Don't now how I missed it all these years, but today, as I stood at the intersection of Ninth and 42nd, this sign hit my eyes like a bullet.
The sign just reeks of "Lost Weekend" and "Taxi Driver" and every other film every made of the seedy side of New York City. The old Pepsi logo, the block-lettered "Hotel," the sign small of it and the fact it swings forlornly in the wind—all beautiful. The hotel in question is the Elk Hotel, a flophouse. The sign hangs on the Eighth Avenue side, and one has to imagine it's there for drunks trying to getting to their room who can't figure out why somebody moved the door. Oh, I just love the sign. Love it, love it.