The saga of dropping quirky objects on New Year's Eve; farewell to classic NYC neon signs; hope flickers for a long-shuttered theater | Retrologist's Roadside Roundup
Plus, a 'bum steer' for the iconic Good Steer restaurant, a beloved roadside chain is 'Unstuck' and other headlines from the American road.
Happy New Year, everyone!
Before we get into the weeds, I’d like to take this opportunity to thank all of you who have subscribed to my newsletter. Over the past week, I’ve received a rush of new subscribers, thanks to my Pizza Hut Classic post going viral again, and I wanted to welcome all of you to the Retrologist fold.
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Well, onward to 2024. But first, a quick rewind to the last minute of 2023.
Quirky “ball drops” are becoming increasingly popular coast to coast. Yesterday, I told you about the giant M&M drop in Hackettstown, New Jersey, where they’ve made the tiny candies since 1958. Over 10,000 people turned out downtown to attend the inaugural event. I bet you a fistful of M&Ms — which would never melt there, by the way — that the tradition will be back on Dec. 31, 2024.
A quick survey finds many more food-drop traditions, which, if consumed together, would make one heck of a gut-wrenching meal. (Do they drop a giant Pepto Bismol bottle somewhere? Asking for a friend.)
In Tucson, Arizona, they drop a giant taco emblazoned with the Taco Bell logo. Yo quiero see this one day!
This year, for the first time, Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania, dropped a giant blueberry. (This seems like something they should do at Wild Blueberry Land in Columbia Falls, Maine.)
Mount Olive, North Carolina, drops a big pickle. (They have a pickle company in town, or I suppose they’d be dropping a giant olive. Somebody somewhere must be dropping a giant olive — or needs to.)
The folks in Whiting, Indiana, drop a big pierogie. (Seems like Mrs. T’s Pierogies in Shenandoah, Pennsylvania, is dropping the ball on a big opportunity!)
Boise, Idaho, has an o-boisterous tradition of dropping a big potato! What else would Boise drop?
New York City’s Times Square, the granddaddy of them all, drops a giant ball — this year featuring a new bow-tie design — but for much of the 1980s, Gotham was in the food game too, dropping, naturally, a Big Apple as part of the “I Love New York” campaign.
Of course, it’s not just depictions of giant food that are dropped in communities nationwide. Rockport, Massachusetts, for example, drops a ball, not a giant rock. Why, I ask, do they not drop a giant rock? The Haines Shoe House on the Lincoln Highway — which is now a place you can stay overnight — dropped a smaller version of itself. Yes, the other shoe DID drop!
As you can see, the only limit to what can be dropped is a community’s imagination!
What are your favorite quirky New Year’s drop traditions?
Lights out: The neon we lost in NYC in 2023
It’s become a right of passage, one I look forward to even if it’s tinged with sadness: My friend, the author Tom Rinaldi, has published his annual compendium of neon signs New York lost in the previous year.
As Tom, the author of “New York Neon,” writes:
This year's death toll is a bit higher than that of previous years, sadly, perhaps a measure of what seems to be an intensified development frenzy that has come to grip the city in the wake of the pandemic slowdown.
You’ll find some familiar and iconic signs on his list — some are gone, others were LEDed and lost much of their charm, and still others seem doomed despite hints of hope.
I’ve shared the fate of some of these signs on The Retrologist over the last year, including Neil’s Coffee Shop, Alleva Dairy, Pioneer Supermarket and Papaya King.
He also includes Starlite Deli, which is plastic but worthy of requiem. It is no longer at its longtime perch in Times Square but is in the safe hands of Noble Signs and its New York Sign Museum, and I had the pleasure of seeing it in its new home last month.
One loss that particularly hurts is the inevitable departure of the long-shuttered Garry Jewelers in Park Slope. See it below, and weep.
Just for laughs …
Now, here is a needed antidote to the litany of sad news. My hometown McDonald’s in Tarrytown, New York — thankfully still rocking its mid-1970s sign — is in NO hiring mood. And NOW you know. :)
… and just for tears
This shuttered Burger King, a mid-1970s gem along the Woodside-Jackson Heights border in Queens, New York, was demolished last week.
