Stray Thursday Items

Posted on August 16, 2018 by admin

Various things my computer has told me lately:

Object reference not set to an instance of an object.

Description: An unhandled exception occurred during the execution of the current web request. Please review the stack trace for more information about the error and where it originated in the code.

Sure, whatever you say.

Tremendous loud thunderstorm yesterday evening. Short but dramatic. The yard needed the water. Been a dryish August so far. But not too hot. I try to enjoy lunch on my deck daily, and sometimes breakfast, because soon the air will grow cold. All too soon.

Cicadas are in full voice during the day now. Crickets are on the night shift, singing their songs. Sounds just the same — to my human ears — as it did in 2015. But for all I know, the songs have morphed since then, and are as different to the insects as Middle English compared with Modern English.

Presidential sites are pretty thin on the ground up on the north shore of Lake Superior, but I did find one place during our recent trip that has the vaguest connection to a U.S. president. Its name: Buchanan.

Here it is.
That might look like undeveloped shore on Lake Superior, and it is, but not far from shore a plaque says: This town site, named after President Buchanan, was laid out in October 1856. From September 1857 until May 1859 the place, though little less than wilderness, was the seat of the U.S. land office for the northeastern district of Minnesota. After the removal of the land office, the settlement disappeared.

This sizable sculpture is on the campus of University of Minnesota Duluth, near that school’s planetarium. It’s called “Wild Ricing Moon.”“The sculpture… was designed by John David Mooney, a Chicago sculptor with an international reputation,” the university says. “The piece is 89 feet tall. The first half of this large-scale outdoor sculpture was erected in October 2005. The first installation, a large steel circle, 40 feet in diameter, represents the full, rice-harvesting moon of late summer.

“A ‘rice stalk’ section and bird was included in the pieces that arrived in June. Mooney described the sculpture as reflecting the North Shore of Lake Superior and natural features of the region.”

Here’s the pleasant open area behind the Allyndale Motel in Duluth.

One morning I ate a rudimentary breakfast there as the girls slept. One night I went there on the thin hope that the northern lights would be visible. No dice.

I spent a few minutes tooling around Eau Claire, Wis., on the Saturday morning on the way up to Minnesota. One thing I saw in passing was the impressive Sacred Heart-St. Patrick Parish church.
Unfortunately, the church was closed.

A little later that day we stopped at Leinenkugel Brewery in Chippewa Falls. The tourist-facing part of the operation is known as the Leinie Lodge®, which “is filled with historical photos, vintage brewing equipment and plenty of Leinie’s wearables and collectibles to take home,” notes the brewery web site. There’s also a bar. Guess what it serves.

Boy, the Leinie Lodge was crowded. That’s the result of years of clever advertising (autoplay) and what we get for going on a Saturday morning. But that wasn’t the irritating part, not really. Leinenkugel Brewery tours cost $10. Admission for a brewery tour?

I’ve been on brewery and vineyard and distillery tours all over the world, including a beer brewery in Denmark, a bourbon maker in Kentucky, a winery in Western Australia and a sake brewery in Japan, and that’s one thing I haven’t run across. Because, you know, the tour is marketing — building goodwill — introducing new customers to your product — not a damned revenue stream. For the birds, Leinenkugel, for the birds.

But I have to confess that Lilly wanted a Leinenkugel shirt, so I got her one. Her souvenir for the trip. I got a couple of postcards.

On the way back from Minnesota, as I’ve mentioned, we ate lunch in Madison, Wis., at the excellent Monty’s Blue Plate Diner.

Across the street from Monty’s is the Barrymore Theatre. I like its looks.

Various live acts play at the Barrymore. Looking at the upcoming list, I see that They Might Be Giants will be there in October after dates in the UK, Germany and Canada. Maybe I should see them again — it’s been almost 30 years now — but it’s a Tuesday show, so I don’t think I’ll make it.

One more thing. At a rest stop on I-94 near Black River Falls, Wis., there’s a state historical marker honoring, at some length, the passenger pigeon. Among other things, the marker says: “The largest nesting on record anywhere occurred in this area in 1871. The nesting ground covered 850 square miles with an estimated 136,000,000 pigeons.

