Signs of the Times: The Neon Wonders of New Mexico

If you're in with Instagram, you might have noticed that the better part of a wacky tacky road trip is dedicated to searching out the coolest in vintage signs - neon, figural, hand-painted, animated, you name it.  It is a pastime infinitely more pleasurable than spying out-of-state license plates and decidedly less painful than hours of slug bug/punch buggy (a brand of family "fun" for which I am still nursing decades-old bruises).  Freshly rehabilitated, completely defunct, or merely operational, we go nuts for the gravity-defying wonders rising from America's dusty byways.  Our recent road trip across the state of New Mexico yielded a bumper crop of dazzling signs; here are some of our favorites.

Century 21 Motel - Las Cruces, NM
The mid-20th Century was so full of bright ideas and optimism for the 21st Century,
I can't help but feel that we let our forebears down; our contemporary signs are lackluster
and we don't have hover cars!!!

Tommy's Roller Rink - Las Cruces, NM
Apparently, Tommy's was a small chain of roller rinks that
went belly-up after an employees-conspired murder. 

Pancake Alley - Las Cruces, NM
We tried to taste the fruits of Pancake Alley at least three times
but were greeted each time with the worst kind of sign -  "CLOSED."

Cattleman's Steak House - Las Cruces, NM

Royal Host Motel - Las Cruces, NM
Las Cruces' crowning glory!

Town House Motel - Las Cruces, NM
Semi-detached 

(Or)Gan Mountain Lodge - Organ, NM
This is the only game in town for the yearly Harvest Festival.  If you wake
up in a bath tub full of ice, you might be at the Organ Harvest Festival. 

Satellite Inn - Alamogordo, NM
Atom-powered! 

Thunderbird Plaza - Alamogordo, NM

Mr. W. Fireworks Gorilla - Alamogordo, NM
"Mr. W Rules!"

White Sands Motel - Alamogordo, NM
"You don't belong in a place like this!"

Western Scene Motel - Santa Fe, NM
We tried to make the "scene" but there was no vacancy.

King's Rest Court Inn - Santa Fe, NM
Where Santa Fe royalty rests their heads.

Santa Fe Lodge - Santa Fe, NM

Cottonwood Court - Santa Fe, NM
Bless this lil' ol', cotton pickin' sign! 

El Camino Family Restaurant - Socorro, NM
Now this is a sign with balls!

Roadrunner Lounge - Socorro, NM
Roadrunners are kind of "thing" in New Mexico.  Meep! Meep!

Butterfield Stage Motel - Deming, NM
Animated horses at full gallop?!!  SIGN me up!

The last photos in this group are two of my very favorite signs from our journey.  In the interest of full disclosure, I will readily admit that they were taken not within New Mexican state lines but rather in the fair city of El Paso, Texas, where the signs at night are just as big and bright as the state's infamous stars.

Charcoaler Drive-In Restaurant - El Paso, TX
Even if the menu offerings were not delicious (incidentally, they were), this sign left our mouths watetring!

Sunshine Bakeries - El Paso, TX
We almost died twice figuring put how to get close to this sign but it was so worth it!

Knowing that the sum of a state is greater than its signs, we also commit ourselves to learning about the history, the culture, the food, and the people of the places we visit.  But in a world ever more darkened by drab, humorless signage, we'll continue to count on the glorious glow of vintage neon to show us the way.  Can't you read the "Signs?"

"Signs" - Five Man Electric Band

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Signs of the Times: The Sire Bar & Grill

Are you superstitious?  Do you carry a rabbit's foot?  Do you go into hiding on Friday the 13th?  Do you favor a lucky pair of underpants?  Well, I don't.

Ever the contrarian, I scoff in the face of old wives tales, myths, and conventional superstitions.  I mean, if I had a nickel for every "lucky" penny I found, the only thing that I might start believing is that I was six times as rich as those poor suckers who were happy with their pennies.  Instead, I gleefully open umbrellas indoors.  I earnestly seek out opportunities to saunter underneath ladders.  Completely ignoring my debilitating feline allergy, I diligently train black cats to cross my path.  I never, however, break mirrors; with a gorgeous mug like this the odds are solidly against me.  I joyfully step on each and every crack and, as of yet, I've never broken my mother's back - knock on wood (okay, maybe a little bit superstitious)!!!

