The Learning

A friend of mine once said that he liked the fall because it reminded him of going back to high school. I thought about that for days after, and even now I still remember it. It serves as a reminder to me that I don’t ever want to be so caught up in the past that I wander through my present and future.

I understand the feeling he felt, though. Change is difficult, even when we want it. As human beings, we are so geared toward holding on to what we have that it is hard to let go of something, even when it’s already gone. Some have worse trouble than others and are selfish in all things; some have the ability to let go in certain areas and free themselves.

One of the things I love about photography is that it is always the present. But the irony, of course, is that once this moment of the present is captured, immediately it melts into the past. This is why I like to take pictures of the same thing several times: the present changes, making the subject darker, lighter, unbelievably cheerful or dreary without hope. And some things are just varying degrees of one or the other.

One location seems to be just the dark and the dreary. Three times I’ve gotten shots at the Lehigh Structural Steel in Allentown; the first, on the hottest day of the year in 2009:

Lehigh Structural Steel, Allentown, PA

The second shot was taken on a bright, clear day last year; and the third, taken today, in the deep cold of the winter. The sign faces north, so the sun is almost always behind it. It sits parallel to the Union Street bridge over the Lehigh River, which was where I took the second shot:

Lehigh Steel, from the BridgeIt turned out almost cheery and somewhat interesting, but I was never terrifically happy with it. The first set I always kind of liked, too, but I was just learning my camera and quite frankly the pictures were very grainy. Today, since I was in the area, and since it was cloudy, I decided to try again.

First problem: the angles are odd. Lehigh Structural Steel is located in an odd sub-basement below the bridge, jam-packed with houses and one-way streets that pass for two-way streets. The first shot I took from an odd angle, from the lot next to the old plant. The bridge is the most direct shot, but in the best of days it’s not a great walk.

Under the bridge is an extension of Tilghman Street, and an odd collection of houses sit there, directly underneath the Union Street bridge. I saw a spot to park at the end of the street, near the railroad tracks, and fit my car in it. From here, it was a short walk along the tracks to the shot I wanted. I decided to get the tracks involved, as well:

Wide shot of Lehigh Structural Steel, Allentown, PALehigh Structural Steel, Allentown, PA

And this seems to have captured its present. The way it should look, warts and all. The other shots have their merit, and they certainly captured the present as of that moment, but these shots seem to capture the spirit of the area more than anything.

This is what I’m learning, and what I’m continuing to learn: the past never gets better and never gets worse. Only the present and the future change, and they always do, so the best thing I can to do is try to change these things rather than something that might have happened in my past. It’s a hard lesson, and one that I continue to learn.

Reinvention

Stop me if I’ve said this before, but it had great impact: a few months ago I was listening to “Fresh Air” on NPR, my favorite return-home radio program. The interview was with a college professor and social media expert. She was talking about how her students, in this age of social media, were not able to reinvent themselves in college as prior generations had, because Facebook and Twitter and Instagram followed them around, keeping them anchored to their past.

Whereas I’m sure that this college professor’s students felt that pressure to remain in their past, the ones who make the hard decision to shed the past and move on are going to be all the better for it. Bear in mind this comes from the man who earlier this year said to himself, “Huh. It’s been 25 years since I graduated high school. Wonder if there was a reunion. Oh, well.”

It sounds strange coming from someone who takes photographs of old signs, but there is an impossible danger to living in the past. I have an appreciation of the past, which is not the same thing. Ever had a friend who wished he was still in high school? Genuinely frightening, right? I appreciate my high school years for what they were, but put a bullet in my head if I had to go back and relive them.

Things are changing and changing rapidly in my life, so in honor of that, I decided to throw together some of my pictures of newer signs with an appreciation of the past:

The Inside Scoop neon sign, Coopersburg, PAThe Inside Scoop, Coopersburg, PA

This sign, to me, speaks volumes about what a truly good sign is all about. Honestly, this sign strikes such a mood that they could serve you ice cream in flavors like Dead Camel and Frozen Wart and you’d still go in a second time because of the atmosphere. This was one of the very first sign pictures I took and is one of the main reasons why I still do this.

