The Last Supper: No eats or drinks past midnite - Surprise after-dinner company

Who's this? Oh, it's my daughter Sarah and her husband Ethan.

At 6 pm Sarah and Ethan pulled up in a darling beige Mini-Cooper which traveled from Brooklyn thru Staten Island (I think it's the Verazano Bridge)right here to Cowbell Lane in Willow Grove.

Their friend Lisa Koentjen was driving. I typed up her last name to prove to myself that I could spell it. German origin. She's from Chicago but lives in Bklyn and practices psychology in the city where she also teaches.

I imagined having her as a therapist. She's quiet and friendly and a great listener.

Lisa Koentjen

Mom stopped over today. She's not actually sleeping. She had hemmed a couple of garments for me to take to the arspital. Reminds me of one of my fave gospel songs If I could just touch the hem of His garment, sung by Sam Cooke.



Silly me forgot to take pix of all the great food we ate tonite. On my way home from Doylestown Hosp yesterday I got behind this huge Asplundh Tree Trimming truck. I caught myself staring at, thinking to myself, This is a well-made piece of equipment. Very substantial.

I love when people stop by spontaneously just like in the olden days. In fact my front door is open right now should anyone wish to keep me company while I do one last blog post.

Look who stopped by! My sister Donna from Hatboro, PA. What can I do to help you, she asked.

Well, one of the worst things is packing. So she helped me pack. I referred to my index card called NYC, which you can figure out what that means. I first starting making packing lists when my ex and I went camping w/ baby Sarah. Now I'm gonna camp out at Einstein Hospital.

Oh-oh, I'm getting hungry again. It's 10:49. Only an hour to go before I can't eat or drink.

Dinner was spaghetti w/ fresh asparagus, mushrooms, carrots, and red pepper drizzled w/ olive oil.

Steamed kale.

Salmon w/ a pesto sauce.

Sarah made the latter two dishes. I skipped the salmon cuz it makes me thirsty.

I was anxious to hear how The Bad Plus's performance of Rite of Spring went. They were commissioned last year to write it for Duke Univ.

It's one of my alltime fave pieces. I could never reconcile the way the composer Igor Stravinsky looked w/ the raw sexual power of the music. Esp. the accompanying dancing. Remind me to ask Ethan when I wake up from the Long Sleep to tell me about music and sexuality.

I found myself at Weinrich Bakery again today and asked for something not terribly sweet. I was presented with French Twists. Sticky and delicious and, not terribly sweet. Here's a photo of 'down to the very last bite.'



While getting our dinner ready, handsome neighbor Patrick stopped by to capture this Night Before Dawn.

He was a professional wedding photographer when his kids were very young but now he wants to spend more time w/ the little guys, Pat, 7, and Ian, 5. In fact, I used a couple of his photos in my Compass mag. He shot one of his wife Sue. I didn't recognize her and said, Who is this beautiful waitress?

One day Patrick asked me to drive him to a wedding since his car wouldn't start. It was a hot summer afternoon and I was wearing my short shorts and tank top.

When I got to the church I went inside w/ him and everyone but me was in their wedding finery. Nonetheless I managed to get into these great conversations w/ the guests. Then the bagpipers arrived and I stuck around so I could hear the haunting sound of pipes.

And I didn't need to spend 50 bucks to buy a gift.

Here's my b'ful full-kidneyed daughter.

Au revoir Odysseus, au revoir! I told Sarah she was the most b'ful baby. (So was her brother Dan.) In the two-three days we were at the hospital, her face changed so she looked at times like her own self, her Grandma Margie, and her Grandma Bernice. The genes were stretching out and expressing themselves.

Here's Scotty, who enjoyed his meal, esp. the salmon. I sent him outside with the scraps to feed the compost heap. The deer aren't even afraid of us.

Bill Adams stopped by from next door. We talked about a mutual friend Jeff Bigelow. To this day, I said to Bill, whenever I hear the Beach Boys on the radio, which is sadly too rare, I think of Jeff, who turned me on to the greatness of the Boys. I also read the autobio of Brian Wilson which was excellent, esp. how he tried to kick drugs.

Bill works for Waste Mgmt and has an office upstairs in his 'attic.' When I need something faxed, which is infrequent, I send Bill at email: May I come over to fax something?

One time he wrote back, 'I'm in Las Vegas.'

Okay, 40 minutes to go before no eating and drinking.

