We originally published this article in 2002 in issue #3 of By The Way magazine, and republish it in honor of Mr. Ed who's great, classic roadside attraction burned down yesterday. Ed vows to rebuild, but he has quite a task at hand. His museum held over 6,000 artifacts, some extremely rare. We wish Mr. Ed the best of luck. 

Sometime back in the late '60s, my mother began to collect elephant figurines. She would explain that her Republican political sentiments initially sparked the accumulation, but after a time, the collection grew mainly because others discovered she had one. Once word gets out that you collect something, you make yourself an easier target for gifts. We generally regarded Mom's odd little obsession with good humor – while always keeping an eye out for something to add to the menagerie.

Coincidentally, Mom acquired her first elephant about the same time Mr. Ed received his. While Mom's collection probably fits in a television box, Mr. Ed's has its own building on the Lincoln Highway just west of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. Now numbering well over 6,000 artifacts, Mr. Ed's Elephant Museum has evolved into a classic, off-beat roadside attraction that seems to thrive in the era of the corporate theme park. Indeed, the unexpected sight of Mr. Ed's induces a slam on the brakes for any serious roadside enthusiast passing by. Greeting visitors is Miss Elly Phunt, an eight foot fiberglass mechanical elephant standing proudly in front of the museum. Break the electric eye beam, and Miss Elly talks, blinks, and waves her paddle-sized ears.

I knew I'd enjoy talking to Mr. Ed. How could anyone in the business that also sells old fashioned candies and fresh roasted peanuts not have a cheery disposition? With his white beard, portly stature, and twinkle in his eye, the guy could pass for Kris Kringle, and we'd have another "Miracle on 34th Street."

Tour of the Petrogiannis Philly Diner Empire

Last night, I took a writer for Philadelphia Magazine on a little tour of Michael Petrogiannis' burgeoning Philadelphia diner empire, stopping at the Mayfair, Melrose, and Country Club Diners. What we found frankly surprised and often delighted me. Most of the interior renovations that we found were either applied lightly or appropropriately. At the Country Club, for instance, the extensive interior renovations corrected, in my opinion, a big mistake made by the Perloffs when they ordered it from Fodero back in 1967. Instead of three separate enclosed rooms, the diner now features one large, stylish open area more fitting of the diner experience.

The Highland Park Diner is easy on the eyes, a tidy barrel-roofed gem on South Clinton Street in Rochester, New York with pink neon caressing the clock smack in the center of the building.

The Rochester Wiki web site reports that the diner was manufactured by the Orleans Diner company of Albion, New York in the late 1940's. To my uneducated eyes the style is heavily reminiscent of the Worcester diner, though somewhat wider. The diner has never been moved from its site, though for a period served as an off-track betting center. Across the street is the Cinema Theater, whose pink and aqua color scheme seems to be trying just a little too hard in a neighborhood of mostly muted colors.