was bent beyond repair. PG gathered his gear, left the bike behind, and got a ride into the nearest town.
PG got a bus ticket to Seattle. That city was in an economic downturn, with less than half a page of help wanted ads. PG found a auto delivery service, and got a VW bug going to Oak Ridge, TN. In a few days he was in Atlanta. A few days later, a temp agency came up with a job as a driver for a blueprint company. PG worked for that company, in one form or another, for the next 24 years.
As for the gay men with Kaposi’s Sarcoma … in all probability, the patients mentioned in that article were all dead within a year. AIDS has become a dominating story in our time. At its worst, it was claiming 50,000 lives a year. With the advent of wonder drugs, the death toll has been greatly reduced. The impact of AIDS on American life cannot be adequately described. This is a repost.
Pictures today are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
The Kinks
Dangerousminds brings the sad news that Pete Quaife, the original bass player for The Kinks , passed away yesterday. He was 66, and had been in dialysis for several years. Maybe it is time for Chamblee54 to do a post about The Kinks. This is a repost.
Battling brothers Ray and Dave Davies are the core of The Kinks. (The name is pronounced like the american Davis, as though the e did not exist). Ray was the vocalist, writer, and rhythm guitar player. Dave was the lead guitarist, and sparring partner for his brother. The fisticuffs were not restricted to the brothers. This led to the band being barred from performing in the United States between 1965 and 1969. The sixties happened anyway.
There were several hits in the early days, most notably “You really got me”. (This later became a signature tune for Van Halen). The band had numerous adventures, but never became the superstars that other British bands of that era did. Ray Davies developed as a songwriter, with many witty tunes, full of social commentary and britishness.(spell check suggestion:brutishness)
In the seventies The Kinks kept trooping on. They did an album called Preservation Act, which became the basis of a theatrical presentation. The next album was called Soap Opera, with a theater like production. This is where PG got to see The Kinks.
It was sometime in the spring of 1975, at the Atlanta Municipal Auditorium. Elvin Bishop was the opening act. The Kinks had started when PG arrived, buying a $4.00 balcony seat. Alex Cooley was in the box office counting money, and broke open a roll of quarters to make change for a five.
The band was playing “Celluloid Heroes” when PG walked into the auditorium. There was no one on the door checking tickets, so PG walked onto the floor and found an empty seat on the 13th row. The next number was “Lola”.
Ray Davies introduced the song by saying ” If you are a man, sing LO. If you are a woman, sing LA. If you are not sure, clap your hands”. The next number was about demon alcohol. There were lights shining on the crowd during this number, as Ray Davies asked if there were any sinners in the audience. The band did several more songs, ending the first half of the evening with “You really got me”. Dave Davies got some spotlight time with a rave up intro to this number.
The second part of the show was a theatrical presentation of “Soap Opera”. The band wore rainbow colored wigs, and stood at the back of the stage while Ray Davies told the tale. “Soap Opera” was about a rock star who traded places with Norman, who lived a boring life. The flat Norman lived in has pictures of ducks on the wall, which drove Ray/Norman to scream “I can’t stand those f*****g ducks”. This led into a rocking ditty called, predictably, “Ducks on the Wall”.
As the show dragged on, Ray/Norman was embarrassed by the mess he was in. “You can’t say that in front of The Kinks, they are my band, and that is my audience.” The audience lights were turned on again, and the band played a medley of hits from 1964.
Finally, the real Norman came back to reclaim his wife, put the ducks back on the wall, and kick out The Kinks. The band gave up on theater before much longer, and were popular for the rest of the concert happy seventies. Ray Davies was the babydaddy for Chrissie Hynde . Eventually, the band quit performing, and continued to cash royalty checks.
Pictures are from the “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
Midtown
The neighborhood along Peachtree Road has always been a great place to be a freak. For a long time it didn’t have a name. It is north of downtown, between Piedmont Park and Georgia Tech. Sometime in the early eighties, people started to call it Midtown, and the name stuck.
In the time after the War Between the States, this area was a shantytown called “Tight Squeeze”. It evolved into a pleasant middle class area. In the sixties, hippies took over. The area was known as the strip, or tight squeeze. Many stories could be told.