I passed out copies of Icing on the Cake, the poetry review our Coffeeshop Writers Group just had printed. No need to tell you who organized the whole thing or who got it published for free.

Got a surprise phone call today from Jena Johnson in Portland OR six months after I signed up w/ her organization Compassion and Choices, dedicated to helping terminally ill patients have a good death and also engage, if they wish, in physician-assisted dying.

In my Patch.com article, I cited C and C as being part of my helping team, so while we were talking I forwarded the article to her. Wonderful lady.

In our country, just about every mission or problem a person has is served by a group. And if they're ain't none, well, it's your responsibility to step up to the plate and start it, n'est-ce pas?

Frenzy of "Get it Done before April One" - Kidney story published

See Part I of my Kidney story published today on Patch.com.

- Ate a huge breakfast cuz I needed strength

- Drove to the bank to deposit last nite's New Directions door receipts.

- Had an hour-long appt with my new physical therapist Amy for my newly reoccurred sciatica

- Drove to Doylestown Hospital for another steroid injection for sciatica. The pain has slightly abated. Dr Dale Wilson and Nurse Pam were as wonderful as could be. I thought to myself, Failing America has great healthcare services. Sometimes. This happened to be great. They both either hugged me or held my hand and said they'd be thinking about me on April 1.

- For a patch.com story I'm working on, drove past the Willow Grove Naval Air Base, stopped by the guard house and asked if I could take a photo of the place. The security guard said, Not Allowed. Must be invited to take a picture. She was really worried I was gonna disobey. I told her I never mess with the law. She was very nice. There was a gala today cuz the Base is partially closing down.

- Got my car inspected

- While waiting an hour for the car, I left the Firestone station and sat next door in the beauty salon to wait. Firestone has one of those obnoxious TV sets that you're forced to listen to. No way I could concentrate on the double-issue of the December New Yorker, with the address label removed, I pilfered from Doylestown Hospital.

They were very nice at the hair salon. I laughed aloud while reading the Shouts and Murmurs column by Ian Frazier titled "A Cursing Mommy Serenity Prayer."

I'd love to quote it for you but it's too fucking long.

And besides I'm eating whole almonds now, popping em into my mouth, and gotta concentrate on not breaking a tooth....or having it go down the wrong pipe and dying before I die on the operating table. Just fucking kidding, guys!

- Came home from Car Inspected and devoured the last of Fontaine's delicious chicken left over from the party while returning five or six phone calls.

- Checked emails and saw my Kidney story had been published on Patch, necessitating my sending the link to everyone I'd quoted. It is GREAT publicity for organ donation. We want YOU! Your soul will be released and will be gently floating up to Heaven like Casper the Friendly Ghost.

- Went next door and napped with Scott at 6:10 pm. Told him to wake me at 6:50. When he did, I said I can't believe I slept so long. Is the surgery over? I was kidding, of course, and walked next door just in time for my 7 pm therapy group. One person was early and was waiting in her car.

- Took out the garbaggio

- Got a pitcher of cold water and plastic cups ready for the group. I always serve cold water. I drank a cup too cuz Fontaine's chicken made me thirsty. Tomro, of course, is No Thirsty Day since I can't drink after midnite tomro nite. Was told which of my shitload of pills I should take. Toprol, Norvasc, Synthroid (lithium also knocked out my thyroid function)

BTW, this is how they discover new drugs. Hey, you don't want your thyroid function anymore? Here, I'll give you lithium for slow thyroid destruction.

- I still have two important things to do. I always send an email to my group telling what we accomplished and listing goals for next time. Can't claim it as an original idea tho I don't know of anyone who does it. Read about it in a book by the father of group therapy - Irv Yalom - who summarized sessions in group notes he mailed out to the troops.

I met Yalom once. My Hahnemann teachers hired him to come to town and talk in a huge downtown hotel with many escalators. Me and Bill Corr went. Is that his name? We were pals. Yalom walked in by himself, little Freud-like beard, and sat on a bench.

Bill and I saw him bend over and tie his shoe.

Bill told me to go over and talk to him.

What for? I said to Bill. What am I gonna say?

Oh, you'll think of something, he said.

His talk was unremarkable. Doesn't matter. It's the idea of BEING IN THE PRESENCE OF GREATNESS.

It makes you aspire to do great things.

