Category: Uncategorized

Road Building: The Board Game by Elizabeth A Yazvac

In class, I was prompted to describe an important or meaningful road in my life. I wrote about a literal road important in my childhood (because this made for a more appropriate writing assignment), but what I discussed in my essay was not the first road I thought about.

The first road I thought about is the one that I build in the board game Settlers of Catan.

catan

 

I laughed to myself and shook off the thought. But after class I was still struck by the idea and importance of roads in Settlers of Catan. Naturally, this led me to think about another board game, Carcassonne, and another board game, Ticket to Ride, and, finally, I ended up where all of my thoughts usually end up – thinking about the video game Skyrim.

In Settlers of Catan, players build settlements on terrain hexes that produce resources when players roll the dice. All settlements must be connected by roads, and, thus, road-building is necessary for expansion and, in turn, victory!

Carcassonne is a tile-laying game during which players construct unique layouts of the medieval French town Carcassonne, with monasteries, cities, and farms all connected by road tiles.

carcassonne

In Ticket to Ride, players build railroad segments connecting cities across the United States. I argue that the railroad holds the same importance as roads discussed in class, and brings about the same notions of journey, travel, and freedom.

Finally, in Skyrim, players can travel from hold to hold along roads and pathways. Straying too far from the road increases the likelihood of running into an aggressive bear, thief, or dragon.

skyrim roads

J.B. Jackson’s chapter “Roads Belong in the Landscape” discusses two roles of roads. First, “as promoters of growth and dispersion”, and, second, “as magnets around which new kinds of development can cluster” (Jackson 190). Roads in the above mentioned games fulfill both of these roles, and through these games we can examine the importance of roads in (sometimes imaginary) worlds other than our own.

First, the role of “promoters of growth and dispersion” is the easiest to understand and examine. In both Settlers of Catan and Ticket to Ride, the roads are literally the only way of expanding. Roads must connect settlements, and railways must connect cities, respectively. On the second point of roads as “magnets around which new kinds of development can cluster,” a similar argument can be made, especially for Settlers. Settlements and cities can only be built along your own road segments.

Road building doesn’t immediately strike me as great board game material. Neither does resource production or laying railway tracks, but all of the board games mentioned in this blog post are incredibly fun. And it has a lot to do with the road as a symbol of freedom and expansion. These games specifically deal with road themes that invoke ideas of romantic Americana, even if they may not take place in America.

The Ticket to Ride board is a map of the United States. The board, pieces, and characters that players assume are taken from a generic early 1900-caricature of the US, at the height of railway construction and travel. Nostalgia for the Frontier and the way in which railroads allowed Americans to conquer the Wild West are apparent in the design of the game. The game makes you superficially happy as you cover the country in tiny train pieces, but, on a deeper level, the game satisfies our inner-American dream. (Even though that dream may be representative of a romanticised version of the past. For example, the way modern day imitation found on Route 66 in the form of 50s diners and old gas stations allows people to experience an “authentic” version of the glory days.) This American dream that lives within us all, that hungers to expand and travel and be free, has an outlet when playing Ticket to Ride, making it addicting and enjoyable.

ticket to ride

In Settlers of Catan, one of the gameplay strategies is to expand across as much of the board as possible with your roads. Players are awarded a bonus for having the Longest Road, so its importance to the game is initially very obvious. But much in the same way that Ticket to Ride is a more accessible way to experience westward travel, Catan is more accessible way for the expression of the entrepreneurial spirit that is a hallmark of the American dream. The explosion of road building as a result from automobile production played a large part in shaping what the road as icon represents. And one thing it certainly represents is the ability to travel wherever you want to go, work hard, and be successful. In Catan, players build roads to connect settlements and cities that produce natural resources used to build said roads, settlements, and cities. It is satisfying to lay down your road segments, construct your own settlement out of resources that you earned for yourself, and watch that settlement flourish into a city. As exciting as it is to watch your pretend cities on the island of Catan produce a lot of wheat, it is more exciting for players because they feel a connection between their gameplay and the opportunity that the road allows – the opportunity to rise from nothing into something.

longest road

There is a reason that these games have roads at the center of their gameplay, and that reason is because the road speaks to our underlying desire to expand and be free. Even if those desires happen at subconscious level, the road evokes a sense of nostalgia for a time when it was easier to travel across country and start life anew. Today, most of us can’t do that. But we can play Settlers of Catan, and that seems to do the trick just fine, too.

