..................................
I'm not picking on New York City. I promise I'm not.
Because I also have a certain "Corn Palace" to critique one of these days, so you folks up in the middle northern part of the continent are not immune to Palace Puppy, Non-Architect!
I suppose this will shock you, but here it is:
I like this building! A lot!
I've heard of "The Flatiron Building", we do get newspapers 'round these parts. Finished in 1902, one site says that New Yorkers were afraid it would topple right over.
Well....hell yeah! It could've!
But it didn't.
It was designed by Daniel Burnham and what I like most is that it's named what it looks like. A flat iron.
Oddly (oh hell, you won't think it's odd if you've read me so far), I assumed (before now) that the building simply housed the factory.
You know: the Flat Iron Factory. (I have a Black & Decker Iron. It does not come with a drill or other power tools but trust me, Black & Decker could've made it so it did! They chose not to.)
Just one thing, okay? Just one little Palace Puppy observation.
It's the epitome of a phallic symbol. 
...............................
I had a very short military career.
I was working two jobs, taking classes and being wife-mother when I realized I wanted to be one of the Blue Angels pilots.
(Also the airshow had been in town recently.)
Who knew you could join the military online??
Furthermore, we had WebTV at the time and there were not so many websites to peruse as there are now....but there is no excuse for what I did.
I joined the Navy. I put in my information and let me tell you: at the time, there was no specific question regarding marriage and children!
But I did lie about my age. I didn't think a thirty-something would get picked to be a Blue Angel pilot. I figured: lie now, impress them later and they'll forgive. They're only human! Who can resist the Palace Puppy?
I filled out a questionnaire that was alarmingly lengthy. I gave my views on all things, I offered myself up to the Navy with all my little heart. (By the way: I chose the Blue Angels over the Thunderbirds for one reason only: I felt "Blue Angels" was more fitting for my, well, personality.)
The phone calls began that very day. It was the actual Navy. They wanted to talk to the twenty-one year old nurse who had written to join them in war and airshows.
My husband took the first call and of course he knew. Of course. Because he was silent and looked at me, receiver to ear, and just shook his head.
Let's just say this was not the first time I had made a life-altering decision without consulting him. But this was a bigger deal than putting green rather than yellow curtains in the Master Bath, I knew that.
Eventually I had to talk to the people. I was so sure I could finesse it but the man said, "Do you realize you were fradulant on government information?" and I just froze. I pictured me at Leavenworth, forever, stuck with being some other gal's bitch. Not a Blue Angel at all, but just another orange-jumpsuit-wearing low-life.
I can't really remember how it ended. It was very upsetting. I told friends and family, "Well, it seems I have unwittingly joined the Navy...."
There was nothing unwitting about it. I wanted to fly with the Blue Angels.
As it happened, I was not even accepted.
Go figure.
_______________________________
____________________
