
I chipped in that smells make things weird too.
Which of course is a natural segway to one of my favorite attractions, state capitols.
I always go out of my way to visit one. I find the cute, unnecessary tension between city/building nomenclature irresistible (capital/capitol), plus they're often the nicest building in a state and no one else really goes.
In Lincoln's capitol -- called the 'penis of the prairies' for its distinctive architecture -- I accidentally walked between a camera and Nebraska Senator Bob Kerrey during an interview. In Carson City, I asked two guards if they wouldn't mind 'sketching the capitol.' 'I have a collection,' I fibbed -- it was my first of a grand total of two staff-made capitol sketches. The older guy shook his head, 'No. We have no time.' I looked up and down the visitor-free, empty halls, then asked the younger guard. 'Would you?' He nodded. 'Sure.' Then he spent 15 careful minutes tracing an image of it from a brochure, as his veteran co-guard watched on silently. I used to have it framed on my wall. Now, tragically, it's lost.

The gold-domed capitol in Des Moines (right) has the usual historic murals and a sense of grandeur, but an entirely new smell: fried chicken. A basement cafe was cooking up some that day, and I'm guessing legislators broke for lunch early.
Still, that struck me as kinda weird.
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