Images:

http://kelseykjeldsen.com/game-report-settlers-catan/

http://missgeeky.com/2009/03/18/game-review-carcassonne/

http://www.daysofwonder.com/tickettoride/en/usa/

https://tametheboardgame.files.wordpress.com/2014/03/img_0552.jpg

Life is a Highway by Carlee Cantwell

From the earliest stages of childhood, I was exposed to the idea of the road. At just a few months old, I took my very first road trip to the Jersey Shore. Ever since then, every road trip I’ve ever taken has represented a different milestone. Whether it was the first vacation I took without my parents, the first time I drove a car, or my travels across Ireland and Europe, the road has always represented more than just a journey between physical destinations, but more so a journey in my personal growth. A song that immediately jumps into my head when I think about my journeys is “Life is a Highway”. Although originally a Tom Cochrane song, the version I connect most with is the one done by Rascal Flatts for the movie, “Cars”. In particular the lyrics, “Life’s like a road that you travel on…”, and “Life is a highway, I wanna ride it all night long”, speak to the connections I find between the road and its representation of journey and personal growth.

I believe that many people see the road as a representation of a pathway to achieving their goals. They’ll “hit the road” and get out of their town to achieve bigger and better things. In the movie “Cars”, which draws a lot of its imagery from the stereotypical ideas of Route 66, Lightening McQueen, a young race car is traveling across the country to get to California for a big race. However, he runs into the town of Radiator Springs, an old town that lost all its visitors when the new highway was built. From traveling this stretch of road, McQueen learns that life isn’t just about all his shiny trophies, but about enjoying the road you’re on and embracing the journey itself. In the movie, some of the secondary characters like Mater the Tow Truck and Doc Hudson fondly reminisce on the old times in Radiator Springs. While the road holds old memories for them, like many roads do for people today, they also recognize that their memories aren’t how things will be forever. In the end of the movie, the town recieves a revival after McQueen brings his crew through it, providing the typical children’s movie happy ending, just as Route 66 has achieved its own “happy ending” as a tourist attraction. While the people who travel the roads are on physically and personal journeys, the roads themselves take journeys as well. Route 66 for example went from being the route to get you places to being THE place to visit. Old popular roads are replaced with bigger, newer highways. Towns whole landscapes shift because of the use of one road or another. Some people may say a road is just a road, but I think the roads we travel play an integral part in our own stories and experiences. As we travel along the fast-paced highway of life, the exits we choose to get off at dictate our direction, and when old places and memories are replaced it can feel like a part of our journey is gone forever.
Image: Original Cars Movie Poster (2006)

A Yinzer: The Most Unconventional Philadelphia Icon There Ever Was by Elizabeth Yazvac

I wanted to like Rocky. I really tried to get into the film, and to feel inspired as he punched meat and jogged around in gray sweats to instantly recognizable themepittsburghese music. I understand the underdog story, and its appeal (especially in the context of the film’s release coinciding with the country’s bicentennial), but, in the end, Rocky was just… okay.

