We used to live down the road from a lightbulb store called “Lightbulbs Unlimited.” In Los Angeles. The shop had an illuminated sign. Naturally, of course . . . it was a lightbulb store. But for seven years, the shopkeepers never replaced the dead bulbs in their sign.
So for the entire time we lived in L.A., the name we’d see across the door at night was “Lightbulbs Unl.” Irony or paradox?
No disrespect to Spenger’s because I imagine that by now, they’ve fixed their missing neon. And even if they haven’t, I’m sure they won’t wait seven years. And — they’re not a lightbulb store, so they can be excused.
I just couldn’t help but think of Lightbulbs Unl when we passed under the Spenger’s marquee. On a rainy Berkeley night. Blissful. We need the rain. Even if it keeps me from photographing the Wolf Moon.
That’s all today. Sentimental attachment to broken neon and a long ago life.