“John Muir described the passenger pigeons in flight, ‘I have seen flocks streaming south in the fall so large that they were flowing from horizon to horizon in an almost continuous stream all day long.’ “

Wow. 136 million pigeons more or less in the same place? A marvel to behold, I’m sure. That and an amazing amount of noise and a monumental torrent of droppings.

Bong!

Posted on August 12, 2018 by admin

On the morning of July 31, as the girls slept a little late, I drove from Duluth to Superior, Wis., via the Richard I. Bong Memorial Bridge. It’s a long, not particularly wide bridge over St. Louis Bay, in service since 1985.

Richard Ira Bong, who grew up on a farm near Superior, is credited with shooting down 40 Japanese aircraft as a fighter pilot with the U. S. Army Air Corps, and likely got other kills that weren’t credited. Driving through Superior a few days earlier, I’d noticed the Richard I. Bong Veterans Historical Center on the lake, so after crossing his namesake bridge, I made my way to the Bong Center to take a look.

It’s a small military museum with a strong Bong component, but not entirely devoted to him. Walking in, it’s hard to miss the centerpiece P-38 Lightning fighter plane, the very sort that Maj. Bong flew to such lethal effect on the enemy.

This aircraft isn’t the one Bong flew. While he was stateside, it crashed while another pilot was flying it. The Army took delivery of the one on display in July 1945, after Bong had been ordered to quit flying combat missions. The Richard I. Bong American Legion Post of Poplar, Wis., acquired the plane from the Air Force in 1949, and it was on display in that town for some decades.

In the 1990s, the plane was restored to resemble Bong’s P-38J “Marge,” complete with his fiance Marge’s portrait on it.

Bong’s Medal of Honor is on display. His citation says: “For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action above and beyond the call of duty in the Southwest Pacific area from 10 October to 15 November 1944.

“Though assigned to duty as gunnery instructor and neither required nor expected to perform combat duty, Maj. Bong voluntarily and at his own urgent request engaged in repeated combat missions, including unusually hazardous sorties over Balikpapan, Borneo, and in the Leyte area of the Philippines. His aggressiveness and daring resulted in his shooting down 8 enemy airplanes during this period.”

As mentioned, the museum isn’t all about Bong. There’s an assortment of artifacts, such as this magnetic mine.

Some home-front ephemera.

A piece of a Messerschmitt 109.

Bong came home for good in 1945, before the war was over, and did some test piloting of jet aircraft for the Army in California. Being a test pilot turned out to be more dangerous for Bong than facing the Japanese in the Pacific.

His plane crashed in an accident on an otherwise famed date: August 6, 1945. He and Marge had only been married a short while (she died in 2003, after playing an important part in establishing the museum).

Duluth & Environs ’18

Posted on August 5, 2018 by admin

When I was very young, I had a U.S. map puzzle that I put together who knows how many times, fascinated by the individual shapes of the states. Some states more than others, including Minnesota, with its rough northern border, more-or-less straight-back western border, concave eastern border and pointy southeast and especially northeast corners.

The northeast corner still holds some fascination, and for more than just the shape. There’s the lure of the North Woods, and Lake Superior is always calling. Enough to inspire a short trip. On July 27, after I finished my Friday work, we hit the road for a five-night trip to Duluth and environs.

Since reaching Duluth means crossing northwest all the way through Wisconsin, a few points in that state were part of the trip as well, especially Eau Claire, where we spent the first night at a spartan but tolerable chain motel.

From Saturday afternoon until the morning of Wednesday, August 1, we stayed at the non-chain Allyndale Motel, a notch up from spartan. It’s in west Duluth, almost at the edge of town, but actually Duluth isn’t that large, so the location wasn’t bad.

I guessed that the Allyndate dated from the golden age of independent motel development, namely the 1950s. The details were right, except no bottle opener attached to a surface somewhere in the room. Just before we left, in a talk with the owner, I was able to confirm that vintage. The first rooms dated from 1952, he said, with later additions.

Before checking into the motel that first day, we spent a short while in downtown Duluth, walking along E. Superior St., which features shops and entertainment venues, including a legitimate theater, art house cinema and a casino. Rain, which had been holding back on the way into town, started to come down hard, so we ducked into the Duluth Coffee Company Cafe long enough to wait it out over various beverages.