Neato Burrito neon sign, Harrisburg, PANeato Burrito, Harrisburg, PA

Serendipity. This summer I was in downtown Harrisburg trying to find the Pep’s Grill “Bar” sign. I found it all right, but what I wasn’t  finding was parking. Eventually, I ended up on a cross street, right underneath the Neato Burrito sign. I was pretty sure I was parked illegally, so I ran over to Pep’s Grill and got a few shots of it. It was one of the hottest days of the year. I was sweating pretty good. There were two Mennonite girls in light blue dresses and bonnets and sneakers on the corner, handing out tracts. They handed me one as I went back to my car. I put it on the passenger’s side seat and was about to put my camera away when I said to myself, don’t be ridiculous, take the shot. So I snapped off a few of the Neato Burrito sign. Love the style, love the way the background shows up in this. No regrets, other than I had already eaten lunch.

The Capitol Restaurant neon sign, Bloomsburg, PAThe Capitol Restaurant, Bloomsburg, PA

For years, The Capitol Theatre in Bloomsburg was something other than a theatre, although the marquee stayed. It was student housing when I first took a shot of it in 2011. This year, they decided to make a restaurant out of it. As you can see, where the marquee was, they put up an LCD panel, and they eventually put one on the other side. I’m so glad they restored it, that you know what, I don’t even care that they’ve pretty much ruined it.

Again, things are changing, but I’m not really sure at this moment how they will go. One thing’s for sure, though: I’m not looking back.

The End of Limbo

For the last few months I’ve been trying to concoct a post on signs in the Central Susquehanna Valley in Pennsylvania, where I spend a good deal of my time. Due to economic reasons, four days and three nights I spend working in the Lewisburg area. Away from my wife. It’s been like that for nearly three years. It’s been difficult to write about, because to be quite honest, I’d rather talk about travel and signs and inspiring things instead of whining about my own problems.

And then I found out this week that I’m going to be able to do work from home at the start of the year. So now that I’ve reached the end, it seems this the perfect time to bring out some of the signs I’ve taken shots of during the last few years.

Henry Voelcker neon sign, Danville, PAHenry Voelcker, Danville, PA

This beauty is down a side street in my wife’s hometown. I stumbled upon it one day in 2011 and got a few shots of it, but being the pronounced goof that I am, wanted to get a shot of it lit. Every time I was in Danville about dusk, I would drop down the side street and see if it was lit. And if it wasn’t, I’d drive off and come back a little later. No deal for the longest time. Finally, I decided it was high time that I forget about it happening naturally and stepped inside one day. The guy working there was very nice and turned the sign on for me. As you can see, only the “Henry” lit up. But a small victory none-the-less.

Bea BUtler's neon sign, Danville, PABea Butler’s, Danville, PA

I got this one the same day that I took the picture at Henry Voelcker. This one is right on Main Street in Danville, and it firmly falls into the category of hiding in plain sight. I had been down this way several times and never saw this one. In truth, I never found it until I did some research of previous sign pictures in Danville. Bea Butler’s was a dress shop, although I’ve never been able to find out any real information about it, when it closed, or much of anything.

Brooks Apparel, Sunbury, PABrooks, Sunbury, PA

This was also taken in 2011, along Market Street in Sunbury. Brooks appeared to be a clothing store in Sunbury, and again, the internet is mum on the subject. I had an early appointment in Shamokin Dam the morning I took this, and the morning sun was fantastic, shining on all these panels. A few weeks ago I drove past to see that this whole facade had been painted a dull tan in readiness for a new business. It made me feel good that the old place was at last being used for something, but I was sorry to see this wonderful cranberry-and-turquoise go away.

The Pike Drive-In, Montgomery, PAThe Pike Drive-In, Montgomery, PA

Eventually, when you live in limbo as I have, you try and find things to do, so I made little mini-excursions after work. One day, I just followed US 15 up to Williamsport just to see what I could see, and I ran across this fantastic drive-in, right at the beginning of the season. I didn’t get a chance to see a movie there, because my schedule never coincided with when they were open. This is one of the drive-ins that is in danger of closing because of the digital conversion. Check it out at projectdrivein.com and see how you can help.

Sunset Rink, Shamokin Dam, PASunset Rink, Shamokin Dam, PA

This sign has gone through the wringer in my time here. It’s always been a grand old 50s-60s relic, and I love the shot of the ice cream cone at the top left, but it was in pretty sad shape when I first saw it in 2011. It further deteriorated in a storm, and for the first quarter of this year, the while panel was broken and the sign read ”   set   ink.” Fortunately, they restored it shortly thereafter, and I got this shot this summer.

There are, of course, plenty more, which I’ll be sharing shortly. The fact is, I do have a soft spot in my heart for this area, and since we have family in the area, I’m not completely leaving it behind. Thanks so much, Susquehanna Valley. It was difficult, but I’m thankful for the time I spent here.

