James Lileks’ Bleat for today is an emotionally-draining account of a visit to a nursing home. In it, though, he says:

I don’t get it. If I designed a nursing home, I’d stock the library with old movies and copies of old mags, pipe swing and 30s jazz through the speakers, put up photos of Bogart and Bacall, and let everyone marinate in the age when they were limber and hale. Why not? What better way to tell people they’d best shuffle off to Buffalo then to plop them in this unmoored moment where none of their culture has survived?