The mind springs to …
… to this shot of the ‘umbella’ statue (?) in Invercargill’s Don Street.
It has curves, so it’s legal for the Challenge. I hope. Anyway, the camera doctored the shot so don’t blame me … and if all else fails, the student-type damsel en passant at the time has curves too. So there.
But the real gritty is this next shot—nary a curve to observe, not unless you look long enough to convert a peep into a peer and think to yourself: “What the heck is ol’ Argie on about this time?”
As well you might.
Here, try it—
—as we all know (or used to know) a chain is simply 22 yards. So three chains is some 66 yards, or around that many Argus paces. So Argus being of sound mind and morbid disposition, paced out the distance in parallel with north and stuff and in the end calculated that the good John Kelly died—no doubt surrounded by his nearest and dearest—right in the middle of the Reading Cinema—
—behind that squarish notice thingy in the middle of the snap, and behind those concrete walls. Do people sitting in the darkness therein watching the cavalry thundering over the hill whilst chomping popcorn and stuff—ever feel just a little cold, or unseasonally chilly, sometimes?
Brrr … and the shot is legal, it does have a curve; hidden in full view. Go look, seek and ye shall find etc. Now whilst on spookies—
Wow! Is that a real curve-ball, or what? Sixty-five bucks a ticket to hear some glib speaker probing the gullible for a couple of hours …
“Is there anyone there? … … Is there … wait … yes, yes, I can feel someone now … you, yes you, aisle fifteen seat 11 … yes you, Madame~! You’re sitting right on John Kelly’s face! Move along a bit please, show some respect … wot? Oh, not a problem, he died a hundred and sixty years ago and he’s actually quite grateful for the company—Hey! Come back!”
Dammit. I could almost be convinced …
And now, the real spirits—Southland’s biggest newspaper, The Southland Times, has finally shut up shop in the premises it’s occupied for about a hundred and umpty years in Esk Street; and has moved (Monday) to a squeakin’ new place in what was formerly the Don Street car park. Here below is their old place—
—which apparently does have spirits. Don’t fret it, all old theatres and newspaper places have spirits … this particular one is a phantom bottle of tequila, reputed to have been concealed decades ago by a reporter and never seen since (not that anyone ever (hic~!) admitted it …).
Off to your left is the Kelvin Hotel, and the Times tells us that when the Rolling Stones stayed there decades ago they were so incensed at their lousy review in the paper that they pelted the Times building from their room with empty beer bottles. New Zealand wasn’t ready for their sound at the time and still thought beatles crawled out of woodwork.
Current myth here is that there will be a new hotel going in where the historic building now is; and the news team gallantly wish the wreckers every joy in finding those missing spirits. Generations of news staff have tried without success — perhaps they should call in ol’ Kelvin?
Oh, yes … curved window arches …