Can Harry and Meghan Bring Down Rupert?

Is Crime Essential to the Media Baron's Journalism?

Newsstand, New York City. Marjory Collins/FSA, 1943.

Around the time I got my first job in New York's publishing world, two interesting titans arrived in the industry - Robert Maxwell, a Czech who made his life mainly in England, and Rupert Murdoch, an Australian who eventually became an American citizen. Neither one of them struck me as a particularly good influence. 

Maxwell came to a relatively early end, going over the side of his yacht in 1991, but not before he had looted the pension funds of many of his employees. His empire had been crashing, and after his death it collapsed. 

Maxwell was apparently very fond of his yacht, called the Lady Ghislaine, and quite a few of his employees liked to refer to him as Captain Bob. After he drowned and was recovered from the waters off the Canary Islands, those same people started calling him Captain Bob, bob, bob.

I met one of his sons when I sold him the remains of a magazine that I had to fold during the Reagan recession of the early 1980s. Impeccably groomed.  His daughter Ghislaine has of course gone on to fame in the Jeffrey Epstein case, and currently resides in a federal jail in Brooklyn. 

I actually worked for Murdoch. I never met him, but his office was only a few floors above my cubicle. I was editing a small business magazine, and occasionally chatted with people who worked for the tabloid Star, which had its offices a few floors below ours.

I didn't particularly dislike Murdoch, but I knew a lot of people who did. When he bought the New York Post, an acquaintance who worked there said he initially thought that things couldn't get worse than they had been under Dorothy Schiff; very soon he discovered that he had been wrong. 

But there never seemed to be a chink in Murdoch's armor. He did seem to have a consistent talent for making money, and of course with money comes power. I certainly didn't like what he did with his power - essentially debasing our public discourse with Fox News - but I came to feel that he would never fall.

Now I'm not so sure. I read an interesting article in the Times the other day, It appears that Rupert's English tabloid the Sun is in trouble. The trouble involves the Duke and Duchess of Sussex. It appears that a private investigator who was digging up information on Meghan violated the law in the course of his researches.  

There was a previous scandal over illegal prying, back in 2011. Rupert had to shut down the offending tabloid, the News of the World, and his bid to take over a television service, BSkyB, fizzled. But then it appeared that the ship righted itself and sailed on.

Until now. The Sussexes are very unhappy, and they are suing. Harry hasn't been happy with the British tabloids since his mother, Princess Diana, died, so I think this feud has staying power.

I'm not sure what might happen next. And I don't know if the British have a law comparable to the American RICO statute (Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act). But if the Sun, Murdoch's offending newspaper, has been breaking the law as a basic part of its business plan, I do think things could get very bad for Rupert. I won't shed a tear if they do.

Newsstand, Minneapolis. John Vachon/FSA, 1939.

See also The 800-Pound Gorilla in the Oval Office.

Don't Tell Me That Peace Has Broken Out!

St. Valentine Takes Up Residence on 11th Street

I hadn't visited the two-way bicycle lane on 11th Street since the pandemic started, but a few days ago I decided to anticipate spring and take something of a random walk, guided mainly by a desire to avoid the ruts I have put into certain sidewalks in Center City Philadelphia. 

One thing led to another, and I found myself in South Philly, on 11th Street at Catharine, staring at the empty space you see above. This area, marked with white stripes and a few flex posts, is helping to daylight the intersection - that is, allow enough open space so that everyone entering the intersection can see everyone else who may be doing the same thing. Note the car stopped demurely at the stop bar, set well back from the intersection. This also helps with visibility.

The idea that everyone entering an intersection should be able to see all the potential conflicts at the intersection - cars, pedestrians, bicyclists, stray dogs, errant hamsters - seems like a no-brainer. But for years it was trumped by the heavy demand for on-street parking spots.

And so people parked right up to the crosswalk. And then the next person along would park in the crosswalk.

When the stripes first went in, quite a few people were outraged, and some displayed their anger by parking on the stripes. Here's a shot from 2019. It's from a different location along 11th Street - frankly I'm not quite sure where. But it doesn't matter. The last time I was on 11th Street, before the pandemic, all the striped daylighting areas I looked at looked like this. 

Fast forward to my random walk, and none of the spots I look at have cars in them.

I have no idea how this happened, but it makes me very happy. As I was taking the picture at the top of the story, the emptiness I was looking at was pulling me in a Zen direction.  Maybe the pull was not as strong as a Japanese rock garden in Kyoto; but this is, I am sure, the first time I have ever associated the word Zen and the two words Philadelphia street.

Mother Courage, who spoke the words in the title of this story, had been at war so long (the Thirty Years' War did last thirty years) that she was outraged when peace broke out and disrupted her familiar world of chaotic violence.

Frankly, I don't have that problem.

I've also been chronicling outdoor dining in Philly, and I thought I'd show you the restaurant below, on 11th just south of Fitzwater.

