R.I.P., Rob...No, Not That Rob! The Other One!

Here's an odd coincidence: two men with similar names, whose obituaries appeared just one day apart.

Rob Lukens died Saturday of cancer, at the young age of 42.

Bob Lucas died last Friday, also of cancer, at the age of 75.

I knew the first one. Rob Lukens worked his way up from intern to president of the Chester County Historical Society in Pennsylvania.

He worked at other jobs over the years, from head of collections at Philadelphia's Chemical Heritage Foundation to the U.S. Capitol Visitor's Center in Washington, D.C. But he always came back to the Historical Society here in West Chester, PA.

I was one of those weird teenagers who did research in the Historical Society. Back in my youth, it was a dusty, underfunded mess. A lot of historical societies are like that.

Rob Lukens took that Historical Society and turned it into a vital, modern museum. He had an infectious energy that made you want to like him. He gave public lectures and wrote columns on history. He even hosted a weekly radio show on history on the local radio station.

And he left us much too soon.

Now, the OTHER Bob Lucas -- full name Robert A. Lucas -- I did not know. He ran a bar in Camden, NJ, called Donkey's Place.

They served a limited menu as well as drinks, specializing in cheesesteak sandwiches. The television show Anthony Bourdain: Parts Unknown featured Donkey's, and claimed that their cheesesteak might be the best in the area.

Which is interesting. But I didn't know Mr. Lucas, or ever eat at his Camden restaurant. His family also owns a restaurant, Donkey's Too, in Medford, NJ. I might have eaten there -- I've eaten at a lot of places in my time, some of which friends brought me to -- but I don't think so.

While I've forgotten the names of dozens of the places I've dined at, if your name is memorable, I recall it. Chink's. Chubby's. Donkey's. These I'd probably recall.

By the way, Chink's Steaks in North Philadelphia finally changed its controversial name this spring. It's now Joe's Steaks. Which is a name I could certainly forget.

Where There's Smoke....

I'm driving South through Brookhaven, PA.  Suddenly, fire engines and emergency vehicles appear behind me.  I pull over and let them pass.

Traffic is usually two lanes each way on this stretch of Edgemont Avenue - plus a central turning lane.  It was evidently built for just four lanes, so it's very tight.

Evidently, the emergency vehicles are blocking two or three lanes ahead, because traffic is down to a slowly-moving line.  But eventually I get up to where the fire trucks are, at the intersection of Edgemont Avenue and Brookhaven Road.

And the fire...is in...the smoke shop!  The big Rebel Indian Smoke Shop on the corner.

I assume that qualifies as irony.

Main Line Writers Group Meeting Tomorrow

The Main Line Writers Group will meet tomorrow, Wednesday 14 November 2012, at 7 pm.  The group usually meets on the third Wednesday of each month, but this month will meet a week early due to Thanksgiving.

The group will meet at Michael's Restaurant at 130 Town Center Road in King of Prussia, PA.

This month's meeting is called "Tools for Writers," and will feature a show-and-tell of items, techniques, and computer programs or websites that help the members write. 
 Most of our meetings have either a guest lecturer or feature a critique session, so this is a departure for us.  We will find out how successful it is.

If you're in the area, feel free to stop by!  Many of us arrive at 6 pm to eat dinner before the meeting.  Please note that Michael's Restaurant allows us the use of the room only as long as each attendee spends at least $10 apiece.

Explaining US Health Care to a Hapless Brit

I have a head cold, so I went to the drug store to get a decongestant. I wanted the stuff that actually works, containing pseudoephedrine. In my home state of Pennsylvania, you have to go up to the pharmacist's counter, show ID, and sign a release to purchase this. (Even if I wanted to, how much meth could I cook up with 18 tablets?)

In front of me at the counter was a British expat. He was astounded that his HMO had changed the rules on him as of January 1st. The medication he wanted would now cost him over $100. He was going on about how his HMO could be allowed to do this.

I stepped in to explain it to him:

Friend, you have to remember that health care in this country is a for-profit business. American health care is the same as other for-profit businesses, like the gambling industry or porn. Only with less integrity.

The pharmacist was not happy with me, but I got my decongestant. Business marches on.

A Yuletide Walk

Yesterday, Sunday, I had supper with my parents. With my father, I watched the Eagles trounce the Cowboys. Then, rather than go home, I took a walk around the borough where they live, West Chester, Pennsylvania.

If you're looking for lively Christmas lights, don't go to West Chester. Only around a quarter of the houses sport any sort of decoration at all. There are two reasons for this:

1. West Chester is a university town. The only town in Pennsylvania with more rentals is State College (home to Penn State). Most of the college students are home for the holidays, their rental properties dark for two weeks.
2. West Chester is also the county seat, so we have a plethora of lawyers. These are people who don't usually lift anything heavier than a brief. They don't tend to decorate their offices or residences.

Nevertheless, I enjoyed myself as I wandered up and down West Miner Street. It's a good street to walk on: many row houses, but upscale ones, with architecture worth looking at. Most of them are well over a hundred years old. And it was a good night to walk: unseasonably warm.

Some things I noticed on my walk:

The first place I lived in West Chester was the Old Everhart Mansion on West Miner Street. Too large for a modern family (without live-in servants), it had been divided into six rental units. My parents rented half the second floor, and I have good memories of that home. I was glad to see that the current residents of that unit had put Christmas lights up. A few years back it was damaged in a fire; it has been renovated, but the serpentine stone columns have been covered with stucco.

The First Presbyterian Church was designed in 1832 by noted architect Thomas U. Walter (1804-1887), who became famous for designing the dome of the U.S. Capitol Building in Washington. Despite this, the church building is fairly uninteresting, except for two massive Ionic columns out front. Some have praised its elegant simplicity; I think it's a giant white stucco box. Behind the columns is painted, in gilt letters, the word "PRESBYTERIAN." With a period. No one remembers why there's a period there. I suspect the sign painter was making an editorial comment of some sort.

Even the residences of Portico Row had few decorations. These are upscale row houses, so named because of their impressive porticoes. (I once dated a woman with an impressive portico, but that's a story for a different post.) For the first time, I noticed that many of the porches had dentil moulding. Odd...you usually see dentiling under the cornice, at the top of a building. I can't recall seeing it before on a porch. But you notice different things at night.

Major General Smedley Darlington Butler (1881-1940), once the most decorated U.S. Marine in history, lived on West Miner. After his retirement, some plutocrats tried to intice Butler to lead a coup against President Franklin Delano Roosevelt. Instead, Butler went public with what became known as The Business Plot. You can see a newsreel clip of Butler's statement to the nation on the documentary "The Corporation." Butler's home has been nicely restored, but there are piles of loose bricks stacked on the sidewalk. It's not a good idea to leave bricks about, where any drunk and pick one up and throw it. West Chester has many bars which produce many drunk college students.

Even though it was only around 7 pm, I saw few people. The houses on Miner Street are close enough to the curb that you can look in the windows. I saw many Christmas trees. Quite a few of the houses had floor-to-ceiling, built-in bookcases, all of them painted an unprepossessing white. Often, I saw the diseased blue glow of televisions. But I only saw one resident, an old man sitting in a lounge chair, reading. I was glad he wasn't watching television.

Tired of walking, I got back in my car and drove downhill. As in most towns, the poor people live in the areas with poor drainage. East Market Street is the heart of the African-American community in West Chester. I was hoping to see more Christmas lights here, but I was disappointed. The decorations were gaudier, but still few and far between.

Is the economy so bad that people aren't putting out Christmas decorations?