Sunday 3rd December 2017, 5.00pm (day 2,292)
Not an eventful day today (and don’t expect one tomorrow, either). It was either this pic of Gareth having a fag or some okra. The okra were cute, but let’s go with Gareth.
The weekend begins, not that it’s a very long one for me seeing as I have to work Sunday. So let’s ensure it begins in the right place — a pub serving very fine beer — and I doubt this one will move very far away from this and similar spots near home. There’s been enough travelling lately.
Not much was ever going to happen today. I put this one up in vague homage to this weekend’s Hebden Bridge ‘Steampunk Festival’, as for some reason lovers of this genre hang around HB this weekend looking vaguely Victorian and take photos of each other and admire lighting like this. Well, that seems to be how it works, though I guess I just do not understand it.
The Iron Post is a pub in Urbana. Many years ago — well, twelve anyway (in 2005) — this place saved our bacon on the 4th July when it was the only pub in the city that was open for food and drink. I also remember being here in 2006 and talking to this guy — he had a beard then — on the day that the state of Illinois passed the ordinance which forbade smoking inside any public building. It’s safe to say he wasn’t happy. He won’t remember me, but when I returned this evening for a beer and saw him sat in the far corner of the bar doing his books, or whatever it is, I recognised him.
And so ends the sixth full year of this blog. I set out to do one — I’ve done six. I may as well keep going, there are still things in the world worth depicting. Are you sticking with me? Good, let’s do some more.
This bar stands across the road from Carbondale’s Amtrak station and was therefore a suitable place to wait for my train back north. It seemed to be the kind of place where most of the clientele probably never went anywhere else — so I kind of liked it. PK’s stands for Pizza King, by the way — the matriarch who ran the place explained to me that they started out being the first people in Carbondale to open a pizza parlour, but when everyone else started doing it, they decided to turn it into a bar instead. Which must have been a good move, because apparently that shift took place fifty years ago.
Carbondale also gains for itself the distinction of being the 200th different identifiable location to appear on this blog. Thus, about every 11th shot on here is taken somewhere different, which is a decent amount of variety, I guess.
“Come to the football, son,” he said. “All the glamour and excitement of FC Halifax Town v Dover Athletic, playing out before your eyes. That’ll be better than a night on those silly video games, won’t it?”
I hope they both stayed until the end, anyway. 0-0 after 86 minutes: final score 2-1 to Dover. Enjoyable in the end but perhaps not for Halifax Town fans.
Returned to work today — albeit at home. Too long a day to spend entirely in the house sorting out a pile of email and draft student work however, so popped out for a drink in the afternoon, which is when I saw these two, doing the same thing and seemingly happy about it. (Was tough to get the camera focused on her face as opposed to the drinking straw, mind you.)