Pretzel #2–Blobs and Beers

October 2, 2026October 2, 2026 steveboilardLeave a comment

Bistro on Bridge (Phoenixville, PA)

I write this from an altitude of 31,000 feet, aboard a Southwest flight to Baltimore. I’m on my way to PoeFest, where my book Potable Poe: Cocktails of Mystery and Imagination (Fulcort Press, 2025) is (shockingly) a finalist for Poe Baltimore’s coveted literary award. A few moments ago I tried explaining the point and purpose of PoeFest to my seatmate, and I fear that I came across as a nutcase. Me: “It’s a gathering of people who like Poe’s writing!” Seatmate (sounding like Colombo): “But what exactly do you do?” Me: “Well, like we listen to people doing readings of Poe’s works!” Seatmate: “But haven’t you already read them all?” Me: “Well, we also go to Poe’s gravesite and drink a cognac toast to him.” Seatmate: “Flight attendant! Can I be moved please?”

Now, attentive readers will recall that earlier this summer I attended BlobFest, which, as should be evident from the name, is a fest(ival) celebrating the 1958 horror classic “The Blob.” Gatherings such as PoeFest and BlobFest don’t simply allow us to pay homage to a great writer or a great (or maybe mediocre) movie. And they don’t simply provide opportunities to study societal subgroups. More than anything, I think, these events allow us to get a better understanding of ourselves. Why did I come here? What is it about this event that appeals to me? What kinds of people do I choose to associate with? Where did my wallet go?

I think all of us have different facets or dimensions that we tend to only reveal when we’re around similar people. So I get my Poe on at PoeFest and I get my Blob on at BlobFest. What? You don’t do this as well?

In any event, there’s a reason I’m bringing all this up, and that’s because, while I was at BlobFest, which takes place annually in beautiful downtown Phoenixville, PA (pop: 19,000), I had lunch at a place called Bistro on Bridge, which has a relaxed outdoor dining area with a view of the historic Colonial Theater (which, you will recall, was the site of a crucial scene in The Blob).

And what did I see on the menu but a pretzel. The description was pretty minimalist: All it said was:

I decided to throw caution to the wind and order one of these bad boys. To my surprise it turned out to be a much more elaborate presentation than the minimalist description suggested. It’s the size of a Miata’s front tire, and it’s hung on its own stainless steel hook-stand. The hook-stand is in turn placed on a rustic wooden serving board, and the aforementioned beer cheese and spicy dijon mustard are nestled at the base. This is not just a pretzel; it is an event.

Before digging in I made a quick visual inspection of the pretzel itself. It sports an enticing mahogany color and presents some of the characteristic cracking that, to my mind, serves the same function as the celebrated “nooks and crannies” in Thomas’s English Muffins.

But, as with so many beautifully-presented foodstuffs, shortcomings become evident once you actually eat it. For starters, the salt was carelessly and haphazardly applied, resulting in half the pretzel tasting a low-sodium snack food and half resembling a salt lick. Second, the pretzel was too bready. Not even the nooks and crannies could surmount this fatal flaw. Third, as the pretzel cooled it became tougher and tougher, until it resembled that Miata tire in texture as well as shape. I strongly suspect that this pretzel was microwaved. Supporting this theory is the fact it arrived, piping hot, just moments after I ordered it.

And then there’s the beer cheese. It was thin to the point of watery, and quickly developed a rubbery skin on the surface, much the way Jack in the Box’s nacho cheese sauce congeals if you don’t eat it it fast enough. I suspect this so-called beer cheese was some kind of pre-fab condiment they buy by the barrel.

The mustard was good though. The taste was intense and horseradish-forward, reminiscent of Grey Poupon Deli Dijon. Being as piquant and potent as it was, the mustard worked together with the Nooks and Crannies to mask, or at least distract from, the pretzel’s other sins. This was one of the few times I preferred the mustard to the beer cheese.

And so, in the end, I managed to down a little over half the pretzel….until the mustard ran out. Still, I can’t say I enjoyed it as much as I should have. And so I am awarding it 3 stars, which is somewhere between “meh” and “I’ve had worse.”