Ugly/Beautiful

What is it that draws us to abandoned and broken places? Is it simply just because they are different from the everyday, or do they cause interesting questions in the mind of the viewer, or is there something within us that feels a kinship with its lonely and broken appearance. Perhaps all three.

Izzy's, Allentown, PAIzzy’s Allentown, PA (post-fire, now torn down)

The Orange Car, Allentown, PAThe Orange Car, Allentown, PA

It wasn’t a good weekend last weekend. My computer of six years took a sudden and irrepairable nosedive on Saturday. On Sunday, my car started hesitating while shifting gears and my check engine light came on. The fun continued yesterday, which started with me in the dealership, went on to work, where everyone else was also having a bad day, and finished off with me dropping my B&H catalog in the toilet (don’t ask). My brother-in-law posted something on Facebook about having a horrible day as well.

You never wish a bad day on anyone, but it was nice to know that I wasn’t alone.

11 and 15 Fuel Stop11-15 Fuel Stop, Liverpool, PA

A few months ago, I stopped by an old gas station along US 11 and 15. It’s been closed for as long as I’ve been driving along that stretch of road, but its hand-painted sign along the top has always intrigued me. I finally had the time this trip through so I pulled off, and for the first time, I took a good long look at it. Pretty desolate outside, but inside was a scene from one of those abandoned places urban spelunkers all flock to:

Inside 11-15 Fuel Stop, Liverpool, PA Inside 11-15 Fuel Stop, Liverpool, PAI began to think of this place yesterday, when I was going through my set of circumstantial turmoil. I thought of every dark, depressing place a person can come up with. And it just didn’t ring true. Turmoil hits us all, sooner or later, as does depression. But they’re not the same thing. Turmoil happens, conflicts happen, but if you handle them the right way, you learn and grow. Depression is its own thing, and turmoil just prolongs it.

Depression is the above picture, a spreading disease. Turmoil can look rough, but it’s alive, active, still hopeful for a chance. And turmoil, once conquered, becomes one of your greatest allies.

I look at these pictures of the 11-15 Fuel Stop and think about how unusual it is. I think about what must have happened here to make it look like this. But mostly, I think of what has been overcome. I have been here and I have moved on. May we all have turmoil and work through it. And as the great philosopher Kelly Clarkson says, “What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger.”

Save the Drive-In

In passing by a storefront in Lewisburg just recently, I saw a flyer for Project Drive-In, an initiative started by Honda. Many of the few existing drive-ins have found themselves in a good amount of trouble lately, owing to the fact that the film industry is ditching film in favor of digital. The two closest drive-ins to Lewisburg, the Pike in Montgomery, PA, and the Point, in between Northumberland and Danville, are among those in danger.

Pike Drive-In, Montgomery, PA

Also, another one of my favorites that I just went by this last weekend, the Fingerlakes Drive-In just outside of Auburn, NY, finds itself in the same predicament.

Fingerlakes Drive-In, Auburn, NY

Kudos to Honda for championing this cause. You can visit their Project Drive-In site at projectdrivein.com

Somewhat related is my latest video, taken this summer. I took a trip down US 209 from the Lykens Valley to Tamaqua and stopped by to see if an old buddy of mine was still around. The sign for the Temple Drive-In caved in more than a year ago, and its twisted appearance is absolutely fascinating. The Temple has been closed for some time now. Its last-gasp effort to keep itself open was to start showing X-rated movies in the late 80’s. I guess they over-estimated the market for outdoor porn and soon closed for good.

The Heart of Easton

For the last four years, I’ve had cause to go in to Easton, PA once a week. It’s the hometown of former heavyweight champ Larry Holmes, who was apparently nicknamed “The Easton Assassin,” although I had never heard such a nickname until I moved to the area. It has a certain reputation, deserved or not. It’s quite hilly, and the serpentine drive along US 22 is much like a trip on the Wild Mouse at the State Fair.

Lafayette Bar and Coffee House, 2012, Easton, PA

Lafayette Bar and Coffee House, June 2012

Over a year ago, I posted a photograph on Instagram that I took of the Lafayette Hotel/Bar/Coffee Shop in downtown Easton. So I related the story of the picture’s origins: I drove up and parked in front, got out of the car with my Pentax k20d in one hand and my iPhone in the other and snapped off a few shots. A couple of guys were moving a ratty-looking couch out of the building. Another guy asked me what I was doing in that kind of city-dweller way where you’re not sure if the person is looking for a) a friend, b) a couple bucks, c) a good conversation, or d) a way to rip my camera from my cold, dead hand. I presumed it was somewhere in between a and b and left after about ten minutes because I was doing more talking than snapping.