I went into the movie thinking that I was already at a disadvantage being a yinzer. A yinzer is a stereotypical Pittsburgh native, and I believe that a lot of Rocky’s appeal comes from the classic shots of Philadelphia, and the embodiment of the struggle of “ethnic white” and lower-middle class Philadelphians. I assumed that, by my resident alien status in this city, this was something I was just not going to be able to understand. (Like, for example, the term water ice. If it’s ice, then obviously it is water… )

But after watching the movie and reading the Leab article, especially the sections about the struggle of the ethnic white class, I was struck by the similarities between the quintessential Philadelphian and the yinzer. A yinzer may be hard to describe to someone who hasn’t experienced their, shall we say, charm. I highly recommend watching a few Pittsburgh Dad videos on YouTube to fully immerse yourself in yinzer culture, but, generally speaking, a yinzer is a blue collar worker who speaks with a heavy Pittsburghese accent, bleeds black and gold, loves Donnie Iris (pronounced Dawny Arrris) and puts french fries on everything (see attached image of a “salad” featuring fried buffalo chicken tenders and fries, YUM!, my kind of salad!!). Yinzer takes on an almost pejorative meaning, portraying the idea that these Pittsburgh people lack sophistication, that the off-brand pop they drink and their rundown row homes in the Pittsburgh hills are indicators of their lesser social status. But the rundown row homes are not exclusive to Pittsburgh. In fact, Leab discusses the similarities between many ethnic neighborhoods – “tiny front yard”, “neat but worn furniture”, chintz lamps.

salad

The similarities between a Yinzer and a Philadelphian like Rocky are striking, at least in terms of their lifestyles and economic struggles. No, the comparison doesn’t hold up when the Pens play the Flyers or the Wawas turn into Sheetz on the Turnpike but what’s important are the shared beliefs in making an honest living. The working class spirit is essential to both the yinzer and to Rocky. Both of the groups feel a connection to the American Dream, and both groups were influenced by the bicentennial and the subsequent revival of entrepreneurial spirit and patriotism.

A yinzer is certainly an icon. It has a graphic component (wave a Terrible Towel in the air, drink an Iron City Beer, and put a folding chair with a Pirates “P” emblazoned on it on the side of the road to reserve your tailgate parking spot), which is key to any icon. As Kemp defines an icon, “it has widespread recognizability” and it can move across space and time. A yinzer seems permanently stuck in 1994, clad in a black and gold Starter windbreaker, but that image resonates just as strongly now as it did then. And, in this blog, I have tried to make the argument that a yinzer can also travel through space into Philadelphia. Because what makes a yinzer truly iconic is not a sports team alliances but a spirit that never waivers, even under economic hardship. And this spirit is shared by Rocky, Rocky fans, and the people who live in the City of Brotherly Love.

kroll show

Imagining Rocky as a yinzer rather than an Italian south Philadelphian, and I start to see more of his appeal. An underdog story always resonates with audiences, but an underdog from your hometown who embodies your very personal story is incredibly empowering. And this speaks to the versatility of Rocky, as well as the versatility of the yinzer.

Philadelphia and Material Culture by Ben Barsh

After having our discussion in class about material culture and Barbie’s role in it, I found myself thinking about not so much what Barbie represents (maybe due to my lack of personal connection), but material culture as a whole and how it applies to me personally. A couple of my classmates and myself discussed some of the things we collect when talking about this. I shared that I collect records. While this is true, I failed to fully recognize that I collect something more obvious and apparent.

After our class discussion I happened upon an interview with former tattooer/artist/musician Dan Higgs. In this interview Higgs states “For one of the least material possessions, it seems like tattooing is getting more materialistic.” I thought about my own role in this. I started getting tattooed at the very young age of 14. By 16 I had a handful, and before I graduated high school I was well into the double digits.

Tattoos, and “collecting” them, is something that’s non-material, but in a sense, completely material. You cant hold them, store them, or preserve them. On the contrary, they actually only guaranteed to get worse with time. They also cost money to apply, but have no value in money or actual use, unlike almost any other collection in the world.

Material culture is something that’s driven by self definition and what the things you collect do and say about you. In that sense, tattoos are completely material. They’re something born out of vanity, in its basic form. They mark an experience, or say something about you. Whether it be that you fit in here, don’t fit in there, believe in this, or alteration for the sake of alteration. Unless they are forcibly applied against will, tattoos are something that define those who wear it.

