Art

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

Yeah, Another Blogger159 Comments

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)

Yeah, Another Blogger165 Comments

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)

Yeah, Another Blogger156 Comments

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?

Yeah, Another Blogger175 Comments

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!

Love, Love, Love

Yeah, Another Blogger151 Comments

A few weeks ago, I, an art lover, spent an hour surfing the web, learning about the numerous outdoor sculptures dotting the University Of Pennsylvania campus. Much to my amazement, I discovered that one of the late artist Robert Indiana’s famous LOVE sculptures sits smack dab in the middle of the university’s grounds.

LOVE Park, Philadelphia

Now, I’d been fully aware of, and had seen multiple times, two other of his LOVE sculptures, both of which reside in downtown Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA. They have become tourist attractions, especially the one in a park within a stone’s throw of City Hall. That park, in fact, is known to just about everyone as LOVE Park, rather than as John F. Kennedy Plaza, which is its official name.

But it was news to me about the University Of Pennsylvania, a major Philadelphia institution located a mile from downtown. This meant, of course, that Philadelphia displays three LOVE pieces, which is fitting, since The City Of Brotherly Love is one of Philadelphia’s nicknames. New York City, by the way, is the only other municipality in the world with as many as three. (Per Wikipedia, more than 80 LOVE sculptures are scattered around the globe.)

Well, being one who enjoys his mini adventures, I decided I should visit this trio of creations soon. And all on the same day, no less, which I was certain nobody had ever done before. Shit, I’m old as hell and heretofore had no claim to fame whatsoever. It was time to make my mark, no matter how incredibly insignificant it would be!

Sister Cities Park, Philadelphia
University Of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia

Thus, late last month I hauled my aged ass aboard a train that, in an hour, took me from my little town to the heart of Philadelphia. Five minutes later, there I was in LOVE Park. Fifteen minutes after that I strode into Sister Cities Park to examine its AMOR sculpture (Robert Indiana produced versions of LOVE in various languages; amor means love in Spanish and Latin). And I made my way to Penn’s sprawling campus from there, eventually locating and admiring its LOVE piece. Mission accomplished!

Why are there so many LOVE sculptures in the world? Why do people gravitate to them? I’m not an expert on anything, let alone love. But it’s pretty clear to me that love, in some respects, makes the world go round. Our planet, which might easily and accurately be viewed as a horror show, would be even more unsettling were it not for the love that connects nearly each person with at least a few of their fellow beings. People need love and want to love. Even if they don’t know it.

And so, Robert Indiana tapped into something elemental when he began inserting love into his artworks. In 1961 he used the word for the first time, in a painting, not a sculpture. He made his initial LOVE sculpture nine years later, and over time the demand for sculptural follow-ups took off. I suspect that the demand was boosted tremendously when, in 1973, the United States Postal Service issued a postage stamp with Indiana’s LOVE image on it. That stamp sold like hotcakes.

I think that the simplicity and the warmth of Indiana’s LOVE design are the reasons for its success. Four letters in basic colors. Nothing more. The letters cling to one another for dear life, the O nestled against the L and the E as if it were in a womb. The LOVE design makes us drop our defenses and think that —yes! — love is where it’s at. It’s all you need, as The Beatles famously noted. Well, it wouldn’t hurt to have water and food too. In any case, one thing for sure is that few artists ever create iconic works. Robert Indiana, without any doubt, did.

1967, the year of the Summer Of Love, was the height of the hippie movement, when it seemed that peace, love and understanding had a chance of putting the human race on a golden path. As we know all too well, that didn’t exactly pan out.

1967 also was the year in which All You Need Is Love, by The Beatles, made its appearance. It would be inappropriate of me to end this contemplation without including their live performance of the song, whose message has resounded loud and clear ever since. The event was part of a broadcast called Our World, the first ever to be transmitted to a worldwide audience via satellite. Home from college during summer break, I, with my brother, watched The Beatles do their magical thing on a tiny television in my bedroom. The presentation mesmerized and excited us. Those were special days.