After the flower children moved on, the area went into decline. Gays started to move in, with the battle cry “Give us our rights or we will remodel your house.” Developers, worshiping the triune G-d of location, location, location, began to smell money. The neighborhood became trendy, then expensive, then more expensive. The freaks with money remain. This is a repost. Pictures are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
There is a nifty webcam up now. It shows the progress of a high rise going up now at 12th and Peachtree in midtown. The location of the camera itself is not certain, with the speculation centering on 999 Peachtree, two blocks south on Tenth Street.
A glance at the image reveals a curve in the road, between the two glass boxes under construction. Atlanta does not have wide, straight boulevards extending to the horizon. It is said that Atlanta did not build roads, but paved the cow paths.
People of a certain age will remember this area as the strip. The tenth street district was a neighborhood shopping area, up until the mid sixties. At some point, the old businesses started to move out and the hippies moved in. For a while, it was a festive party. Soon enough reality returned, and the area went into a crime filled decline.
The 999 complex is the neighborhood story in a nutshell. Before 1985, it was a block of small businesses. There was a hardware store, with the peace symbol set in tiles in the sidewalk. On Juniper Street stood the Langdon Court Apartments. They were named for PG’s great uncle Langdon Quin. Ru Paul used to stay there. He would sit out on a balcony, and wave to the traffic going by.
Across the street was a chinese restaurant, the House of Eng. A staircase on the side led to the Suzy Wong Lounge. Behind the building was an apartment building. It was one of the residences of Margaret Mitchell, while she wrote “Gone With The Wind”. She called it “the dump”, which was fairly accurate. The museum on that site would have amazed her.
PG went to the House of Eng for lunch one day in 1985. He noticed that he was the only customer in the house, at 12:30 pm on a weekday. After finishing his lunch, PG knew why.
At some point, it was decided to build a high rise there. Heery was one of the equity partners, along with a law firm and an ad agency. The building was designed by Heery (duh).The ad agency folded before the building opened, followed within a couple of years by the law firm. Heery was sold to a British company. PG does not know who owns 999 Peachtree now.
This is a repost, with pictures from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”. The building, at 12th and Peachtree, is finished.
The Wisdom Of William S. Burroughs
The word advice, for all the condescencion implied, does have a neat composition. Ad is short for advertisement, and vice is a forbidden pleasure. Unless you are talking about Vice President, who should be forbidden.forgotten, and fornicated, with his wife in the room. For some unknown reason, the subject of discourse today is advice from William Seward Burroughs. No, the TV station on Peachtree Street was not named for him.
Before we reprint this tasteful consultation, (Chamblee54 did not write the advice) we should ponder the concept of William S. Burroughs, and wonder why anyone would ask this man for advice.
Mr. Burroughs is the namesake grandson of the man who invented the adding machine. He left his heirs a bunch of money. The young Burroughs wound up in New York, and became friends with Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg.
Mr. Burroughs was married twice (to women). The first was a platonic relationship with Ilse von Klapper, a Jew who wanted to get out of Europe. In 1936, this counted as a good deed.
The second wife, Joan Vollmer, helped make his life interesting. She is the mother of William S. Burroughs III, and was fond of speed. Mr. and Mrs. Burroughs were living in Mexico in 1951, when they decided to play William Tell. Mr. Burroughs missed the apple, and Mrs. Burroughs died.
Mr. Burroughs went on to write a few novels, including Naked Lunch. He was famous in hipster circles, and gave lie to the saying “there are no old junkies”. Mr. Burroughs settled in Lawrence KS, and lived to be 83. This leaves out a few inedible details.
Today’s entertainment is a repost, with pictures from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”. If you want to read more about Mr. Burroughs, there is always more.
People often ask me if I have any words of advice for young people. Well here are a few simple admonitions for young and old. Never interfere in a boy-and-girl fight.Beware of whores who say they don’t want money.The hell they don’t.What they mean is they want more money. Much more. If you’re doing business with a religious son-of-a-bitch,Get it in writing.His word isn’t worth shit. Not with the good lord telling him how to fuck you on the deal.
Avoid fuck-ups. We all know the type. Anything they have anything to do with, No matter how good it sounds, Turns into a disaster.Do not offer sympathy to the mentally ill. Tell them firmly: I am not paid to listen to this drivel. You are a terminal boob.
Now some of you may encounter the Devil’s Bargain, If you get that far. Any old soul is worth saving, At least to a priest, But not every soul is worth buying. So you can take the offer as a compliment. He tries the easy ones first. You know like money, All the money there is. But who wants to be the richest guy in some cemetery? Money won’t buy. Not much left to spend it on, eh gramps? Getting too old to cut the mustard.
