Which Of These Do You Like Best? (Art On Wheels, Part Sixteen)

In my late 20s, I moved to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA for employment reasons. I knew little about the city when I deposited myself there, but almost immediately developed a fondness for my new home. I liked the very old buildings that heavily populated, and still populate, many neighborhoods. And I liked the city’s parks, museums, music venues, record stores, and movie theaters. Hell, there wasn’t much about Philadelphia I didn’t like. And now, approximately 50 years later, my admiration for The City Of Brotherly Love is on an even higher plane than it was during my newbie days. That’s because, to cite a few factors, its restaurant scene has become world-class, its cultural offerings have expanded, and various parts of town have changed for the better.

I lived in Philadelphia for the first 30 of those 50 years. But then, for reasons we maybe didn’t think through properly, my wife Sandy and I made the “leap” to the burbs.  The burbs are okay, but I sure as shit ain’t in love with them. It’s a good thing that Philadelphia isn’t far away, for I can’t resist its call. I pay the city a visit two to five times each month, chowing down and drinking in taverns and restaurants, taking long walks, attending concerts, going to museums, etc., etc. There’s absolutely no doubt I’ll be a Philly aficionado till the day I no longer qualify for inclusion in the Among The Living category.

All of the above is a longwinded lead-up to a recounting of one of my recent adventures in the city I know better than any other. That activity took place two Fridays ago, a day that boasted clear skies and reasonable temperatures. I arrived in downtown Philadelphia in late morning, via the train I’d boarded in my little town. I was in the city to search for and photograph excellently decorated trucks, vans, buses, and other objects mounted on wheels. (“Huh? You were there to do what? Neil, you truly are a f*cking oddball,” I just heard one of this publication’s readers mutter. Oh yeah? Well, I’ll let that possibly inaccurate remark slide.) And so, after emerging from the train station I spent two and a half hours pounding the pavement in central and near-to-central sections of the city. And I met with good success, the result of which is the story you’re now reading. Namely, the sixteenth installment of Art On Wheels, a series I began eight years ago.

On the day in question, I snapped portraits of 18 wheeled objects, which very well might be my personal high. Following post-trek examinations of the photographs, I’ve selected six specimens that ring my bell loudly. I’d have included a certain Philadelphia tour bus and a certain food-supply truck among the six were it not for the fact that, as I later discovered, their images appear in previous editions of Art On Wheels. My half dozen choices are displayed on this page.

Which of them do you like best? My two favorites are the halal food cart and the Windstar bus. The food cart is an eye-popper, no? So many colors. Such vibrancy. I spotted it at the corner of 9th and Chestnut Streets, three blocks west of Philadelphia’s famed and historic Independence Hall. If I’d had any sense, I would have placed an order at the cart. I’m sure its offerings are delicious.

As I snapped its picture, the Windstar bus (Windstar is a charter bus company) was turning from Chestnut Street, where a few seconds earlier it had glided past Independence Hall, onto Fifth Street. I liked its artwork but wasn’t knocked out by it. However, when examining the Windstar photo on subsequent days, I found myself increasingly admiring the simplicity of the vehicle’s painted design and the way the undulating red and blue lines seem to imply that fun-filled, free-flowing times lie ahead. Windstar, I now am under your spell. I award you my top vote.

Well, folks, that’s a wrap. Thanks for reading this opus. Let me remind you to mind your Ps and Qs. And please don’t let the bed bugs bite. Till next time!

Which Of These Is Your Favorite? (Art On Wheels, Part Fifteen)

When I gave birth to Yeah, Another Blogger in April 2015, I had no idea that two years later I would begin a project that would please the heck out of me and to which I’d return, and write about, time after time. Well, as we all know, life is full of surprises, to say the f*cking least. So, much to my amazement, here I am, about to report on the latest episode — the fifteenth — of said ongoing project: Art On Wheels. And I’m hoping that numerous Art On Wheels adventures await me, taking me, at minimum, into the mid-or-late 2030s. I’ll be jumping for joy if things turn out that way, assuming I’m still among the living. Of course, it would be miraculous if I’m able to bounce even half an inch off the ground at that point, as I’d be pushing or exceeding age 90. Still, half an inch is better than nothing. Or so I’m told.

