They light them up so much as a safety measure. Not just for planes, where they have the blinking light, but so people illegally climbing the cranes can be seen. Same reason they light up worksites. People are horrible and wonderful all at the same time.
I love the lighted cranes. We can see four of them from our house. It reminds me of the old days, when downtown had a lot of buildings with rooftop signs or big flashy marquees. The Seattle Good Taste Police (their motto is "Beige Forever!") put an end to that, but most of them are dead, so maybe it's time for a comeback.
If one is unhappy about them, maybe one needs to invest in some draperies? I have a coupon from Penney's they could use.
Anon, This is the burr under your saddle? Wow, I am envious of the apparent Buddha-like tranquility of your existence, such that a tower crane moves you to complaint. I love living in a city with tower cranes, garishly lit.
Suggested poetry reading: City of Big Shoulders, Carl Sandburg, 1916.
They light them up so much as a safety measure. Not just for planes, where they have the blinking light, but so people illegally climbing the cranes can be seen. Same reason they light up worksites. People are horrible and wonderful all at the same time.
Leave regular house Christmas lights out of your bitch-fest, Scrooge.
Killing birds? Explain.
I love the lighted cranes. We can see four of them from our house. It reminds me of the old days, when downtown had a lot of buildings with rooftop signs or big flashy marquees. The Seattle Good Taste Police (their motto is "Beige Forever!") put an end to that, but most of them are dead, so maybe it's time for a comeback.
If one is unhappy about them, maybe one needs to invest in some draperies? I have a coupon from Penney's they could use.
Anon, This is the burr under your saddle? Wow, I am envious of the apparent Buddha-like tranquility of your existence, such that a tower crane moves you to complaint. I love living in a city with tower cranes, garishly lit.
Suggested poetry reading: City of Big Shoulders, Carl Sandburg, 1916.
Corporate awareness? Really?