That evening, we took in a show at the Marshall W. Alworth Planetarium, which is part of the University of Minnesota Duluth. The recorded show, narrated by Liam Neeson, was about black holes, and then an astrophysics grad student (I think) talked about the night sky. Many planetariums don’t bother with live narration anymore, so that was refreshing.

On Sunday we drove along much of the winding and often scenic Skyline Parkway in Duluth, stopping along the route to take in the sweeping view of the city, as well its twin city of Superior, Wis., and a large stretch of Lake Superior, from the Enger Tower in the aptly named Enger Park.

There happened to be a coffee and ice cream truck in the park, so Lilly had iced coffee and Ann had ice cream. The truck showed its regional pride in the form of a Minnesota flag.

The design needs work, like many Midwest state flags. Here’s an alternative.

Late that morning we saw Duluth’s Aerial Lift Bridge up close, along with other parts of Canal Park and lakeside spots. The lofty bridge — crossing the entrance to Lake Superior from St. Louis Bay — is the Eiffel Tower of Duluth, a stand-in for the city that appears in a lot of places, including a refrigerator magnet that we brought home. (But I refuse to use the i-word.)

In the afternoon, we headed northeast from town along U.S. 61, which follows the shore of Lake Superior. That region, I discovered, is known locally as the North Shore. We made it as far as Gooseberry Falls State Park.

On Monday, July 30, we headed north, mostly via U.S. 53, to Voyageurs National Park, which is hard by the Canadian border. The trip up and back from Duluth is a little far for a single day, but ultimately seemed worth the effort. Besides, something about the symmetry of visiting Voyageurs NP and Big Bend NP during the same year appealed to me.

As the girls slept late on the last day of July, I made my way to Superior, Wis., and visited the Richard I. Bong Veterans Historical Center, a small military museum. WWII is increasingly distant, and except in Wisconsin, the memory of air ace Bong’s deeds has faded. But he had his moment.

The main event of July 31, our last day in town, was the Great Lakes Aquarium, which is in downtown Duluth, on St. Louis Bay not far from the Aerial Lift Bridge and Canal Park. The aquarium’s distinction is that it focuses on freshwater creatures.

Late that afternoon, I struck out again on my own to see one more place: Forest Hill Cemetery, which is in the hills northeast of the University of Minnesota Duluth. My kind of site, not the girls’.

On August 1, we got up early and drove home, stopping only to eat lunch in Madison. I wanted to take Lilly to Ella’s Deli, since she wasn’t with us last year when we went. But it’s closed.

Too bad. Wonder what happened to all the oddball stuff Ella’s had. Instead we found Monty’s Blue Plate Diner. Not as much whimsy on the walls as Ella’s, but the food was good.

Milwaukee City Hall

Posted on October 5, 2017 by admin

After spending much of the day in churches, we ended Milwaukee Doors Open by visiting a structure of the state. More specifically, Milwaukee City Hall, which is as palatial in its way as any ornate church.

The view of the building from the corner of E. Kilbourn Ave. and N. Water St.

“From 1895 until 1899, the tallest inhabited structure in the world was Milwaukee’s City Hall, a building noted for its Flemish design and landmark qualities,” says the Wisconsin Labor History Society. “Towering more than 300 feet, it was a pioneering building in an era as elevators finally were becoming practical. The building’s design has been heralded and it still stands as a trademark [sic] of Wisconsin’s largest city.”

The clock tower, from Water St. south of E. Wells St.
I didn’t realize until I read more about the building, designed by local architect Henry C. Koch, that City Hall was featured in the introduction of Laverne & Shirley, probably because I haven’t seen that show in nearly 40 years. At the time, large letters midway up the clock tower said WELCOME MILWAUKEE VISITORS. A nice sentiment, but déclassé on your city hall, and the letters were removed at some point.

The first floor lobby offers a good first impression of interior.
“The building was one of the first to feature an extensive open atrium, of 20 by 70 feet, rising eight stories in the building’s center,” the city’s web site says.
“During the Great Depression, seven people jumped to their deaths, and an eighth died of a stroke after one of the jumpers nearly missed him. Afterwards, in 1935, protective wiring was placed around the center rails of the floors to prevent accidents and suicides and remained in place until Mayor John O. Norquist took office in 1988.”