Here’s the lowdown: Art On Wheels escapades find me searching for beautifully decorated wheeled vehicles, photographing them, and then presenting some of those photos, and my wobbly thoughts, on this publication’s pages. I used to track down my subjects by driving all over the frigging place in the suburbs of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA. In recent years, though, I’ve gone into Philadelphia itself, whose streets I explore strictly on foot. I love walking and I love Philadelphia. On the other hand, I don’t love driving and I don’t love Philly’s burbs, even though that’s where I reside. Thus, Art On Wheels has become even more fun for me than it initially was.

Friday, the 18th of April, dawned peacefully, because Donald Trump hadn’t started in on causing further mayhem just yet. At 9:36 AM I boarded a train in my little town and rode it into Philly. I spent the next three hours pounding the pavement in the center of the city and in neighborhoods to its east and north. When I called it quits, I had racked up six miles of walking, a distance that’s near my upper limit of physical capabilities.

The search for worthy subjects bore less fruit than on any of my previous Philadelphia treks. But I found a few beauties, such as an Urban Village Brewing Company van, its exterior illustrated as snazzily as can be, and a Heineken beer truck, which is a vision in green. The design layouts on Sysco and on Philly Greens rang my bell too.

I was impressed the most, however, by a wheeled object that not only brought me up short but also made me realize I’d never before considered including a certain genre of art in Art On Wheels. Namely, sculpture. The beauty in question, a piece of heavy equipment manufactured by the Caterpillar company, was outside the front door, in Philadelphia’s Old City section, of what once housed the Painted Bride Art Center, a world-class presenter of music, dance and theater from the 1970s through the early 2000s. (Painted Bride still exists, in a different part of town, but is a pathetic shadow of its former self. Barely any shows take place at its new location.) Dig the incredible mosaics, by Isaiah Zagar, that cover the vacant building. Man, I went to dozens and dozens of performances in this venue. I miss it a whole lot.

I’m not sure why the Caterpillar product was there, but it absolutely rocks. For one thing, I’m down with the gold and black color scheme. Mainly, though, I’m taken with the heft of the structure and its efficient angularity, which bring to mind a mutant beetle possessing one hell of a giant pincer. This big guy would not be out of place in a museum’s or other institution’s modern-sculpture garden. Do you agree with me that it is #1, or is another of the wheeled constructions your favorite?

As I type this ending paragraph, I’m already looking forward to my next Art On Wheels expedition. Most likely it will take place in autumn of this year. I wouldn’t be surprised if it will be an eye opener, just as this most recent installment, thanks to Caterpillar, proved to be.

I Have My Favorites, How About You? (Art On Wheels, Part Fourteen)

On the final Monday morning of this year’s penultimate month, I boarded a train in my sleepy suburban town. One hour later it deposited me in Jefferson Station, smack in the heart of The City Of Brotherly Love: Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA. After exiting the station, I walked one block north on 10th Street, entering Chinatown, one of my favorite Philadelphia neighborhoods. My mission — to wander around the city, photographing well-adorned vehicles that cross my path — seemed to be off to an auspicious start, for I soon spotted a magnificently decorated truck, one belonging to the Rosenberger’s dairy company. Whipping out my phone, I took the truck’s picture, figuring there was a good chance it would be the best-looking vehicle I’d see all day.

Well, as it turned out, things slowed down considerably after that. I saw only eight more commendable wheeled objects during the two and a half hours I spent pounding the streets, at least five or six fewer conveyances than I was expecting. What’s more, a look into my blog’s archives two days later showed me that Rosenberger’s, and another top-tier truck I encountered that Monday, had made previous appearances in Art On Wheels installments. My policy is to exclude previously presented vehicles, so those two are outta here. Ouch!  . . . their loss pains me. One day I may need to rethink said policy. In any event, I’ve given some thought to the seven remaining transports, and have chosen the five I favor most. Their photos reside on this page.

Which of the five do you like best? My top picks are Freda Deli Meats (see above) and Office Basics (see below). Freda’s bold colors are balanced carefully. They reach out and grab you, but don’t slap you too hard upside your head or upside any other part of your body. Hell, you’d have grounds for a lawsuit otherwise. And I’m impressed by the asymmetry of the Freda canvas, its righthand portion extending a couple of feet below the rest of the design. That’s a sophisticated touch you don’t see too often on vehicle art.

