I saw a sanitation truck, and was reminded I'm in one of the great cities--

I'm from Philadelphia, City of Brotherly Love. We are ridiculously diverse, culturally rich, gifted with theater, art, music, and we have a reputation for being especially rowdy sports fans. But I saw a pretty trash truck that reminded me what I really love about my city:



That's one of several sanitation vehicles that have been made into art here in the city. This article misunderstands the point, but shows the pictures--

Philly’s Mural Arts Program partnered up with The Design Center of Philadelphia University to transform 10 city garbage trucks into pieces of movable art. Sadly, the murals do nothing to disguise the trucks awful fucking smell.

Garbage is what it is--but why can't we have trash trucks that are beautiful? They do a necessary job, and that part is beautiful. There are a few million households making trash in this city, and none of it smells nice, not even the garbage of the guy who commented on the "awful fucking smell"--hey, stupid--there are people who work on those trucks who put up with the awful fucking smell of our garbage everyday. But when I saw the artistic truck, I felt a little lifted--this is a Philadelphia thing. I know Japan pretties up their sanitation trucks, too, because I looked into it. But it's useful art. It surprises you with a new possibility. It reminds you there is room for beauty anywhere.

And that's something my city has learned. The mural program is a thing I really think is smart--where there is urban blight and grafitti, why not make art that everyone can respect and really enjoy as part of the community?



The best thing about this is how it tells the stories of our neighborhoods, and how thoughtful the placement of the art often is. We are like a tattooed city. Just like people might have tattoos that cover scars or tell the stories of their lives--we have art that fills the interstices, that describes our people and covers over the fraying nature of all human endeavor--

And then there is the personal art--the art of specific space:



This mosaic form is found here and there and especially in South Philly, not just on South Street. And it, too, has a story. But where you see the mosaics, you know people are representing an ideal--the uniqueness of Philadelphia and its art. And there is pride to be drawn from that--

The ugliness of blight is fixed with native creativity. The creations made reflect our diversity, and remind us of our strengths. They reflect the individuality we have as citizens who are creative and quirky and real--

And all of that makes me like my city a little more. Although there are mysteries regarding us--artistically. We are a great jazz city, but have no jazz radio station. We have a vibrant foodie culture and several microbreweries--but I worry about the availability of righteous beer. We have Monk's. There's Iron Abbey just outside Philly. But more restaurants need to take up the banner of promoting better beer. Grey Lodge does a great job in promoting local beers and beer diversity--more of this, please! (I will vouch for the really awesomeness of their jukebox, etc. This is a bar par excellence).

I have a city where we bother to paint the trash trucks. Where we have an awesome beer culture, where you can eat ridiculously well, for a not ridiculous amount of money. And where we decorate to commemorate. Where "sacred space" (such as corners where people met with accidents or violence) is made creative space (where art performs the function sometimes of explaining, healing, commemorating). And the price of admission is only your desire to look.