The American Sign Museum held a little party on Thursday to celebrate its quarter-century of existence. Things got underway at 5:00, which was a bit before sunset, but by the time I exited the museum and took this photo, it was full-on nighttime. I’m sure it was no accident that the members-only party coincided with an open-to-the-public Glow in the Dark event, with the external signs powered on and looking glorious in the darkness.

But first things first. After picking up a beverage in the party area, I stepped back into the museum’s Main Street to check out progress on the Frisch’s Mainliner sign. While there, museum founder Tod Swormstedt stopped to say hi, and our chat included pointing out some sign updates. Holes in the airplane body that originally held lights but were epoxied over when the lights were removed have once again been cleared, and stainless steel panels that had been more or less destroyed over the years by alterations have been remade and reinstalled. It is going to be very interesting to watch this restoration unfold.

Anyone who has visited an old school service station or workshop is familiar with collections of cups and jars holding assorted nuts, bolts, and screws gruelingly assembled from past projects and other sources. Although not officially on display, here is the American Sign Museum’s version of that seen through the currently clear windows of Loomis Camera.
The Society for Commercial Archeology offers a monthly Zoom presentation on a variety of interesting subjects. It started during the stay-at-home days of the COVID pandemic and has continued. The most recent presentation was from Andrew and Kelsey McClellan on their book The Golden Era of Sign Design. The McClellans were part of the team that saved this Ward’s Bakery sign, and its discovery and preservation were part of their presentation. I naturally sought it out on this, my first museum visit after the Zoom event. A recording of the presentation can be viewed here.

I probably should have mentioned earlier that the museum’s name for this event was Clink! and the invitation was to “Join us for cocktails and light bites as we celebrate 25 years of preserving the art and history of American signage.” Formal activities were pretty much confined to truly brief comments from Museum Director David Dupee and Tod, and those comments were pretty much confined to thanking people who made the museum and those 25 years possible.


Clink! had been scheduled around the publication and availability of a book documenting the museum’s history, and that worked out, although the timing was quite close. Those who had preordered could pick up our copies, and copies were also available for purchase. The book looks fantastic (I’ll review it soon), and getting my copy signed by Tod and photographer Natalie Grilli makes it even better.

Glow in the Dark activities included a neon bending demonstration and at least one guided tour of the big sign garden mounted on the south side of the museum building. Touring the garden at night with a guide looked very interesting, and I immediately put it on my list. But right now I have a book to read.
ADDENDUM 8-Dec-2025: The book has been read, reviewed, and recommended:
Book Review American Sign Museum: Celebrating 25 Years Roberts, Grilli, Kikkert
It’s probably not hard to guess that this post was triggered by two recent reviews of books with titles (


There has always been a GPS in my car, starting with the very first of my documented road trips. The earliest ones I used showed me my position on a map and the straight-line distance to cities and other places. They did not offer routing. I actually doubt that routing was even possible before the government dropped “selective availability”, which limited the accuracy of civilian receivers, in 2000. I acquired a unit capable of routing in 2006 and started plotting downloadable routes for my trips. This included some partial Route 66 outings using directions in a first-edition EZ66 Guide, which I’d bought from Jerry in 2005. For my third full-length trip in 2012, I used a store-bought route.
That title may look familiar. If so, one reason might be the similarly named Route 66: The First 100 Years, reviewed
Route 66: 100 Years is an anthology edited by Jim Hinckley of
Like the beginning pages of many books about historic highways, the introduction includes tales of how the early automobile roads followed native trails, animal migration paths, and train tracks. And it talks about the impact that the popularity of bicycles had on the desire for and development of roads outside of cities toward the end of the 19th century. What makes it a little different from most similar writings is that it provides some details about organizations and specific events during road development during this era of pedal-powered transportation.
The state chapters appear in geographic sequence, east to west, which is the direction most people travel the route. Together, they provide a sort of combination travel guide and history lesson. I’m not talking about a travel guide with turn-by-turn directions, motel phone numbers, and such. However, most towns along the route are mentioned — and US 66 was a great connector of small towns — along with numerous points of interest. There is usually some history given about each town and POI, and there is plenty of history about the route itself.
The book is definitely well-illustrated. I don’t believe there is a single page, besides the index and authors’ bios, without at least one image. These include modern and period photographs, postcards, advertising brochures, and other items. Joe Sonderman supplied some of those postcards and brochures, as did big-time collectors Mike Ward and Steve Rider. I was extremely pleased to see a photo from the collection of the late Laurel Kane included. Many of the modern photos were taken by Jim Hinckley and his wife, Judy. I saw no photos from either Rhys Martin or Greg Hasman, although I know both are excellent photographers. I did see photos from Shutterstock, Alamy, and Getty. I thought both situations were curious, but the final product comes off well.
The quality of the book is quite good. Color and black-and-white images show nicely on the heavyweight glossy pages, and the layout serves them well. All have descriptive cut lines that include source credits. There are numerous sidebars, most with their own images, providing extra information outside of the main text flow.
The individual states that carried US 66 account for eight chapters. The book has nine. Dries Bessels, a resident of the Netherlands, authored a chapter named “Renaissance”. Dries has guided multiple tours down the length of Route 66 and provides an outside-the-country view of the historic road. The “renaissance” he writes about is its emergence as a travel destination for both Americans and foreigners after being bypassed and decommissioned. America, essentially spared the devastation that WWII brought to Europe, was the land of dreams to post-war Europeans, and Route 66 was a tangible thing that rolled right through those dreams. Today, Route 66 is still regarded as a way to experience a diverse range of America.




























Frogman is a horror movie. I’m pretty sure the last horror movie that I paid to see in a theater was The Exorcist in 1973. I did that because I liked the book. I went to see Frogman because I liked the festival.



































