As for Office Basics, I find myself almost mesmerized by its stoic presence. Its artwork proves that perfectly positioned concise shapes, and a limited palette, are all that’s needed sometimes. I have a hard time choosing between Office Basics and Freda. However, if some motherf*cker were holding a gun to my head and ordering me to make a decision, or else, Office Basics it would be. Sorry, Freda, that’s life.

I’ll say a bit more before being on my way, starting with this: My visit to Philadelphia took me far and wide. By no means was I only in Chinatown. According to my phone’s Health app, I totaled six miles of walking. And I did so with just a couple of brief pauses, so focused was I on trying to locate art that sits above wheels. I tell you, I am extremely thankful that I’m still able to carry on like this, seeing that I’m distressingly close to being old as dirt. My Art On Wheels ventures, and other long walks I indulge in, help to keep my spirits up and fulfill my need for adventure.

Finally, I’ll add that I’m amazed by the unpredictable nature of the Art On Wheels expeditions. I never know what I’ll find around the next corner or on the block straight ahead of me. These jaunts are treasure hunts. They are fun games, and a healthy way in which to spend some hours. I now have done my Art On Wheels thing 14 times, and haven’t begun to tire of it in the least.

Art On Wheels, Part Thirteen: Which Of These Are Your Faves?

When, in September 2017, I published my first Art On Wheels essay, I doubt if I’d have guessed I’d still be tracking down artistically decorated vehicles nearly seven years later. But I am. Why? Because after my second or third expedition in search of same, I knew for certain that I get big kicks from the endeavor. It’s fun. And, even though your correspondent is older than f*cking dirt, having fun remains high on his These Are Important Aspects Of Life list.

And so, on the final morning of April 2024, I found myself in the center of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA, having been transported there by a commuter train I’d boarded in my suburban-Philadelphia town. The hunt was on. Based on past experience, I was confident that a large number of excellently adorned trucks, vans and other wheeled assemblages were out there. The question, as always, was how many would cross paths with me. I was hoping for at least ten.

Well, I walked and walked and walked, covering about five miles of territory. In the two and one quarter hours I was on the street, I aimed my phone’s camera at 16 wheeled objects and then snapped their portraits. I enjoyed pretty much every minute of the treasure hunt. The fact that the adventure took place in a fascinating locale sure didn’t hurt. Believe me, I know I’ve oohed and aahed about Philadelphia time and time again in Yeah, Another Blogger. But I just can’t help myself, as this city truly has got what it takes. Philly is a winning combination of the old and the new and the in-between, of the chic and the stately and the funky. Plus, the sections of Philadelphia I traversed that day were popping with people whose collective energy rocked the air. I was in my element.

Now, all of the 16 wheeled subjects looked fine to me. While caught up in the excitement of the chase, however, I wasn’t precisely sure which were the standouts. Since then, though, I’ve examined and graded the vehicles, using the photos I took, and have whittled down the 16 selections to my top five. I have no idea how the 11 omitted carriers are able to make their presence known right now, but I hear them cussing at me. “Up yours, Neil! We deserve to be included in your story!” they just shouted in unison. I understand their pain and frustration. I empathize. Nonetheless, here’s what I have to say to them: “Tough shit, guys! Deal with it!”

Although my five faves are displayed on this page, I now will limit my commentary to the two that, in my book, tie as the gold-medal winners. No offense, of course, to the trucks promoting JDog junk removal and hauling, Surfside Iced Tea + Vodka, and White Claw Hard Seltzer. They look very cool, but I feel they don’t quite reach the heights achieved by the graffiti-covered truck and by the Tea Around Town bus.

The graffitied wonder struck a major chord with me the moment I spied it in Philadelphia’s historic district. The truck was parked about one block from where Benjamin Franklin, one of the USA’s so-called Founding Fathers, lived. I can’t get enough of its composition’s controlled wildness. The design is an invitation to visit, mentally, unusual realms. Seeing that voyages not of the ordinary appeal to me, I’ve accepted the invitation several times. The resultant trips, short though they were, delighted me.