Kidney Talk: Pre-surgery appt at Einstein - the Bovie 'knife'

Ada drove Sarah and me to our last appt at Einstein before our surgery on Friday. Purpose was to Register for surgery. Lots of paperwork and blood testing involved.

Neither Sarah nor I have ever had surgery. The thot of being cut open is mildly horrific, one step below the Aztec human sacrifices.

Well-oiled machine is a good way to describe the efficiency of our 4.5 hour visit at the hospital. We'd forgotten to bring food tho and Sarah and I were absolutely starving.

I ate a huge breakfast as always...two eggs, homemade toast, beloved grapefruit that I'm eating every day since when I'm on the immunosuppressants it's No grapefruit no more.

A symptom of kidney diz which I don't have is loss of appetite. And inability to enjoy the taste of food.

Sarah and I were each taken into separate rooms. She has her own transplant team w/her own nurse. She saw a different surgeon.



I got reacquainted w/ Dr Stalin Campos, an exceedingly nice guy, orig. from El Salvador. His oldest daughter,22, is in med school in Tampa.

His youngest, Johanna, is 5 and goes to school at Ancilla Assumpta in Wyncote. B/c he's not home a lot, Campos said he and his wife want her to learn values and ethics.

He met his second wife when he worked at Thomas Jefferson. She's an ICU nurse there.

Campos trained at the Thomas E Starzl Transplantion Center at Univ of Pittsburgh. I've wrin extensively about Starzl within these pages.

Campos is a very high-energy dude. He struck the above pose as a way to relax, zen-buddhist style.

He's a reader and showed me on the computer a couple of books he's recently read, one The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho, the other a redemption story by a former Latino gang member.

Campos encouraged me to ask him questions.

What will you use to cut me open, I asked.

On the computer he showed me a pic of a scalpel. Very sharp.

Then he showed me the Bovie electrosurgical tool, named after its discoverer. It's a small machine which cuts and cauterizes (stops bleeding) as it moves along.

The first use of an electrosurgical generator in an operating room occurred on October 1, 1926, at Peter Bent Brigham Hospital in Boston, Massachusetts. A few days earlier (September 28, 1926) Dr. Cushing had been unsuccessful in removing a mass from a patient's head due to its highly vascular nature. In Dr. Cushing's note from October 1st, "...with Dr. Bovie's help I proceeded to take off most satisfactorily the remaining portion of tumor with practically none of the bleeding which was occasioned in the preceding operation."

- Bovie Medical

During my interview w/ Campos, young Roberto, orig. from Mexico, sat in w/us. He's a med student at Penn and also wishes to be a transplant surgeon.

Ready for the rigorous life?

Yes, smiled this tall good-lookin young man. "My father is a transplant surgeon," he said.

His dad works at the Starzl Center.

And, lo, Campos himself originally trained w/ Starzl.

Ah, the rarified world of transplant surgery. (Note to myself: great word rarified, Ruthie! I've never used it before. While I have no idea what it means, I'm sure it's correct.)

Campos wanted to be a t'plant surgeon, he said, b/c of the close ties he forms with patients. Plus he follows them thruout the years.

On Thursday I'll receive a call from the hospital telling me what time to check in for surgery the following day. I can't eat or drink after midnite. Since I drink huge quantities of water, I've gotta eat non-thirsty meals on Thursday.



When I went downstairs today I appreciated my pain-free state as the light of morning flowed through my many windows.

Pic of Sarah's kidney that Campos got up on the screen. He showed me the artery they cut and how the left kidney has a longer one than the right, and that's why they use the left one.

The countdown begins to D-Day, now called K-Day.

Pre-surgery party brings surprise guests

No one likes surprises more than I do. Many guests didn't know I'm the "bubby" of little Grace.

I wasn't really planning on taking pix but when Peggie arrived I spontaneously pulled out my camera to photograph this honest-to-goodness fashion plate.

Peggie came to color my hair. She chose a L'Oreal shade b/c neither of us could locate my regular Clairol 112A. When the dye job was finished my hair looked a shocking bright orange. I was mortified. After a while the color calmed down. Peggie said the air had oxidized it.

My 88-yr-old mom prepared these carrot cupcakes w/cream cheese frosting. I settled on her brownies, as well as Mark's chocolate pudding pie and Clare's vanilla trifle with fruit. On Monday I'll have Joann's chocolate cake for breakfast. What a reason to get outa bed in the morning.