A view from the third floor, looking toward the mayor’s office on the second floor.
“The building measures 393 feet from the base of the bell tower to the top of the flagpole, making it Milwaukee’s sixth largest. The flagpole measures 40 feet in length.

“The 22,500-pound bell – named ‘Solomon Juneau’ after Milwaukee’s first mayor – was fabricated from melted copper and tin from old church and firehouse bells around the city, and was hoisted to the tower in 1896, first chiming on New Year’s Eve.

“While Milwaukee’s Allen-Bradley building (Rockwell Automation) features the world’s second largest four-sided clock, City Hall’s 18-foot clock was believed to be the world’s third largest when it was fabricated.”

On the third floor is the Common Council chamber. A lot of natural light fills the room from behind the dais.

People were taking turns sitting at the dais, holding the gavel, so why not?
Churches have their stained glass. So do municipal buildings, at least this one, at the entrance to the Common Council.
Tours of the upper reaches of the clock tower were booked by the time we got there. Too bad. Just another reason to go back next year.

Three East Town Milwaukee Churches

Posted on October 4, 2017 by admin

East Town is part of Milwaukee’s urban core, characterized by upmaket apartments and condos, smaller office buildings — the larger commercial properties are just to the south — and large churches. The district, also known as Juneautown, or the Juneau-Cass Historic District, or Yankee Hill, is east of the Milwaukee River (various sources give it various names).

Two large churches are on Juneau Ave. One is Summerfield United Methodist Church.
A handsome sandstone and limestone Gothic church, it dates from 1904, when it was occupied by the First Community Church. Later that church and Summerfield Methodist merged. Summerfield, as a congregation, goes back to the 1850s, when they were abolitionist to the core.

Coming from a Catholic basilica, the church seemed like an exercise in Protestant restraint.
But it isn’t completely unornamented.
With one of the more interesting church ceilings I’ve seen lately.
While reading about Summerfield, I discovered that its immediate post-Civil War pastor was Samuel Fallows. I’d met him before, in a way. I saw his grave at Waldheim Cemetery more than a decade ago.

Less than a block away from Summerfield is All Saints’ Cathedral, or more formally, the Cathedral Church of All Saints, seat of the Episcopalian Bishop of Milwaukee.

Edward Townsend Mix, a busy 19th-century Milwaukee architect, designed the building for Olivet Congregational Church in 1868, but it wasn’t long (1871) before the Episcopal diocese bought it, consecrating the structure as a cathedral in 1898.

I’ve read that the congregation there is Anglo-Catholic, and we found the interior traditionalist in one way at least: no air conditioning. That made the place warm on the day we were there. But that wasn’t so bad. We sat and listened to part of an organ concert at the cathedral, an all-J.S. Bach program by Canon Joseph A. Kucharski, cathedral precentor.

Interesting note from the handout that the cathedral gave us: “1825: The first Episcopal priest was brought to the Wisconsin Territory at the request of the Stockbridge (NY) Oneida (a.k.a. the Mohican tribe of the Algonquin nation), who moved first to the lands along the Fox River in 1818, then to the east shore of Lake Winnebago. To this day, the Cathedral Church of All Saints has active Oneida members.”

On N. Waverly Pl., near the other churches, is Immanuel Presbyterian Church.
The church asserts that it was the first congregation in Milwaukee, organized in 1837. The building dates from 1875, except that it burned down in 1887 and was rebuilt by 1889. Various other changes followed in the 20th century. Edward Townsend Mix again.

Spare indeed, but elegant.
With many fine stained glass windows.
There was one more church nearby open for Milwaukee Doors Open, but we wanted lunch, and besides, five is probably enough for any one day. Aesthetic overload begins to set in: Gee, look, another beautiful church, with magnificent stained glass. Wow. You know, I’d really like a hamburger.

Return to the Basilica of St. Josaphat

Posted on October 3, 2017 by admin

The last time we visited the Basilica of St. Josaphat in Milwaukee, the sky was slate gray and drizzly. This time, an unusually hot September sun in perfectly blue skies bore down on the church. The basilica looked as imposing as ever.

Back in 2011, I related the story of how the church was built of recycled bricks from a massive Chicago post office, and a bit about the saint, so I won’t repeat myself. The visit this time was mainly about getting a longer look at the opulent interior, patterned after St. Peter’s in Rome, only smaller.

