As far as the plight of the Meriwether’s building goes, I can’t say I have any feelings one way or the other about it. The last restaurant I remember in the building was driven out of business by the closure of River Road when a section slid, and I can’t remember anything ever taking its place. The building is a pretty remote location for a business in all but the warmest few months, so I’m not sure it would have been a good candidate for business even if it had been restored.
I was on board one hundred percent when Phil and Mark were the super-duo on KFYR AM 550 radio and they set about preserving the Provident Life Weather Beacon. That’s a piece of history well known to thousands of people, one which many of us still consult when we want a snapshot of what the weather forecast holds in store. The old depot down by the river? I’m not sorry to say that I doubt many people held the same attachment to it. Sure, there were parts of it that were pretty cool…but one of the best of those has found itself a home about a mile down the river.
I just thought of something *gasp* – what if it’s also a typo, and they really don’t like singing?
Later on when I bought my first camera and was looking for cool things around town to photograph, a vague recollection of something really cool on the wall of that building with the gold mirrored windows popped into my head. I drove by and examined the building from multiple angles, but sadly it was gone. I was sure I remembered it, but perhaps it had simply been removed? That would certainly be a shame…but in any case, it was no longer there.
A couple of weeks ago I went for a walkabout with a friend who worked in the Gold Seal Building back when it was leased by the MDU Resources Group. I mentioned that building and the etched stone artwork I thought I remembered, and he knew instantly what I was talking about. “That was moved out to the University of Mary,” he revealed. Joy! I knew then that I somehow had to find that slab of stone which had eluded me for so long.
A quick trip out to the ACC Art Show a couple of weekends ago gave me the opportunity to ask someone at the desk of the Harold Schafer Leadership Center if they knew what I was looking for. Naturally they did, and they led me to a concrete patio on the lower level of the building. Voila’ – here stands the stone I was seeking, looking boldly over the Missouri River to the west. Score!
I guess I can cross this one off my Bismarck-Mandan photographic “Bucket List” and move on to the next one. Thankfully this piece, commissioned by Harold Schafer himself, was preserved. It’s available for anyone on campus to see, but it’s in a location that isn’t readily obvious. The best way to find it is to wander the lawn to the west of the Tharaldson Business Center and saunter slowly southward toward the back of the Schafer center. Once you get to the right area you can’t miss it, unless of course you’re overwhelmed by the stunning view of the Briardale woods and Missouri River valley below.
Sadly, I don’t think my version of the AP logo has a chance. It would be a great example of truth in advertising, but for now I guess we’ll just have to let the AP’s words depict their agenda instead of a simple graphic representation.
I had to chuckle when I spotted this sign in an extremely remote location. In fact, after two weeks my truck is still dropping mud from the section line road adjacent to this property. I don’t even recall whether or not there was some old dilapidated farmstead or other intriguing subject beyond this sign…I simply remember finding the annotation quite amusing. I don’t think I’d want to test the landowner’s resolve, either!
That’s when I saw this sign, locked up the brakes, and hopped out into the ditch with my camera and tripod. I had to wander a bit to get just the right angle, but it wasn’t difficult. I had just enough time to try a few exposures before the light began to fade.
If you’ve read this blog for a while, you know that I often like to make musical references in the title of my posts. In this case, I’m referring to the song by folk singer David Mallet. Here are a couple of lyrical samples:
And there’s a star upon the right.
There’s a nightingale a singin’
To the wondrous summer night.
There are gentle deer a grazin’
In the meadow with no fright.
And there’s no past and there’s no future, only now.
We have chanced upon this fragile scene somehow.
Now there’s a cottontail a’watchin’,
O’er his lady as she sleeps.
I’m a lover of tradition,
Here’s my heart it’s yours to keep.
Won’t you take me as I’m giving,
We’ll be lovers in our flight.
Cause there’s a moon upon the left,
And there’s a star upon the right.
The days are already getting longer and even though (presumably) we’ll have a cold snap to brave our way through before winter’s over, those calm moonlit nights are just around the corner – perfect for those hand-holding walks with my sweetie. Soon, I tell myself…soon.
I was taking down my calendar from last year (although I discovered it had 2012 on the back) to replace it with a new one, when I spotted something interesting: at the bottom of 2011 it also had smaller boxes containing Janaury and February 2012, for those of us who don’t change our calendars on time! Wait, what? Janaury?
Yes, mine had January misspelled on it. I checked the back to see if the same quirk existed on the 2012 side (with little January and February 2013’s on it), and it did! As a proofreader I found that noteworthy, so I checked other calendars in the building which hadn’t yet been replaced. As it turns out, I’ve got the only one with the error. Hmmmmm…that’s odd.
In addition to the giant poster-sized calendar, I also had an 8.5×11 version. That had the misspelling of January as well…yet I couldn’t find another calendar with the same typo anywhere! Weird.
I’m one of those people who could look at a printed page and have any typo errors leap off the page at me almost instantly, as if I was looking at one of those 3D computer-generated posters. As a result, I find it appropriate that I seem to have the one calendar with this particular feature.
Before any conspiracy theories abound, I’d like to point out that this calendar was hung three months before I moved into the office where it was hanging. I don’t believe in fate, but if I did I would surmise that perhaps this calendar and I were meant to find each other!