Robert Pence

Perhaps it's grandfathered? That feature wasn't uncommon in Indiana in the nineteenth century and probably into the early 20th, and I wouldn't be suprised if it was used in Ohio, too. I can think of a few buildings I've seen that still have it; there's one on the main street in Portland, Indiana, or was a few years ago, and I've seen several others in my small-town photo excursions. One in Pennville that originally was a hospital extends far out over the sidewalk, and I suspect once there may have been a driveway pull-in where the sidewalk is now. I've seen old photos of buildings in Fort Wayne that were built that way, including some hotels and a Pythian building. It probably was intended to provide shelter for people alighting from carriages to enter the buildings, with the upper-level porch to provide a pleasant outdoor sitting area for guests of a facility that didn't have space for a lawn or courtyard (back when cities were dense :wink:)

... not exclusively the province of females, or of gay males, for that matter.

Ever since my visit to Youngstown in 2008, I've felt an affinity toward the city. I've experienced the same feeling with Johnstown, Pennsylvania. Both once were thriving steelmaking cities, dirty, sooty, smelly, and noisy, but bursting with vitality. There's something I sensed in walking around, especially in the back streets and neighborhoods - it's rather as if all that energy still manifests itself in some way, stifled and frustrated and yearning to breathe again.

Fat-free foods! When you buy a box of fat-free cookies, you might as well throw away the cookies and eat the box; at least it's supposed to taste like cardboard. Fat-free chicken broth! Yuck! When I was a kid, we used to cull out the old hens that weren't productive layers, and butcher them and freeze them for winter meals. This usually was done in a sort of assembly line where we'd put up as many as a couple dozen chickens in an afternoon. My job was plunging the dead chickens into a kettle of scalding water to make the feathers come off easily, and then plucking the feathers. Fat-free chicken broth always smells like that kettle and those wet chicken feathers. The fat is what gives broth its flavor, and it's damned difficult to find any broth in a grocery store that hasn't had the fat removed.

Small, perhaps, but gorgeous scenes. It looks like a relaxing day.

Proceed with caution. Some older electronic flashes have very high trigger voltages, and they can damage the electronics in DSLRs or even in non-digital cameras that have electronic shutters. For example, I have Vivitar 283 from 1979. It still works well, and it really lights things up. Pre-DSLR, I used it on a Nikon FM. When one of my fingers strayed across the extrernal-flash contact on my camera body, I got an unpleasant bite. I put a voltmeter across the terminals, and learned why they called it "283;" that's the voltage across the trigger terminals. I'm glad I learned that before I used it with my Mamiya 7; although that's a rangefinder, roll-film camera, it has an electronic shutter that could have suffered damage. I can't use the flash on a hot shoe on any newer camera because of the direct connection, but I was able to buy an in-line adapter for a remote flash cord. It wasn't expensive, and seems to work OK. I think even the later versions of the 283 have that protection built-in, and use a lower trigger voltage. Voltmeters are inexpensive. I suggest you use one to determine the trigger voltage on your flash.

Great tour. Buffalo has some handsome neighborhoods and civic structures.

It's frustrating that, aside from a PSA test indicating a possible prostate problem, I don't think there are any generally-recognized tests short of a biopsy of suspect tissue to specifically indicate cancer. I read in someone's news letter, maybe Sloan-Kettering's with their fundraising materials, that a couple of tests are being evaluated and show some promise. In 1996 local doctors wrote me off as being too far advanced for any known effective treatment, and through some on-line research and an assist from an oncologist I obtained a referral to the Center for Advanced Medicine at University of Chicago Hospitals as a clinical trial candidate. There, among the extensive tests I needed were a brain scan and a bone scan. If either one had shown cancer, it would have been "game over." Because those scans came back negative they accepted me for a trial and said they would consider their procedure a success if I survived two years. They placed my chances of that at <5%. Six hours in the operating room, lots of radiation, and literally gallons of chemo left me with a bothersome speech impairment and some other inconveniences, but I was able to go back to full-time work for four years until I could retire normally and I'm still alive and able to spend a day walking around with a camera or a couple of hours wielding a snow shovel. I try to not get too cocky, because that's how one sets himself up for a big fall, but I do make it a point every year to send a nice Christmas card to the local otolaryngologist (that word's a lot to swallow :wink:) who gave me the very short doomsday prognosis fifteen years ago. Oh. Did I mention that I'm also very good at passive-aggressive? :-D

In the case of this rig, a sh!t-load comes to 150 bushels. Obviously a semi trailer would hold more. The weight of any given sh!t-load depends on the ratio of sh!t to straw and the moisture content; sh!t-ton is strictly a measure of weight and is approximately equal to 2,000 pounds but in practice is highly subject to exaggeration. :speech: :speech:

Flood prone? Really? You don't say!