PRETZEL TRIVIA

1n 1963, Joseph Nacchio of the Federal Pretzel Baking Company in south Philly made a 20-pound pretzel in connection with the mapcap movie It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World. Even though this claim is repeated all over the Internet, I cannot find how, exactly, the pretzel relates to the film. Some say it appeared in one of the hardware-store basement scenes with Sid Caesar and Edie Adams, but I just finished watching those scenes on YouTube and there’s no sign of a giant pretzel. Others say the pretzel was used as a “promotional stunt” for the movie–a claim that raises more questions than it answers. But I can find no elaboration on this point, or any evidence that it actually happened. I would welcome any clarification from any film historians among my readership.

But what is reasonably well documented is that Joseph Nacchio also made a second, larger pretzel which was deemed the largest in the world at that time (1963). It weighed 40 pounds and measured five feet across. Interestingly, the width of the pretzel is the same as the interior width of a Studebaker Avanti that was manufactured in that same year. I know this because I own one. (The car, not the pretzel.)

It should be noted that the current record for the world’s largest pretzel was set in 2015 in San Salvador, El Salvador. It weighed about 1,700 pounds, or exactly half as much as a Studebaker.

Ladies and Gentlemen: Blobfest!

July 11, 2026 steveboilardLeave a comment

Finally–after over two years of waiting, this morning I finally returned to Phoenixville, PA (pop: 18,600) to attend the 26th annual Blobfest.

This has got to be one of the high points of the year for Phoenixville. Most of the main drag (Bridge Street) was closed to vehicular traffic, and well over 100 vendors were setting up tables to promote their blob-related (or blog-adjacent) wares.

Many of the businesses along the street got into the spirit of things, with blob-themed displays everywhere. Now, let me take a moment to acknowledge that “blob-themed) is a rather malleable category…by definition. Some chose to portray it as a cute figure reminiscent of Western Kentucky University’s “Big Red.”

Others opted for oozing slime which was more reminiscent of blood than “blob.”

Still others went the circus route, which is the ill-advised theme of this year’s Blobfest.

And then there was this….pizza(?)

Anyway, my point is that the entire town (or at least the Bridge Street) was decked out for a proper Blobfest. The festivities were attended by myriad people of all ages and dispositions. Accordingly, there was a play zone and a story time for the little blobs:

Happily, two of the Blobfest attendees were horror author Holly Knightley and her mother, April. They were game to do a photo op from within the blob:

*Holly (left) and April meet their demise.*

(You can check out Holly’s books here.)

Also in the Small World Department: I ran into Ashley Galleo, who is the manager of the American Treasure Tour, that I wrote about in yesterday’s blog. I asked Ashley what binds together the disparate items in that collection, and she said the anonymous collector seeks out things that are “mechanical and fun,” and that bring “joy.” Next time you’re in eastern Pennsylvania, you should check it out.

*Ashley with a minuscule sample from the American Treasure Tour.*

But the real star of the Blobfest was the historic Colonial Theater. Originally constructed in 1902 as the Colonial Opera House, it has spent the one-and-a-quarter century as a vaudeville house, a live performance venue, and a movie theater. Notably for our purposes, key scenes from The Blob were filmed in and around the Colonial Theater.

*My photo from this morning, before Blobfest started. Note the marquee display is the same. Also note the inflatable blob.*

I joined a packed house for a screening of The Blob this afternoon. The interior of the theater looks much like it did in 1958, and probably much earlier than that.

*Mystery mural on the mezzanine level. I couldn’t discover what it depicts. Ideas?*

And the back of the house, on the wall of the projection booth, is this plaque:

Now might be a good time to explain the movie to those of you who haven’t seen it. It’s a classic B-movie horror film, starring a young Steve McQueen. A small meteorite strikes the earth, and it contains a softball-sized “blob” of gelatinous goo. A hapless old man ends up getting the goo stuck on his hand, and before long the blob has entirely digested him, growing in the process. The blob goes on to claim other victims, until it’s big enough to cover an entire diner. Finally Steve McQueen figures out how to stop its reign of terror, but you’ll have to watch it (or search IMDB) to find out how.