The Sire Bar & Grill - Riverside, CA
(photo courtesy of B. White)

Apparently, The Sire Bar & Grill (est. 1955), is also a longstanding member of the ASL (Anti-Superstition League).  Having always been told that the horseshoe should be positioned open-end-up so as to retain all of the good fortune, I was surprised and happy to see The Sire's blatant disregard for that bit of folk fantasy.  In its 59th year of crackling, neon majesty, it is clear that this horseshoe makes its own luck!  "Superstition ain't the way!"

"Superstition" - Stevie Wonder

The Sire Bar & Grill

6440 Magnolia Ave

Riverside, CA

(951)683-7473

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Signs of the Times: Kingman Club

Kingman Club- Kingman, AZ

Giving new meaning to "Dirty Martini," the sign for the shuttered Kingman Club (in Kingman, AZ of all places), had us once again sauntering down imaginary lane.  In its earliest days, did the club serve as an exclusive hot spot - "Where Kingman's elite meet?"  The glowing martini glasses and the neon script with its curlicued "b" had us believing that the club's origins were quite glamorous.  On the other hand, the flickering bulbs and addendum offering such plebeian pastimes as shuffleboard and darts had us rethinking our position.  Instead of Gimlets and Brandy Alexanders, "$1 Well Drinks" were the order of the day (and the morning, the afternoon, and the night for that matter).  With just a moment longer to reflect on the history of the sign, we were left with the feeling that the more-recent patrons of the Kingman Club (decidedly rougher than our romantic visions of Cary Grant and Constance Bennett as George and Marion Kerby) probably gave the stink-eye AND the middle finger to anyone uttering the words "Shaken, not stirred."  

Speaking of middle fingers...
The "Kingman Salute" is a reminder to all who
leave town that Kingman is number one!
(Finger Rock is between Kingman and Bullhead City on I-68)

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Signs of the Times: El Trovatore Motel

El Trovatore Motel - Kingman, AZ

Kingman, AZ is a town filled with brilliant signage.  As we motored down its dusty byways, we took a quick snap of the El Trovatore Motel sign.  Obviously a later addition to the motor hotel (est. 1939), I couldn't help but love the vermillion surfboard and the individual letter blocks.  I love the unpretentious brickwork.  I love the glimpse of the Hilltop Motel sign in the distance.  I kind of hate the magenta/aqua "Historic Route 66" sign.  My very favorite element of this motel marker is the promise of "Clean Theme Rooms."  Taking a look at the offerings on the motel's own website, the theme rooms appear to be little more than framed posters on the walls of "Legendary Hollywood Icons" - the variations being Marilyn Monroe, Elvis, and Audrey Hepburn.  What more do you want for less than $45 per night?!!

And maybe Mr. Magoo...

Trying to dig a little deeper than Elvis and Marilyn, I was struck by the name of the hotel.  As it happens, "El Trovatore" translates to "The Troubador"...but not quite.  Il Trovatore is the famous Italian opera by Verdi; el trovador is Spanish for the troubador.  Was it simply lazy translation?  Was it Portuguese maybe?  Was it a motel owner cashing in on the pre-WWII opera craze?  Far be it from me to nitpick but I was at a loss.  So deep in my pondering of latin-based articles, all I could think of was "The Anvil Chorus," the most famous chorus from Verdi's Il Trovatore.

The Marx Brothers in A Night at the Opera

featuring Verdi's Il Trovatore

And then I started to wonder if there is a Marx Brothers room at El Trovatore.  The connection is so obvious: El Trovatore - Il Trovatore - Verdi - Opera - A Night at the Opera - The Marx Brothers - Hollywood - Hollywood Icon Theme Rooms - El Trovatore (it all comes full circle)!  The theory might be convoluted, but in all honesty, I think that is a much stronger connection than any Audrey Hepburn ever had to Route 66.  Nevertheless, we think El Trovatore is pretty keen for maintaining its Route 66 history and a great sign!  If you're ever stopping in Kingman, stay the night at El Trovatore and report back to us, please.

