Lompoc’s Historic ‘Hi! Let’s Eat’ Sign Lands New Home
The “Hi! Let’s Eat” sign in Lompoc, which has been a local landmark since the 1960s, soon will have a new home. (Janene Scully / Noozhawk file photo)
From Noozhawk: A community-led effort has sparked new life and a new home for the historic “Hi! Let’s Eat” sign in Lompoc.
Ending a saga to rescue and restore the sign, it will be installed in front of American Host Restaurant at 113 North I St., with plans to celebrate its return during an unveiling ceremony at 5 p.m. Dec. 9.
“I just feel like it’s a fitting new home,” said American Host owner Dennis Block, who has lived in Lompoc since 1972. “I think the community feels that way from what I’ve heard. We’re proud and feel privileged to have the opportunity to continue the legacy of the sign and keep some history.”
Ghosts Signs of Philadelphia: Extinct Advertisements of 2022
A ghost sign for Resiman’s Pretzels on Lehigh Avenue was painted over in 2020. Photo: Jordan Keiffer
From Hidden City: The autumn reminds me of the cycle of the seasons. It is a time of immense beauty, where the changing colors capture everyone’s attention, but the reminder of the cold winter months lingers. This, too, is the life of a sign. They catch the eye of those passing by until it fades and are eventually lost forever.
Over the course of a year many of the once-visible ghost signs around Philadelphia are covered or lost. Sometimes the reasons for this are easy to understand, like when a new business moves in and wants to place its own sign on top of an old one. Other times, owners paint over a sign to make the building appear more attractive to the real estate market. Signs were never meant to last forever. Those that are still around are only temporary windows into the past. Preserving and repainting old signs often prolongs the life of these relics, but even those efforts could be thwarted by a new building owner or the biggest threat of all: time.
Let me tell you—look up to discover NYC’s ghost signs hiding in plain sight
A ghost sign holding its own among towering glass skyscrapers in Tribeca. Rossilynne Skena Culgan
From Timeout: Ghosts lurk among New York City’s buildings in wispy white colors telling tales of a different era in our city’s life—for those who are willing to pay attention, that is.
Painted on the sides of brick buildings, these old phantoms, called “ghost signs” or vintage signs, once advertised products in the way digital billboards do today. There’s a Sweet’N Low sign in Brooklyn, a faded Able Steel Equipment Co. ad in Long Island City, a Koppers’ Chocolate logo in the West Village and so many more throughout the city.
Lawrence Diner closes its doors
The Lawrence Diner at 267 Burnside Ave. in Lawrence closed on Nov. 6 after more than 70 years of serving food. HERNESTO GALDAMEZ/HERALD
From LIHerald.com: The aprons were hung up for the last time at Lawrence Diner on 267 Burnside Ave. as the longtime Five Towns fixture closed its doors on Nov. 6.
Many who patronized the diner expressed their reactions to the closing on Facebook as well as questioning what will come next. Valerie Hooper wrote the closing as an “end of an era” for the area as the diner had that unique look that brought you back in time.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen next,” said Maria Larocca Artusa. Paul Giordonello called the diner a “Five Towns landmark.”
The Daily Heller: John Baeder’s American Idols
From Printmag.com: “John Baeder: Looking Back” is the artist’s first exhibition at ACA Galleries in New York, and the first all-encompassing intro- and retrospective in a while. Comprising five decades of work from 1972–2018, the show includes some of the most famous diner paintings from the artist’s personal collection, his final series of Matchbook Cover paintings and his luminous still-life photographs.
For me, Baeder was a match made in dinerland. Around 40 years ago, I was admiring those quintessential American roadside eateries, thinking what a great book could be made of such uniformly customized ephemeral structures, when I saw paintings that made me drool. Hanging in OK Harris in SoHo were large photorealistic canvases of the very diners I was dreaming of. They were by John Baeder. This was the era of photorealism, and while I’d been impressed by the skill of many artists, I was in awe of Baeder’s passionate precision.