Exploring
Yesterday I set out to do some more concerted exploration of just what these Spookytown outskirts have to offer. For a change of pace, I went on a hike that was kind of boring. It looked mostly like this:
Meh. The trail was not only blazed basically every five steps, with either a painted spot on a tree or a ribbon tied to a branch, but also every quarter mile found markers like these:
Let's just say it didn't feel very back country. Also, my expectations were raised by this map,
but the only person I saw on my 7-mile loop was a very abled 50-something guy, who passed me twice on his 15-mile run, which apparently entitled him to hit on me, somewhat excessively, in the parking lot. This intriguing sign, like his advances, also led nowhere:
Any ideas on what it could possibly mean? Anyway, the most 
aesthetically pleasing thing in the forest turned out to be pine bark, slightly mossy, in dappled sunlight. For all that I am disdainful of Russian foto oboi, wallpaper murals made from enlarged photographs of nature scenes (usually either the Russian countryside or some tropical palm-treed island), I kind of wished I could replicate this in my home somewhere. You know, a darkish study with leather club chairs and a fireplace, and one wall with a repeating (but smoothly done) pine-bark-in-dappled-sunlight pattern. If they're doing it for ultra-realistic camouflage, why can't I do it for interior design?
After lunch, for a real change of pace, I decided to walk on over to my local strip malls and see just what they have to offer. I've been showing only pretty nature, or piquant aspects of semi-urban living, but really, I'm just half a mile from endless strip-mall hell which stretches from my intersection basically all the way to my turnoff for work (yes, I'm still driving, but a new walk-bus-walk commute should spring into action next week).
Most of the Spookytown outskirts seem to be large streets (three lanes on each side + median) flanked by strip malls and fast-food outlets. But it turns out that, due to the Spookytown Metro Region's huge immigrant population, these strips malls are housing all kinds of interesting stores, and not just the monotonous offerings of my strip-mall suburban youth. For example, we begin with the strip mall closest to my house, about half a mile up the road. I had only noticed the 7-11, easily visible from the car. But it also is home to a 24-hour Salvadorean cafe (sorry, no 3am partying here, though, as its liquor license was revoked in January of 2004 due to: sales to minors, open containers, sales to the intoxicated, and sales during prohibited hours. And all this is displayed on a giant pink sign in the window. Oops.). More interesting for my purposes is the Vietnamese grocery store, where they sell, among other things, tripe. In a bucket. On the floor. I'm always fascinated by the canned goods in
Asian food stores, even though I never buy any. This place also had an excellent selection of jarred items, although my photos (snapped in a hurry, as the store was packed and I didn't want to look like a weirdo) are too blurry to post. It's good to know that at my next social gathering I can serve Pickled Young Grapes, Pineapple Gel In Syrup, and Sweet Macapuno Balls (also in syrup). 
Just down the street was a tripe-free (but goat-meat heavy) market with a "tropical specialty." It was filled with Africans and Carribeans buying all kinds of exciting food products, like 20 lb. bags of fufu (much easier when you're not pounding it yourself), and any of the six kinds of yam (Brazilian yam, Peruvian yam, etc.) and three kinds of sweet potato on offer. People waiting on line at the meat counter (I decided to not look too closely at what was being sold) were dancing to the Little John song on the sound system, but a visit to aisle three had me thinking that they had stopped off there first and that was the explanation for the good mood.
I'm required to be drug free for work, so left that aisle as quickly as possible. There were all kinds of exciting things for sale in this strip mall complex; for example, these lamps reminded me that I need to start doing yoga again. In hell, apparently.
There were many lovely faux hair products, like these hair-scrunchies for holding your ponytail.
This faux hair display was found at a shop called "Holiday Wigs." I don't know, they looked kind of everyday to me.
Here we see a lonely mannequin off to the side - she apparently has to model the velcro mini-mohawk. It's a good look for her, though.
Last, but not least, we find this mini-display in the window of a Dollar Plus store (don't forget to click for a close up). The semiotics of this are just beyond me - I leave you all to your own individual readings.