The splendid dome.
And more.

The rose window.

Other fine windows.

Downstairs is the relic room. A big stash of them in many reliquaries. The room looks open, but I put my camera between iron bars to capture the image.
There’s one from St. Josaphat, which seems appropriate, as well as St. Francis of Assisi, St. Nicholas of Myra, St. Sebastian, St. Maximilian Kolbe, St. Stanislaus Kostka, St. Bridget of Sweden, St. Pius X, and St. John Paul II, among others.

There’s also a Relic of the True Cross, according to one of the signs. More easily obtainable than I would have thought. Well, you know what Calvin, who of course had his own agenda, said about that.

Annunciation Greek Orthodox Church & Stalin’s Tattooed Granddaughter

Posted on October 2, 2017 by admin

I had a short talk with one of the volunteers at Annunciation Greek Orthodox Church in near-suburban Milwaukee during the Open Doors event. That was the first place we visited. She was roughly my age, and knowledgeable about her church. I asked her about the church’s pews. That’s not something you usually see in the Orthodox tradition.

The pews arrayed in a semicircle, with all of them facing the sanctuary. Each pew is lined with sky blue cushions — with gold carpet underneath — and a fish is carved into the end. Interesting detail, I thought.

Yes, she said, pews are unusual for an Orthodox church. In all the others she’d seen, including in the United States and Europe, the congregation stands. Are pews normal in other churches? she asked me. Catholic and Protestant ones?

I answered yes, even as the implications of the question sunk in. Someone so informed about her church, and with plenty of years behind her, had never visited any other kind of church? That couldn’t be. Not even for a look? Not even in the great cities of Europe, where you can wear yourself out visiting churches of renown?

That’s just about inconceivable to me, who will enter a church or any other religious site that’s open, without hesitation. Especially unusual places such as Annunciation.
Genius or otherwise, Frank Lloyd Wright’s work is almost always worth a look. Interesting how he incorporated Byzantine elements such as the dome, and crosses in circles, into something that doesn’t look like other churches, Eastern or not. And doesn’t the church have that Space Age look as well? Like the Jetsons might have attended there.

This is facing the iconostasis. The pews are partly visible.
Rachel Minske writes in Wauwatosa Now: “The altar area, once carpeted, is now marbled. Egg tempera two-dimensional depictions of church icons surround it. The church choir normally sits high above the altar, on the second floor, and its members view the service using a video monitor as they are somewhat hidden from view, [Father John] Ketchum said.

“Stained glass windows are found throughout the church, which also were additions after the building was completed, Ketchum said. Glass bulbs line the church’s perimeter, up high near the dome. There are more than 200 bulb-shaped windows, each letting in a significant amount of natural light.

“…The original ceiling was tiled, but that was replaced with paint after changing temperatures inside the church caused the tiles to fall off the ceiling.

“To access the church’s bottom floor, there are three spiral staircases that wind downstairs. Each has a whimsical design and is lined with gold carpet.”

On the upper level, I got a few decent images of the stained glass.
And a look at this sign.
Curious that the church would draw attention to Stalin’s granddaughter’s baptism there. More current information about Ogla, now Chrese Evans, is all too easy to look up. I’ll take the NY Post as authoritative in this case.

Milwaukee Doors Open ’17

Posted on October 1, 2017 by admin

Temps have cooled down some, but it’s still warmer than usual for this time of year. At about 12:30 this afternoon, I saw an ice cream truck drive down our street. I can’t ever remember seeing one in October.

Last weekend, Yuriko and I drove up to Milwaukee to participate in Milwaukee Doors Open. Ann couldn’t make it, even if she’d wanted to, because she was attending her first high school speech tournament.

That’s a good thing. Her joining speech inspired me, while in Texas recently, to open up one of my high school yearbooks, the 1979 edition, to the page devoted to the National Forensic League. I was a member.
I discovered when Ann signed up for debate that it isn’t the NFL any more, but the National Speech & Debate Association, only since 2014. What kind of name is that? Hopelessly bland. It’s as distinctive as the name of a suburban office park in a mid-sized market.

Note in the picture above: the club’s officers (I was one of those, too) had fun with belonging to the NFL. We lined up like football players for the picture.