Here it is during happier times, including a look inside. Sad to see a cool interior like this go:
Farewell to a 1970s Burger King; long-hidden Coca-Cola sign from around 1910 saved; a perfect 1960s Arby's you must see to believe; and much more | Rolando's Roadside Roundup
We all have “My” restaurants. You know, “My” McDonald’s. “My” Taco Bell. “My” Wendy’s. You know, a place near you that’s always been there, or so it seems. You may not eat there very often or at all. You may be so calorie and cholesterol conscious that you wouldn’t be caught dead in one, for fear of ending up, well, dead. “Your” restaurant may simply serv…
Hope flickers in downtown Sleepy Hollow
Strand was a common name for theaters in the early 20th century. I just posted one today to my Threads page. “My” Strand is on Beekman Avenue in Sleepy Hollow, New York, where I grew up and visit regularly, though, for most of this theater’s life, the village was called North Tarrytown.
The theater opened in the Vaudeville era of 1915 and came equipped with movie-projection equipment. It reportedly closed in 1961, then reopened and closed repeatedly through the late 1970s.
The first movie I ever saw in a theater was here — “Close Encounters of the Third Kind” — in September 1977.
If memory serves, the last movie screened here was “Coma,” released in 1978. This suspicion is based purely on the fact that a poster for the movie — a body dangling ominously from wires — remained showcased in the display case for several years, slowly crinkling.
I was always a little scared of that poster. I was a grade-schooler when I’d pass the theater daily while walking to parochial school down Beekman Avenue.
In the 1980s, The Strand played new roles, serving stints as a roller rink, teen dance club, and Salvation Army outpost before becoming a branch of the Open Door health clinic.
Today, it sits empty and has for many years now. There is an effort afoot to secure grant money to convert The Strand into an arts and performance center.
I’ve long viewed The Strand and Beekman Avenue as a sleeping giant awaiting revival. Beekman, though not without its charms, has long lagged the vibrant Main Street retail scene in adjacent Tarrytown.
With huge and pricey residential developments along the Hudson River — just a short walk down the avenue — it seems inevitable that a building as central and historic as The Strand will find a new and exciting use, helping to lift the retail scene here, even if it’s cosmetic at first. Two storefronts were destroyed in a fire just down the street more than a decade ago, and the lot remains vacant, a veritable jungle of weeds and Trees of Heaven.
We shall see how this all plays out, but I’m glad The Strand is still in the picture.
Bullet Points from the Byways and Highways
Denver’s iconic Benjamin Moore Paints scaffold neon sign has been removed and destroyed. A “cleaner” LED replacement was installed in its place. At least one of the letters, an “I,” was saved. Benjamin Moore is said to rebuffed offers to purchase the sign, because they didn’t want anyone “re-selling the image.” The project had the blessing of the local landmarks board, which is said to have determined the original sign was beyond repair. It’s baffling and maddening all at once. Here’s the story … what do you think?
It was bad enough when Burbank’s Pickwick Bowl closed. Now, the building has been demolished to make way for townhomes.
Tim Hortons is pushing farther south into the greater Philadelphia area.
Meet the Florida man who bought a Pennsylvania mall, and is remarkably lifting the Johnstown Galleria in Cambria County from dead-mall status.
A last look at Terrible’s Hotel & Casino, once the Gold Strike casino, which is under demolition in Jean, Nevada. Terrible Herbst’s Chevron station, which this article says is the world’s largest of that brand, survives in town. I hope the prospector statue outside of the former casino survives, too.
Congrats to my friend Stephanie Stuckey, who is on a remarkable and inspiring mission to revive her family company, the iconic roadside standby Stuckey’s. She is writing a book about her nostalgia-infused turnaround of the beloved brand. Called “Unstuck,” the book has a brilliant cover. Check it out here and give Stephanie a follow.
This Stuckey’s sign is part of the collection of the American Sign Museum in Cincinnati, Ohio. (Rolando Pujol) Rosebud, a Chicago dining institution of almost 50 years, is closing for diners but will reemerge as a speakeasy.
Long Island’s beloved Good Steer restaurant, opened in 1957 and closed in 2022, has been sold. The cozy inside is being or has been ripped out. I went here once and it remains a warm memory. Enjoy my photos, above.
Thank you for the update on the Starlite Deli sign. I had many breakfasts, iced coffees, and lunches there when I worked across the street at 1515 Broadway. Happy new year to you!
“The other shoe did drop”! 😂