A few days later, I tell this story to my friend Oscar. And he tells me a hair-raising story of an experience he once had down there. So, fair or not,  I half-hint at this in my Instagram post.

Nearly a year later, and I find out that I’m in the midst of a slight disagreement. The Easton Main Street account on Instagram took issue with my opinion—or at least with my half-hint—and defended the Lafayette with honor. I made my apologies and we moved on. A few days later, Easton Main Street posted a fascinating shot of a sign just around the corner and tagged me on it. A couple bought this old brick place on the far side of the block, which had this old sign that read “Horns,” stripped of its neon, but a lovely, rusty relic.

You didn’t have to ask me twice.

So on my weekly trip to Easton, I skirted back into the heart of the city. There was another sign I was after that I had spotted out of the corner of my eye one day. The State Café Grill, just around the corner from Easton’s famous State Theater. I didn’t know if it was old and well-kept or new and of the tradition, but it was just my speed. I hit this one up first:

State Cafe Grill, Easton, PA

One of the true high points of the drive along Northampton Street in Easton is the Northampton National Bank sign on the side of the grand old building. I tried to get some information on this online, but somehow that proved fruitless. Please let me know if you have any information regarding this restored sign:

The Northampton National Bank, Easton, PA

On to the Lafayette. My memory is a little fuzzy from my first visit, but it seems to me several things have changed.

  1. The street is one way there, and one way in the opposite direction. I think that may have changed. I had to go around the block to park.
  2. The area around the Lafayette seems to have cleaned up considerably since the last time I was there. For certain, they’ve added some cool jazz-themed murals along the side. Again, maybe I’m mistaken, but it sure seemed that way.
  3. There’s a record store across the street. I’m definitely sure that wasn’t there before. Old vinyl and old signs, these are a few of my favorite things.

Fortunately, where I came to park put me in the perfect position to catch the “Horns” sign. Now that, I’ve seen it up close, I want to give it a great big hug:

Horns, Easton, PA Closeup of Horns sign, Easton, PA

I stopped in at the record store. Some decent stuff. I always gravitate toward the jazz section and I always seem to judge a record store by such things. Double Decker (mentioned earlier, across from Zandy’s) is still my favorite in the area, but this is a good one.  I find it fascinating that both record store locations are just across from classic signage.

Even though I had the previous shots from the Lafayette in practically the same weather conditions, I took some more just to see if I could improve on my previous ones. I got one from across the street and focused in on the jazz paintings on the wall:

Lafayette Bar and Coffe House from across the street, Easton, PA Lafayette Bar and Coffee Shoppe, Easton, PA, 2013 Trumpeter Mural, Lafayette Bar, Easton, PA

So, does Easton deserve a bad reputation? Probably not. It’s definitely improving, and rapidly so. I lived in Chattanooga and saw the changes that were made to it. When I first saw it in 1990, it was a shabby, soot-covered wreck with very little to recommend it. Look at Chattanooga today. It gets on all sorts of lists as a tourist attraction and as a great place to live. Will Easton get to that point? Here’s hoping. The seeds are there. I think they should be given every chance to grow.

Neon Dreams and Neon Missions

Zandy's Allentown

Closing Up at Zandy’s in Allentown, PA, 2009.

A few days ago I had a dream. Don’t laugh, but it was about a sign. I was driving down a familiar road, or at least, a road that was familiar in my dream. I passed by a large and impressive sign, one that I must have passed by a thousand times and somehow never noticed. It was lit up in the middle of the day and had all sorts of neon and bulbs and all the bells and whistles. I pulled the car over and realized I was still far away, so I turned around and parked in the lot. By the time I got to the sign, the lights had gone out, and I could see that there was this odd LCD sign bisecting the great old neon one, stuck in the middle of it as if it had been thrown there with great force. The people who worked at that business, which was beauty salon, were leaving to go to lunch. Two women and a man. They walked up the street and I followed them, figuring when they would get back they would turn the lights back on.

The people stopped to eat at someplace that I knew was not a restaurant. It resembled a college dorm. They sat down at a table and blabbed to each other and paid no notice of me telling them they weren’t in a restaurant.

I woke up the next morning and told Laura about this dream. And all sorts of memories crept up.