First we went to Annunciation Greek Orthodox Church, which is in the near suburb of Wauwatosa. It’s best known for being one of Frank Lloyd Wright’s last works, and in fact was completed after he died. As I read, and as I saw, this 1950s church is informed by traditional Byzantine forms. But I also couldn’t help thinking of space age forms.

From there, we went into the city and revisited the Basilica of Saint Josaphat. Last time we were there was Good Friday 2011, and as you’d guess, the church was fairly busy that day. This time, it was open just for a look, so we were able to do that at some length.

East Town, the part of downtown Milwaukee east of the Milwaukee River, was next. A number of churches along or near Juneau St. were open, so they became the focus. Doors Open features a lot more than churches, but with so many clustered together, I figured that would be a good theme for this year.

They included All Saints’ Cathedral (Episcopal), Summerfield United Methodist Church and Immanuel Presbyterian Church. All were worth seeing.

At one of them, a U.S. flag and another flag graced the entrance. The other one, which I’d never seen before, intrigued me. Y held it so I could take a picture, since the wind wasn’t up.
I asked the volunteer inside the door about it, and she told me it was the new flag of Milwaukee. I took that to mean officially, but that’s not so. There’s a movement to make it the official flag, to replace this embarrassment, but it hasn’t happened yet.

Currently it’s the People’s Flag of Milwaukee. Sounds like the banner under which the proletariat would storm City Hall, but I don’t think the organizers of online poll to pick a new design had that in mind. I’ll go along with it, though I don’t live in Milwaukee. It’s a good design. Vexillologists hate the current flag, and I agree with them.

Speaking of Milwaukee City Hall, that was the last place we went for Doors Open Milwaukee after a late lunch at the downtown George Webb, the local diner chain with two clocks. I interviewed the mayor of Milwaukee in his office at City Hall in 2003, but I really didn’t get to look around. It’s a splendid public building, dating from the Progressive Era.

Thursday Odd Lots

Posted on July 27, 2017 by admin

“What’s so funny, Dad?”

“That sign across the street.”

We were in Wisconsin during our recent trip, and had stopped at a place where I could access wifi. The sign was visible from there.

“That’s not funny.”

“Maybe it will be for you someday.”

What would happen if you used this granite for landscaping? Would your back yard suddenly cause you dread? Kafkaesque landscaping, now there’s a concept.

Looks like Kafka does some good work, though.

Here’s a sign you don’t see much any more, though I’m pretty sure that they were common once upon a time. I think even my high school cafeteria, which was in a basement, had one in the late ’70s. They’re so rare now that when you do see one in situ, you take note. Something like a working public pay phone.

This one is on Sixth St. in Calumet, Michigan. It even has a capacity number. What was once an unnerving reminder of the nuclear Sword of Damocles can now “add a cool tone to a man cave or retro game room,” according to Amazon, where you can pick a reproduction up from the Vintage Sign Co. for (currently) $18.99. The note also calls the item a “vintage style WWII metal sign.” What is it about basic chronology that flummoxes so many people?

Something else I saw, a little more recently, in Bucktown.

Shiva Shack? C’mon in for a bit of destruction and then transformation.

Also in Bucktown: a game of beanbag on the sidewalk.

Maybe there to remind us what politics ain’t.

Recently I picked up The Happy Isles of Oceania (1992) by Paul Theroux. It’s been sitting on my shelf for a number of years. So far it’s a good read. I understand that he has a reputation as a snob, and some of that comes through in his writing, but I don’t know the man personally, so I wouldn’t have to put up with him anyway.

He writes well, at least about the places he’s been, and that’s all that counts. His description, early in the book, of hiking on the South Island of New Zealand, is a fine bit of work, and had the unfortunate side effect of making me want to drop everything and go do that. The mood passed.

Theroux’s work did influence me to go one place. In the early ’90s, I read his Sunrise With Seamonsters, a collection of essays and travel bits, and one piece included a mention of the Cameron Highlands on the Malay Peninsula. It’s a former British hill station, more recently a getaway place for Malaysians and the trickle of tourists who’ve heard of it. His mention of it was probably where I first heard of the place.

