Smells Like Capitol Spirit

Peter Korn of the Portland Tribune called me last week in his engaging efforts to create a Urban Weird Index. Apparently Portland (Oregon) is trying to "Keep Portland Weird" -- and the story makes a case it's doing a good job.

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.

I overnighted in Frankfort once, waking early and was stunned to find at 9:02am I was the second tourist to visit that day. At least I was the first to fake like I was speaking at an official Kentucky podium (above).

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.