I do think the dining modules, most of which are located in former parking spots, create a nice space for both diners and cyclists, and even the occasional pedestrian like me. The little sign is requesting that bicyclists watch out for pedestrians, or possibly just diners who are standing up. I think it's too small for a bicyclist to read, but it doesn't matter. The whole space is quietly saying slow down and enjoy your passage.

If you look carefully, you'll notice that the plastic igloos are actually standing on stripes. I assume this is why they're transparent, and not opaque like the structure further south.

Finally, here's another picture from the Before Days, showing the new bike lane in action. 

Bertolt Brecht wrote the play Mother Courage in 1939. The Thirty Years' War lasted from 1618 to 1648. The full quotation, from Scene 8, is as follows: "Don't tell me peace has broken out just after I laid in new stock."

See also They Threw Rocks at Mayor Dilworth. Checking in With Outdoor Dining.

Schuylkill Banks Closed at Chestnut

The Repairs Are Necessary; the Signage Sucks.

Barge and utility craft next to the repair site.

The sinkhole on the Schuylkill Banks is getting repaired. That's the good news. The bad news is that it's going to take a couple of months. Well, actually, the really bad news is that the detours are very badly signed.

The worksite.

The signage blocking off the work area is okay. 

A simple message, clearly stated.

But the wayfinding is spotty and at times misleading. Here's a sign on Market telling cyclists to turn down 23rd Street. It's okay, but not all turns are marked. 

Market turning to 23rd.

And then there's this signage at Locust and 25th, which appears to be telling a bicyclist heading the wrong way down Locust Street to turn left and head the wrong way down 25th Street. I think I've figured out what's going on here. This sign belongs over on the Schuylkill Banks, near the exit gates that send you over the train tracks. That way bicyclists heading up from the South Street Bridge would actually have an indication that they should take a detour. Before they get to the fence and the sign at Chestnut Street.

Locust at 25th.

I would say, overall, that the signage is better heading south from Market than it is heading north from Locust. 

As I understand the routes being recommended, cyclists headed southbound, or downriver, from Market should turn on 23rd and head down to Walnut and turn right on Walnut to get to the stairs that lead down to the Schuylkill Banks. The Bicycle Coalition disagrees, recommending that cyclists continue down to Spruce and loop back up 25th to the Locust Street gates. I agree. It's safer.

Heading northbound, I'm pretty sure the official recommendation is to exit at Locust, go over to the 22nd Street bike lane, and head up 22nd to Market. Again, the Bike Coalition differs, recommending that cyclists stay on 22nd to the Race Street entrance. I'm agnostic here.

What I think would help greatly would be some laminated wayfinding maps that allowed people to visualize their odyssey before they ventured off into what, for many of them, will be unfamiliar or even unknown territory. 

And I think we need to look at 23rd Street between Market and Walnut. Everybody is telling bicyclists to use this street. These two blocks are, in my opinion, two of the scariest blocks in Philadelphia. I think we've even been here before. It strikes me that there was briefly a temporary bike lane on 23rd between Market and Chestnut. As I recall, it didn't last long. I think it's time to revisit this issue, and call for a temporary bike lane to carry the detour along 23rd from Market to Walnut. 

And frankly I would keep the bike lane going down 23rd, at least to Spruce and possibly to South Street. The traffic on this street is wild, and would be a lot calmer if there were only one lane for motor-vehicle traffic instead of two. We've already done this on Pine and Spruce, and we know it works.

See also A Reopening.

Checking in With Outdoor Dining

Will People Dine Outdoors Below 40 Degrees?

The answer is yes.

Shortly before the Inauguration I took a walk and had another look at the outdoor dining rooms near Rittenhouse Square and around 13th Street. Actually, I took several walks. Things have definitely evolved.

Tria, above, was firing on all cylinders around sundown on a Saturday. Note that people are using the shelter and also the sidewalk, where there are high-top tables in the open air, back next to the building.

And then we have Rouge, which seems to have transplanted its outdoor space from a ski lodge somewhere. The firepits, the faux sheepskins on the chair backs, the crossed skis on the posts supporting the roof of the tent all contribute to the alpine atmosphere. (Note that the far wall of the tent, nearest the moving cars, has been opened, with sheets of clear plastic gathered up like drapes in a living room.)

Love is also up and running with a white-painted structure that communicates a light, airy feel.

All the above are on 18th Street, near Rittenhouse Square. Let's go over to 13th Street and its environs. The structure below is on Juniper Street (just west of 13th). 

Mercato, on Spruce at Camac (just east of 13th), has gone with plastic igloos. I'm a little surprised we're not seeing more of these.

Finally, people really will eat outdoors, without a roof, in January. This is El Vez on 13th Street.

And Then the Snows Came

My impression is that Philadelphia's outdoor dining rooms can barrel right through the kind of cold winter air we've been seeing in recent years. Snow, on the other hand, does seem to slow things down. This photo is on Sansom by the Oyster House.

See also Philly Plein Air, Winter Shelters in Rittenhouse.