When I went to Malaysia for the first time, I made a point of going there, and did not regret it. Besides cool temps, you can enjoy jungle walks (unless you’re Jim Thompson), a butterfly garden, a nighttime view that can include the Southern Cross, and eating Chettinad cuisine on a banana leaf, with your hands.

This is what life is, according to the song.

Rainier cherries, which are in season now. Very popular around the house, and we buy them in large quantities while we can. I’m glad that there are still some foods, some fruits, that have a season.

I’m not all that keen on Rudy Vallee, but his version of the song is good. And the lip sync from Pennies From Heaven (1981) is amusing. I saw that movie when it was new, probably because Steve Martin was in it, but I don’t remember very much about it. Maybe I should watch it again. I know I was too young then to appreciate its songs.

Roadside Wisconsin, Part 3: Ella’s Deli, Madison

Posted on July 20, 2017 by admin

It’s Space Exploration Day. Always a good thing to think about.

Ella’s Deli in Madison, Wisconsin, is on E. Washington Ave. If you’re driving on that street, it’s hard to miss.

Washington Ave. happens to be a good way to get from I-90/I-39, which runs east of Madison, into the city. Right into downtown, in fact: straight to the capitol, the university, the lakes, and so on. Over the years I’ve noticed Ella’s as I passed by, but never stopped. This time, I drove on Washington Ave. specifically to get there.

A bit from Ella’s web site: “In the early 1960s Ella Hirschfeld owned and operated Ella’s on State Street as a small kosher style deli/grocery/restaurant. At that time Ella’s provided an outlet for the Jewish community and others to buy kosher products over the counter, as well as offering restaurant service for about a dozen tables.

“In 1976, Ella’s opened another location, thanks to the support of Madison’s community… In recent years, Ella’s Deli on East Washington Avenue became the only Ella’s Deli.

“Under the same ownership for over 45 years, Ella’s operates with in-house bakers, full-time cooks that prepare our foods from scratch, and animations designed and built on the premises.”

It was a good choice, both as a place to eat, and a place to see odd things. For instance, a robot-like entity meets you inside the door.

The restaurant doesn’t exactly have a theme, though I’ve seen it referred to elsewhere as “a place to take your children.” Certainly, but like some things supposedly for children, it isn’t just for them.

Mostly, it’s whimsical. Most of the decoration, which is near the ceiling, seems to have been picked to add to the place’s overall whimsy. You can appreciate whimsy at any age. More when you’re older, if you’ve a certain cast of mind.
A number of figures attached to small motors whirred back and forth on wires stretched across the ceiling. Such as the Man of Steel.
Popeye riding a rocket.
Not sure who this sort-of astronaut is supposed to be, but he and the Aladdin Genie were just over our table. Or aquanaut? Note the golden seahorses.

Elsewhere were tableaux, such as Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.
Here’s a Chicago Coin’s Band-Box.

When I looked at it, I didn’t realize that it’s part of a little world of its own. According to the Chicago Coin’s Band-Box site, these manikins, made only from 1950 to ’52 in Chicago, were really part of a remote wall-mounted speaker for a jukebox. Drop and coin for a song and you get a little show, too.

“The jukebox closes a switch which causes the band box lights to go on and the curtains to open, revealing a seven-piece band with their instruments. They move as if they are playing the music. The figures were made of sponge rubber which decays over time.”

Apparently the company made them and other mechanical contrivances, but went bust by the 1980s. At that time, a fellow named Brad Frank in California bought all the rights and trademarks of the former company, and he still makes the Band-Boxes, along with replacement parts.

Just goes to show you the things you can learn by looking at the stuff on the walls. Followed by short Internet searches.

There’s more. Most of Ella’s tables were glass-topped, with various items displayed inside. Such as yo-yos.

Or assorted gewgaws and gimcracks.
So Ella’s was a very interesting place, visually speaking, to sit down for a meal. But all would have been for naught, and I probably wouldn’t write about it, if the food weren’t worth eating. Fortunately, it was.

In fact, “deli” in the name is no idle affectation. I opted for a Reuben sandwich, and it was the best Reuben I’ve had anywhere outside of New York. Everyone else reported satisfaction with their choices. Next time, I’ll try the ice cream.

Been There, Seen That

By Dees Stribling

Category Archives: US: Wisconsin