Last week, while checking in with Fusionworks Dance Company in Lincoln, I noticed the “P” was missing on the Pharmacy sign at the Lincoln Mall Target. So it read: HARMACY. I made a note of it because I liked the idea of a “harmacy” as a place you go where the drugs do more harm than good.
Earlier today my friend Gavin, during our lunchtime jog, said he saw his favorite sign amid a string of cheap motels near the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. Trying to set itself apart, one motel advertised free HBO. Except that the “H” had disappeared. Turns out that this particular dive was actually offering: FREE B O.
For a long while a few years back, Junge’s Hotel on Route 16 in North Conway, N.H. had a marquee with a dark letter. So it read: “Jung ‘s Hotel.” I always wanted to stay there, imagining a “Twin Peaks-ian” atmosphere in which rooms would be visited by spirits and angels, Grim Reapers and devils, old wise men and Earth Mothers and the like.
More than once during my bicycle trip up the East Coast a decade ago, I saw signs advertising Sunday events with the S missing that read: UNDAY. The idea appealed to me. Ever since I have tried to schedule one “unday” every month – a day to break routine, explore somewhere new, try something different and tune out the noise of the world. The ritual of the unday as a day devoted to spontaneity and adventure – whether recreational, scholarly or spiritual – is something I’ve cultivated to the point where I can’t imagine a month without one. Amazing to think it was conceived amid a plastic wilderness of pink flamingoes and mailbox manatees.
What was your favorite roadside sign?
Not sure how we missed this, given this blog’s obsession with all things Potato Head. But earlier this year in Time magazine’s “Culture” section, it was reported that Pawtucket-based Hasbro was introducing thinner versions of Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head. Bowing to a carb-conscious public and recent statistics about obesity, the toy manufacturer apparently decided that the iconic spuds should be a better role model for kids, hence the slimmer figures. For some reason, Hasbro also suddenly decided they needed pants. So that’s the news from Rhody: No more naked potato.