The first time I ever got referred to as a collector of tattoos was by my friend Ronnie Dell’aquilla. After getting tattooed as a young teen for the reasons tattoos would appeal to a young teen (I’m cool, I’m different, I’m tough, Girls will like it, etc…) I started pursuing tattooing with more specific definitions and boundaries. I primarily sought old timers, people who have been tattooing since before it became more mainstream. Especially those from the east coast.

Ronnie is a straight forward old Italian guy from Brooklyn, his words aren’t minced and offending people doesn’t bother him. While he was tattooing me, he took a break to talk to his wife in Pennsylvania. I remember clearly him saying “Yeah hon, I’ll leave Queens in about an hour, I’m tattooing this kid from Philly, nice kid, collector of tattoos” I was confused about what he meant at first. I thought I was just some guy getting a tattoo. I then realized, in a sense, I wasn’t. I was somebody pursuing something specific, pursuing multiple variants of it, and pursuing it with some intention of status. And that’s what drive’s material culture.

Attached image is Ronnie. He usually wears his sunglasses indoors.

In the Shadow of Rocky by Meredith L Pymer

If you are not familiar with the 2006 movie, Invicible, I would start off with its trailer which can be viewed via this link. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BF7EqnYvuGw

While Rocky was debuting on the big screen in November of 1976, Philadelphians were watching the real rag to riches story come true on the Eagles’ football field. Vince Papale, a thirty-year-old teacher at the time, became a wide receiver and member of special teams for the Philadelphia Eagles. Papale was the oldest rookie, excluding kickers, in the history of the NFL to play professionally without having a college football career. In many ways the ordinary Philadelphian boxer being portrayed in theaters, embodied the new rookie of the Eagles, even gaining the nickname ‘Rocky’. Rocky and Papale even shared the same age, both in their 30s, and considered out of their prime for physical competition.

By 2006, Papale’s story was told on the big screen. Invincible, set in 1976, retold Papale’s story and shared many aspects that could also be found in Rocky. For example both stories embody the chaos during the 1970s as well as take place in South Philadelphia (I included an image of a typical Philly doorstep in Invincible and immediately was like “That’s so Rocky”). Rocky portrayed the scandals of Watergate, the War in Vietnam, the Oil Crisis and Affirmative Action in the distance, typical of the historical time period.

However, Invincible takes up issues of unemployment. Papale actually looses his job within the movie, a teacher turned bartender, and even deals with his wife leaving him, disgusted of his professional failures… Sound familiar? While watching TV it is broadcasted that the Eagles will be holding open tryouts. This eventually leads to Papale gaining a spot on the team, hence the rag to riches mentality that reflects the movie Rocky.  The movie even goes to imitate a special moment where Rocky remarks that the Bicentennial poster doesn’t depict the actual shorts he is wearing. Mr. Jergens responds that it doesn’t really matter. Similar to Rocky, Paple remarks that his name is spelled wrong on his Eagles’ locker. The equipment manager tells him, “Nothing personal, but is it really going to matter.”

Personally, I prefer the Papale’s version of the rag to riches commentary, that you too can have the American Dream. However, I would have to argue that Papale himself is not an American icon, which leads me to wonder why isn’t he? I think the icons are strongly embedded into our culture when a sense of myth or anonymity comes into play. Rocky isn’t an actual person, he is fictional, and like Barbie is fluid enough in his identity that Rocky can embody everyone. Unlike Papale who has a face and an actual real life story to tell, Rocky is a figment of our imagination. Even you can run the Art Museum stairs, turn back towards the city and for that moment feel a sense of pride in our accomplishment.

Just like in Rocky where he is portrayed as a bum, and told he could never be a good boxer, Papale reads this note from his former wife before she leaves him.

I mean… this might be stretching it, but those stairs are so familiar… Rocky much?

