Philadelphia 2021 Day 3B

Ye Olde Art Meets Pop Culture
More May 28, 2021
 
We got to the museum ramp about a quarter hour later than if we just stayed on the stupid interstate.  The GPS then attempted to have us park on the back steps of the Philadelphia  Art Museum, but luckily I saw the garage entrance.
 
The garage was separate from the museum, and I suggested we visit the steps while it was sunny.
 
This idea was turned down to maximize time in the building before it closed, assuming they’d let us in at all, especially since we’d read the entrance at the top of the Rocky steps was closed.
 
I’m only pointing out my step suggestion to document one of the few times I had a good suggestion.
 
We had no idea about closing times of anything and decided to start in the gift shop since we saw a sign somewhere that said it closed at 4:45. We thought the museum closed at five or half past.
 
When we came out with our bag of stuff, we learned the whole place, gift shop and all, was open until 8:45 PM on Fridays.
 
Anabelle took point as a huge art museum fan, and someone protecting an ankle.  We started on the second floor with the Modern, Contemporary and Impressionist section.  To get there we took a service elevator. I guess they pressed the massive cars into use for people to allow social distancing. Since the whole place was mostly empty, we got solo rides whenever we used them.
 
Anabelle was thrilled to see her favorite Picasso, “Three Musicians.”  Rosa was thrilled, and bought a print in the store, of a Van Gogh sunflowers painting.  Yes, she does plan to write “For Amy” on the edge of the vase, because we’re all much bigger Doctor Who fans than art fans,
 

Anabelle initially broke down which sections on each floor we needed to see, based on our theoretical limited time. Even with the later closing time, this was the plan, again to protect her ankle and get on the road at a decent hour.
 
Anabelle learned what all of us with a New York museum bias learns when travelling.  Even in major American cities, no museum rivals the New York City ones.  Here, there was one or two paintings for each artist instead of several rooms full.  She was stunned we finished the entire section in what she termed, “A few minutes.” 

Another startling discovery was “Modern Art" has been used as a term for so long, the more recent, and also sillier, stuff is now labeled Contemporary Art.
 
One untitled piece caught my eye. This was because the artist had to have been incredibly lazy to leave it untitled when it was clearly, “Milk Crate Full o’ Boobs.” 

Up on the third floor, after another service elevator trip, we finished the earlier European Art “in a snap.”  

A required trip through the armor room was next.

The Medieval and Asian sections weren’t on the “required” list, but we needed to pass through them to reach the elevator and a couple of side steps allowed viewing the entire collection.  There was a very nice Asian garden at the center of that wing we took in to rest a bit. 

We decided we might as well finish the American section back on the second floor on the way down. While there we spotted a couple of nice Hudson Valley school landscapes. (Thank you professor Abrash.)

The first floor was quick and easy for several reasons:

A) All cafeterias were closed, killing the “eat dinner here” idea.
B) Early American art tends to be mostly ugly portraits.
C) The other Contemporary Art was VERY Contemporary, featuring neon signs and an oddly shaped shag rug with one Mento on it.

 Aside- It is entirely possible that the Mento was not part of the display, but after my “don’t sit on the art” experience at the MET, I’m the last person that should be consulted.
 
We thought about leaving via the Rocky steps, since that entrance was available, making our research continually less useful.  We briefly toyed with the idea of going out there, and Rosa and I going down and back up to prevent Anabelle from having to use them, but no one wanted to do that either. 
 

A helpful Spanish speaking guard explained the best way to get to them from the downstairs exit. We also got to see the giant Diana statue and the Calder mobile…but checking the photo times, that was earlier, when we were in the third floor central part of the museum. I really need to take notes in real time on trips now that my brain is old and squishy.

We took one of the fancy main elevators…
It looked exactly like the service elevator but with mirrors.
 
It didn’t sound like it but the guard directed us to the door we entered from.  To get to the steps we walked around the museum in the inconvenient (and also torrential) rain.  At least we had one umbrella with us.  Anabelle dressed for warm weather based on the day before, meaning she was also freezing, and gave less than a dead sparrow about the steps or climbing them.
 
On the way, we stopped for pictures with the Rocky statue itself. Woo!
 

We did not stop for pictures with the statue commemorating the sculptor lady who now spends her days staring at Rocky’s butt.
 
One group and two other single men came on the “pilgrimage” to run up the steps.  Anabelle went up one single step and posed, because she is, in her own words, “So Cool.”  Then she filmed, along with a running commentary about being cold and wet and not caring about the stupid steps, (she had long since finished enjoying Living the full Valley Forge Experience)  while Rosa and I went up them and came back down. 

 

Filled with movie excitement, and rainwater, we returned to the parking garage.
In a rare moment of good timing, the hotel manager called when we were in the car but before driving to explain the credit vouchers.   This moment of good timing was brought to us by Philadelphia parking signs once again highlighting the slowest and most inconvenient way to pay.
 
We had more snacks and stolen breakfast items to hold us over.  Since it was only a two-hour trip, we decided to have dinner near home in a place we trusted, as opposed to rest stop fast food.  They were napping when we passed the one Roy Rogers anyway.

I learned on a later trip that we made an excellent decision. It would have been faster for me to get a roast beef sandwich by swerving off the highway and running over a cow that it was to get one at that rest stop. 
 
The GPS, still distracted over the whole regatta thing, lost it again as we went over the Ben Franklin Bridge and guided us onto local roads instead of the highway. We were able to get gas before finding our way back to the Turnpike, however.
 
Back in New Jersey, her sanity was restored and she guided us to 1 and 287 because the Turnpike and Parkway get extra stupid in the rain. Visibility was minimal, but the roads were empty. 
 
We made it cautiously to the Hibernia Diner, and ate inside it for the first time in over a year! It was excellent and filling as always. The decaf cappuccino and hot chocolate for Anabelle warmed us. The wraps and sandwiches were tasty. I got a little overexcited trying to recreate the buffalo grilled chicken sandwich I'd have gotten at Chili’s if we went in there, which would have allowed the modification of a fried sandwich. I overdid the change requests and the thing exploded, leading to me eating more of a salad, or to use Food Network terms, “A Deconstructed Sandwich”
 
Aside- After the dance recital the next week which Anabelle aced, ankle injury and all, I tried again. With a wrap. It worked much better.
 
We returned home to wash up and rest for the weekend.
 
  
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