They called him Dennis

This is hardly topical or really even applicable, but I took these pictures a while ago and since the ol' blog is kind of hurting for content at the moment, I thought I'd use them.

I feel like I could dedicate an entire blog to the empty storefronts and failed business ventures of my neighborhood. Rents are high and businesses are hard and so pretty much every week, something you walked by every day has disappeared.

Dennis' Place for Games was just like that. It was a real arcade in a time when real arcades aren't supposed to exist outside of a chain restaurant. And before I give the impression of nostalgia for the establishment, let me also say that it was super sketchy.

These signs are only a small sampling of the posted requirements to enter and inhabit Dennis' Place. Not long after I moved to the city, I noticed the place and thought to myself, "Cool, an arcade near my home." I walked in, took one lap around the place and walked right back out. It was not an inviting, warm or particularly safe-feeling place.

Also, they did not have Silent Scope.

Well, the citizens of Lakeview can rest easy once more. The former home of Dennis' Place for Games now sits vacant, ready to eventually become another weird business.

No, Mgmt. WE are sorry.

The word on the street is that Dennis' Place is the latest victim in Alderman Tom Tunney's "Clean Up Belmont" campaign. If that's the case, then mission partially accomplished.

Still, it always kind of makes me sad to see businesses fail. I'm sure someone started that place with the best of intentions and I'm sure that some people will miss it. When I see an empty storefront, I always wonder what happened to it. I'm sure it's very rarely the choice of the renter to shut down.

One storefront on Clark Street has been about 4 or 5 different things in the 2 years I've lived here. I vividly remember seeing a young girl, maybe college-age, painting her heart out and making it into a cute little accessories shop that I'm sure she had been dreaming of opening for a long time.

It lasted maybe 3 months.

It's a head shop now. And inexplicably, those never close.

Tagged, you're it.

I've never been much for chain letters or any sort of 'pass-it-along' type endeavor, but this isn't threatening to kill me or ruin my life, so I'll do it. Also, Lynette told me too and I can't let her down. I mean, we cohosted 'Powdered Toast of the Town' on KDCS. That kind of bond can't be broken or denied.

Here's the game I'm apparently playing:
123 Meme Rules: (1) Pick up the nearest book of 123 pages or more. No cheating! (2) Turn to page 123. (3) Find the first 5 sentences. (4) Post the next 3 sentences. (5) Tag 5 people.

As you can see by the accompanying picture, I'm in a bit of a Klosterman phase at the moment. So this is from Chuck Klosterman IV: A Decade of Curious People and Dangerous Ideas.

"Bats Day began in 1998. At the time, it was just an excuse to be weird. A few regulars from Hollywood goth clubs like Helter Skelter and Perversion decided to drop acid and walk around Disneyland on a summer afternoon."

A strangely coherent set of sentences from an excellent article.

I'll tag my brother, Matt Larsen, Scott, Tara and Emeric, just because I want to see what kind of boring legal crap he'll have to write.

Hooray for silly Internet games that lead to easy blog posts!