Well time hits the hardest blows. Especially below the belt. How’s a young body grab you? Like three card monte, like pea under the shell, Now you see it, now you don’t. Haven’t you forgotten something, gramps? In order to feel something, You’ve got to be there. You have to be eighteen. You’re not eighteen. You are seventy-eight. Old fool sold his soul for a strap-on.
Well they always try the easiest ones first. How about an honorable bargain? You always wanted to be a doctor, Well now’s your chance. Why don’t you become a great healer And benefit humanity? What’s wrong with that? Just about everything. Just about everything. There are no honorable bargains Involving exchange Of qualitative merchandise Like souls For quantitative merchandise Like time and money. So piss off Satan And don’t take me for dumber than I look.
An old junk pusher told me – Watch whose money you pick up.
35 Broad Street
PG was having a delightfully slack afternoon, The one productive activity was editing pictures from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”. In box seventy two of “corporate bodies”, in the Lane Brothers archive, there was a picture commissioned by King Road Marker Company. It displayed a brand new crosswalk, over Marietta Street at the intersection of Broad Street. The picture was taken at 1:51 p.m. September 27, 1954. This is a repost.
The time caught PG’s eye. 1:51 is one of the times used to display clocks and watches in advertising. Most ads use 10:09. This arrangement of the hour and minute hands makes a welcoming gesture. This allows the logo of the watch to be visible, and is thought to encourage the viewer to purchase the timepiece. The shadows on the buildings indicate that the picture was shot in early afternoon.
The clock with the magic time advertised the C&S national bank. The building behind the clock was the headquarters of that bank. In 1954, Citizens and Southern bank was a prime player in the Atlanta market. (PG’s dad said that C&S stood for choke’m and squeez’m.) At some point, C&S merged with NCNB to become Nationsbank, which was later absorbed by Bank Of America.
C&S kept it’s headquarters at 35 Broad Street for many years after competitors built trophy buildings. Their were constant rumors about where the C&S highrise was going to go. Finally, C&S Plaza was built at Peachtree and North Avenue, a mile north of five points. The building was to become the tallest building in America outside of New York and Chicago. During the construction of this building, C&S became part of Nationsbank.
The picture is featured in Atlanta Time Machine. The building is now owned by Georgia State University, with a BOA branch on the first floor. The banking hall is spectacular. It was designed by Philip Shutze, before the great depression. Here is more information.
Nations Bank Building (Citizens and Southern National Bank Building, Empire Building)
35 Broad Street, NW 1901: Bruce and Morgan, Architects, NR.
Remodeling of Lower Floors and Interiors 1929:
Hentz, Adler and Shutze, Architects; Philip Shutze, Designer
Fourteen stories high, the Nations Bank Building was the first steel-frame structure to be built in Atlanta. Its clear-cut silhouette, simple fenestration, and heavily decorated terra-cotta top bear the influence of the Chicago School. In 1929 the building became the headquarters of the Citizens and Southern National Bank, which asked Philip Shutze to redesign its three lower floors. Because the impression of load-bearing masonry was regarded as better suited for a banking establishment than large glass panes were, the original display windows were replaces by classical motifs apparently “carved out” of Indiana limestone.
Philip Shutze was inspired by Italian Mannerism, and especially by the city gates of Verona by Michele Sanmichelo (1484-1559) … Reached from Marietta and Walton streets through lofty arcaded entryways and a more intimate elevator lobby in the early Renaissance style on Broad Street, the banking hall is a long nave articulated by colossal Corinthian pilasters. While its walls and floors feature several kinds of Georgia, Tennessee, and European marbles in a warm gold-brown color scheme, the ceiling, from which hang gigantic chandeliers, is left bare. The Pantheon, which Shutze had measured during his internship at the American Academy in Rome, served as direct source for the pedimented niches, and for the floors with alternate square and circular patterns. Also, of Roman inspiration are the bronze desks and the eagle motif found throughout the design.












































































































































































































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