The Humble Steak Sandwich by Michael Vecchione

The humble cheesesteak. Something as simple as a three ingredient sandwich (that can even be reduced to two ingredients) has been a Philadelphia icon and food staple since its inception. According to Scott Ferguson, writer for the Pennsylvania Center for the Book and author of “Philly’s Flavorsome Fight,” the cheesesteak we know today was the creation of Italian immigrant Harry Olivieri. Ferguson states that in 1930 Olivieri, a hotdog vendor in South Philadelphia, “went to a local grocery market to purchase some beef…sliced up the beef, grilled it with some onions, and placed it on a roll” (Ferguson 1). The story continues claiming that before Olivieri could try his new creation a passing taxicab driver asked to purchase it. Olivieri agreed to the sale. As an extremely satisfied customer, the cab driver advertised how delicious the steak sandwich was. Word of the sliced-beef wonder quickly spread throughout the city of Philadelphia. A customer base was created. Demand that a steak sandwich become part of Olivier’s regular menu was so high that, “In 1940, the Olivieri brothers opened up Pat’s King of Steaks in South Philadelphia” (Ferguson 1). Since its 1940’s opening, the establishment has served countless Philadelphians and numerous tourists visiting from around the country and the world.

The cheesesteak is undoubtedly a Philadelphia icon. A search on VisitPhilly.com for Philadelphia restaurants produces a list of food categories with one dedicated exclusively to, and adequately named, “Authentic Philly Cheesesteaks.” This category boasts a list of over twenty cheesesteak venders in the Philadelphia region. Also, visitors of the website are provided with a definition of a cheesesteak, a protocol on how to properly order a cheesesteak and the history of the iconic sandwich. Since its inception in 1930, the steak sandwich has evolved significantly, Ferguson claims that cheese was not added to the sandwich until twelve years after Olivier sold the first. Along with cheese, the sandwich can be customized with a variety of other toppings to suit the customer. Popular topping possibilities include mushrooms, onions or peppers. Competition to be dubbed the most desired cheesesteak in the city is high, with a winning restaurant ranked each year by Philadelphia magazine, the region’s leading magazine for area events and business reviews. A day touring Philadelphia, and the attempt to immerse oneself fully in Philadelphia’s culture, would not be complete without a taste of an authentic Philly cheesesteak. It is this attribute that places the cheesesteak among other Philadelphia icons including Betsy Ross, the Liberty Bell and Rocky Balboa. Unlike the ongoing debate on who makes the best cheesesteak in the city, there is no debating the significance of the cheesesteak in Philadelphia culture and its iconic status.

Ferguson, Scott. “Philly’s Flavorsome Fight.” Pennsylvania Center for the Book, Summer 2008. http://pabook.libraries.psu.edu/palitmap/Cheesesteaks.html.

The irony of the film “Rocky” coming from a city of Quaker by Janelle Janci

Rocky is arguably one of the most iconic sports movies of all time. Rocky, played by Sylvester Stallone, is a fighter. He’s gruff and tough, hulkish and able to take a punch as well as dole one out. One of the main points that the movie hinges itself on is Rocky proving his worth through his masculinity by fighting.

However, it’s incredibly ironic that this violent (albeit iconic) film is born from a city of Quakers, a group of people known for their pacifist beliefs.

When tourists are running up and down the art museum steps and posing with flexed arms and a dopey grin, they could probably see Billy Penn perched atop City Hall if they squint enough. While we’ll never quite know how Penn would feel watching people flock to his city to perpetuate the image of a violent fighter, it’s a humorous juxtaposition nonetheless.

For those of us non-Quakers, most of our introductions to the image of a Quaker likely came from a cylindrical container of oatmeal. (While it may be a stretch to call the oatmeal logo itself a Philadelphia icon, the image of a Quaker man no doubt has Philadelphia ties, as I’ll explain.) The Quaker man was actuallythe first registered trademark for a breakfast cereal, secured in 1877. However, the Quaker oats company didn’t have a religious affiliation to Quakers. Rather, the image of a Quaker was chosen to represent “good quality and honest value,” according to the official history on Quaker Oatmeal’s website.

(Side note: If you’ve bought oatmeal recently and noticed the Quaker man looked a little different, it’s because designers made him lose weight in an updated version of the logo.)

