The Influence of A Windshield Wiper And Tim Prythero Captures The Route 66 Era Perfectly

February 23, 2026

   I have washed my share of windshields in my time, but here is another perspective on the history of the whole squeegee task. . . 

   "I pulled into an Arco gas station in Apache Junction. Gas was cheap so I thought I’d fill it up. While waiting, I got out to wash my windows. I grabbed the squeegee with the sponge on the back, got the windows wet and was in the process of squeegeeing off the water when I noticed a particularly tenacious dead bug. I was paying attention to how I was using the mesh covered sponge and scrubbing the bug off. It dawned on me that this technology was probably about 50 years old.

   "Suddenly, I found myself thinking about my friend, Bob Bell, who told me about when you pulled into his father's gas station—Al Bell's Flying A—you got air in the tires, your oil checked, and your windows washed. Suddenly, in my mind, I realized that in an odd way Al Bell was standing right beside me looking at how I was removing that bug… Would he have advice? Would he approve… Disapprove… interesting that work wise, Al probably washed his last windshield sometime in the 70s and it was over 50 years later but he was still part of that story!"

—Mad Coyote Joe

Ralph Stayner washing a windshield at Al Bell's Phillips 66, 1963. That's the El Trovatore Motel across the street.

(this is an 8mm film screen grab)

  Meanwhile, another artist, this one from Albuquerque, has captured the old Route 66 world in a very cool way. His name is Tim Prythero and I have been a fan since the eighties when I read about his incredible attention to detail in creating his miniature roadside attractions, mostly along old Route 66.

   Ha. The green street sign at lower left says, "Yah Ta Hey"

   I made a vow that someday I would commission Tim to do a miniature of my father's Flying A in Kingman. You know, this one. . .

 

Al Bell's Flying A

   And, I am happy to say that in 2016 I fulfilled that dream. A photo of that little treasure tomorrow.

 "Tim Prythero's miniature world draws us in, attracting us to a place where the future has closed down, and where the uncountable details of anonymous lives have slowly accumulated in the weight of gravity of time. Each tiny meticulously constructed tableau provides a heart-breaking description of America's indeluctable loneliness."

—William Peterson