I agree with this article. I worked downtown in the 80’s and the tunnel system was a vibrant addition – to a great extent it was the best thing downtown. It was full of restaurants and little shops and gave office drones access to parks such as Thanksgiving Square. Lately, I had a Writing Marathon downtown in some cold weather and I wished the tunnel system was still intact. With the cold in winter (the freezing wind whips around those big buildings in a wind tunnel effect strong enough to lift you off our feet) and especially the killer heat in summer the tunnels give a welcome respite. The underground can be viewed as an addition or an extension of a vibrant street life, not as a detriment.
The hinged writing surface dropped down on the secretary.
Here are the 13 films SNL parodied, that won Razzies, and that everyone completely overlooked as critical gems…except for the fact that, not only are they not bad, but some of them are downright good. Give ’em another go. They deserve it.
When you come around one certain spot in the White Rock Lake trail you pass a band of trees that line the water’s edge. There are a number of very large birds (I know nothing of what they are) that are always hanging out in these certain trees. I don’t know if it is the location or the species of trees that attracts these birds – but they are always there and I don’t see them anywhere else.
The amount of bird shit is distressing. The caustic guano kills everything. I even think there is so much nitrogen that it is killing the trees themselves. I know bird shit is a fertilizer and should help the plants…. but everything is a remedy and a poison – it all depends on the dose.
The birds must live off of fresh water fish that they catch by diving from their lofty perch. In addition to the usual acrid smell of shit – there is an overpowering fishy odor.
“hark, now hear the sailors cry,
smell the sea, and feel the sky
let your soul & spirit fly, into the mystic…”
― Van Morrison
“Where lies the final harbor, whence we unmoor no more? In what rapt ether sails the world, of which the weariest will never weary? Where is the foundling’s father hidden? Our souls are like those orphans whose unwedded mothers die in bearing them: the secret of our paternity lies in their grave, and we must there to learn it.”
― Herman Melville, Moby Dick
I wanted some Chihuly Wallpaper for my computer at work, so on the last week of last year I went down to the Arboretum for the end of the exhibit and took another photograph of the boats full of glass on the infinity pool. I added a little Photoshop to disguise the transition from the pool to White Rock Lake.
Click on the image for the full-sized version.
Chihuly Boats full of glass at the Dallas Arboretum. White Rock Lake in the background.