Let’s acknowledge that this is not a great movie. The pacing is uneven, the dialogue is (unintentionally) laughable, the “special effects” are unconvincing, and there are plot holes aplenty. Still, it’s an earnest movie, and Steve McQueen is eminently likable. On top of all that, there’s a moral lesson at the end that bears a special resonance today. But I think what I enjoyed most about watching it today was sitting in that same Colonial Theater, with several hundred fans, cheering and laughing together. There aren’t many such opportunities for a communal experience like that these days.

Oh, and speaking of communal experiences: after the evening showing all the patrons ran out of the theater screaming, just like in the movie. I’ll close my report on Blobfest with this short video of the run-out:

BOTD

The Brew of the Day was, appropriately, a Blobfest IPA, that comes from Phoenixville’s own SlyFox Brewing Company.

*You could only buy draft versions for consumption, so I had the owner hold up a can of the stuff for your benefit.*

This is the third year that SlyFox has put out a special beer for Blobfest. I admire that kind of commitment–especially as several of the local bars and eateries have offered nothing blob-related. In fact, that window art of a blob ice cream cone that I featured above was not available as the real thing. Talk about a missed opportunity!

So kudos to SlyFox for doing the Blob IPA. It’s a hazy IPA that clocks in at 6.3 percent alcohol. So that’s good. What’s not good is the taste. I found it far too bitter, too overhopped. And that’s not just on the palate; it also characterizes the finish. In other words, there’s a distinct, lingering bitterness….which also describes me, but that’s another issue altogether. I frankly found this to be almost undrinkable, and ending up tossing it out halfway through.

Now, to be fair, I’m not a fan of IPAs, but I think I can appreciate when they’re done well. In my humble opinion, the recipe missed on this one. One star.

movie theaters · Movies · Muffler Men

BlobFest 2026

July 10, 2026July 10, 2026 steveboilard1 Comment

Alert readers will recall that about two years ago, while traveling in Pennsylvania on a secret mission, I stumbled upon the old Colonial Theater in Phoenixville, where parts of the 1958 movie The Blob was filmed. Marquee posters informed me that every summer the theater hosts BlobFest, which honors that film and, presumably, the larger genre of classic B movies. I mused that it would be fun to come back for BlobFest one day.

Well friends, “one day” has arrived!

Blobfest begins tonight at 7 pm, and I will be there! I just landed in Philadelphia, and once I get my Blobmobile from Avis, I’ll make my way toward Phoenixville. And for those of you unfortunate enough to miss Blobfest this year, I’ll be ~~blobbing~~ blogging from the Colonial Theater. Stay tuned; you won’t want to miss it!

*“Blobs, blogs…this is starting to sound fishy…”*

Until then, I’d like to share these…

Muffler Man Sightings

Loyal reader Brian W sent us this photo he took of a Muffler Man in Wilmington, IL.

This is a classic muffler man, with the distinctive hand positions and that same determined half-grin that was worn by Babe at Babe’s Mufflers in San Jose. This one is huge, standing 30 feet tall. Just look how it dwarfs the picnic table!

According to my research, this muffler man–which is named “Gemini Giant”–was installed at a restaurant on Route 66 in the 1960s. That restaurant was originally named “Dari-Delite,” but was rebranded as “The Launching Pad” in a cynical but successful effort to capitalize on the then-extant space race. He was outfitted with a space helmet (which to me looks like a welding helmet) and a handheld rocket which, confusingly, is labeled “Launching Pad.”

Gemini Giant soon became one of the most famous attractions along Route 66, and the Launching Pad served hungry travelers for over sixty years, until finally closing down in 2022. The Gemini Giant sold for $275,000 (!) at auction in 2024, purchased by the local historical museum. It now stands at the entrance of South Island Park in Wilmington.

Meanwhile, loyal reader Chris F. sent us this photo of a Paul Bunyan-themed muffler man in Coeburn, Virginia.

*Note that Paul Bunyan has traded in his axe for a fishing pole.*

Chris helpfully provided several links verifying this muffler man’s provenance. He’s a 20-foot-tall statue from International Fiberglass, and was first installed in front of Palmer Hardware in the Elkhart, Indiana in 1967. The hardware store experienced several ownership changes, and along the way the muffler man’s clothing colors and handheld implements changed as well. In 2011 the hardware store closed for good, and the muffler man was relocated to Coeburn, VA, where he stands in front of the Red Oak Trading Company.

