This post is about the work of a venerable but new-to-me graphic designer, Seymour Chwast, but before I get to him I have to explain how I got to him. If you have been reading the blog over the past year or so, you might have perceived that I have become mildly obsessed with two images associated with Salem: the official Salem City Seal with its Sumatran trader, now likely on its way out after 180 years or so, and more recently a cartoon cat mascot chosen by the Mayor of Salem and the Salem 400+ Committee to represent our city's "unique identity" for our upcoming Quadricentennial.

I had some obligations here in Salem so could not leave the Witch City for the weekend, but I did spend yesterday driving around a little part of our county stopping in at open houses for the annual Essex Heritage Trails and Sails event series, which features an array of heritage, cultural and nature events over three weekends every September.

I had yet another "symbol trauma" (I have no other way to refer to it) on Friday when people starting sending me images of little anime cats with notes indicating that this was the new official mascot for Salem's 400th commemoration, Salem 400+. Was this a joke? Apparently not. Here's the press release text and the cat (in front of 1910 City Hall just to emphasize his/her official status).

I wrote the chapter on Salem's Colonial Revival movement in our forthcoming book Salem's Centuries, an effort that I think was pretty ballsy given that I am neither an American historican or an art/architectural historian. You can be sure that I had both types of experts read it before submission and it has been peer-reviewed several times before publication! I felt confident because I took a biographical and cultural history approach, utilizing the work and lives of Salem exemplars Frank Cousins, Mary Harrod Northend, George Francis Dow, and Caroline Emmerton.

Last week I was thinking about all the things that annoy or concern me about Salem now, and the list seemed endless, which depressed me, and then I suddenly thought, why don't I focus on the things that I love about Salem so I won't be so depressed? This seemed like a good idea, and an easy realignment. Why did I move to Salem?

The stars seem to have aligned and I am all set for a fall full of reading. Salem's Centuries is in production (and out on January 6), my new saffron project hasn't taken flight yet, and I have a course release for the semester. I've written two books in five years and now is the time to ingest. Escaping into book worlds is another way of avoiding my least favorite season in Salem as well.

Sorry for the longer time between posts; I generally try (and succeed!) to post once a week but I was on vacation up in Maine and forgot my power cord, which might have been a good thing. I had my Fall Reading List all ready to post, but now I think I'll save that for next week and just post my Maine pictures this week.

Last week was a little challenging here in Salem, with news of two local businesses closing: one decades old, the other an extremely popular retail shop which caters to residents rather than tourists. Such businesses seem fewer and fewer present along the streets of Salem, and it's a bit disheartening. The slide towards all-year-long Halloween seems relentless, at least to me, and you can see little black witch hats everywhere you walk even on the hottest days of summer.

I had a more substantive post planned for this week but I took a little detour and so here I am with menus. I started to write about my experience as a tour guide at the Phillips House of Historic New England, as I'm in my second year and I thought it was time for some reflection. But in doing so, I became fixated on a moment during my tour (well during all of my colleagues' tours, I'm sure, as it's definitely a great device) when I show our guests a menu from July 1919 in order to interpret both the dining room and one of the ways in which the household…