Click on the following link to view The Beatles in action:  https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x6mtbyq

Faces

Yeah, Another Blogger165 Comments

A week and a half ago, Philadelphia Museum Of Art opened its arms nice and wide when my wife Sandy and I entered the building. Then, with feeling, it embraced us. “Yeah,” I thought to myself, “this is going to be a good visit.” And it was. How could it not have been? I mean, over the years I’d roamed through PMA’s galleries more than 100 times, coming away invigorated each trip. The museum rocks.

Arriving with no advance plans as to what to see, we took a look at the museum’s website after showing our PMA-membership cards at the admissions counter. Any number of special exhibits listed on the site, ranging from small to large, piqued our interest. An hour and 45 minutes later, we’d toured them all, plus other gallery spaces. Whew! Had we covered too much ground a bit too quickly? Probably, but little matter. In any event, the museum was readying to close at that point, so off we went to retrieve our car in the museum’s parking garage. The visit, though, didn’t fade from my mind.

Sketch of The Potato Eaters, by Vincent Van Gogh. (This image belongs to Philadelphia Museum Of Art)

Faces! I’m still thinking about some of the face-centric artworks I saw at the museum, more so than the landscapes, seascapes, town scenes and city scenes, and abstractions. Maybe that’s because Sandy and I began our trek at a mini exhibit whose centerpiece was a privately owned, seldom-shown-in-public sketch by my favorite artist, Vincent van Gogh. The drawing, from 1885, is a rendition of The Potato Eaters, an oil painting Van Gogh was working on at the time in the Netherlands, the country of his birth. That painting is now generally considered to be one of his most important pieces.

The five folks in the sketch are Dutch farmers, a hard-working family that never had, and undoubtedly never would have, more than the minimum necessities needed to get by. Van Gogh didn’t try to portray them in exacting detail. He wasn’t a precisionist. His intent was to get to the heart and soul of these people. Hell, getting to the heart and soul was his intent in every one of his works, no matter what the subject matter. And he almost always pulled it off. His enormous popularity developed largely for this reason, I think. Posthumously, needless to say, as the general public was unaware of Van Gogh during his lifetime. (Van Gogh moved from the Netherlands to France in 1886, and died there, by his own hand, in 1890.)

Portrait Of James Baldwin, by Beauford Delaney. (This image belongs to Philadelphia Museum Of Art)

On the opposite side of the museum’s ground floor, hundreds of feet away from the Van Gogh sketch, Sandy and I admired a portrait of James Baldwin, the American writer, social activist and deep thinker. Painted by Beauford Delaney, a devoted artist whom success mostly eluded, the work, painted in 1945, depicts Baldwin in his early twenties. It captures him brilliantly, with bold strokes and an expert disregard for photographic-like realism. As a result, Baldwin comes alive on the canvas. Van Gogh would have approved.

Many other faces greeted us from PMA’s gallery walls that day. I’ll comment on only two of them. They are the visages, as some of you will recognize, of myself and my better half. Man, there was no way I was going to let pass the opportunity to snap a photo when I noticed our reflections in a mirror designed by Stephen Burks. The mirror was part of a dazzling exhibit of Burks’ modern interior-design items.

Somewhat amazingly, it is the only picture I took in the museum that day (the other two pix in this story are from the PMA website). That’s because, while at PMA, I had no intention of writing about Sandy’s and my visit and illustrating the story with photos captured by my phone’s camera. I just wasn’t in a reporter-on-the-scene mood. And yet, this essay emerged anyway. Well, all I can say is, “You never frigging know.” Ain’t that the truth!

Art On Wheels, Part Twelve (Thanks, Philadelphia)

Yeah, Another Blogger155 Comments

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!

Happy Birthday, Sandy!

