FUBAR

A shuttered nightclub in midtown with a shattered city flag. The name is an acronym that I think dates from World War II. The last three letters stand for "beyond any recognition."

I am so out of material. This is the coldest week of the winter here so far. Now, no comments from you people in Canada or Minnesota or Scandinavia or wherever. We're just sitting here in the middle of the country, neither north or south. By the weekend the forecast is for -8 F / -22 C. I get more and more cold intolerant as I grow older. Maybe I can hook up my camera to a periscope out of the top of my car.             

FUBAR

Another late post. Same thing happened last night as Wednesday night. Two weeks off in September. I can't wait.

This is a bar and music venue. The posters tell us what kind of bands perform at the place with the fractured St. Louis city flag in the window.

If you are not familiar with it, FUBAR is an acronym coined by the U.S. Army in World War II. The last three letters stand for "beyond any recognition."            

Beyond The Fringe

Night in midtown St. Louis, the area where the Fringe was held: Locust Street looking east from Theresa; Triumph Grill, where Olive Street and Lindell Boulevard split apart; and bands booked at Fubar, one of the Fringe's performance venues. A bit post-apocalyptic. Hey, it ain't Paris but it's home.

Take That! Department: last night Mrs. C and I attended a performance of a new work at Opera Theatre of St. Louis, 27. It is set at 27 rue de Fleurus, (speaking of) Paris, where Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas lived and held their salons for decades. In one scene, Ernest Hemmingway (who came onstage dragging a fake dead rhino) and F. Scott Fitzgerald (who came onstage pulling an elaborate drinks cart) are demanding that Stein declare which one of them is a genius. Man Ray is hanging around taking pictures. Eventually he tries to get some attention, too. Stein stares him down and declares You are not a genius. You are a photographer. Ouch!