As for the Tea Around Town bus, my eyes opened wide when I spotted it on a block near Rittenhouse Square, one of Philly’s finest neighborhood parks. I’d never seen this behemoth before. My best guess is that Tea Around Town is a new business venture. A quick look at the company website showed me that Tea Around Town offers, for $80 and up, a bus tour of downtown Philly, during which teas and pastries are served. And what a bus it is, blessed with exterior artwork as delicate and sweet as a butterfly. I’m at heart a softie. Not surprisingly, then, the Tea Around Town vehicle made me go a bit weak in the knees. I was smitten. Its style of painting, an excellent example of classic beauty, never will go out of style.

That does it for today, folks. I’d be interested to learn your thoughts about the art on view in this story. Goodbye till next time!

Art On Wheels, Part Twelve (Thanks, Philadelphia)

It had been half a year since I’d hauled my scrawny ass around the streets of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA, searching for handsomely decorated trucks, vans, buses and other wheeled objects. I was itching to track down another bunch of those bad boys, photograph them, and then compose and publish a new installment of Art On Wheels, a series I’ve grown quite fond of. And so, amidst favorable weather conditions, I hopped aboard a train in my suburban burg three Monday mornings ago. One hour later I arrived in downtown Philly. The game was set to begin.

However . . . I didn’t slip into game mode as effortlessly as I’d expected, because, from the start, some of Philadelphia’s many charms began to distract and seduce me more than slightly. For instance, 19th century townhouses as stately as anyone might wish for. Rittenhouse Square, a perfectly designed neighborhood park. Skyscrapers whose glass facades, in daylight, flaunt fabulous reflections.

It almost got to the point where I considered putting Art On Wheels on hold and writing a piece about the magnificence of The City Of Brotherly Love instead. But that wouldn’t do! Hell, I was on a mission, and I needed to see it through. And so, refocusing, I doggedly looked here, there and everywhere for noteworthy vehicles. Even though I didn’t spot quite as many as I’d have liked during the two hours I spent pounding the pavement, I found enough of them to quench my thirst quite thoroughly. In all, I took portraits of 17 specimens. The six that rang my bell more artistically than the others illustrate this article.

Yes, things worked out well in the end, as they always have in Philadelphia. Being a natural-born worrier, though, I had my doubts at times that day, since each Art On Wheels expedition is in fact a bit of a crapshoot. The odds, of course, were in my favor. You’d think that past experience would have proven to me emphatically that more than a few enterprises making deliveries or providing services in Philly want their vehicles to stand out. That’s just good business sense, right? In fact, it’s surprising, when you think about it, that the exteriors of a high percentage of commercial trucks, vans, etc. are pure vanilla. Flair isn’t in their vocabulary, but it sure wouldn’t hurt if it were.

Do you have favorites among the six vehicles pictured in this story? My top three are the ones promoting Junk In The Trunk, Orbit Water, and Budweiser beer (the slogan “official beer of the shift change” is meant to honor hard workers, such as Shayna Raichilson-Zadok, the chef who is proudly pictured).

Choosing among those three isn’t easy. However, I’m going to go with the candidate that makes me the happiest. Namely, Orbit Water. The truck’s artwork is oh so refreshing. And the smiling guy in the design is the epitome of good cheer. He would make an ideal salesperson for almost any product or service. Excepting cemetery plots and colonoscopies, needless to say, and a handful of others. Orbit Water, you are A-OK in my book.

Let me conclude this opus with a sidenote: For several years I’ve been issuing, without fail, a story every other Tuesday (Tuesday in my time zone, that is). However, seeing that Chanukah has begun and will continue for a few more nights, and that Kwanzaa, Christmas and New Year’s Day soon will arrive, this is a good time for me to step back for a short while. Thus, I won’t be publishing on what would have been the next scheduled date (December 26). But, assuming I remain above ground, I’ll return with fresh material on January 9, 2024. Happy New Year, everyone!

Art On Wheels, Part Eleven (A Philadelphia Story)

It was a fortuitous moment for yours truly when the idea for Art On Wheels popped into my head in 2017, as this series, now comprising 11 stories, has brought me plenty of pleasure. An admirer of good-looking objects, I have become semi-addicted to tracking down attractively decorated trucks, vans and other wheeled vehicles, snapping their portraits and writing about the adventures.