Both of today’s muffler men appear on Wikipedia’s official list. I’m still holding out hope that we can locate a new one that’s not on the list!

Breweries · bridges · California history · Cars · movie theaters · Road trips · Yard art

Been There, Done That, Got the T-Shirt

August 29, 2025 steveboilardLeave a comment

This morning I headed downstairs from my motel room to partake of the “free” breakfast. Then I spotted this sign in the breakfast room:

*But a “D” is technically passing right? At least that’s what I used to tell my parents when I brought home my report card.*

Instead of the motel breakfast, I got a gas-station coffee and donut. I then got onto the U-28 scenic byway, which carves its way through the Colorado River gorge towards Grand Junction. It was so spectacular it even made my donut taste good.

*That’s the muddy Colorado River on the left.*

*A perfect setting for a Western…which it has been, many times.*

After maybe half an hour of driving I came across a pedestrian suspension bridge that crosses the Colorado River. Attentive readers will recall that I’m a sucker for these things, so I looked for a place to pull over and sway my way across the (not-so-) mighty Colorado.

So imagine my disappointment when I discovered that the bridge’s decking was entirely missing.

*…but wait–what’s wrong with this picture?*

Turns out the Dewey Bridge (for that’s its name) was built in 1916 and is Utah’s longest suspension bridge. It was fully restored in 2000….and eight years later some kid was playing with matches and the whole thing went up in flames.

*Kids, don’t play with matches! (2008 photo from Wikipedia Commons.)*

A sad and ghostly air hangs about the skeleton of the Dewey Bridge. It set back my good mood a bit.

A little later I came to the town of Fruita, Colorado (pop: 13,400). I could live in this town. It’s one of those places that’s figured out how to preserve its history, cater to modern tastes, create a livable community, and attract tourists. The town is jammed with public art, and the main street has plenty of outdoor cafes and benches to relax, have a cup of coffee, and watch the world go by. It seems that most of the buildings along Main Street are historic and well-preserved or restored.

One public art installation that made me scratch my head was this rooster with no head:

A friendly fellow drinking coffee at an outdoor table noticed me photographing the sculpture and gave me the story of Mike the Headless Chicken. (Trigger warning for those sensitive about food preparation by carnivores.) It seems that in 1945, a local farmer by the name of Lloyd Olsen was attempting to behead one of his chickens for dinner. His aim was a little off, and most of the chicken’s brain stem remained with the body. The chicken survived his beheading, flapping his wings and running around headlessly. What was Lloyd to do? He spent the next year and a half carefully feeding Mike (for that was the chicken’s name) individual kernels of corn through the throat and addressing Mike’s thirst with milk and water from an eyedropper. Mike became a sideshow attraction and gained national fame. Indeed, I remember reading about Mike in a “Ripley’s Believe It Or Not” paperback in the 1960s. Fruita still remembers Mike with the sculpture, T-shirts and other souvenirs, and an annual “Mike the Headless Chicken Festival” each spring. I am not making this up.

Fruita also has a lot of non-headless-chicken art around town. In fact, I noticed that many of the towns in eastern Utah and western Colorado feature interesting public art installations. Here is a sampling:

*Sculpture honoring children’s music teacher David Carl Moore in Delta, Colorado.*

*Windrider Custom Cycles sculpture in Delta.*

*Sculpture at Dennis Weaver Memorial Park in Ridgway, Colorado. Dennis Weaver (I remember him as McCloud from the NBC television series) reportedly loved eagles and lived in Ridgway for many years.*

I also randomly ran into these women playing the tubular bells (?) xylophones(?) that are installed at the park. Somehow I think Dennis Weaver would have appreciated it.

*I’m not sure if it technically qualifies as art, but there is a large number of long-parked classic cars on both sides of the street in downtown Delta, Colorado.*

Also related to this theme of public art is the 1928 Egyptian Theater in Delta. It’s obviously been loving restored, and it regularly shows movies and hosts performances. It’s much smaller than the Egyptian Theater in Hollywood, but it similarly reflects the fascination with all things Egyptian in that era.

