Up on the roof, there was a row of concrete finials. The West Texas plains stretched out down below, flat as a board. The wind was really blowing, so I kept a tight grip on my camera, afraid it'd get yanked out of my hands.

That's the elevator machine room. I was half-hoping the relays and wires would spark and sizzle to life, and the old hotel would light up, the brightest thing for a thousand flat miles. On the roof of the hotel were a couple microwave antennas. They looked like vanilla ice cream cones. A while back, the City of Plainview tried to track down the owners of the antennas. It involved all sorts of detective work. Finally, they found out that a company rents the space from a couple lawyers in Lubbock. The hotel may be worthless as a hotel, but it turns out that it's pretty profitable as a pedestal for microwave antennas.

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