Are you a Route 66 buff?  Have you ever marveled at the beautiful signs of Kingman, AZ?

El Trovatore Motel

1140 E Andy Devine Ave

(928)753-6520

www.eltrovatoremotel.com

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Signs of the Times: Forbidden Fruit & Faith Lifts

West Virginia radio listeners have essentially two options - and if one is not a fan of contemporary country stations (Mr. Tiny is not), one had better be a fan of gospel music.  On one of our adventure days we tuned into WMLJ 90.5FM's "Gospel Hour;"  I feel like a higher power was involved in the choosing of that particular station because we were treated to an old-timey broadcast that included twin-sister accordion players, a trio of girls singing about the devil jumping with glee when they forgot to say their prayers, and the story of Baa Baa, the pet sheep of a "backward" young boy, Dave, who taught his father that every sheep is important when one is "looking with the eye of love."  Dave's father (who treated poor Davy with total disdain) learned a valuable lesson after Dave stayed out in the rain to rescue the injured and lost Baa Baa.  He said, "Now I can understand what a good shepherd really is, one who will leave the ninety-and-nine and will look for the one who has been lost from the fold."  Christian kitsch - why don't we have more stuff like this in California???

Many years ago, a wealthy, West Virginia businessman was taken ill;
upon his recovery, he made a promise to God that he would use his fortune
 to spread the good news.  Now, trios of crosses (built by the businessman)
 dot the countryside all along the highway in over twenty nine states (source).

We grew up in a strongly religious household but I guess living in California made us comparatively-casual observers when judged against the fervent piety displayed throughout the American South.  West Virginia is about as far north as one can get before becoming Yankee-fied, but based on the signs we were seeing, it was clear that it was time to tighten our "Bible Belt."  Much attention has already been given to the clever messages churches create on their marquees, but we just don't have anything like that in our neighborhood.  In fact, our neighborhood (small by California standards) dwarfs the population of West Virginia's capitol city and yet there are more churches per capita in a tiny West Virginia town than any city in California.  Therefore, I was utterly captivated by the signs and the sentiments.

Some signs are simple and straight forward.

"A change in behavior begins with Jesus changing our heart."
It's like a Christian fortune cookie.

"The presence of the Lord is here."
Should've brought a better host gift.

"Jesus and Justice are coming; ready yourselves."
Is Justice a sidekick, like Robin to Batman?  Tonto to The Lone Ranger?

Some signs are trying...but not quite hard enough.

"The older I get, the smarter my Father seems to get."
Father knows best, as they say.

"We're to[sic] blessed to be so stressed."
Too busy to find too many "O's."

And some signs are just downright brutal in their directness.

"It's HELL to die without Christ."
I hope I don't see you there...

Our favorites, of course, are of the more clever variety

"Forbidden fruit creates many jams."
I wonder what it's like spread on toast.

"Get right or get left."
This reminds of those Left Behind books (I never read them);
I always imagine piles of clothes and pairs of sneakers empty
except for trails of vapor.

"Do not wait for the hearse to take you to church."
Well, it's hard to get another type of ride when you're dead;
you could wait for the bus all day but it won't pick you up.

"Son block prevents sin burn."
Crackerjack!

"Isn't it time to accept God's friend request?"
I didn't even know He was on Facebook.
I'll be sure to get on it!!!

"Are U wrinkled with burden? See God for a faith lift."
I was only going in for a nose Job.  See what I did there?!

Then there are the signs that are so "clever" that the message is totally obscured.

"The banana that gets away from the bunch gets peeled and eaten."
Say what?!  The only thing that makes sense about this one is
the trio of crosses echoed from the full-size highway examples.

