Buffalo Pharmacy – Houston, TX, originally uploaded by Mr. Kimberly.
Always wanted to snap a picture of this place. Now I did.3118 Bissonnet St.
Houston, TX
Always wanted to snap a picture of this place. Now I did.3118 Bissonnet St.
Houston, TX
Comcast decided last Thursday that I was undeserving of internet access, and has purged my modem from their database, rendering it a blinking paperweight. A thank you to my neighbor for the much needed internet fix. And a thank-you to Crystal, the rare Comcast rep who not only returned the phones call she promised, but left messages with details about the situation, and a phone number that went directly to a person and not an automated message system. It’s been a week with no resolution and we may not be Comcast customers after this, but Crystal will be getting recommendation sent to her department.
The following are assorted pictures of Houston taken while an escape from sweet wife and adorable child. They recaptured me and now I am cooking and cleaning for the women who love me most. They have promised to let me out on occasion for additional field trips.
It all had something to do with someone either fucking up a car or fucking in a car.
My first thought when the 2:30 am argument in the next apartment started was that it was a shame it was so cold out. An open door would have made it easier to hear. My second thought, it was a shame we didn’t have a baby monitor or I would have put it on the patio. My wife wished it was warmer so we could have gone out and listened to the whole affair with while drinking. In Atlanta, the upstairs apartment got busted for meth. The neighbors all came to our place and drank wine on the patio as the cops made a racket above. Tonight’s fight was loud enough that 911 got the call. All has been quiet the rest of the night, so that’s the end of that.
In non-domestic dispute related news, I spent most of the evening scanning an illustrated souvenir book from the 1939 New York World’s Fair. The new all-in-one Canon printer/scanner/copier/fax works quite nicely. Now, if it could only repair our just-recently broken TV and stop Z from crying it would be just about perfect.
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After driving to the Neon Gallery, I parked across the street. The gallery’s neon windmill wasn’t lit, so I was happy to take aim at the Key Maps sign, before I left.
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A couple weeks ago, I got my photo groove back on. After finishing a work-related trip downtown, I wandered the area. I visited the Art Deco city hall building and spent some time at the Houston Heritage Society Museum. After that, I drove down Montrose Ave. to get some pictures of the Masonic Temple.
Holland Lodge #1 is a beauty of a modernist building. It consists of two perpendicular intersecting rectangles; a brick, ground floor base and an upper, cantilevered, pale concrete one. The concrete one extends above the rear parking lot and houses the main hall. I’m not thrilled with the pictures, mainly due to a lack of sun and partially because I can’t capture the specific architectural aspects that I like with a single picture. While wandering around the back, I chanced upon a guy bringing a ladder into the building. Being a handyman, I guessed he didn’t have any authority in the building, and asked if there was someone there who could give me permission to take some interior photos. Moments later, out came a Brother Mason who said I could take all the pictures outside that I wanted, as they’d spent over 2 million on the streetside facade.
After asking if I was a mason (I’m not; my mom’s dad was) he proceeded to start a history lesson on Masons in America. I had my afternoon free so I was happy to be schooled on John Paul Jones, George Washington and others. When he saw I was still interested/not fleeing, he asked if I wanted to know a bit more about Texas and Masons. I said sure, he said “No pictures,” and we went inside.
The building dates from the 1950s and has a combination of clean modern lines with more decorative elements referencing the early European heritage of Freemasonry.
In one of the side rooms, there is a collection of famous Texan Masons, including but not limited to:
In the main hall, the modern, reserved design was most evident. Unlike the many Philadelphia lodge rooms (Flickr picture), this room was free of extraneous decoration; instead the wall were broad expanses of wood, with indirect lighting on the ceiling. It was a clean, modernist interpretation of a ceremonial lodge room. As I exited the room, I saw overhead two old slide projectors, and in the library there was a glass slide of a masonic image. It reminded me that many secret societies were influenced by theatrical design and some groups had members of various stage professions.
In the library, I was looking at a wall of black and white portraits. The Brother Mason said they had pictures of every master mason who had served, even the ones they kicked out. That piqued my curiosity and I asked what someone had to do to get the boot. Brother Mason paused a moment, then replied, “You know what a libertine is?” Having attended college, I said yes, and clarified, “So, it’s behavior unbecoming a mason? “Yes,” he said, and proceeded to detail and detailed the life of Jesse H. Jones, Secretary of Commerce and director of the Reconstruction Finance Corporation during the years following the Great Depression. Under attack by those who would take over his position of power, my host cited Jones’ adherence to Masonic ideology as protection against accusations of corruption and embezzlement. Fellow masons in the Congress helped Jones draw attention to these attacks in public hearings and prevented his ouster from his positions of authority.
That pretty much ended my Freemasonry 101 class for the day, as I had to find something to eat. I had spent at least an hour at the lodge and I was getting hungry.
So the two lessons of the day were (in reverse order);
For detailed biographies of all the Masons mentioned, as well as anything else Texan – Texas State Historical Association – The Handbook of Texas Online
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The best employee at the James Coney Island hotdog stand is… a hotdog with legs… eating a hotdog. Not the really nice guy that took my order or the really nice cashier girl, but the company logo.
The hotdogs are pretty good, though.
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It was free Sunday at the MFAH, thanks to Target’s generosity. Finally, the missus and I went to the “Red Hot – Asian Art Today” show. It was so nice I might be paying just to see it again. And, so good, that my wife (a particularly harsh critic of modern art) wished that it was a permanent show.
We also saw this crime against spelling…
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Last week, I went to the opening of Kirsten Hassenfeld’s opening at the Rice University Gallery. It was worth dealing with the stupid parking situation because the show is a beauty. My pictures don’t do justice to the large, delicate, nuanced pieces.
I would have attended her free lecture the following day, but I promised a neighbor that I would help him move. He was moving his girlfriend back to Boston. Having moved cross-country three time in the last eight years, I knew wouldn’t fit all the stuff in the 12-foot truck he rented. As we packed his truck and there was less and less room, I told him that he should get a 16-foot truck. He said that it would all fit. It didn’t.
I now have a large box of really nice, gourmet food, four folding chairs and a new TV.
My sweetie is modeling my favorite shirt I never wear. I worked an Asian art show in Vegas years ago. All the shipping and packing materials had this great mama/baby cat logo. I asked if they had any extra t-shirts, and the gift-prone Japanese guests gave me this one. They must have thought that I doubled in size when I left the museum because they got me a XL when I’m a M. I would wear this all the time if it wasn’t a circus tent on me.
It’s a perfect shirt for mom-to-be.