Yeah, Another Blogger150 Comments

Seeing that a person’s birthday comes but once a year, celebrating it in a substantial way is a damn good idea. Even though my wife Sandy and I don’t always follow that philosophy, a couple of weeks ago we did. Having booked a hotel room in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA for Sandy’s birthday (the big day itself, plus the two days bookending it), we dipped into The City Of Brotherly Love’s many offerings and, as is almost always the case when we’re there, had a fine time.

Jules Goldman Books And Art, an eye-popping store.
Empty building that once housed the Painted Bride Art Center. Isaiah Zagar’s mosaic mural covers the building.
A portion of the mosaic mural at the rear of the building.

What did we do? We had two great restaurant dinners, for one thing, meals that we won’t soon forget. We took in a movie (Barbie, which Sandy, unlike me, liked a lot). We wandered into Jules Goldman Books And Art, one of the most mind-blowingly jumbled stores I’ve ever seen. And we gazed in wonder at the mosaic mural (by Isaiah Zagar) covering all sides of the long-vacant building that once housed the Painted Bride Art Center. Sandy and I saw loads of terrific music and dance performances at the Bride, and truly miss it. (The Painted Bride Art Center still exits. It’s at a different location now, and is but the merest shadow, arts-wise, of its former world-class self.) The building’s and the mosaic mural’s fates, tied up in litigation for a number of years, are uncertain. Demolition is a real possibility. If that comes to pass, Philadelphia will lose a treasure.

The painting popularly known as Whistler’s Mother.

The birthday girl and I also went to the Philadelphia Museum Of Art. In that enormous institution we viewed hundreds of artworks, including the world-famous painting popularly known as Whistler’s Mother, on loan from a museum in Paris. I was expecting to poo-poo the picture, but the more I looked at it, the more I liked it. It’s a well-designed creation, quite riveting, whose true title (Arrangement In Grey And Black No. 1) is a good description of what the artist James Whistler was going after, and accomplished, when his mother Anna posed for him in 1871.

The building in which I once lived (Clinton Street, Philadelphia).

I could mention plenty more activities, but I’ll limit myself to one. A very personal one. Namely, our visit to a central Philadelphia neighborhood we both were familiar with, and within which we very likely crossed paths many years before we formally met in 1990.

I moved to Philadelphia in 1974, taking up residence on Clinton Street, a leafy block with any number of fine old houses. I lived there for 14 months in an apartment building, the one nondescript structure on Clinton, during which time Sandy worked two blocks away. Did we pass one another, maybe more than once, on the street? Did we chow down in a neighborhood eatery at the same time? We’ll never know, but I’m guessing yes. On the day before her birthday, we reminisced about those long-ago days as we strolled along a bunch of blocks in the Clinton Street area.

To continue: As noted above, our paths crossed in 1990. Meaningfully too. This occurred at a singles event near Philadelphia’s Delaware River waterfront. Sandy and I, each of us far removed from our Clinton-Street-neighborhood days, clicked right from the start and have been together ever since. I don’t believe in fate or anything like that. But it’s cool that, unbeknownst to us, we were part of the same picture all those years before, in a sense just waiting for our stories to entwine.

Now, this being a piece about a special occasion, I’ll conclude the proceedings with blasts of good cheer and high energy. And I’ll turn to The Beatles to handle the honors. Their hard-rocking song Birthday appears on what has come to be known as The White Album. John Lennon and Paul McCartney wrote Birthday quickly in the recording studio in September 1968. A few hours later, the band, McCartney handling lead vocals, put it on tape. Man, in no time at all a classic was birthed.

It’s inarguable that Paul McCartney calling Sandy and singing Birthday over the phone to her would be better than my presenting her with The Beatles’ recorded version. Maybe one day, in an alternate universe, that will happen. But for now, the original, in all its glory, will suffice beautifully. And so, once again . . . happy birthday, Sandy!

Art On Wheels, Part Eleven (A Philadelphia Story)

Yeah, Another Blogger151 Comments

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

Yeah, Another Blogger126 Comments

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.