This is especially true for parts eight through eleven of Art On Wheels, which are the four most recent episodes, because I initiated them by roaming the streets of Philadelphia on foot in search of prey. Prior to that, my main modus operandi had been to drive all over the frigging place in the Philadelphia suburbs (I live in those burbs), where I located vehicles in strip malls, loading docks and other non-descript places. I doubt if I’ll ever return to that method. I’d rather walk than drive, for one thing, and Philadelphia, unlike the burbs, is made for walking. What’s more, Philly is fascinating and full of energy. My suburban area doesn’t come close to fitting that description.

There I was, then, on a recent Friday morn, boarding a train in my sleepy town. Forty-five minutes later I bade the train farewell within Jefferson Station in central Philadelphia and headed outside to begin my mission. Past experience had shown me that lovingly adorned vehicles, some in motion, some parked along curbs, are not uncommon on Philadelphia’s streets. But would I encounter enough of them on my wanderings this day to illustrate a story? Was a dud of a day in store?

It wasn’t! Man, within three minutes of exiting the train station I saw, and photographed, several vehicles that passed muster: a delivery truck, a delivery van and a tour bus. I’m worried that the truck and bus might sue me or physically confront me, as I’ve decided that only the van, belonging to the Mini Melts ice cream company, is worthy of immortalization on my site. I tell you, being a beauty contest judge is cool, but there’s a darkish side to the gig.

Long walks and I agree with one another. And it was a long, zigzagging walk I took through a multitude of neighborhoods in Philadelphia, the city I know better than any other. After six and a half miles of pavement-pounding I decided to call it a day. I likely would have continued the expedition for another hour or so, but at around the six-mile mark, from out of the blue, my calf muscles cramped up outrageously. Shit, those f*ckers hurt like hell! I could barely move and had to lean against a building to prevent myself from sinking to the sidewalk. Amazingly, the pain soon mostly went away, but I wasn’t about to push my luck. So, I made my way to Jefferson Station and returned home. I’ve never had leg cramps like those before. If they ever decide to pay a return visit, I’m going to be royally pissed.

I’ve poured over the pix of the vehicles that posed for me during the trek. I’m avoiding overkill by presenting but six of the nearly 20 photos I snapped. They are the portraits I like best. My top two votes go to the trucks belonging to Allspec Construction and to Vision Furniture. They took my breath away when I crossed paths with them the other day, and their pictures continue to do so. The airiness and lightness of their designs make me say “ooh la la!”

Still, I have a clear favorite. Vision Furniture, in my book you are numero uno! Your chairs are the embodiment of happiness, barely restrained by gravity’s pull and delighted to be with one another. And your power goes beyond that: When I look at you, I hear piano music — melodies as carefree as kids at play — accompanying the flying chairs.

Well, maybe I’m getting carried away a bit. But hell, I can’t help myself. It’s the way I roll. Been doing it for decades. One thing I know for sure, in any event, is this: If Vision Furniture had been the only stellar vehicle I saw during my urban safari, I’d have deemed the day a success.

Philadelphia Delivered Once Again: Art On Wheels, Part Ten

So, what we have here is a Philadelphia story. It is one of many I’ve penned in which The City Of Brotherly Love has starred or played a supporting role. Were it not for Philly, the contents of Yeah, Another Blogger would be pretty damn scanty.

For employment reasons I moved to Philadelphia in the mid-1970s, taking a liking to the city right from the get-go. I resided within its boundaries for about 30 years. And when my wife Sandy (whom I met in 1990) and I moved away in 2005, we deposited ourselves in a sleepy town not far at all from Philly, because we wanted to be within the city’s magnetic field.

Yeah, I absolutely dig Philadelphia. Even now, deep into my retirement years, I do one thing or another there anywhere from two to six times each month. Concerts, museums, parks, restaurants . . . the city is loaded with them and with other enticements, and I can’t resist.

One of my favorite activities is to wander around Philadelphia on foot, exploring many of its sections, not just the downtown ones. I become invigorated when pounding their sidewalks and other walking paths, no less so these days than I did during my young adulthood and middle age. I might be older than dirt, but my shoes were made for walking!

A recent Philadelphia walking adventure took place on a mid-September summer day. The weather was mild, guaranteeing that I wouldn’t sweat like a frigging pig, and the skies were a friendly shade of blue. I boarded a train in my town at 9:36 AM and found myself, 45 minutes later, inside a station in the heart of Philly. After taking care of business in the station’s men’s room, I headed for the streets. My mission was to keep my eyes open for, and to photograph, enticingly decorated vehicles. Yes, the time had arrived for me to begin creating the tenth installment of a project I’ve become enamored with: Art On Wheels.