Claudia would sing for us later on. At parties I like everyone to utilize their talents or tell a good tale.

I asked Clare, the trifle maker, to tell the story of buying her new car, a Ford.

My sister Donna told about buying her new HP laptop.

Claudia's husband, Barry, is an English teacher and a master gardener.

Claudia, an unabashed francophile who studied at McGill U in Quebec, has lived a truly rich and exciting life. One of her most interesting stories is when she and Barry moved out of their Elkins Park house where they'd raised their two boys and into a smaller but equally lovely house in Oreland/Glenside.

Claudia simply could not get used to the new house and wanted to move back to the old house.

I think she's finally come to enjoy her new house.

Who knows? Maybe it's in a low-electrolyte zone or high-thermal-conduction area. I'm just making this up. But maybe there truly was something defective about the plain on which she now lives. Maybe her energy has subsequently transformed the place satisfactorily. We know so little about these eternal verities.

The pie brokers: Mike brought a delicious tomato pie and Mark brought a pudding pie. I am a pudding lover from way back.

Here's sweetie-pie Fontaine who made a huge batch of fried chicken and wings w/ salsa. She's on my Kidney Helper List of people who will help out when I'm re-cooping from surgery. What a frightful thought! How can this be happening to me? Oh, I forgot. I've made peace with it.

Judy is a librarian at the Frank Lloyd Wright synagogue Beth Shalom. They're cleaning out the library, much to the sadness of the older congregants, and donating the books to other places. Noam, who is always tired, helped me get rid of most of the books in my house. People can't bear to give up their beloved books and must see them safely donated somewhere else. Had Noam dropped off my books in the Dumpster, I wouldn't have cared, just so they were outa my house and I was oblivious to the dumping.

We had two food tables, one in the dining room on the desk-turned-table and one on the kitchen table.

Grace has a keen interest in studying people's faces. She takes long fearless looks at people. Fascinating!

I wore my 'popcorn' shirt for the party. I made absolutely nothing, except a pitcher of ice-cold water and a thermos of hot water for tea.

Ellen bought a delicious Indian dish of basmati rice and chicken w/ golden raisins.

Laura brought fresh fruit. Phil brought huge mouth-puckeringly delicious strawberries.

We had a good-size crowd.

Boyfriend Scott came over after getting only 90 minutes of sleep, he's always sleep-deprived. Joann said, Oh, your boyfriend is a younger man!

I'm so used to Scott that I forgot he's 13 yrs younger. He's very politically astute and got riled up when talking about politix in WI. Well, said Barry, that's what you get when the Democrats fail to vote.

After the party, I came back to Scott's for the evening. Sarah and my sister Donna stopped over and the four of us were in Scott's bedroom. Me and Scotty were under the covers, having woken up from our naps.

Donna said it felt weird walking into a group of strangers. She looked great but I'd put my camera away.

I told them about the responsibility of being the leader of New Directions. I have no one to talk to about this. When you're under the covers, it makes for a more intimate discussion, as Freud well knew.

I really dislike talking about myself, I said to Sarah and Donna, but I had to prepare my members well in advance of my upcoming kidney surgery. I kept quiet about it as long as I could and then I began spilling the beans, first slowly so that not everyone knew, and then gradually everyone became aware.

Believe it or not, I do not like attention. I like to stay in the background. Not that I don't have an ego but I prefer the soto voce approach.

I do however love talking about 'process,' so it was a great treat talking about the group to Sarah and Donna who understood me.

Sarah said her hero in our group is "Laura," who shared her story in the most recent Compass. Laura has schizoaffective d/o as do several other people in the group. She has very high standards for herself and is a high wage-earner despite her illness.

One of the great surprises was to see my friend Rob. Sarah and I were talking about how much we love Rob. He has an ineffable quality that makes people feel comfortable around him. When I sat next to him on the couch I automatically put my arm around him.

This is what life is about. Good friends.

Piano stairs: an idea video - Madmen - Fitzpatrick / Poem: Into the Cold

So, I'm minding my own business, typing up my notes for my next Patch.com article and I click on a website for an ad agency Doyle Dane and Bernbach. One thing leads to another and I get to the above irresistible clip.

Lunched w/ my new boss Gerry Dungan who took two of his writers out to Pasta Fazool in the Pepperidge Farm Shopping Center in Willow Grove.

