Discovering the ghosts of California and beyond, one road trip at a time.
It’s Day 3 of #AuthorMadness2026, and the Poetastic Two at The Six Degrees of Poe offered participants this prompt: “Highlight the wonderful aspects of writing you enjoy.” And so I offer these thousand words, in a picture:
In the argot of acting, this would be considered “method.”
It’s Day 2 of #AuthorMadness2026. And today’s prompt from The Six Degrees of Poe asks us to propose a toast to one of the characters in our recent books. Here’s my toast:
For many years I’ve avoided creating a Facebook page or an Instagram profile or a TikTok account. But that self-discipline ends today.
This is because the good people behind Six Degrees of Poe have designated this week as “Author Madness,” which plays off March Madness and highlights authors who have some connection to Edgar Allan Poe. Participants are supposed to post something each day on social media, which, in my case, necessitates creating a social media presence.
So, as you might expect from a Luddite like me, I’m doing the bare minimum here. I’ll be making the one requisite post each day this week, and I’ll be posting them on my spanking-new Instagram account. I’m also posting them on YouTube, and on this blog, which, as you might imagine, is more my comfort zone.
Anyway, check out today’s video, which highlights my recent short story, Poe’s Last Lament:
You may recall that last year I took an interest in the old Orbit gas stations that have somehow survived from the 1960s. My most recent Orbit-related post concerned an abandoned station near Lake Tahoe.
I mention all this because yesterday loyal reader Victor R. shared with us a news item about an old Orbit gas station in north Sacramento. It seems this Orbit station was built in 1963, and ceased operation as a gas station a scant 7 years later. Since that time it’s served various functions, most recently as a used car lot. But last year the car lot closed, and the building has sat vacant behind a fence topped with razor wire.
Vic shared a KCRA story about how the Sacramento Preservation Commission voted to recommend that the City Council place the station on the local historic register. Frustratingly, the news item only showed an aerial shot of the gas station. So I decided to head out to North Sacramento and get some ground-level photos for you, dear reader.
Even stripped of its gas pumps and signage, the structure is unmistakably an Orbit gas station. Here’s a photo I took by poking my camera through a gap in the surrounding fence:
But viewed from the street, the fence makes for an ugly tableau.
Still, the local residents spoke enthusiastically in favor of preserving the structure. “It’s got its own personality for sure; it’s got character,” stated one resident. “To have this go away would be a disservice to our community,” said another. A third noted “It reminds me of a flying saucer,” which, to be honest, it clearly does not. But there is something alien about it.
I think the point, though, is that residents in the area like the odd structure. Notably, while I visited today, it was clear that the neighborhood (which is dubbed “Gardenland,” not for any greenery, but because of its proximity to the Garden Highway) is struggling. Northgate Boulevard, on which this gas station sits, is lined with a depressing array of struggling fast-food eateries, grungy liquor stores, and predatory check-cashing businesses. I can see how a quirky retro-futuristic building might bring some much-needed whimsy and optimism to the area, particularly if it were repurposed as a community center or maybe a hip coffee shop.
So I’d encourage my Sacramento-based readers to let your Councilmember know that you support having this building designated a local historical landmark. Meanwhile, please send me any sightings of other Orbit stations.
Obelisk Corner
Faithful Reader Ron P. shared this photo of the Wellington Testimonial (which is evidently a fancy way of saying “monument”) in Phoenix Park, in Dublin (Ireland).
(New readers may want to check this post to understand this blog’s fixation with obelisks. It’s not what you think!) Anway, the Wellington Testimonial was erected (so to speak) in 1861, and it’s 203 feet tall, making it the tallest obelisk in all of Europe. As a point of reference, the Washington Monument is 555 feet tall, which I think handily proves the superiority of America.
In the good old days, by which I mean the days before Covid and Chat GPT and the subsequent, rapid disintegration of society, I was living in the Los Angeles area, where Karen and I would occasionally catch a show at the Hollywood Bowl. For me, this hundred-year-old amphitheater reflects many of LA’s best aspects: warm evenings outdoors, a vibrant entertainment industry, people dressed to the nines, and free popcorn brought to your seat during intermission.
