The Fine Arts Building

This year on Halloween, I found myself wondering when the apostrophe mostly disappeared from Hallowe’en, at least in U.S. usage. The charts posted at a site called Grammar Revolution (though without citation) offer some information on the question. Hallowe’en, as one might see on a card old enough to be in the public domain, was a more common spelling in the early 20th century.

Around the time of World War II, the apostrophe version started its decline, with the non-apostrophe Halloween becoming more common by far since then. That leads me to the conclusion that apostrophe rationing during WWII inadvertently had a long-term impact. History is funny that way.

The last few days of October this year have been unusually pleasant. On Tuesday the 29th, for instance, I was able to dine al fresco in the afternoon quite comfortably. Yesterday, the 30th, it was still warm enough to sit on our deck in the evening in short sleeves, though the wind was up.

Halloween itself, following rain in the morning, was still windy, but a lot colder. That didn’t deter exactly 30 kids who came to our door for candy – about three-quarters of them before dark. We gave away full-sized Hershey products, which pleased the older kids especially, along with small bags of Utz pretzels, which no one commented on. I didn’t wear a costume for distribution, but I did put on my fez. It was a Christmas present from Jay some years ago, but there are sadly few occasions to wear it. I’d say Halloween or even Hallowe’en is one such.

Back on the October 19 (it was warm then, too), we spent at least an hour getting into, and wandering around, the Fine Arts Building at 410 S. Michigan Ave. Here it is, blocking the sun.Fine Arts Building Fine Arts Building Chicago

Like most vintage buildings, it began as something else: a factory and a showroom for Studebaker, when that company made carriages. The architect who designed it in 1885, Solon Beman (who did the Pullman company town too, among other things), did a redesign in 1898 when Studebaker left, thus creating a rather unusual office building. Since then, the Fine Arts Building has been just that, home to art galleries and artist studios, theater companies, publishers, dance and recording studios, musicians and musical instrument specialists, interior designers, and other arts-associated businesses.

For Open House Chicago, you can wander its long halls.Fine Arts Building

The current tenant directory makes for interesting reading, much more than almost any other office building: designers such as Doorways of Chicago; artists such as L.H. Selman, Ltd., Fine Glass Paperweights; performers such as the Chicago International Puppet Theater Festival; very specialized music shops such as Parke Mouthpiece Center, offering “professional brass mouthpieces for trumpet, trombone, horn, & tuba. Interchangeable rims, cups, backbores, tops, & underparts.”Fine Arts Building Chicago Fine Arts Building Chicago Fine Arts Building Chicago

Some of the businesses were open for the event.Fine Arts Building Chicago Fine Arts Building Chicago Fine Arts Building Chicago

The Fine Arts Building is of course going to feature art on its walls.Fine Arts Building Chicago Fine Arts Building Chicago Fine Arts Building Chicago

Plus a lot of fine old details, such as for the manually operated elevators – the only ones in Chicago, I’m told.Fine Arts Building Chicago Fine Arts Building Chicago Fine Arts Building Chicago

Can’t forget the mail chute.Fine Arts Building

That was it for Open House Chicago this year. Still as fine an event as ever, except for one thing: no paper guides and their useful area maps provided to eventgoers, which disappeared when the event was revived in 2021. Sure, they cost money to produce, but I seem to remember advertisements in them that might have offset costs somewhat, or maybe entirely. Just another small step on the road to further map illiteracy.

Next year, Open House New York? We shall see.

Cucumber Time

Rain early this morning and clouds all day, and fairly warm. In the afternoon, we paid a visit to a warehouse store. In the retail world, Halloween is just around the corner.

As Halloween décor goes, I’ll say they’re impressive, though I’m not in the market for any such ghoulish simulations. Not even the Werewolves of Schaumburg (a lesser-known follow-up to the Werewolves of London?).

They retail for about $200 and $250, though I can’t remember which one was for which price. They’re a bit animatronic. For instance, the werewolf’s jaw opens and closes.

I can’t vouch for the accuracy of this long sentence in the Wiki article about the Silly Season, but I like the term “Cucumber Time,” so I’m quoting it here.