Meh. The trail was not only blazed basically every five steps, with either a painted spot on a tree or a ribbon tied to a branch, but also every quarter mile found markers like these:
Let's just say it didn't feel very back country. Also, my expectations were raised by this map,
but the only person I saw on my 7-mile loop was a very abled 50-something guy, who passed me twice on his 15-mile run, which apparently entitled him to hit on me, somewhat excessively, in the parking lot. This intriguing sign, like his advances, also led nowhere:
Any ideas on what it could possibly mean? Anyway, the most 
aesthetically pleasing thing in the forest turned out to be pine bark, slightly mossy, in dappled sunlight. For all that I am disdainful of Russian foto oboi, wallpaper murals made from enlarged photographs of nature scenes (usually either the Russian countryside or some tropical palm-treed island), I kind of wished I could replicate this in my home somewhere. You know, a darkish study with leather club chairs and a fireplace, and one wall with a repeating (but smoothly done) pine-bark-in-dappled-sunlight pattern. If they're doing it for ultra-realistic camouflage, why can't I do it for interior design?
After lunch, for a real change of pace, I decided to walk on over to my local strip malls and see just what they have to offer. I've been showing only pretty nature, or piquant aspects of semi-urban living, but really, I'm just half a mile from endless strip-mall hell which stretches from my intersection basically all the way to my turnoff for work (yes, I'm still driving, but a new walk-bus-walk commute should spring into action next week).
Most of the Spookytown outskirts seem to be large streets (three lanes on each side + median) flanked by strip malls and fast-food outlets. But it turns out that, due to the Spookytown Metro Region's huge immigrant population, these strips malls are housing all kinds of interesting stores, and not just the monotonous offerings of my strip-mall suburban youth. For example, we begin with the strip mall closest to my house, about half a mile up the road. I had only noticed the 7-11, easily visible from the car. But it also is home to a 24-hour Salvadorean cafe (sorry, no 3am partying here, though, as its liquor license was revoked in January of 2004 due to: sales to minors, open containers, sales to the intoxicated, and sales during prohibited hours. And all this is displayed on a giant pink sign in the window. Oops.). More interesting for my purposes is the Vietnamese grocery store, where they sell, among other things, tripe. In a bucket. On the floor. I'm always fascinated by the canned goods in
Asian food stores, even though I never buy any. This place also had an excellent selection of jarred items, although my photos (snapped in a hurry, as the store was packed and I didn't want to look like a weirdo) are too blurry to post. It's good to know that at my next social gathering I can serve Pickled Young Grapes, Pineapple Gel In Syrup, and Sweet Macapuno Balls (also in syrup). 
Just down the street was a tripe-free (but goat-meat heavy) market with a "tropical specialty." It was filled with Africans and Carribeans buying all kinds of exciting food products, like 20 lb. bags of fufu (much easier when you're not pounding it yourself), and any of the six kinds of yam (Brazilian yam, Peruvian yam, etc.) and three kinds of sweet potato on offer. People waiting on line at the meat counter (I decided to not look too closely at what was being sold) were dancing to the Little John song on the sound system, but a visit to aisle three had me thinking that they had stopped off there first and that was the explanation for the good mood.
I'm required to be drug free for work, so left that aisle as quickly as possible. There were all kinds of exciting things for sale in this strip mall complex; for example, these lamps reminded me that I need to start doing yoga again. In hell, apparently. 
There were many lovely faux hair products, like these hair-scrunchies for holding your ponytail.
This faux hair display was found at a shop called "Holiday Wigs." I don't know, they looked kind of everyday to me.
Here we see a lonely mannequin off to the side - she apparently has to model the velcro mini-mohawk. It's a good look for her, though.
Last, but not least, we find this mini-display in the window of a Dollar Plus store (don't forget to click for a close up). The semiotics of this are just beyond me - I leave you all to your own individual readings.
posted by Pangea at 10:13 PM
3 Comments:
"The semiotics of this are just beyond me" indeed.
I am very curious about the concentric semi-circle trail blaze.
Maybe it means, "beware, ahead is sublime" (may be too intense for some)
It makes me think of those people trying to design 'universally recognizable' signage for nuclear waste burial sites in Nevada that are supposed to be comprehensible as "DANGER. STAY AWAY" up to a million years from now. And we can't even figure out this thing, put up within the last ten.
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