Historically, the Quakers are a form of Christianity that formed in the mid-1600s. The religion itself is called the Religious Society of Friends, and “friend” and “Quaker” are synonymous to people within the religion’s community. (Source) Philadelphia is a huge piece of Quaker’s history, with William Penn himself identifying as one. On quakerinfo.org, there’s an entire page dedicated to information on historical sites for Quakers in Philadelphia alone. While Penn didn’t settle in Philadelphia immediately, Philadelphia became a very important location for the Quakers – it’s the home of the oldest and largest yearly meeting of The Society of Friends. And hey, since sports are the one true way Philadelphia shows affection, a hockey team, a football team and a baseball team were even named “Philadelphia Quakers.”

According to the BBC’s historical page on the Quaker religion, promoting pacifism and non-violence are very important to Quakers – making the fact that “Rocky,” a film about a man who makes his livelihood on very non-pacifist activities, is a Philadelphia movie absolutely ironic.

Wawa and the Making of Icons by Ali McCarron

Convenience stores are not designed to spark fierce loyalty in their patrons. They are supposed to be interchangeable; customers pulling off of the road and stopping at the first bright lights they see for some cheap coffee and snacks or to fill up their tank. In Philadelphia, this is not the case. Many Philadelphians live and die by Wawa.

To those from outside the area, or even (ugh) Sheetz lovers, this fanaticism is seen as bizarre. In parts of the Northeast, Wawas are informal boundaries between neighborhoods. People make countdowns to the annual Hoagiefest event and buy commemorative tee shirts. Several of my friends’ senior year summer shore houses in Wildwood, New Jersey had giant Wawa banners hanging, spanning two walls. When I came home from my semester abroad, my first meal, driving home from the airport at midnight, was a Wawa hoagie.

The undeniably strange name may throw off non-locals. Wawa is named after the Wawa Dairy Farm from which it was created in the town of Wawa, Pennsylvania. The town was named after the Ojibwe word for the Canada Goose, which has been featured on the logo of the store since its inception. Wawas are found throughout the East Coast, mainly focused in Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and Delaware, with stores reaching as far as Florida.

Most Philadelphians are, admittedly, obsessed with Wawa. Yes, it is super convenient – free MAC machines, fast ordering of food on touch-screen systems, actually good, non-suspect, convenience store deli counter food, and basically any Philadelphia-based junk food you could ever want (except maybe water ice) in one place – but I’m not convinced that convenience, or even deliciousness is the reason for Wawa’s iconic status in Philadelphia.

It seems to me, the same way Philadelphians gravitate toward Rocky as a unifying force, his spirit being something distinctly “Philadelphian” as well as American, is very similar to the way Philadelphians react to Wawa. Wawa is something that makes the area unique; our love for Wawa has more to do with that and the sentimentality of being able to walk into any Wawa or see the yellow lights and know that you are somewhere familiar, than the sum of all its awesome, convenient parts.

Wawa’s are found throughout the city, but it is certainly worth noting that the establishment quickly moves out of an area that they view as on the decline, which usually means in minority areas. For example, the Wawa I frequented in Wissinoming on Harbison Avenue changed over several years ago to a Quick Stop location, which coincided with the changing demographics of the area. The immediate area surrounding Temple has a great number of convenience stores, but no Wawas in sight. According to Wawa.com, the closest Wawa to Temple University is in Fairmount, which, while still North Philadelphia, has a vastly different population than other areas of North Philadelphia.

While I am sure the decision on where to build or maintain Wawas is certainly an economic decision that factors in crime rates, which could eat into the profit margins as well as detract from the safe, family-friendly atmosphere that the corporation has attempted to maintain, it is certainly interesting to look at. This information illustrates the question of who exactly makes an icon? Those within minority, lower-income, “dangerous,” neighborhoods do not have a Wawa to obsess over and elevate to iconic levels. Defining and shaping an icon requires both power and opportunity, and the placement of Wawa locations helps to elucidate that point.