Even when its tongue is in its cheek (I hope it turns the other cheek after reading this post), it is clear to me that West Virginia takes its Christianity VERY seriously; the signs and the intentional year-round Christmas decorations (seriously, wreaths, garlands, and fully-lit Christmas trees) make it a wacky tacky miracle to behold.  

Nothing about snake handling on the sign, but how could I be sure???

Inspired by the religious zeal, my sister wanted me to go to a tent revival at one of those Pentecostal churches and write a blog about snake handling and speaking in tongues...but I was too scared.

Instead I went by the EconoLodge; seeing the success
of the churches, even motels are trying to horn in on the act!

"Open Up Your Heart and Let The Sunshine In"

Oh my gosh...that trio was The McGuire Sisters!!!!

Well, don't forget to "Let The Sunshine In."  See ya in church!

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Signs of the Times: Losing My West Virginity

Confronting one's own prejudices is an odd task.  Realizing that the time was drawing near for me to board a plane to West Virginia (well two planes actually because there are no direct flights from California to West Virginia) to visit my sister's family, I wondered if I was ready for the seed spitting contests, the backwoods fashions, the roadkill cuisine, the hollers, the homemade haircuts, the inbreeding, the all-banjo orchestras, the bare feet, the fascinating (mis)use of the English language in that distinctly-Appalachian accent, the jugs of white lightning, the baby bottles filled with Mountain Dew, the fine layer of coal dust on every surface, the dental disasters, the necks of red, the readiness of firearms, the family feuds, and prejudice itself.  It seemed more than slightly hypocritical to be so terribly concerned with others' prejudices when I clearly had a laundry list of my very own.  I spent much of the flight considering what I had gotten myself into by going to West Virginia and wondering if the stereotypes would be justified.  Our pal, Deke, had done nothing to dispel my preconceived, if totally predicated on Hollywood depictions and cartoons, notions about West Virginia with his musical contribution to The Wild and Wonderful Whites of West Virginia, which I watched as mandatory viewing in my Daniel Day Lewis-esque preparation for the role of "Visitor" to their fair state.

Although they'd only been there two months, my sister rolled
up with freshly-minted, West Virginia license plates on her car.
"Wild & Wonderful?"  We'll see about that.
(Source)

Upon leaving the tiny airport in West Virginia's capitol city, I looked around and found immediate beauty; the verdure of the rolling hills was absolutely breathtaking.  Charmed by the southern homes (unlike anything in Southern California's architectural vernacular), with their deep porches, scalloped awnings, and shade trees, I was being taken in by a place that was in the country of my birth but felt so very foreign.  We drove over and back the broad rivers on bridges built by the WPA into landscapes I had never seen before.  We saw names of streets and buildings and towns that were unpronounceable to a tongue raised on secondary Spanish rather than Native American.  We saw so many wonderful signs - neon, engraved, hand-painted, light box, corrugated - that I was reminded of my own credo, "wacky tacky is where you find it."  Almost at once I thought to myself, "I kind of like it here" and in that instant (it doesn't take long), I knew I had lost my West Virginity!

To think that Mt. Hope could have existed with only a handful of partial department
 stores before Aide's "Complete Dept. Store" came along is truly beyond belief.
 Sadly, I think Mt. Hope is once again back in the dark days; Aide's is long gone.

It must be said that I can't stand the flavor of Coke (or any cola for that matter),
but there is something so delicious, refreshing, and fatigue relieving about
advertisements painted on the sides of buildings!

We met a nice husband and wife who remembered this
 building when it was first painted; henceforth, we referred
 to them only as "The OTT Couple."

I am fascinated by secret societies but even more
fascinated by old neon signs.  Add another entry
 into my "Neon by Day" file... 

There is something special about this not-so-special sign.
It has weathered many years on Mt. Hope's main drag and its
steadfastness has been rewarded; no one has ever thought to
 relieve it of duty...a good sign is a good sign.  

It seems like our world refuses to think
 in these shapes and colors anymore.

"Soggy Bottom," that is all.

I live in an area prone to wildfires but I can't

remember the last time I saw Smokey the Bear.