“In many languages, the name for the silly season references cucumbers (more precisely: gherkins or pickled cucumbers). Komkommertijd in Dutch, Danish agurketid, Icelandic gúrkutíð, Norwegian agurktid (a piece of news is called agurknytt or agurknyhet, i.e.,  ‘cucumber news’), Czech okurková sezóna (‘pickle season’), Slovak uhorková sezóna, Polish Sezon ogórkowy, Hungarian uborkaszezon, and Hebrew עונת המלפפונים (onat ha’melafefonim, ‘season of the cucumbers’) all mean ‘cucumber time’ or ‘cucumber season.’ ”

Considering the fraught politics of our time, and the equally fraught – if somewhat more permanent – 24/7 news cycle, and the way people glue themselves to their hand-held boxes, I’m not sure the Silly Season is an active concept any more, whatever you call it. Either there is no such season specific to August any more, or it’s all Silly Season.

No matter, I’m taking a long break for the Silly Season. Once upon a time, I worked for a news organization that didn’t publish during the week before Labor Day, just like the week between Christmas and New Years, and it was a paid week, no less. I thought that was a fine company practice; but it didn’t last.

Back to posting around September 9, assuming I survive the Silly Season, and I’d say the actuaries would still be on my side in that matter. But who knows. The Yellowstone Caldera (say) might blow, ruining everyone’s end-of-summer plans.

Halloween Residue

Back to posting November 7. Got things to do.

One more pic from San Antonio for now. A Halloween inflatable I saw there last week. Much amused to see it.

Not bad staying power for a movie that came out nearly 40 years ago.

In Chicago, the week before, I saw this tableau, referencing lore older than a mere movie.

Three witches made partly from black paper. I assume they’re supposed to be witches. Why paper? The better to burn them, of course.

OLLU & Elmendorf Lake Park

Despite the cold, we had about 40 kids show up yesterday to collect sweets, maybe half again as many as the busiest Halloweens of the past, though I don’t count every year. We ran through an entire box of full-sized candy bars plus some other smaller confections. Almost all of the kids came before dark, which has been the case for many years now. Another example of widespread nervous parenting that’s pretty much entrenched, I figure. When I was that age, we went out after dark in our Invisible Pedestrian costumes and we liked it.

Most of the costumes this year were buried under coats, but I have to say the best of ’23 was a tallish kid in no coat and a white-and-red full-body chicken outfit, complete with a comb as prominent as Foghorn Leghorn’s. The costume might well have been warm enough for him to go without a coat. The color scheme reminded me of Chick-fil-A right away.

I’m just old enough to remember sometimes receiving baked goods and fruit on Halloween; those vanished by about 1970, victim of the lurid nonsense stories about razor blades in apples, poisoned cakes and chocolate Ex-Lax being given to kids. We found the thought of that last one pretty funny, actually.

This morning we woke to about an inch of snow destined to melt later in the day. A small preview of winter.

The cold is an unpleasant contrast to South Texas last week, where it was hot for October. (Temps have fallen there since then, I heard.) Just after noon on Saturday, I headed over to the campus of Our Lady of the Lake University, OLLU. I’d heard of the school for a long time, but my knowledge of it never rose above the level of hazy.

Main Building, the sign says. A name refreshing in its simplicity. The building’s a little more intricate.OLLU OLLU

Mere steps away is Sacred Heart Chapel.OLLU OLLU
OLLU

The school recently marked the chapel’s centennial. At your feet at the entrance, a date.OLLU

“The English Gothic chapel was the vision of Mother Florence Walter, Superior General of the Congregation of Divine Providence from 1886-1925,” says the university web site. “In 1895, she looked down from Prospect Hill at a swath of wilderness and declared, ‘One day we will have a chapel here. And its spires will be seen throughout the city of San Antonio.’ ”

That must have a good day for the superior general. Funding the chapel took 11 years, but eventually the Sisters, who had founded the school in 1895, were able to hire a renowned architect, Leo Dielman, to design the chapel. A prolific architect of sacred space – more than 100 churches to his credit – Dielmann had his funeral in 1969 at Sacred Heart Chapel.

