It’s raining today–sure sign of fall–but this was one of my favorite signs this summer:
Read the sign’s two parts together, you might think the job’s so great, it’s practically a vacation. Or squint your eyes and read only one or the other. After all, a great vacation doesn’t exactly start with an understaffed hotel. And there must be days when waiting on other people’s vacations gets a little old.
I think my daughter took this one, but I’ll borrow it here. We were shopping (hiking pants, I think) when the parking lot view offered unanticipated possibilities. For sale? For lease? Or maybe just the wall itself, available for painting?
We did not order the genuine hotdog of America in Oviedo. But we could have. A bilingual sign, but the instructions–Order it here!–make sure to cater to the local crowd.
And still with the detour signs. I want to riff somehow on the multiple meanings of park (verb/noun/tedious chore of urban and suburban life/refuge/play space/possibility). I think of the map: are the detour and the parking lot one and the same? Is the alternate route a dead end? Maybe it’s a chance to stop, regroup, consider.
And then there’s everything else.
Your vacation starts here. Apply within.