Wednesday, March 15, 2006

Generic Nowhere

OK, here we are. We're right in the middle of.....well, it's some town, somewhere. Who knows, but we know that we were there since we have this photo, but can't quite place it at the moment. But, how could anyone place this place ? It's....nowhere. Don't for a moment think that forgettable store fronts such as these just happen. Heck no, there are rules and specifications to be followed to become a Generic Nowhere place.

A minimum of at least 3 distinctly different brick patterns are required to qualify as in our book. If the mortar is also dissimilar then you have some bonus points coming. Of course, the sign over the door must have lost its letters and even their outline should be faded to give no clue as to what it might have been. This keeps 'em guessing and it's well on its way to becoming legally Generic Nowhere.

It's your choice of fuel as long as you don't need any. Notice the shrewd placement of the gas pump cleverly blocking visitors from entering the front door. People who live in the Generic Nowhere just love a blasted old spent gas pump. They'd rather stare at one all day than gain entry to essential goods, that is, if such goods were available which they clearly are not. Either bent, broken or never used articles and implements must be stored barely within view of windows which should be a bit too dirty to see through. Visitors should be tempted, but never visually satisfied.

The building on the right is coated with that wonderfully unmemorable green. Where one camouflages the senses, an artistic amnesia obtains. Where windows cannot be kept sufficiently dirty, the view may be blocked using any textile goods which are faded enough to exude dinginess. In keeping with code, they have employed the classic standing seam tin roofing which is found on every out building in every nowhere place and undistinguished in every way. The glass door should be clean, clear, but the interior totally empty and dark so that motorists mistake it for a viable enterprise, pause, exit the vehicle then peer into the nothingness only to become vexed.

Whoops, now that we think of it you cannot find the make of the car written anywhere on the visible exterior surfaces of the vehicle. Neither " Ford " nor " Mustang " appear on the car. It came that way. { Note: Some V-6's do have "Mustang" marked on the rocker panels, but we don't know nuttin' 'bout no V-6 }.

Oh well, we are the other side of the coin we think. When your design is that unmistakable, when your style is so individualistic, who needs a label, 'eh ? Don't you just hate our arrogance ! Don't you just want to key our finish ! Don't you even want us to get a parking ticket ?

2 Comments:

Anonymous Joan said...

I believe the Mustang Rolled right through Poor Maria - or Pomaria. :)

5:53 PM  
Blogger Windviel said...

Hey, thanks! It was such a generic place that we couldn't find it on the map in fact we couldn't find a map. We don't think that GPS works in Poor-Maria, but it must have been a nice day from the photo. Thanks again for stopping by.

10:25 PM  

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