On one of these occasions we saw the band Pink Martini, which is a quirky but virtuosic orchestra/big band from Portland. And they played a catchy number titled “Hey Eugene.” That song has been running through my mind all day. Because this morning I flew to Eugene, Oregon. And boy are my arms tired…
Eugene (pop: 176,000) is described by Wikipedia as having “a significant population of people in pursuit of alternative ideas and a large original hippie population.” Which explains the endless stream of vintage VW minibuses rattling along in the slow lane.
Anyway, I came here to meet son Ian B., who recently took up graduate studies at Oregon State University in the nearby town of Corvallis. Attentive readers may recall that Ian and Katelyn are expecting my first grandchild this June. So clearly, between school and fatherhood, Ian has decided to give up sleep for the next four or five years.
Normally I would like to make the trip to Oregon by car, but various factors conspired to prevent that option. I therefore took a Delta flight that routes through Sea-Tac, near the ancestral Boilard home in Tacoma, and terminates in Eugene. As my plane was approaching the airport I was thinking, “Hey, the weather out here is actually nice! What’s all this about Seattle always being perpetually grey and cloudy?” Then we descended from our cruising altitude and were enveloped in dismal, soul-sapping, Vitamin-D-blocking, depression-inducing cloud cover, and my thoughts immediately turned to melancholy.
Ian met me at the airport, and we drove to Corvallis (pop: 61,000), which Wikipedia helpfully notes is “the westernmost city in the contiguous 48 states with a population larger than 50,000.”
What with the weather and the limited time, we focused mainly on drinking beer. But we did manage to go on a “Corvallis Ghost Tour.” The number of ghosts we encountered was precisely zero. At least we got to see this cool 1888 courthouse, whose heating radiators reportedly make weird sounds. Surely the only explanation for old radiators making noise must involve the paranormal.
But the Corvallis building that excited me the most was this:
Did you spot the cause of my excitement? Let’s zoom in:
Alert readers will recall that I’ve made a minor study of these Golden Bear signs, which were affixed to countless alignment shops in the postwar era. Additional examples are here and here. To this list we can now add D&B Bear Service on NW 2nd Street in Corvallis. It’s an old-school, family-run auto shop, and the inside appears to look very much as it did during the Truman administration. The online reviews are stellar, so I recommend it to loyal readers in the Willamette Valley.
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And now, back by popular demand, we bring you the
Brew of the Day
The BOTD comes from Block 51, which is a local brewery in Corvallis. I ordered the Super Nebula, which is an imperial stout that’s been aged in bourbon barrels.
Sometimes these barrel-aged stouts can be cloying if they don’t properly balance the malty sweetness with a decent amount of hops. But you have to select the hops carefully, because the wrong kind of bitterness can destroy the bourbon notes. Meanwhile, a beer this dark and flavorful needs to have body, but not to the point of becoming syrupy. As you can see, creating a quality barrel-aged imperial stout requires lots of patience and nuance.
Fortunately, the good people at Block 51 were up to the task. The flavors come together wonderfully, benefiting from the addition of a judicious amount of cocoa nibs. The alcohol comes in at 13.8 percent, which is in the range of what you’d expect for an imperial stout without entering crazy territory like Bruery’s Chocolate Rain (18 percent) or even Firestone Walker’s Parabola (usually 14-point-something). In a word, I’d characterize Block 51’s effort as balanced.
The only thing I’d ding it for is the finish. After a nice, satisfying sip-and-swallow, there’s something missing. Interestingly, Block 51 also makes something called Super Nebula Valhalla, which includes cardamom, star anise, and juniper. I tried a sip of that and it seemed like there was a bit too much going on, but if they could maybe just add a little of that star anise to the regular Super Nebula, I think the finish would be better.
But this is a minor point. I recommend Block 51 and their Super Nebula. Get yourself a pint while you’re having your car aligned at D&B.
