Uploads from anyjazz65, tagged ruin

Out to pasture.

nobody@flickr.com (anyjazz65) — Sat, 26 Apr 2008 17:16:40 -0700

anyjazz65 posted a photo:

Where do fire engines go to die?

The doorbell doesn't work. You'll have to knock.

nobody@flickr.com (anyjazz65) — Thu, 20 Mar 2008 15:22:34 -0700

anyjazz65 posted a photo:

“If you’re ever out my way, stop by,” he said, knowing it was an empty invitation.

“I’ll sure do that,” she said, not meaning it at all.

But he waited. The days and nights closed in on him until his last breath slipped out between the moon and the howl of a coyote. “Life is too short,” he thought, as transparency overtook him. “Life is too…”

She remembered him between ticks of the tall clock in the hall. And then she forgot.

Come in. Come in.

nobody@flickr.com (anyjazz65) — Sat, 28 May 2011 15:13:20 -0700

anyjazz65 posted a photo:

I'm sorry. There's no place to sit.

Spots on the wall

nobody@flickr.com (anyjazz65) — Sat, 21 May 2011 12:23:27 -0700

anyjazz65 posted a photo:

Counting flowers on the wall,
That don't bother me at all.
Playing Solitaire till dawn,
With a deck of fifty-one.
Smoking cigarettes and watching Captain Kangaroo.
Now, don't tell me I've nothing to do.
-(Eric Heatherly)

Where motorcycles go

nobody@flickr.com (anyjazz65) — Thu, 21 Apr 2011 04:35:52 -0700

anyjazz65 posted a photo:

to die.

Signs of our times, and other times too.

nobody@flickr.com (anyjazz65) — Tue, 04 May 2010 07:17:39 -0700

anyjazz65 posted a photo:

Whatever it is,
I'm against it.
(Groucho Marx)

Never no more

nobody@flickr.com (anyjazz65) — Tue, 04 May 2010 07:15:55 -0700

anyjazz65 posted a photo:

You must remember this
A kiss is just a kiss;
The fundamental things apply
As time goes by.

What is this?
Closest I can find is a 1977 Mazda and that's probably not it.

I want my MTV

nobody@flickr.com (anyjazz65) — Sat, 18 Aug 2007 18:39:09 -0700

anyjazz65 posted a photo:

A dish and an antenna. Priorities.

This stands just in front of the Hollister wall about where the chickens would be in this picture.

Update: (see below) Dj.earley who lived in this house in the early nineties has added some information about this location.

Rust never sleeps.

nobody@flickr.com (anyjazz65) — Tue, 26 Jun 2007 14:03:53 -0700

anyjazz65 posted a photo:

We returned to the scene. A closer examination leaves us convinced that it is (was) a printing press. The obvious weight of the object is the reason it is still sitting here, rusting away in a burned out building.
See the whole building here

Lord, Mr. Ford...

nobody@flickr.com (anyjazz65) — Sat, 16 Dec 2006 11:35:23 -0800

anyjazz65 posted a photo:

LORD, MR. FORD
(Dick Feller)
Jerry Reed - 1973

Well, if you're one of the millions who own one of them gas drinking, piston clinking,
air polluting, smoke belching, four wheeled buggies from Detroit City, then pay attention;
I'm about to sing your song son.

Well, I'm not a man appointed judge
To bear ill-will and hold a grudge
But I think it's time I said me a few choice words
All about that demon automobile
A metal box with the polyglass wheel
The end result to the dream of Henry Ford
Well, I've got a car that's mine alone
That me and the finance company own
A ready made pile of manufactured grief
And if I ain't out of gas in the pouring rain
I'm a-changing a flat in a hurricane
I once spent three days lost on a cloverleaf
Well, it ain't just the smoke and the traffic jam
That makes me the bitter fool I am
But this four wheel buggy is a-dollaring me to death
For gas and oils and fluids and grease
And wires and tires and anti-freeze
And them accessories, well honey that's something else
Well, you can get a stereo tape and a color tv
Get a backseat bar and reclining seats
And just pay once a month, like you do your rent
Well, I figured it up and over a period of time
This four thousand dollar car of mine
Costs fourteen thousand dollars and ninety-nine cents
Well, now Lord Mr. Ford, I just wish that you could see
What your simple horseless carriage has become
Well, it seems your contribution to man
To say the least, got a little out of hand
Well, Lord Mr. Ford, what have you done

Now the average American father and mother
Own one whole car and half another
And I bet that half a car is a trick to drive, don't you?
But the thing that amazes me I guess
Is the way we measure a man's success
By the kind of an automobile he can afford to buy
Well now, red light, green light, traffic cop
Right turn, no turn, must turn, stop
Get out the credit card honey, we're out of gas
Well, now all the car's placed end to end
Would reach to the moon and back again
And there'd probably be some fool pull out to pass
Well now, how I yearn for the good old days
Without that carbon monoxide haze
A-hanging over the roar of the interstate
Well, if the Lord that made the moon and stars
Would have meant for me and you to have cars
He'd have seen that we was all born with a parking space
Lord Mr. Ford, I just wish that you could see
What your simple horseless carriage has become
Well, it seems your contribution to man
To say the least, got a little out of hand
Well, Lord Mr. Ford, what have you done
Come away with me Lucille
In my smoking, choking automobile

Hey, buddy you got a flat...

nobody@flickr.com (anyjazz65) — Fri, 10 Nov 2006 10:46:00 -0800

anyjazz65 posted a photo:

A road less travelled. Or perhaps not at all.

Can you guess this one? Yeah? What makes you think so? I can only see one thing to pin it down... do you see it?

Nature wins.

nobody@flickr.com (anyjazz65) — Fri, 13 Oct 2006 16:41:40 -0700

anyjazz65 posted a photo:

Humans are ruthless, formidable foes...but they are no match for the Ultimate Warrior.

Nature has one weapon that we do not have: time.