Summer Overgrowth

Ever since I stopped collecting physical objects and turned my attention to virtual pursuits, other hobbies seem to have started to grab my attention.

One of the things I'm doing is collecting old houses. Pictures of old houses, rather. And not necessarily just nice old houses.

This is one of the houses on the road by where I work. The road used to be busy with traffic between Martinsburg and Northern Virginia. That's different now that there's a new highway. And some changes are apparent.



I love seeing things like this in summer. Makes me think the vegetation is much stronger than what we normally give it credit for.





Here's a shot of the shed out back.



This place used to be a King's pizza when I first started at the place where I work eight years ago. I think I even picked up takeout there once.








And I love the way the vegetation is growing out even onto the telephone and power lines.



Thanks,
DCD

Affordable Wheels

This is the Affordable Wheels sign on Route 45 as you’re coming out of Martinsburg and headed towards Shepherdstown. There is no dealership, just the sign. To me, it’s kind of come to encapsulate Martinsburg.

I live in Martinsburg, WV by accident. Before I met my wife, she had decided to move out of her parent’s house and buy a house in Martinsburg for two reasons. One, it was much more affordable than Vienna, VA, and two, she liked the idea of living in the Blue Ridge Mountains. I ended up out here with her because I accidentally fell in love with her and chased her out here. Not taking “No” for an answer. It was an answer that had came up a lot.



When I first moved out to Martinsburg, I hated it. I couldn’t wait to get us moved back closer to “civilization”. But Martinsburg has grown on me, especially now that I no longer commute to an area closer to D.C., and now every time we visit “civilization” the traffic and stupidness kind of just leaves us sick.

When Lorie first moved here back in 1997, the area was booming. The mall was new and the outlet center was going strong and Martinsburg was where fancy people from D.C. came to do their outlet shopping. The outlets closed awhile ago, and Martinsburg has yet to recover. The city seems… old. Which means I’ve started to love it more than ever.



Martinsburg has a history dating back to the Civil War. And that’s great, but it’s not what’s on my mind today. Driving through town you can force your mind to imagine what the place must have been like in the 1940’s and 1950’s. The bustling factory area a few blocks from town center. The all-important downtown with its many shops that were a draw for everyone in the area. There’s a soda-fountain counter pharmacy that’s still open. There’s a train station with an old, unused, roundhouse. And as you tour around town you get the feeling that inhabitants of Martinsburg lived very close together and the center of the city was everything.



But our society and culture is different now. The need to live close to where you work and shop for supplies is completely gone. Martinsburg has spread out and prospered in other areas that used to be farm land, leaving the center of old town Martinsburg kind of desolate looking. There are efforts under way to revitalize downtown Martinsburg, but I’m not holding my breath for that to happen. Maybe it’s my age, but I don’t feel like people really need malls and areas to shop anymore. Toy stores and book stores are having severe trouble staying open. Those were always my two reasons to shop. What’s left? Clothes? Shoes?



The Affordable Wheels sign is cool. There used to be a cracking, overgrown parking lot and a two-story house here. When I first moved to Martinsburg, the house was no longer selling the wheels, but instead offered an enticing selection of satellite dishes. Then it went unused for years. It was torn down last year.



I can’t help but think about the guy in 1955 who came to the Affordable Wheels lot, extremely eager to buy his first car and enticed by the idea that it was ‘affordable’. Where is he now? Does he still have the car? Does he think about it when he passes this old lot with the Affordable Wheels sign? And does he think about what Martinsburg used to be? Did he buy comics at the old pharmacy downtown? Did he read pulp novels? Did he listen to Jack Benny on Sunday nights with his family in front of the giant radio? Did he use his new affordable wheels to take a date to the drive-in movie theater that was just a little ways down the road on route 45?



And would he see our culture and era as a sad dissolving of his way of life? Or would he view it as a magnificent vision of a bright and hopeful tomorrow?

Or would he just do the cliché thing and say “What… no flying cars yet?”

Thanks,
DCD

Buying Comics in Stephentown, NY

This is John Whitman's store. Where comics were sold in Stephentown, NY in 1952.




My father-in-law, Glenn Richards, grew up in Stephentown, NY. Glenn is the type of guy that can talk to anybody about anything. Although when you ask him about his childhood, he seems to get particularly excited. Old cars are his passion. But he'll tell you all about movies, TV shows, music, fashion (he was a greaser), and even a few memories about comics. Apparently, as a kid he and his friends would go to John Whitman's store and sit on the floor next to the rack holding comics and magazines and read comics to there hearts content.

I have no direct emotional connection to this memory. Yet, it still evokes a strong response from me. I want to be there, feeling the floorboards underneath my feet and watching as a group of kids make themselves content with stolen treats and piles of comics. The idea plays around in my head. Even if John Whitman's store was still standing and we were visiting it for the day, we still could not recreate this experience. There are just too many differences in the decades. Like a different world.

John Whitman's store burned down a long time ago. I've been there and stood in an empty lot where we imagined the store to be. I stared across the street and tried to envision I was in the store looking out the window. AND YES.... I'm just the kind of idiot who would try something like that.

Although, thanks to the incredible tool you can access at the following link, you can see what the comic rack may have looked like: Mike's Amazing Time Machine.



It always interests me to talk to people about what they did for fun when they were a kid. I feel that I can connect with them this way, as more often than not I can find a shared interest. When you turn the conversation to this topic, most people seem to light up. They find it easy to talk about there childhood passions. My wife Lorie has plenty of memories of playing in the court with neighbor friends. Her uncle Homer delights in telling me all about a guy he knew as a kid who pulled around a little wagon filled with comics and sold them for a nickel. My co-worker, Ralph, seems to have plenty of memories always consisting of a group of kids and a ball. Didn't matter which kind, just so long as they could start the game. My mother has strong memories of the TV shows she would watch and newspaper comic strips she would read.

They're called our formative years for a reason. And our choices in entertainment played a huge part in this. Comics, TV, movies, music, books, they make up the foundation of who we are. Sometimes they'll be low key, dimly remembered moments of the past. Sometimes they'll inform you're life decisions. If you know me, then you know that Captain Kirk and Superman play big roles in my character to this day.

So yeah, if you ask someone about their childhood memories and they got nothing to say... Well, don't trust them.


Thanks,
DCD