Again with the secret fraternal orders.
There aren't many qualifications one must have to become a Knight of Pythias,
 so it just tickles me that membership is basically guaranteed as long as one
 is not a drug-dealing, professional-gambling Communist.

I can appreciate his ambition, his sacrifice, and his desire to rise
 above a truly unfair lot in life...also his name is "Dick Pointer."

Lewisburg is a little "bougie," but it is
 also historic and quaint...and timely.

Double exposure?
Coca-Cola/Coca-Cola and Gray & Gray Druggists at the True Reformer Building

More Masonic neon

High-class, hillbilly jewelry.

Like the Hatfields & McCoys, this battle rages on.

Dogwood blossoms are always a welcome sight.

Signs that have seen better days are always a plus in my book.

Thanks again, Smokey!

My sis wondered how I even saw a sign painted on this building.
I knew it at once because on the very rare occasion that I drink a
soda pop I prefer it to be Nehi Peach.  We had one local retailer,
Galco's, who stocked it until California's rigid and over-zealous
restrictions against lead contamination banned the importation
of Nehi's glass bottles.  Aargh!!!

Wait a minute? Where are we?

Okay, so I won't be awarding this one a "World's Greatest Sign" mug at the
awards ceremony, but for a state synonymous with the hillbilly lifestyle,
this is one of the very few markers acknowledging West Virginian identity.

Small town theaters are great.
Small town theaters that are still operational are even better!

"Defunct dairy bar," three of the saddest
words in the English language.

I don't even know what The Snake Pit is/was but I was glad to have managed to snap the
 picture before they released the hounds; no sooner had I closed the car door than a couple
 of angry dogs came out to greet me.

A new sign paying homage to the old gets high marks in
our book for keeping with a time-honored tradition.

Familiar face, strange name...It took me a moment to remember that east
 of the old Mississippi, Carls' Jr. is "Hardee's."  Hardee har har!!!

While not technically a sign, I couldn't help but get a kick out of
 a graffito's washable work on the back of a panel truck - crude but fair.

10 WEST VIRGINIA REALITIES (from my perspective):

1. West Virginia has some wonderful signs - rusty, rustic, and sometimes rude, but wonderful.

2. There are more naturally red-headed people there than I have ever seen in all the years of my life combined.

3. Many people speak with an accent but the depth varies.  That said, the stronger the accent the more I love (and try to impersonate) it.

4. West Virginians like their food sweet (even the savory food is incredibly sweet).  It's like many years ago some jokester made his way to every restaurant and filled each salt shaker with sugar; the restaurants, getting no complaints, maintained the shenanigans and the world's oldest practical joke thrives as a culinary tradition.  I would almost believe that except that the sodium level in all the food is enough to bring on instant heart failure as well.

5.  West Virginia is THE smoking section!!!  I thought the "e-cig" was an uber-annoying trend but I'm almost ready to cheer the presence of nicotine-laden water vapor rather than traditional tobacco smoke. (note: I have plenty of friends who smoke but in over-regulated California the number of areas to do so has dwindled to the point where I am almost always treated to simply good, clean smog everywhere I go). 

6. In hillbilly territory, Wal-Mart is NOT the best place for viewing said specimens in their natural habitat. Super Wal-Mart is the go to spot for everyone in town so there is plenty of diversity (read: normal people).

7. Coal mining is still a common career path for West Virginians and coal trains are often seen chugging through the landscape.  If I had to choose, I think I'd prefer to work in a drift mine over a slope or shaft mine any day (yeah, I totally know the difference between mine styles).

8. Mountain Dew is a popular beverage.

As if we needed added incentive...

9. For every hillbilly stereotype that is proven true by a member of West Virginia society (let's be honest, it seems like the White's kin extend far beyond Boone County), there is an equal number of educated, hard-working, thoughtful people who are determined to make a difference in their community (I'm crossing my fingers that this doesn't sound too condescending).
10. The Whites scare me to death...and that's probably the way they like it.

Wild AND wonderful after all.

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

p.s. We have so much more coming from our wacky tacky West Virginia adventures; be sure and stay tuned for all of the fun.