Still there, but now with attractive blue netting to keep parts of the building they're chiseling off from falling on cars and pedestrians. Gee, that's nice of them. You know, I wish there was a word to sum up how I feel whenever I walk by the McGuire. It's a strange combination of derision, an irresistible urge to mock the place, and overwhelming pity. Have the Germans invented a term for what I feel? They're so good at identifying baser human emotions. I mean, even the Chinese use the word Schadenfreude in everyday conversation. Before the Germans named it, it was known as "being a crappy person." This emotional combo that the McGuire inspires in me does pack pity along, so I consider it more noble than your garden-variety Schadenfreude. For lack of a better German word, let's call it demopity. Yeah, that could be a word. That's how I feel about the McGuire.
Some hopeless optimist hung this sign up:
As I've said in the past: if the exterior of the place is so poorly constructed that it needs a scaffold and a chisel-wielding dwarf army to fix it, just think about the interior. Honestly, who would want to live here? What's the sales team's slogan now? "You'll love our solidly-constructed scaffold, but you'll stay for the attractive blue netting." Yeah, perfect.
If you're a current resident of the McGuire, you have my demopity.
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