It grows some between here and there. At the confluence in downtown Fort Wayne, I've actually scraped mud with my canoe paddle in the narrow channel that flowed in dry summer weather. The photo links to more Toledo shots on my web site.

I love reporters' profound, insighful statements; "This sort of thing is not supposed to happen."

Fixed that for you. :-D Some unique buildings that are sadly underutilized, and those typically w-i-i-i-i-i-i-de midwestern small-town main streets.

Great photo. I see a strong family resemblance.

Neat! It's hard for me to get used to "Macy's" though. For the first several decades of my life, as Marshall Field it was an iconic symbol of the Loop.

Number one critical attribute of a "playa" is a talent for reading people, sensing vulnerability, and knowing what will get people to like/trust/desire him. It's what they have in common with scammers, swindlers, and con artists, and often an individual with that talent will exercise it in more than one of those pursuits.

Interesting - not what most Hoosiers think of when someone says "New Jersey."

Gorgeous photos, and the mistiness and hoarfrost give some of them an other-worldly feel. This one is magical: For all the beauty, though, I fail to understand why anyone who can afford a warm house or apartment would choose to spend hours out in the cold like that! :wink:

I just took another look, and noticed for the first time that the streetlights are gas lights! I like.

Thanks for another excellent tour!

... and because I rent through a management company, as long as possible I try to keep the renters from finding out that the old guy next door is their landlord. Not only do I sometimes learn useful things that way, but it helps avoid renters knocking on my door on Sunday night to complain about a leaking faucet in the bathroom. They're supposed to report those to the management company; that's what I pay a commission for. It also avoids drive-by prospective renters from knocking on my door for an impromptu tour of the house, and the management company is much more thorough and hard-nosed about credit reports, background checks, and prior-landlord references than I could be.

Don't get all worked up over it; you're not that old. Quit trying so hard, and you might improve your chances of meeting Mr. Right. Meanwhile, concentrate on being good company for yourself. After quite a few false starts and ill-starred "relationships," I've concluded that affairs are better; the only pitfall to affairs is that sometimes they try to morph into relationships, and that can ruin them. I've decided that I'm better company than many of the men I've gotten involved with; I may be "boring" by some people's standards, but I'm never bored. I'm reliable, I'm sober and free of addictions, I don't cheat or lie, I'm not physically, mentally, or verbally abusive, I don't wantonly break stuff, I seldom yell, I'm not jealous or possessive or manipulative, I stayed employed in real jobs with good pay and benefits, saved money and invested, and in retirement I still don't spend beyond my income. Problem is, in thirty-odd years of trying I never was able to figure out why I got involved with so many men who failed at most or all of the above. I'm always busy and I enjoy most of what I do.

My rental property sits on a lot only 12 feet wider than the house, with a small setback and a small yard. My reasons for mowing the grass myself: 1. Many renters are idiots. The rental doesn't have a garage or storage shed, and there's no room on the lot for either. I don't trust a renter to not blow up the house with gasoline stored in the basement, and I don't want them banging up the place bringing the mower up the basement steps. Outside storage, as in chained on the porch, could get me a neighborhood code citation and $75 fine. It would fall on me as property owner, and I'd have difficulty collecting it from the renter. 2. In the past when I agreed to let tenants do lawn care in return for a few bucks off the rent, after a month, at most, the novelty wore off and it didn't get done. I ended up doing it anyway, and got an awful bitch-fight when I tried to adjust the rent accordingly. Again, letting it go unmowed could get me a code citation. 3. One year I hired a guy. He wasn't one of the high-dollar landscape-maintenance guys with the fancy trucks and machinery, just a reliable, handy guy with an old truck who takes care of properties for absentee landlords and banks/lenders holding foreclosures. It cost me $60/month for work I can accomplish with about two hours work/month. Thirty dollars an hour is a pretty good wage for a retiree. 4. See #1 regarding many renters = idiots. I won't provide an electric mower because I'm reasonably confident they'd either destroy the mower or cut the cord to ribbons and electrocute themselves and/or start a fire repairing it incompetently, or all of the above. It's a very decent house, and high in my priority list is trying to keep renters from destroying it. Also high priority is protecting myself as much as possible from liability. 5. I live next door.