But let’s get back to the purpose of today, which was to complete my trek to Placerville, Colorado. You’ll recall that the California version of Placerville was originally called Hangtown, and the tree where those hangings took place (in 1849) stood on Main Street for many years. Even though it was cut down in 1853, the stump remains in the basement of an old Main Street building, where a dummy perpetually hangs from a noose.

*Photo by the author, from my 2021 blog post about Placerville, CA.*

So it was auspicious that, just as I was getting close to Placerville, Colorado, I spotted this hangman’s tree in the town of Montrose:

*According to the sign, George Bikford was hanged from this tree for robbery and “horse stealin'” in 1878.*

And so, with that preface, I finally came to the storied town of Placerville, Colorado. Let’s just say it wasn’t exactly El Dorado.

*This is seriously about all there is to the town.*

Pretty much all that makes up Placerville is a post office, a general store, a storage facility, and a few houses. In the 1800s it was a mining boom town, but as with many boom towns, the mines dried up and the population went elsewhere. Later, the failure of the local Trout Lake Dam in 1909 wiped out most of what remained.

But be that as it may, I think we can declare this mission a success.

And (shockingly) I was even able to purchase Placerville merch at the general store!

*I was hoping for “My husband drove from Placerville to Placerville and all I got was this stupid T-shirt.”*

BREW OF THE DAY

We have a winner!

In the town of Ridgway, Colorado (pop: 1,300) I stopped in at the Floating Lotus Brewery. It’s a friendly, casual place with an airy atmosphere, two outdoor patios, a stage for live music, and a great view of the neighboring property where John Wayne filmed some scenes from True Grit. Owner/Brewmaster Kenny Conley hooked me up with his favorite beer: the Blastoplast IPA.

This was hands down the best beer I’ve had on this trip. Of course, that’s an admittedly low bar. But this is seriously a tasty brew. Unlike so many modern IPAs, this one is perfectly balanced. It’s not too hoppy, not to carbonated, not too pungent. At the same time, it’s flavorful and a bit “richer” than you’d expect from an IPA, without the astringent IPA afterburn you sometimes experience by the end of the glass. And at 6.3 percent ABV, I’d say the alcohol content is right where it should be. This is a five-star brew.

*Kenny at his post. If you ever find yourself in Ridgway, or even in the vicinity of Telluride, pay him a visit!*

Breweries · bridges · Cars · Gas stations · movie theaters · Road trips · Yard art

The final stretch

June 10, 2025 steveboilard2 Comments

Today I drove the final stretch of Route 20’s original route, which terminates at the eastern entrance to Yellowstone. I left the lads in TenSleep this morning, and rejoined US 20 at Worland, Wyo. From there I headed north to Greybull, and then east to Yellowstone. The whole drive was about 170 miles…and then another 170 miles to get back to TenSleep!

It was a great day for a drive. The weather was perfect, and there was no traffic. It was just me and the open skies. This part of the country, with its solitude and natural beauty, is growing on me.

I picked up where I’d left off a couple of days ago at Worland (pop: 4,800). Worland is a tidy and practical town, where the good folks of TenSleep and other surrounding communities go when they need a supermarket or various specialty stores. It’s also a reasonably attractive community, with a number of western art installations like this one that commemorates the pioneers.

It felt good to be back on US 20 West, with the familiar white signs and the commodious US-standard lanes. Early in today’s trip I came to Manderson, Wyoming (pop: 3,900), where a veritable graveyard of old farm equipment and buses stretches along the side of the road. It’s evidently a vehicle recycling and/or consignment operation, where tractors go to die. The hearse at the edge of the property seems to drive home the point.

*Just a small portion of their collection.*

Once I was heading east out of Greybull, the endless prairie began to give way to the peaks and crags of the Bighorn and Owl Creek mountain ranges, and fast-flowing Shoshone River gorge. The passing scenes reminded me of the settings for a John Ford movie.

Even though most of US 20 is designated the Medal of Honor Highway, a segment east of Cody was designated the Wild Horse Highway just a few years ago. This segment borders BLM lands where a herd of about 100 wild mustangs still roam the McCullough Peaks range.

Horses are of course an iconic element of the West. They were brought to the Americas by Spanish missionaries and explorers several hundred years ago. Evidently a number of those horses escaped during the pueblo revolts, and descendants of those horses still roam the plains. In 1971 the US Congress passed the Wild Free-Roaming Horses and Burros Act, which provides for the protection of those horses.

