Keeping my tradition of singling out particularly smart business models, I’ll shift my focus away from the previous article’s burgeoning ice cream chain Kilwin’s and, this time, return my camera’s lens to an old standby: a roadside produce stand off State Route 1 (Coastal Highway) in southern Delaware. I say “return” because I visited this
Singling out an apparently unsuccessful business is even too cruel for a cad like me—especially when the business is still functional. (I have no problem conducting an entrepreneurial post-mortem though.) That said, since the business in question here not only is still operating but was in operation while I shot these pics, I have to
Perhaps I’m a bit late to the party, but I only heard of the neologism glamping about five years ago. The spellcheck service I use for writing my articles does not seem to recognize it. But Merriam-Webster does, and it claims that glamping came into currency around the year 2005. So it seems I’m a
I’m hardly the most well-versed person in typography —far less than a good old friend of mine who runs a burgeoning podcast on tales of the supernatural—but I enjoyed computer fonts enough as a child that I can still recognize some of the most prevalent ones from the late 80s up to the mid 90s.
It’s been a tough decade or so for the American retail scene, a condition I’ve explored numerous times in the past. Social turbulence, exacerbated by a pandemic and the erratic response to it, only further maimed an already hobbled industry, facing persistent pressure from online commerce. The fact remains that people just don’t go out
Strangely enough, this isn’t the first time I’ve covered flags and swimwear. It’s not even the second time. Judging from the tallies of the two topics, the count on flags vastly exceeds those of swimwear. I do love me some flags. As an (extremely) amateur vexillologist, I enjoy not just their origins in heraldry but
Over the last three decades, as bicycles have become a more commonly accepted means of getting around—especially in areas where they previously were a rare sight—the need to accommodate them when “docked” is more important. Sure, it’s usually perfectly reasonable to lock a bike to anything that’s already bolted to the ground: a parking meter,
We expect fancy displays at Macy’s for Christmas sales events. But Kroger or Albertson’s on St. Patrick’s Day?
We all have our weird hobbies, or even just predilections. For many years, I’ve been interested in art brut or outsider art—that is, any artistic expression in which the creator is largely untrained, self-taught, or taught outside of an academic setting. Such an aesthetic position may seem synonymous with folk art or naïve art—the former
When green means stop: the impact of classic neon lighting in the wireless era, from West Virginia with love.
If a good sign is worth more than its weight in canvas, plastic, fiberglass, cardboard, or whatever material helped birth it, a good old sign earns even more accolades, as multiplied by the number of years it has done its job. (Weight of the material multiplied by its age?) The perseverance of a good sign
Loathe as I am to wade into a subject this topical, the spatial ramifications of it are just as interesting than the content itself—probably more. So, here goes nothing: That small, seemingly innocuous orange and purple sign makes an urgent plea, the context of which should be obvious: the public schools in question are closed