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July 7, 2003
The Way Home
I took the bus home from work today. It was a bit crowded, so I grabbed a seat near the back of the bus. Behind me sat a young mother an son. I took out my book to start reading silently, and so did she. All except for the silently part. For 20 minutes I was forced to listen to this woman reading Pippi Longstocking (complete with voice effects). More than once the other passengers turned around with annoyed looks on their faces. I ended up putting my book away, since the girlish adventures of Pippi took away from the bleak mood cast by my book of Camus' short stories.
The bus drops me off several blocks from my apartment. Sometimes I choose to walk along 5th Avenue, over which stands the monorail track. Other times I cross it and pass several old theatres made into cinemas or clubs. There's not much else really old in trendy Belltown. And now there's even less. A block away from where I live there stands the remains of an old church, which is slowly being gutted to be made into a condominium.
Being a guy, I wandered over to check out the construction site. The church has only two walls, which are being propped up by big steel girders. I walked over to where a wall used to be and looked inside. Twisted metal and broken pews are strewn everywhere. A yellow backhoe sits where the pulpit once was. It's weird to think that a building that once housed a congregation of hopeful parishioners is now being converted into housing for yuppies. That's progress for ya.
I looked up to where the fourth wall was. It had been flush against the next building, and when it was torn down, it uncovered something really cool. Murals. Advertisements painted directly onto the wall of a building. Not old and faded, but vibrant. Well, as vibrant as one can be, having been walled up for fifty years. One mural simply states "Queen Anne 1317 We always do good work". I don't think that was ever in doubt. The other ad is much more interesting. It's for Albers Rolled Oats. The slogan reads "At a housewife's fingertips". I have no idea why a housewife would need rolled oats so readily. In fact, I have no idea what I would do with rolled oats even if they were handy. Truly these murals are from a different era.
Here's a photo I took, in case you're interested.
