When I first started getting so much attention I thought I was going to be repaired. I thought, "Finally -- new neon. No more rust." When more and more people were coming up onto the roof I figured something was up. Maybe the president is on his way to see me, or U2 was going to do a rooftop concert in my shadow. Then I saw all the cameras, the posing and a few tears between hugs of condolence. I overheard snippets of conversation and questions wondering what was going to happen to the globe.
I felt bad. I knew I wasn't the gleaming beauty I used to be. I assumed I was going to be dismantled and replaced by a brand-new modern symbol. Then I learned it wasn't about me, it was about the business. I went from feeling bad to worse. I wished I could break away somehow and roll through the streets with a rallying cry for help.Now the globe has found a voice, I am glad to have its full support in my effort to keep the globe here in Seattle:
The company I've been a mascot for all these years is evolving, although nobody seems to know to what extent. In addition to the worry of job loss, there is also concern for my welfare. I truly do appreciate the attention, especially from the folks who have actually gone to the trouble to petition for my residency to remain in Seattle.
I do so want to stay here. Seattle is my home. I was born here from an idea and created by people whose workmanship is in itself a lost art form.The globe also supports my idea of moving itself to the Seattle Art Museum's Olympic Sculpture Park or the Museum of History and Industry:
I wouldn't mind living on in a museum, and don't you think for one second that I haven't noticed that Olympic Sculpture Park -- I think I could serve some sort of visceral purpose there for sure.
Please keep me here. I want to continue to be looked at and admired for the piece of artistic history that I am. Put me on display. What else am I going to do? I can't dance. I can't sing. I can't blog.Read the globe's full impassioned plea. Click here!