Going South

I once again found myself in the city to the south.  At one time, it was much more prosperous than my town, it had industry and lots of good paying jobs.   But the industry is gone, and now the city looks to attracting the leftover tourists from our town.   And one of the many reasons to go there is this tourist area.

I think that they call it neon alley.   There is always the question of what to do with the signage of a building, folk art that let one know instantly what the business was selling.   (Although I am not sure what the lamp with Aladdin written on it was advertising, possibly magical wishes).  Most of these are no longer going concerns, although at least one of these businesses still exists.

Cigar stores used to be part of the urban landscape, it was a manly thing to smoke a cigar (me and M used to smoke cigars when we went camping to annoy the insects).   And back in those days when smoking was allowed they also sold cigarettes.   The turquoise sign came from a little family-run cafe over on Main street, and we did patronize it when it existed.

These bits of ephemera are just randomly placed on this half block long brick building that has been partially restored.  Located right across from the train station, it had a commercial function at one time.   But now it houses a Senator’s office, a lawyer’s office, a cafe, tavern and an antique shop.  The newer part looks to have been built in 1903 and the building survived years of neglect to remind us of the past.

The background painting surely was done a really long time ago.   I can’t imagine anyone bragging about selling wine from Herrman, MO (I have tasted these on a bet).   Greyhound still offers service, but doesn’t even have an office, let alone a waiting room.   One just stands on the corner near a parking lot.

And a final bit of unusual ephemera is an ancient British telephone box.   Of course it does not contain a telephone, or even cards advertising ladies who will answer one’s every need.   But it does make one wonder “how the heck did this get here”.   And possibly “why”.

2 thoughts on “Going South”

  1. I love it that all those signs have been saved.

    And love the British telephone box. Curious that they say “box” and we say “booth.”

    I wouldn’t want to have to stand on a corner with my suitcase waiting for a Greyhound bus. No restroom, no place to get something to eat, no place to sit down (except on your suitcase). And maybe not very safe.

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