When I went in, a funeral was going on. I gazed in for only a moment from the very back of the nave. Looked like this, except for the sacrament pictured.

OLLU borders Elmendorf Lake Park, with walking trails ringing a small manmade lake, created by the damming of Apache Creek. I took a walk. When the sun periodically came out from behind the clouds, it felt like it was about 90 F. It was a sweaty walk. Needed that hat I’d left in Illinois.

Thick foliage luxuriates on the lakeshore.Elmendorf Lake Park Elmendorf Lake Park Elmendorf Lake Park Elmendorf Lake Park

Almost no one else was around on what, compared with South Texas temps only a few weeks and months earlier, was merely a warm day. A Saturday at that. The place gave out no sense of being avoided out of fear for one’s person; just ignored. A few recreational fishermen stood on the shore, angling. One was in a small boat. That was all.

Another, more hard-surface part of the park includes benches. Parc Güell sorts of benches, but without the crowds.Elmendorf Lake Park Elmendorf Lake Park

No human crowds, that is. Birds were another matter. An astonishing number of birds occupied a handful of the trees in the park, ca-ca-ca-ca-ing with a resounding volume, especially on a small island I saw later is called Bird Island. Thinking on it, their Hitchcockian vibe might keep some people away. A lot of people.Elmendorf Lake Park Elmendorf Lake Park Elmendorf Lake Park

Birds looking something like herons with completely black plumage. I couldn’t place them, but my bird knowledge is pretty meager. Crows? They look leaner of build than crows. But what do I really know about crows?

I do know enough not to walk under them. A few of the bird-occupied trees were along the path of my walk, so I took minor detours to avoid any direct bombardment. I passed through the park without being the target of any droppings.Elmendorf Lake Park

I thought of a Red Skelton TV sketch featuring his characters, seagulls Gertrude and Heathcliff (I had to look the names up, but not that fact that he did those characters). One of the birds noted that the beach below was very crowded. The other responded, “There’s no sport in that.” Odd what sticks with you after more than 50 years.

Skulls & Bones & Things

Back to posting around Halloween. Speaking of which, this two-story skeleton can be found about a mile from my house. I’m not planning to get one for my yard.

Also, I’m not planning to watch or care about The Squid Game. Or is it The Octopus Meet? Hard to keep track of all the fashionable shows.

The Edgar Allan Poe Museum

Halloween snow today. Mid-morning.Halloween Snow

Mid-afternoon. Of course, it will melt in a day or two.

I’ve spent a fair number of Halloweens in the North; this is the first time snow has fallen. Cold rain, sometimes, but no snow. Sometimes warm fall days or blustery cool ones, like the Halloween of 2001, when Lilly was so unnerved by the dark and the strong winds while out trick-or-treating that she insisted that I carry her home. She wasn’t quite four, so it was possible — but tiring.

Speaking of Halloween, I’ve been listening to “Danse Macabre” lately.

In high school, I made the mistake of calling the piece “Halloween music” in front of my band director. He let me have it. It’s a tone poem! It’s serious music from France! It’s blah blah blah. Know what, Mr. W? I was right. It can be all those other things and Halloween music as well. Halloween as in spirits roaming our world before All Hallow’s, not the candy-gathering custom.

The last place we visited during the recent Virginia trip was the Edgar Allan Poe Museum in the Shockoe Bottom neighborhood of Richmond.

Poe Museum Richmond

A small, specialized museum not in a house that Poe lived in — one of the places he lived was a few blocks away, long demolished — but including a building that is suitably old. In fact, according to a plaque on the wall, the oldest house still standing in Richmond, the Ege House.

All in all, an interesting little museum. Ann thought so too. I found out things I didn’t know, such as that Poe was a gifted athlete at the University of Virginia. Also heard more about things I did know, such as that after Poe died, his enemy Rufus Griswold wrote damning and largely false accounts of the author — vestiges of which still cling to Poe.

