It doesn’t paint a thousand words, so that’s why you can’t paint me. ….or me you.
The Wonder Bread sign still lives!!! ….and we used to live under it – for about three years. The product it hawks hardly epitomizes something that should be in the heart of a place called Italian Village.
When looking at the apartment, the owner noticed me noticing the word ‘FAG’ spray painted on the side of the house. He claimed it was his ex getting back at him. I should have known better. Balls made of ice hit the door in the winter evenings when we were eating dinner or watching televison. And the same word that adorned the side wall eventually made its way to the bumper of my car. Though to be fair, it looked more like ‘FAC’. I’m assuming the hooligans who lived down the perpendicular alley did not got As in penmanship. Another failure of the public education system.
The apartment was ok – but I’m drawn to the area most times I pass through town, not that I always act on it. Add-ons and crappily built fences make the place look like than desirable.
No one ever seems to put away their trashcans after pick-up. No pride.
The place it self had some good memories: we got Tovah when we lived there. And Tom G and I watched the 1995 World Series together there too…..even though we lost that one. Becky making her oranges with cloves in them during one sparse holiday gift giving time. I’m sure there were other good times, but I’m blanking on what they might be.
Back to the image: Only about half the time we lived there did the sign work 100% of the time. More often than not, it read ‘Wonder B ad’ or ‘Wonder Br a ‘ or ‘Wonder B ead’ and my favourite, it sometimes even shined out ‘Wonder Br ad’.
I never remember the word ‘Wonder’ ever having burned out letters.
Song by: Bread (get it? get it???)