Philadelphia’s Chinatown neighborhood, one block from the train station I exited from, is a funky, lively area replete with Asian restaurants, produce vendors, nail salons, Chinese-American attorneys’ offices, and on and on. Within moments I was strolling its streets, positive that a cool truck or two would enter my field of vision in no time. When that didn’t happen, though, I began to get an uneasy feeling that my quest for vehicular beauty was destined not to pan out.

Not to worry! Twenty-five minutes into the walk, as I crossed from Chinatown into the city’s Callowhill section, a winner presented itself to me. Has the combination of orange and white ever looked better than it does on the Harbour Textile Service truck? I think not. Bold and confident, the design proves that simplicity can pack a punch with lasting effects. The Harbour vehicle is one of my two favorites from that day.

All in all I spent three hours, interrupted by a short lunch break, on the streets of Philadelphia, my aged legs covering a total of six miles. Besides Chinatown and Callowhill, the stroll took me into four or five other neighborhoods, including Spring Garden. That’s where I made the acquaintance of La Marqueza, a gorgeous food truck that I like as much as Harbour Textile Service and maybe more. It was parked alongside Community College Of Philadelphia. Man, I gazed upon La Marqueza hungrily, allowing its vibrancy and warmth to raise my spirits. Then, off I went in search of my next victim.

By adventure’s end I’d taken the portraits of about 15 vehicles, later deciding that only five were worthy of immortalization. Ergo, those five decorate this page. The final notable one I saw belongs to Foreign Objects, a craft brewery in Monroe, New York. That truck, far from home, is endowed with delicate and wispy artwork, not at all what you’d expect a beer truck to display. All I can say is, “damn straight, I’ll drink to that!”

In closing, I’ll mention this: The first seven editions of Art On Wheels are set in the suburbs, where I had to drive all over the f*cking place to find worthy specimens. Screw that! I’d rather locate them via foot power in Philly, which is what I’ve done since then. That’s why I’m sure that at some point next year I’ll return to the city I know best for Art On Wheels, Part Eleven. I’m already looking forward to it.

Two Hours In Philly: Art On Wheels, Part Nine

Writing is a mysterious enterprise, to be sure. Story ideas, characters, themes and other writerly considerations often emerge unexpectedly from neighborhoods of the mind that you barely know about. I find that to be enchanting, to tell you the truth, because the unanticipated, if of the right sort, is nothing but a good thing, no?

Along those lines, little has surprised me more, blog-wise, than the birth of Art On Wheels. Intrepid soul that I occasionally am, I said yes to the proposition when one fateful day in 2017 a from-out-of-the-blue idea — to scour my region for attractively-decorated vehicles and to report on them — came to me. It’s an oddball activity alright, but, as it turns out, has suited me just fine, as I’m into art and also into wandering around while looking at things. So, here we are at edition number nine of the series. Who’d have thunk it? Live and f*cking learn!

For the first seven Art On Wheels stories I did 90% of the wandering via my car and 10% via my feet. I located my victims in the suburbs of Philadelphia, for the most part in loading docks, strip malls and large parking areas. But for part eight of the series, and for this ninth story, I changed my approach: I explored strictly on foot, which is my preferred mode of travel, and, ditching the burbs, opted to see what I would see on the congested streets of Philadelphia.

Not being one who enjoys freezing his ass off or getting soaked to the frigging bone, I selected a sunny and mild day, the 11th of April, for my expedition. Off I went that morning, boarding a choo-choo that transported me from my little town to The City Of Brotherly Love, where I spent two hours pounding the pavement in the Old City section and two neighborhoods to its north — Northern Liberties and Olde Kensington. All three areas indeed are pretty old: Some of the buildings went up during the 1700s and loads date from the 1800s. The 20th and 21st centuries are well-represented too, including present-day creations . . . these neighborhoods have been undergoing a new-housing boom.