The museum is essentially three rooms: Poe’s early life, which was haunted by Death; Poe’s literary career, which was informed by Death; and Poe’s early and mysterious death, which was literally about Death. Some of the artifacts were owned by Poe or his family, or were portraits of them. Other items evoked his life and literature.

Such as this marble-and-bronze memorial to Poe.

The sign says, “… Edwin Booth, on behalf of the actors of New York, presented this monument to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in 1885 in memory of Poe…” Eventually, I guess, the Met got tired of it, and it ended up in Richmond.

Or this bust of Pallas, a copy of a Roman sculpture. Can’t call yourself a Poe museum without that, though a depiction of Night’s Plutonian Shore would be good as well.

Poe himself in stone out in the garden.

The garden is a pretty little space. People get married there, apparently.

My own favorite item.

I haven’t seen The Raven, but a movie with Vincent Price and Peter Lorre and Boris Karloff and Jack Nicholson, directed by Roger Corman, who did a lot of Poe-inspired movies, has to be worth a look.

More October Scenes

Heavy rains today, but nothing like the Florida panhandle’s getting. Looks like heavy damage in the area.

I have some fond memories of the likes of Seaside and Apalachicola and Port St. Joe. I even think we stopped for lunch in Mexico Beach, which is where Michael’s eye came ashore today. That town is essentially a cluster of buildings along US 98 as it runs next to the ocean. Mexico Beach might not be there any more.

Here in the North, geese forage for food in the suburbs, making their noise and leaving their droppings.

Halloween decorations are going up. I haven’t spotted many inflatables, which is a welcome reversal of that trend. A deflating of it. Most of the decorations don’t involve lights, but there are a few on our block.

This particular house has always been decked out for Halloween, including the faux cemetery. The residents have never been inclined toward inflatables.

Halloween ’17

A chilly Halloween. That might account for the seemingly low numbers of kids coming by for candy. As of about 8 p.m., a total of 22. Or maybe that’s about the same as every recent year. I haven’t been counting. This year I decided to, just on a whim.

Ann did not go out. As far as I can tell, no high school kids came by — unless a couple of those tall(ish) skinny kids in one party were in high school, but I took them for junior high.

This is a good development. When we first moved here in the 2000s, high school kids used to show up. But if you’re in high school, you’re too old to trick-or-treat. If it were true 40 years ago, it should still be true.

This year I sprang for a box a full-sized candy bars to give away. A bulk box of Mars products, acquired at a warehouse store: Snickers, Milky Way, M&Ms (plain and peanut) and Twix. A little more expensive, but the leftovers are better. We got an audible reaction sometimes: as two girls walked away, I heard them both squeal, “Full sized!”

A moderately interesting selection of costumes was on display among the kids who came to the door. I didn’t recognize all of them.

“What was that movie, set in Hawaii, with an alien and a girl?” I asked Ann.

I think I took Lilly to see it when she was four. Or maybe we saw it on tape. Anyway, I couldn’t remember the title, but I remembered what the character looked like. I assumed Ann had seen it at some point. I was right.

Lilo and Stitch.”

“Right. That kid had a Stitch costume on, though the hood wasn’t up.”

The very first kid, a little boy of about three with his mother at the door, wore some kind of blue dinosaur outfit. At least the purple dinosaur seems to be dead and gone. (Or is he?) Years ago, 1998 or ’99 I think, a little kid in a strikingly full Teletubbies costume came to the door. I expect he’s a grown man now. I hope his parents took pictures of his foray into Teletubbie-ness to embarrass him occasionally.

Like I documented Lilly in her paper space armor, ca. 2001.

She didn’t actually wear that trick-or-treating, though she could have. If I remember right, it came folded up in a Japanese magazine. Unfold it and you have a cheap costume.

Later a somewhat older boy came by fully dressed as Flash. Other kids mostly wore head pieces for the desired effect: a pirate hat, mouse ears, a karate band, a flower crown and antlers — a nice array, but odd — and a girl in a zebra coat and… a pork pie hat?

I didn’t get a good look at it, but that was my impression. Maybe that’s just because I finished Breaking Bad not long ago. And I don’t remember any zebra coats in that show. Could be from a kid’s show I know nothing about. There’s an increasing number of those, and I don’t mind.

