The Boat in Alley and Other Perplexities

The things that show up in our alley aren't typically blog worthy. It's mostly garbage, discarded furniture, and the occasional pile of construction waste. We live in a transitional neighborhood, with lots of tenants and lots of turnover. It's not uncommon to see what's likely the entire contents of someone's apartment stacked in the alley and around the dumpsters. This is understandable. People without a lot of financial resources or a strong support network often have to make tough choices, and make them quickly. If circumstances compel one to abandon the contents of an apartment and travel light for life's next act, that's what you do. The landlord and the collection agency will sort out the rest.

That said, there's a boat in our alley.

It's not a boat-on-a-trailer-boat, and it's not a canoe-leaned-up-against-someone's-garage-boat. It's an honest-to-God-derelict-vessel of the the 12ft power boat variety, a good two miles from any sort of navigable water.

While I'm sure someone knows this boat's story, it's a mystery ship to me. It showed up one day in the parking lot of a nearby apartment complex and has since drifted to the alley proper. It sits there now, collecting its own strain of urban flotsam, jetsam and lagan.

At first I was indignant about the boat ("What is wrong with people?"), but now I kind of like it. It's grown on me and come to represent both a communal curio and a shared experience among neighbors. It's the sort of oddity that makes our little corner of the world what it is.

I don't think I'm alone in this sympathetic stance either. The boat in the alley strikes me as exactly the kind of thing our own James Thurber would have written about had he stumbled across it. In its sad state it becomes the perfect metaphor for every difficult journey. It came from somewhere, it's here now, and it's going to wind up somewhere else. That it's broken and woefully out of place only serves to make the story even more compelling.

Comments

The Ohio Historical Center: A Defense

A couple weeks ago I was contacted by Carrie Ghose at Business First to share my thoughts on architecture in central Ohio. The recent controversy surrounding the new Student Union at Ohio State had apparently sparked a number of conversations regarding what constitutes "good" building design. Carrie was following that story , and developing a second piece to get feedback on other notable Columbus buildings. At the time I offered a staunch a defense of what I believe might be the most maligned and misunderstood building in central Ohio, the Ohio Historical Center. Business First wasn't able to run the whole piece, so I've decided to turn it into a blog post. photo courtesy of OHS/ www.ohiomemory.org The refrain is a as old as the building itself, "It's ugly. It's just a giant brown box. It doesn't even look like a museum". Sadly, it's that exact line of thinking that poses the greatest threat to the building Architectural Record referre...

Hashtag WIP

After spending much of the last six months negotiating work, planning for work, talking about work, scheduling work, rescheduling work, and waiting for weather that might accommodate work, I'm happy to report that work has commenced. The Akron almost mansion has recently enjoyed the fruits of many a laborer, and the results are becoming almost photogenic. So, in no particular order, here is an update of what's happened since my last post. A wooden door with a crystal doorknob is pictured against a light blue wall. We have removed more wallpaper. This picture is from an upstairs bedroom and is notable as that means all the wallpaper on the first floor has been removed. I like the color and composition here, and offer this as a good example of how most of the interior rooms were handled. Trim throughout the house is painted that creamy white, and all interior doors have maintained their original finish. Remember pals, these houses are only original once. A pink bathroom sink hang...

Either that wallpaper goes, or I do...

I mentioned in my previous post that our Akron almost-mansion was built in 1925 by Akron entrepreneur and wallpaper baron W.D. Turner. And while we appreciate that Mr. Turner was willing to put his money where his house is, the wallpaper selections he made those 100-odd years ago will likely not be accompanying the home into its next century. A hole cut in the wall shows off our brand new PEX plumbing supply lines as well as 2.25 square feet of wallpaper that won't have to be removed. Win. Win. So, we continue to remove wallpaper. It's slow going, messy, and not particularly glamorous. Favoring the "kitchen sink" approach, we're tossing everything at the removal process. That includes steam, scoring, fabric softener, more steam, sharp objects, still more steam, and good old elbow grease. With a bit of perseverance, we've got two rooms done and maybe three to go. I know I said this work wasn't glamorous, but I do like how the window, the diagonal light, ...

On Summit

Search This Blog