But I wasn’t in Philly to concentrate on the structures that cover its soil. As focused as a hungry tiger, and moving briskly along the blocks, I scanned my surroundings carefully for wheeled constructions whose bright colors and/or stylish designs couldn’t be dismissed. I found about a dozen, fewer than I was hoping for, but enough to make my day. The portraits of six of them illustrate this page. Almost needless to say, though, more than one of the fine specimens frustrated the photographer inside of me, as they were in motion when I spotted them. “Stop, you bastard!” I nearly yelled at each of those. But they wouldn’t have obeyed even if I had opened my mouth. Alas, by the time I got my phone’s camera in position to try and immortalize them, they were too damn far away. That’s the way it goes in the big city.

I’ve examined carefully not only the photos I took on the 11th, but my opinions about them too. Initially I’d have said that the Sweetwater Brewing Company truck (above) is untoppable. You don’t run across such attention to detail and such a majestic array of colors too often, do you?

Driver’s side of graffiti truck.
Passenger side of graffiti truck.

However, since then I’ve revised my evaluation. Maybe it’s because I’m in a free-wheeling mood. Maybe it’s because I have the late artists Jackson Pollock and Helen Frankenthaler, abstractionists of a high order, on my mind. Whatever the reasons, I now am awarding the gold medal to the truck, painted deliciously with graffiti, that sat on a narrow Olde Kensington street. Its driver’s side is a testament to the power of black on white. The passenger side of the canvas, partially obscured by hand trucks and wood pallets, keeps the black on white motif going, and also explodes with controlled bursts of gold and burgundy. Does this truck belong to one of the construction workers who was hammering away very nearby? Whatever the case, its owner should be proud.

That’s it for now, boys and girls. I’d be glad to hear your thoughts about the works of art on display in this story. Till next time!

Art On Wheels, Part Eight (Thank You, Philadelphia)

A tad more than four years ago I was inspired to pen a piece for this publication that revolved around beautifully decorated motor vehicles. Pen it I did (click here), not expecting to return to the subject matter multiple times. However, as fate would have it, return I did. Yup, there’s no denying that I get kicks from seeking out and writing about art on wheels.

In each of the previous installments of this ongoing tale, I discovered most of my victims in the suburbs of Philadelphia. That was a matter of convenience, because I’m a suburbanite. However, for the current installment I decided to say “f*ck, no!” to the burbs and say “f*ck, yes!” to the City Of Brotherly Love itself. As a result, on the 16th of August I climbed aboard a train that took me from my little town to the city that I know better than any other.

As summer days go, it was a good one. The temperature was not oppressively hot. More important, the partly cloudy skies were blocking the Sun a good deal, which was absolutely A-OK with me. “And why is that?” you ask. Well, it’s because I instantly begin to sweat my aged ass off when I’m under an unobstructed summer sun!

Arriving in Philadelphia at 10:30 AM, I spent three hours, interrupted by a lunch break, striding along many of its central section’s innumerable blocks. When I began the scouting expedition I wasn’t confident that I’d spot enough good-looking vehicles to illustrate this story adequately. The trucks/vans/buses gods must have been sitting on my shoulders, though, because vehicles of interest entered my field of vision right from the get-go.

The first one I saw came in the form of a Peter Pan interstate bus, which was in the loading area of a bus terminal one block away from the train station that I had exited only minutes earlier. It’s a winner, futuristic in design and hues, and pretty much the epitome of confidence and cool. There’s no doubt in my mind that this bus is not to be messed with. Woe to whomever might even consider the idea.

Then, a minute after taking Peter Pan’s portrait I turned onto Arch Street, where a lovely Rosenberger’s food truck was zipping along. With no time to waste, I pointed my phone’s camera, pressed the button and hoped for the best. Happily, the picture came out clear instead of blurry.

I was on a roll. It continued on 12th Street not long after the Rosenberger’s encounter. There, two impossible-not-to-notice Philadelphia tour buses were parked a few feet apart from one another. Those vehicles are as explosively colorful as just about anything within Philadelphia’s borders. Man, it would be an honor to ride around town, seeing the sights, in either of them.


All in all, I snapped pictures of 15 motor vehicles during my trek. There were a few others I’d have liked to photograph, but they were on the move and eluded me. This page contains the portraits of nine of the fifteen.


The most invigorating aspect of my Philadelphia expedition was its by-chance nature. Shit yeah, it felt good to kick off the shackles of my structured and regimented life for a while and simply move from here to there, as loose as a goose, letting happen whatever might happen. I had no idea in advance where any decorative vehicles might be. And they sure as hell had no idea where I might be. Basically, I was on a very unpredictable treasure hunt without a treasure map in hand.

