Maybe she and El Casbah have catfights in the middle of the night. I don’t know.

The other side of Jayhawk Hotel proclaims “Air-Conditioned Rooms,” and that’s got to be tough. One can only be so sexy when talking about air-conditioning. But number one or not, I love the “Jayhawk Hotel.”

This enormous metal sign came into our lives back in 1993; right before our wedding and right after we’d bought a place in Chicago with sign-ready walls. We were visiting Greg’s parents in Kansas City and though we normally drove that trip, we had flown.

So when we found this Midwestern beauty leaning against a wall in a Lawrence antique mall and could not get her home, we did what any sensible young people would do; we rented a van to drive it back. Back in Chicago, we had to practically rivet it to the tiny sun room wall of our first place.

She presided over our first real married dinner at home; over a few early, disastrous dinner party attempts (smoke alarms, undercooked meat, overflowing disposal) and later, over several vastly more successful post-culinary school dinners. She enjoyed having company.

We both worked long crazy hours in 1993. Opening the door to the words “JAYHAWK” and, even better, “GOOD FOOD” never failed to lift tired spirits.

When we moved to Lawrence a few years later, it was a homecoming of sorts for the old girl. I can’t tell you how many people came through our house and said “oh, I remember the Jayhawk hotel,” or “I used to pass that place all the time!”

Here’s what I know about the Jayhawk Hotel (aka Hotel Jayhawk):

Built in downtown Topeka in 1925 (it’s no longer a hotel) the building is now on the National Register of Historic Places. Topeka is the capital city, and a Kansas history site notes that “when the legislature was in session, the hotel swirled with political intrigue.” Intrigue!

The hotel register boasts visiting celebrities like Groucho Marx, Bing Crosby, Roy Rogers and Dale Evans.

As if swingin’ Bing wasn’t enough, the hotel was also apparently a popular place for proms and glittering rooftop parties. A few people recall that if it wasn’t too sweltering, you could dance with your sweetheart to a live orchestra under the stars. Take that, El Casbah!

She’s seen some action, this girl. She’s properly rusted. So what if she doesn’t wear the crown?

This sensible, solid beauty keeps her secrets.

And that’s what we’ve been up to. We’re now down to the big ones, the ones that have been patiently leaning in crates and boxes against the wall, envious of settled furniture and waiting for their moment.

Now it’s here, and since we have an unswerving devotion to giant vintage signs, believe me – they carry a lot of weight in more ways than one.

Here, Dan and Greg size up where to hang one of our favorites, a huge metal sign for the “El Casbah” room in Kansas City. It was a birthday present for me years ago from Greg, though it was clearly the object of both our desires. My birthday provided a convenient excuse to make it ours.

The “El Casbah” room was a lively and well-known Kansas City nightclub of the 50′s and 60′s, in the long-gone Hotel Bellerive at Armour & Warwick. That’s Kansas City, Missour-ah.

It must have been wonderful to drink and dance and dress up there, when people did those things.

It was quite the thing to be seen at El Casbah.

When we first saw this, it was hanging in the window of a now-defunct antique shop in Ottawa, Kansas, between dusty mannequins and glass knick-knacks. We rescued it. It was the humane thing to do.

It has many rough and rusted holes, and they’re beautiful – that’s what you get for hanging around an exterior brick hotel wall for 30 years or more.

How many people walked or drove past this sign? How many gray-suited, hat-wearing, well-meaning men went home and asked their wives, “Honey, do you want to go out to the Casbah some night?”

With this hanging in our home, life is romantic and glamorous.

Well, sort of.