Six weeks ago, when Rob and I went to NYC, our friend Jon kindly indulged me in one of my weird pop-culture whims and we drove to the house whose exterior passed for Archie Bunker's house in Queens.
When I saw it, the house and the neighborhood were almost too nice for Archie, it didn't seem right. But it was dark, and we dutifully took photos and moved along. Only when we were able to compare our own photos with Web evidence did we realize: Yep, that was really the house. Gee, our old LaSalle ran great.