Not only am I stuffed with delicious cheese ravioli but I don't think I will need to eat for another week.

For me, cheese ravioli smothered in a delicious tomato sauce, is a real treat. My kidney-healthy diet has me eating: no cheese and no tomato sauce.

The other writer there was food columnist and mom, Heather Greenleaf. She comes from a prominent local family. Her father/law is State Senator Stewart Greenleaf and her husband, another Stewart Greenleaf, is running for controller of Montgomery County.

These are wonderful people, and I think they're Republicans!

Heather has two kids: another Stewart who is 4 and little Alice who is 1. I forgot to tell her I love the name Alice. I mean, how much can you compliment someone after first meeting them?

Our boss Gerry asked us to lunch to discuss a new Mommy's column our paper Patch.com will debut. Because of my age (I'm 65) I didn't think I'd have much to say about today's moms. Amazingly, though, I was able to contribute to the conversation, remembering those happiest days of my life, when I was the mother of two young children. And happily divorced from my ex.

Oh, what a good intro to printing a poem about Sarah. I may've printed it before but I trimmed it a little.

Yesterday was one of the busiest days in my life. Or do I say that every day. Had to get the manuscript of our first poetry review Icing on the Cake to the graphic designer, Terry Spross.

Had to coax all the people from our Coffeeshop Writers Group to get me their work on time. Plus I kept losing their stuff and would write an email, "Pls resend your poems. i lost em. thx."

Inexplicable.

But I got everything in and then took a huge nap - man, was I exhausted - before my living room therapy group from 7 to 9 pm.

My busy day began w/ my first appt w/ physical therapist extraordinaire Margaret Fitzpatrick. She has her own practice with staff at Regency Towers. I'd taken mom there 3 years ago when she had problems w/ dizziness and Margaret gave her a series of exercises which corrected the problem.

We never forget good people, so when my new bone doc David Mancini said to get physical therapy for my bad neck I chose her. Neckercises is what I do now.

I am probly the least-conscious germ person you've ever met. When I take my antirejection pills starting April 1 I've gotta learn to keep clean hands. When my friend Stephen Weinstein took me out for a pre-surgery dinner, he gave me these hand sanitizers he sells to supermarkets and other places.

Will I soon rival Jack Nicholson when he played that germ-o-phobe?

The worst thing, tho, is I can't garden for six months b/c of microbes in the soil. Not even with gloves, for the first six months. Dyou think I will adhere to that?

Oh, I wanna tell you what Surgeon Zaki and I talked about in our intimate informational session two weeks before surgery.

I said to him When I get Sarah's kidney I'll have to be on my best behavior for the rest of my life. Options open to other people will not prevail for me. For example, I said, What if I want to kill myself? I can't do that b/c I owe it to Sarah for giving me her kidney.

Of course you can kill yourself, said Zaki. You and Sarah are two different people, each with your own lives. Do what you want.

Actually, Sarah and I had discussed this and she also said it was fine.

I absolutely believe that suicide is fine for many conditions....except a suicidal depression, which me and about 500 other people I know, have experienced.

When I interviewed Alan for my upcoming article on the Art Collection at the Upper Moreland Library, we talked of many things. He was art director for SmithKline Beckman before it became GlaxoSmithKline. I asked him if he watched Mad Men. He said that those folks represented the old way of doing advertising - back in the 1950s when business was done on the golf course, with wining and dining and providing women for the clients.

A new wave of advertisers came in during the 50s and 60s who were accomplished graduates from art schools. Alan himself was one of these people.

Doyle Dane and Bernbach, ad agency, revolutionized the advertising biz, he said. They cared about creative talent rather than playing golf and schmoozing and drinking.

Alan said that his work as an art director was the closest thing to being a movie director. "We were like business people in art school," he said. "We met with artists, writers, doctors, business people - a great mix."

When he and his wife moved into Willow Grove in the 1950s a different sort of people lived here. People who appreciated the finer things of life, namely art. I remember Dr Millie Wintz said the same thing to me about the newer Willow Grove. There's no culture here, she said.

As I said at the Mommy's meeting this afternoon, we imbue our children with our values. That's the most important thing we do. When I lived in the apartments, I always had artwork on the walls and jazz and classical on the radio and a handsome man on my arm.

