Bud... if he hasn't rallied by the weekend...

My honestly trusted and soul fused best friend of 21 years is in day five of being very sick.

I'm lucky enough to be able to have a Veterinarian who will come to me. After two heroic, way after hours visits, blood work and urine tests show remarkably good shaped heart, lungs, kidneys, liver and spine. Elevated White Blood Cells made the Doc hunt for tumors last night. He found a swollen right side of Buds back mouth. He prescribed steroid for a shot of life, appetite stimulant, and continued fluids injections daily, antibiotic, nausea mender and vitamin dose. That's one injection with a needle and a drip bag, 4 pills and a dropper in the mouth that Bud and I are living through the last five days. Production remains at full tilt. I steal home to him whenever possible. Doc, Bud and I reassess daily. Tomorrow may bring his turn to spiral upwards.

When all the world is a hopeless jumble

And the raindrops tumble all around

Heaven opens a magic lane

When all the clouds darken up the skyway

There's a rainbow highway to be found

Leading from your window pane

To a place behind the sun

Just a step beyond the rain

"SOMEWHERE OVER THE RAINBOW" - lyrics by EH Harburg and music by Harold Arlen

Rest in peace - 630 S. Wabash

It was one of those buildings that I've kept my eye on over the years...

I figured it was a time capsule on the inside.

It was 6 stories tall and over 100 years old.

630 South Wabash Avenue sat empty at the Hiltons back door, on Wabash, and before this afternoon, it was ripe for condo conversion. Its brick shit-house facade seemed thankful for the small fortune of ancient red iron fire escape that climbed the street side of the building. Formerly "cold storage" on the upper floors, George Diamonds Steak House thrived on the street level in the 30's through the 80's. Best steak house in the city from the 30's through the 60's they say. Whoever they are. 630 South Wabash is protected as a Historical Landmark. And yet, it sat empty. Until this afternoon. 250 firefighters descended upon old 630 South Wabash.

Today I parked my car and snapped photographs of it burning itself into an inferno... CBS News says it's a five alarm blaze. That's 250 firefighters on the scene. Highest alarm possible. Traffic in my neighborhood ceased to move. Gridlock. Traffic controllers, in their day-glow green slickers, had even less than normal clues how to manage the rush hour madness. Doomsday does not look good for Streets And Sanitations version of traffic management.

What would George say?

R.I.P. 630

10.24.06