Thursday Natterings, But Not From Nabobs of Negativism

I woke the heater up yesterday from its summertime hibernation, mainly to see whether it would wake up and blow hot air, which is all I ask of it. Fortunately, the machine snapped to its single job without any complaint, such as some weird noise I don’t want to hear. The previous night had been quite cool, as they are starting to be, lowering the house temp to 69 F. My test took it up to 70 F. Normally I keep the house at 68 F. when it’s cold outside.

I saw the first Halloween decorations in the neighborhood the other day when walking the dog. It was a small faux cemetery in a front yard, featuring hand-painted sturdy cardboard (or cheap wood) tombstones. I don’t remember what any of them said.

Probably not Here Lies Les Moore. No Les, No Moore. I think I saw that in a Ripley’s Believe It Or Not collection years ago. That one I believe. Sounds like frontier humor to me.

Another remarkable collection of recent space photos from the Atlantic. As the intro notes, “We [as in, mankind] currently have spacecraft in orbit around the Sun, Venus, Earth, Mars, Ceres, a comet, Jupiter, and Saturn; two operational rovers on Mars; and a recent close flyby of Pluto.”

Closer to home, here are two signs I saw recently in Chicago.

That’s a little alarming. I can think of a lot better places to pass the future. The only future I want from McDougall’s are occasional breakfast sandwiches.

Dirt cheap, eh? And what do your beneficiaries get? Enough to pay for the dirt that covers you, maybe.

The last Weaver is gone. Fred Hellerman died recently, I just learned. Time then to listen to the re-union Weavers sing “Get Up and Go.”

One more thing: I don’t think I’ve ever seen olives packed this way before. A Trader Jose offering, as the package tells us.

olives

I opened them today at lunchtime. Not bad at all.

Halloween ’13

I can’t remember the last time it rained on Halloween, but today we had a fair amount. It finally slacked off in the late afternoon, and children and others emerged to collect sweets. Not as many as most years, but some. Lilly was out with friends, ignoring my opinion that she’s too old for it.

I took Ann out in the immediate neighborhood while she waited for a friend of hers to show up – they were going to some kind of park district spook-tacular or boo-nanza or something. She reported having fun at that, but I’m glad I didn’t have to take her. A little Halloween goes a long way.

Mostly she collected usual-suspect candies. In no particular order: Hershey bars, Nestle Crunch, Snickers, Kit Kats, Twizzlers, M&Ms, Twix, Tootsie Rolls and Pops, Butterfingers, Milky Ways, Whoppers, Dots, Milk Duds, Dum Dums, Take 5 and Jolly Rancher. There were a few oddities, such as Sour Face Twisters Bubble Gum, product of Mexico, and three flavors of small Tootsie Roll imitators, except they’re brick-shaped rather than rolls – Wild Cherry, Blue Raspberry, and Green Apple chews, all made in Brazil “by Riclan S/A for R.L. Albert & Son.”

A modest amount of looking around tells me Riclan is a confectionery company located in Rio Claro, in São Paulo state. R.L. Albert & Son is located in Stamford, Conn., and seems to specialize in making seasonal candies – or having them made off shore. The manufacturer didn’t short the product on brightly colored food colors, that’s for sure.

We gave away Romeo and Dreemy, two Aldi brands made in Germany. Aldi sells wonderful German chocolates, and those are two: coconut and nougat bars, respectively. I also insisted on giving away Smarties, despite mocking from my offspring. “No one likes Smarties,” Lilly said. “Oh, yeah?” I shot back. “At least a quarter of the people in this house do.”

Smarties and I go back 40+ years. And I’m happy to report that they’re made by the Smarties Candy Co. (until 2011 Ce De Candy Inc.) of New Jersey, not some secretive confectionery behemoth bent on world domination (and they know who they are). The candies are made in only two places. Smarties’ web site says that “Smarties are made 24 hours a day in two candy factories located in Union, New Jersey, and Newmarket, Ontario. The company produces billions of Smarties rolls each year.”