After the Wild Horse Highway I came to the “big city” of today’s trip. Cody, Wyo (pop: 10,250) is one of those larger-than-life towns that inevitably become tourist trips. “Buffalo” Bill Cody founded Cody City in 1895. It was intended as a resort community, near the Demaris mineral hot springs. It was also conveniently located near the eastern entrance to the recently-created Yellowstone National Park. However, just about a year after Buffalo Bill founded Cody City, someone named George Beck established a second city just to the west. It’s this second city that kind of swallowed up Cody City and grew up to be today’s Cody. Ever the entrepreneur, Buffalo Bill embraced the new city and opened a hotel (the Irma) in 1902 that still stands today.

Today’s Cody is a tourist town that leans into its history and western lore. There’s a major museum complex called the Buffalo Bill Center of the West. There are numerous businesses that claim to have authentic links to Buffalo Bill. And the 1936 Cody Theater currently hosts a live musical called the “Wild West Spectacular.”

*“Old Trail Town,” which purports to be a semi-authentic reconstruction of the original Cody City. It’s comprised of historic structures from across the region.*

*The Irma–built by Buffalo Bill and named after his daughter.*

*Active 1936 theater, showing live stage productions.*

After getting my BOTD (more on this below), I left Cody and tackled the final segment of US 20. This stretch, which runs 27 miles from Cody westward to Yellowstone, is designated the Buffalo Bill Cody Scenic Byway.

*This Bob’s Big Boy in a field on the side of the Buffalo Bill Scenic Byway is completely unexplained.*

Finally, after about 2,500 miles and a dozen days of driving, I arrived at the end of (original) US 20!

*My Route 20 shirt is courtesy of The Tepee near Cherry Valley, NY.*

That Yellowstone photo comes courtesy of Harry and Xiomata, who were celebrating their 41st anniversary.

With the road trip complete, there are just a few items left to round out this blog post. Here we go:

BRIDGE CORNER

Today I passed what I consider to be a picturesque, historic bridge that deserves mention. The century-old Hayden Arch Bridge crosses Shoshoni creek near just west of Cody. It’s billed as “Wyoming’s only medium span concrete arch vehicular bridge.” Alas, I arrived just a few days too early for a big celebration. According to a recently-posted notice, “The Cody Country Chamber of Commerce invites the public to a special centennial celebration marking 100 years of Hayden’s Arch, one of Wyoming’s most iconic bridges. The commemorative ceremony will take place Saturday, June 21, 2025, at 4:00 PM, at the historic Hayden Arch Bridge.” It’s not to late to plan your trip!

*Wyoming’s iconic Hayden Arch Bridge turns 100!*

BEER OF THE DAY

I wanted to do something special for the last BOTD for this trip, so I bellied up to the bar at the Hotel Irma, which Buffalo Bill himself had built in 1902. It’s named after his youngest daughter.

Sadly, I wasn’t able to secure a seat at the bar–there was considerable disagreement among the barflies as to whether “Jack” was going to return to the seat he had earlier vacated. And the wait staff and bartenders–all of whom seemed to have been holdovers from the days of Buffalo Bill–seemed irreparably confused. I left.

Instead I chose the considerably less historic Millstone Pizza Company and Brewery that sits just across the street from the Irma. On advice of Doogie Howser’s doppelganger who was working behind the bar, I had the Pineapple and Jalapeno Ale.

Now, this was a reasonably well-made beer, with smooth body, good hoppiness, nice color, and a delicate foam head. The only thing this beer didn’t have was the taste of pineapple or jalapeno. Which would seem to be a problem for a beer billed as a pineapple/jalapeno beer. There was no sweetness and no heat whatsoever. When I brought this to Doogie’s attention, he kind of shrugged and said, “yeah, I’ve complained to the brewmaster about that myself.” (And yet he’d recommended it to me?!) He also hinted that the brewmaster used green peppers rather than jalapenos. Zero stars for false advertising. It’s a disappointing end to a good string of BOTDs.

DELETED SCENES

Finally, we end with a handful of photos from all along US 20 that largely speak for themselves. Is this a great country, or what?