I’ve learned from experience that no one wants to hear anyone’s problems, least of all read about them, so I’ll keep this part of the story brief: I was working in television, and was laid off in 2009 due to fiscal problems at the station. Following that, partially unemployed for a little over two years. A week before the layoff, I bought my first D-SLR, a Pentax k20d. It was a struggle not to think Oh, great, just made this major purchase, and now what? But I looked at my new camera a different way. I don’t believe in coincidence. I was supposed to use this.

News Agency, Quakertown, PANews Agency, Quakertown, PA. Taken in May of 2009.

I had always wanted to take pictures of signs, but my life in television had been harried and hurried and I never felt like I could take the time. After a tough day of job search, I’d try out the Pentax. I cut my teeth on a few locals, the News Agency sign in Quakertown, which I felt was not long for this world in 2009 and lo and behold it still stands. The neon of Zandy’s, which sits across Double Decker Records, one of my favorite haunts. And the majestic neon of the Allentown Rescue Mission, which had just recently been restored.God Is Love, Allentown Rescue Mission, Allentown, PA

Allentown Rescue Mission, Allentown, PA. Also from 2009.

Somehow drawn to these old friends after I had my dream, I went back out for another visit. I hit up the Allentown Rescue Mission first. I had never gotten a shot of the neon cross out front, though why I can’t say other than to bring up how drawn I was to the massive “God Is Love” on top. It was just after sundown, my favorite “neon magic hour.” I found a difference this time out: the “S” was out from “Is.” So know the sign reads “God I Love.”

Allentown Rescue Mission, Allentown, PAAllentown Rescue Mission, September 2013

That works, too.

And while I was at it, the neon cross:

Cross at the Allentown Rescue Mission, Allentown, PA

For days after, I really saw my dream as something negative, of being ignored, of finding what I was looking for but once I had it, it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Maybe that was true, but lost in that is something truly positive: we all have our missions in life, and in the end it doesn’t matter that a few people—or many—aren’t listening. We should continue to live, to seek and strive, and if we don’t find what we’re looking for, we move on. Whatever pain we have endured, we use to help others who have struggled with the same thing. We do what we were put on Earth to do with the tools God has given us, whether it be a camera or a pen or even just an idea.

God I Love, Allentown Rescue Mission, Allentown, PA

This is our mission. This is our life. And in the end, no amount of disappointment and struggle matters in the light of that.

Highway 61 Revisited

For a number of years, we would travel along PA 61 through the heart of Coal Country to get to my in-laws’ house. It was always an interesting trip, and was another source that fed my love for signs, especially the old ones. It also fed my love for preserving the memory of these signs: when we first started making the trip, the hulking remains of the Deer Lake Drive-In sign still existed. Even though it was in my mind to take a picture of it every time we went by, I didn’t do it. After a couple of years of this sorry state of affairs, the Deer Lake Drive-In sign was torn down. This still haunts me a little.

I had the opportunity to drive along PA 61 again this week. They’ve been tearing things apart in that same Deer Lake area, and it was because of this I managed to see a sign that I had never seen before, for a long-departed company called Enterprise Homes. The neon is almost intact:

Enterprise Homes

Just up from here is the town of Schuylkill Haven. Through here, 61 is one of those stretches of road that looks like it had thrived at one point, but that one point was long, long ago. Normally, this is where my Spidey sense for old signs starts to kick in. However, I’ve been through here before, and I know that the only real old one is at the Country Squire, and old restaurant/bar/motel at the edge of town:

Country SquireNot sure what that blue stuff is, but it ain’t neon…

The next town over is Pottsville. I cheated a bit and got off 61 for the next few shots, and I was surprised at what I saw: the first time I came to Pottsville, the old Garfield Diner, amid claims of renovation, appeared to be closed. However…

Garfield Diner garfield-frontAnd it was lit in the middle of the day! Come to papa!

Normally I like to get stuff early morning or magic hour, but Pottsville is a little different. Everything’s kinda smooshed together, so your best bet is right around lunch time to get some good shots. So I ambled over to a particular favorite of mine: a massive wall-mural of a ghost sign just down from the Garfield. Here’s the shot I originally got of it:

Hooven

And here’s how it looks in the sunlight:hooven-sunIt always pays to get shots of the same thing. Things change, and sometimes you get lucky. I’m sure I’ll go back to 61, and I’m sure I’ll see something I never did before. That’s the beauty.