INTO THE COLD

It happened so fast
This grown woman thing
You came to town and threw me a party
With birthday cake and red roses you put by the radio
I prevailed upon you to stay an extra day
You are the one
I long for
You became the writer I always wanted to be
Married a man who took you from our quiet street
Where green lawns and new cars are the measure
Of success
To a world rich with meaning
That day in Battery Park we sat listening to him play
While the dancers rumbled about onstage
There’s Julie and Guillermo you pointed out beneath
The darkening sky
The grass was our quilt and the
Hudson rippled in the distance
And now at party’s end I must see you off
The night is cold and dark
Wind howling round my little yellow house
That refuses to bend or yield to the mighty assaults
But stands: bright lights blaring as I walk you to the
Back porch
You wear a little tapered jacket and hat I want to call
A beanie from your Brownie days when you sold cookies
Small unrecognized prodigy that you were
We step onto the back porch
Me in my neck brace and limp
Nothing but a wounded fluttering bird
You ready to take on the world
As the wind soars around the back porch and
The door flaps on itself
Your smile as great as the wind and the cold night
Gone down the
path where the kids come in from school
the door bangs shut
I stand by the fire to warm myself
While your thoughts were on getting home to
The world you left behind.

Kremp Florist: One of top 10 florists in US right here on Davisville Road, Willow Grove PA

Drew Kremp took me around the shop which is amazingly large. You can read the story here, which I wrote for Patch.com.

The story I wrote is the first of a series of businesses in Upper Moreland/Willow Grove.

The store is dazzlingly beautiful and I took about 25 pix there, including several of its classy-looking delivery vehicles.

Here are my favorites:

Drew Kremp, vice prez, who's in charge of the showroom. When visitors enter thru the double-doors, chimes announce your arrival.

Glassed-in chocolates are temptingly close to customers at the check-out counter. Make mine an all-chocolate truffle. And for dessert I'll have one of their chocolate-covered pretzels.

Brenda Wilder works on flowers for a father-daughter dance.

Would you believe this bridal bouquet costs several hundred dollars?

No expense is spared when it comes to bridal events.

All orders arrive at this work station and are then sent to the proper department, such as "funerals" or "weddings" for the floral arrangers to make up the arrangements.

Charles Kremp III has written about the importance of flowers at a funeral on the Kremp website.


Floral arrangements are preserved for several days in this walk-in refrigerator. "Floralife" is added to the water of all flowers which further preserves them.

Floral designer Eddie Washington of Willow Grove prepares "sympathy arrangements" for funerals. He was taken under the wing of the Kremp grandfather, he said, who showed him the correct way to arrange flowers.

Another walk-in refrigerator stores fresh fruit to be made into fruit baskets. Fruit and flowers don't mix, said Drew. Ethylene gas spoils the flowers.

The Kremp building is huge. Upstairs are a bevy of cubbyholes where sales people take orders from all over the world. People find Kremp on the Internet, where they come up sixth in a Google search, said Drew. Here's Walter Ulmer who has just helped a woman from Douglas, AK, order flowers for a funeral in Redmond, WA.

Here's Laura Kremp, Drew's wife, in her upstairs office. Kremp is a total family affair.

Mike Dever is the controller. Drew emphasized that Kremp is a business first, and then a florist.

Drew in the conference room, which doubles as the wedding showroom. The Kremp family originally came from Germany.

Kremp's honors history. Here's a photo of Kremp Florist when they were across the street where Mandarin Garden now is.

At one time, Kremp's owned 5 stand-alone floral shops all over the Philadelphia area. When they bought Pennock's downtown, this receipt - dated 1877 - was on the wall. Now it's on the wall of Kremp's.

Here's the splashing fish pond at Kremp's with an assortment of koi, goldfish and turtles. If you go up the ramp, you can say hello to the two parrots - an African Grey parrot and an Amazon.

Wine nook in the rear of the store. Wine is from Sand Castle Winery in Erwinna, PA.

Orchids and other gifts. They usually bloom once every year, said Drew.

I've always been struck by the beautiful Kremp logo. They went down to Washington, DC, and worked w/ PR/advertising firm Ogilvy & Mather to create their very distinctive logo.

They affix the vinyl designs themselves since a sign company might charge as much as $2,000 to do it.

Their fleet of 12 delivery vehicles makes runs all over the Phila area since they're the FTD designee for all of Philly. One of their vehicles is by Ford and gets great mileage, he said.

Delivery vehicle from the good ole days.