I was, of course, damn well pleased to locate as many eye-catchers as I did. The final vehicle that posed for me was a snazzy Dynatech van. After that I searched in vain for 20 minutes, and then began to run out of gas. The time had arrived to think about seating myself on a train that would bring me back to my little town.

Philadelphia has made my day so many times over the years (I lived in Philly for about 30 years before heading to the burbs in 2005). Once again it hadn’t disappointed.

(Please don’t be shy about adding your comments. Mucho gracias.)

Art On Wheels, Part Seven: And The Winner Is . . .

My editor, Edgar Reewright, couldn’t restrain himself when I told him last week that my next opus would be another entry in the Art On Wheels series.

“Neil, you’re straining my patience, not to mention your readers’ patience, with your ridiculous Art On Wheels stories!” Edgar shouted into his phone. “Good lord, one episode would have been enough, and yet number seven is in the works. What’s the matter with you? Can’t you think of something else to write about right now instead of trucks and vans that catch your attention? Sorry, fella, but I’m not going to edit this one. You’re on your own with it.”

Edgar paused for a couple of seconds before continuing. “Listen, Neil, I have to end this conversation. I’m about to head out to an appointment with my psychotherapist who, unbelievably and thankfully, is also a proctologist. He’s trying to help me understand why I deal with writers who turn out so much shit, such as you.” Without another word, he hung up.

Eh, screw Edgar! He’s a philistine. As far as I’m concerned there’s nothing wrong with spending some time now and then in search of snazzily-adorned motor vehicles. It gets me out of the house. It helps me pay attention to what’s going on around me. And it pleases my artsy-fartsy side. I’d rather look at works of art in museums, true. But I’m decently content to gaze at those that rest above axles and wheels.

I used to try to track down in a single day or two all of the good-looking vehicles that I would need for a story. And, by dumb luck or who knows what, I met the goal several times. But I missed the goal for episodes five and six (click here to read number six). And was even farther from it this time around, as I needed four days in January and February 2021 to encounter enough attractive vehicles for this story. What’s more, there were a few more days during those months when, on the prowl, I didn’t find any examples of vehicular art that met my standards or were capturable.

Now, capturable is a key point. Generally I locate my victims in the parking areas of supermarkets, strip malls and other businesses. And occasionally I run across them on residential streets. Usually they are making deliveries or service calls, so getting close to them and taking their portraits at those times is a relative snap.

However, sometimes things don’t work out. On more than one recent occasion, for example, I spotted fine specimens in parking lots that I was walking or driving around in, but they were pulling out and too far away for me to photograph. And, needless to say, I often see beauties on the road while I’m on the road. No way, though, that this ol’ boy is going to try and grab their pictures when he’s behind the wheel. If I were dumb enough to give that a go, I’d pretty much guarantee myself an ambulance ride to the nearest hospital emergency room or, even worse, a journey in a hearse!

I like the designs on all of the vehicles that illustrate this essay, some more than others. Big-Lil Heads is cooler than cool. Have green, orange, white and black ever looked better together than they do on that bus? And the Target truck’s design, so goofily minimalistic, is irresistible to me. I’ve never owned a dog, but if the Target dog should become available for adoption, I’ll be first in line to fill out the required papers.

Still, as much as those two ring my chimes, neither is my favorite. I have to give the nod to the W.B. Mason vehicle. The Mason design is, to me, perfection. Bright, solid and beautifully balanced, it is impossible to ignore and easy to love. W. B. Mason, as is noted on the truck, was founded in 1898. Based in Brockton, Massachusetts for its entire life, the company distributes office and janitorial supplies, and numerous other products, throughout the USA. Whenever I see a Mason truck I find myself attracted to it like a magnet. But I normally spot them when they are in motion, not when I can have a good long look at them. February 24, 2021, then, was my lucky day, because on that date a W. B. Mason truck was sitting quietly in the parking lot that surrounds the Wawa food market in my suburban Philadelphia town.

Yes, the W. B. Mason truck is number one in my book, followed, respectively, by the Big-Lil Heads and Target vehicles. I’d be happy to learn which of the artworks on this page you think are the best. Thanks for reading, girls and boys. Goodbye till next time!