YGUEBWJHXD7X

Roads (Slightly) Less Traveled

Signhunting is not an exact science. Don’t get me wrong, there’s a lot of resources out there for discovering where the good ones are, but at the same time, not everything has been photographed, and Google is only as good as your keywords when you’re looking around on the internet. I like to use “neon sign”  along with the city or town that I’m researching, but invariably I come up with a Bud Light sign or the ever-popular “Bimbo en Repose” for you art and mud flap aficionados. So, every once in a while I kick it in American Pickers mode and just hit a road I’ve never hit before.

Returning from the Llanerch a few Saturdays ago, we headed up route 1, hoping to find something more. However, that area, as interesting as it is, contains no neon or anything old and interesting. Somewhat disappointed, we decided to head back via the Schuylkill Expressway.

“It’s all right,” I said. “It’s Saturday,” I said. “How bad can it be?” I said.

(Philadelphia natives who are reading this: I hope you were not injured when you hit the floor laughing)

After spending three lifetimes to drive the space of two miles, we were allowed to go free. And being somewhat frustrated and being the proponent of the road less traveled as I am, I followed my nose. My nose told me to go up 422, because I had some unfinished business in the town of Royersford.

We had been through a few months before, looking for a neon relic that’s attached to Lebow Furniture. I had to give it a miss due to time constraints, but now I was ready to roll. I wasn’t sure exactly where it was, so I followed my nose down Main Street. Before we got there, we saw a colorful old one in front of Plotts’ Oil. We stuck a pin in that one, because I was after Lebow.

Lebow Furniture, Main Street RoyersfordLebow Furniture is still in operation. Anytime you see a local furniture place still operating these days, it’s pretty encouraging. Especially in a grand old Main Street like this.

Lebow Furniture

Not as encouraging was the appliance store just down the street. The sign for McKissic and Sons is still clinging to the side of the old building, but there’s no other hint that there’s been anything there for years. I dig the arrow shape:

McKissic-and-sons

All that remained was to reverse course and get the Plotts’ Oil sign:

plottsOrange and yellow? Two words: Yum yum.

It occurred to me when I got back that I had found only two signs rolling around Philadelphia and environs and I found three gems on Main Street in Royersford. Which just goes to show you that you don’t always find what your looking for in the most obvious places.

Every Silver Lining Has a Cloud

Once in a while I’ll watch a movie, usually an old one, where I see an old sign in the background, and I salivate like Pavlov’s dog. Even if I know the sign has long since been replaced. Something beautiful and unattainable. I am somehow mournful and encouraged at the same time, as most men (not I) must feel about watching a movie with Megan Fox in it. Not even a remote chance of that happening, and yet, she still exists.

That was, until this year, when I watched Silver Linings Playbook. In case you missed it, the movie is set in the Philadelphia suburbs, and several key scenes in the movie take place in the Llanerch Diner, Upper Darby’s own. As you can imagine, the idea of capturing a neon diner sign is appealing to me no matter what the circumstances, but one that’s featured in a movie? Get out. Immediately, this went on my to-do list.

We made the pilgrimage to the Llanerch two weekends ago. Obviously, since I had seen the place from several different angles from the movie, I knew it wasn’t the best ever, but it was now somewhat famous.

Llanerch Diner TopI started in taking pictures of the DINER on top. As you can see above, the Diner portion of the sign is quite old The Llanerch part with the coffee cups was most likely added within the last twenty to thirty years. An odd contrast, I felt. I wondered what the original looked like.

Then I tried to work in the whole building. The Llanerch in red on the building is quite stylish, and has probably been around a while. And then that lovely delivery sign above it. Let’s just say there have been better uses of Helvetica.

llanerch-diner

Along the side, facing US 1, was a third sign that I didn’t know about. This was the discovery, for me. A great old shape, with another script ‘Llanerch’ and ‘Diner’ spelled out in individual blocks. A great sight, but then, the worst signage atrocity I could possibly imagine: a nasty old LCD panel straight outta 1991 parked alongside.

Llanerch Diner Side Sign

To say I was disappointed would be overstating it, but it wasn’t, as I had hoped, this amazing experience. Not what I had expected, not the worst but certainly not the best.

I imagine it’s probably like meeting Megan Fox.


Along the way I made a side trip to get shots of the Anthony Wayne Theater in Wayne, PA, which I’ve added to the movie theaters page.

Anthony Wayne Theater, Wayne, PA

Side note: remembering my mention of Tommy Lee Jones in last week’s entry, Robert DeNiro also didn’t win Best Supporting Actor in 2012, which is also infuriating.

Christoph Waltz won for Django Unchained.