Update 3/4/10: After further consideration, I've decided that I erred in the use of Ms. Vance-Kuss's photo. For that I apologize. I do, however, stand by my comments about the practice they depicted.
Update: Ms. Vance-Kuss has responded to my commentary here.

I came across this Flickr post and this accompanying photograph by way of a LifeHacker mention, and soon became pretty horrified at what I saw. A "clever" photographer/collector named Jacki Vance-Kuss had found troves of old Kodachrome slides and decided it'd be neat-o to make a curtain out of them and hang them over her windows. Ms. Vance-Kuss gives us an example of her handiwork in this photo which she has shared with the world via Flickr, Makezine, and Lifehacker.

I've bought and found such troves as well, though not nearly as many as I wish. I enjoy them for not only their imagery, but also for their potential historic value. In a pile of images, you simply never know when you might be the owner of an important clue that would solve a mystery, end a controversy, or simply give inspiration in my daily work as a designer.

Hanging them out in the sun, as this Ms. Vance-Kuss proposes, may seem cute and fun, but before too long, the practice destroys the image forever. I'm happy to admit that this might seem like a good, cheap way to simulate the effects of a stained glass window, but it's easily accomplished with your own roll of slides exposed to mundane images in your own back yard.

So, people, please, if you come across a pile of old photos and/or slides, and you don't want them or would like to see them in the hands who might really appreciate them for what they are, by all means, send them along to me. I will take care of them and put them to good use.

Read the thread here.

Allow me to take this opportunity to wish all the members of RoadsideOnline a happy holiday season. We've had a very good year rebuilding the brand, so to speak. Longtime readers have returned, new readers continue to discover us, and some old friends of Roadside have come back to contribute. We've not only welcomed back Teri Dunn to our masthead, but I'm happy to say that Bruce Voge III has proved himself a worthwhile addition to this effort. In the coming year, we can all look forward to contributions from Thom Ring, Doug Smith, and even more.

It remains my goal to make Roadside the preeminent online source of back-roads preservation and sustainable living information found anywhere on the Net. Yes, I of course know that you already have hundreds of other sources for bits and pieces of this information out there, but I continue to soldier on with this concept for one very simple reason: No one else does this right. No other site properly threads together the basic ideas of good living, preservation, sustainability, and cultural whimsy all in one place. No one else connects the dots.

New London, Connecticut in 2002: Yet another historic New England downtown awaiting a proper revival.

Here’s my theory on why towns and cities fail: At the first sign of decline, as the tax base begins to shrink, and as these cities increasingly become wards of their respective states, the truly intelligent and productive people that grew up there leave as soon as they can. Most of the time, they have little choice as better opportunities lie elsewhere. Those with lesser abilities, lower ambitions, and fewer opportunities stay behind to muddle along. They advance or get elected to positions, establishing connections with others in this mediocrity that allow them to develop a power base, and they run the show with a combination of chronic ignorance, grim determination, and cynical ineptitude.

In other words, show me a municipality going absolutely nowhere, and I’ll show you a city hall run by dopes.

Eighty percent of everything that has ever been built in America has been built in the last fifty years, and most of it is depressing, brutal, ugly, and spiritually degrading---the jive-plastic commuter tract home wastelands, the Potemkin village shopping plazas with their vast parking lagoons, the lego-block hotel complexes, the "gourmet-mansardic" junk-food joints, the Orwellian office "parks" featuring buildings sheathed in the same reflective glass as the sunglasses worn by chain-gang guards, the particle-board garden apartments rising up in every meadow and cornfield, the freeway loops around every big and little city with their clusters of discount merchandise marts, the whole destructive, wasteful, toxic, agoraphobia-inducing spectacle and politicians proudly call "growth."

James Howard Kunstler

In terms of its diners, Connecticut is a true study in contrasts. It hosts some of the oldest and newest operating diners in the country. Diner hunters will find two of the oldest at the northern end of the Naugatuck Valley, in Winsted and in Torrington.

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Both Skee's Diner and the Winsted Diner made news in the past few years. The Winsted, a 1920s era Tierney suffered a near catastrophic fire in December, 2005 while its owner Bob Radocchio had it on the market. Despite its condition, the property did attract Jean Bauer, who moved in and refurbished the diner's severely damaged interior, replacing many of the surfaces with tongue-in-groove paneling, which actually enhances its Jazz Age charm. Jean tells Roadside that despite the economy and the competition, she's holding her own and she still sees Bob come in for a meal on a regular basis. And yes, she still makes the ra doc a doodle sandwich.