Thing 32 -- Google Maps and Mashups

This map traces the walks I did from my childhood home to the schools that I attended. I found photos of each spot on the street level Google maps as well, and put them at each site. It was frustrating because the map kept speeding away from me--reason unknown. It was relatively easy to do the bits and pieces with practice, although I am unclear how effective the map will be in the blog. Each time I tried to paste the html directly into the post, it crashed Internet explorer. (Yes, I know other browsers are friendlier, but I share this computer with my family.) I tried doing it as a gadget, but realized that wouldn't be directly in the post. So I am trying this way (pasted into the post) and we will see what happens. Other frustrations--the descriptions of spots must shift into html, and apostrophes left odd code. So I went back and rewrote to avoid the odd characters popping in. Just in case there are issues with the map, I made the title a hot link to the Google Map site as well.

I think these mashups could be quite useful if you were doing a scavenger hunt, a walking tour or a family gathering. But I really don't see much practical application for me at work. Still, you never know. I'm using other stuff I didn't think I would need either. Isn't that the point of this program? :-)


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Rust Belt Blues

I wrote this poem a number of years ago, after a visit to my hometown in Pennsylvania. Given the state of the economy right now, and the fact that I saw a national news story about a town across the river from where I grew up, I thought it appropriate to the times.



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Rust Belt Blues

Train tracks go in, out.
The rusting fortress of a factory
darkens the sky.

In its shadow
The old Italian men in sleeveless T-shirts
and black lace-up oxfords
Collect in metal yard chairs
Behind backyard wire fences,
Drinking Iron City and playing bocce.
Contained within their kitchens
Their aproned wives hum —
stir, simmer, soothe —
Providers of earthly sustenance.
“No one should leave my house hungry.”
But I have left and returned,
Hungry still.

Poking sticks into sidewalk cracks,
Children line the crumbling curbs.
Grubby, grimy, bickering,
They are ready at an instant
To issue or accept the challenge.
Running downhill until
Lungs and legs give out —
They collapse at the curb, resuming their endless vigil.
My body remembers, doubles over,
Sharing that sensation,
Boredom alternating with breathless intensity.

The local gas station describes my life here —
My relationship with this place — STOP-N-GO.
I pay the clerk in the plexiglass box,
A grade school class mate
Who doesn’t even register my credit card name.
His practiced hand avoids all touch,
Drops the card in mine.
We held hands to NASA launches
In the TV room of our old school
Whose windows now stare like haunted eyes.
Shattered and abandoned,
His eyes, too, are vacant.

I hear peripheral echoes,
Shadows upon shadows.
Hometown.





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Back in the original 23 things, I found a collection of photos of my hometown which I linked to then. Here's a link to the collection:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/tags/theghosttownofnewkensington/

It helps explain things.