No VacancyPosted: August 17, 2011
Have you ever noticed that the lodgings you see abandoned on the side of the interstate are always motels, not hotels? And they are infallibly present at the exits we don’t want to take, the ones that seem to lead to nowhere. I see these places, and I can’t help wondering what happened to them. Where did all the people go? What did it look like in its heyday (if it ever had one)? Why did it close down? Who were the first people to stay in it? Who were the last?
They sit recessed from the road only enough for nonexistent cars to park in front of the rooms, which, more often than not, are now doorless. There is a notable lack of glass in the windows, but sometimes the mini blinds that once hung there have been left hanging askew, bent and twisted. The brick is, of course, its original color, indelibly marking the decade from whence the structure sprung, but the paint is certain to be peeling away from the trim and gutters. The furniture is long since gone, probably with the last drifters to occupy the place, but the signs out front still advertise vacancies and color TVs in every room. They are the original signs with hundreds of multi-colored lightbulbs that were so popular in decades past, and it’s not hard to imagine that their blinking in the dark might have once signaled a welcome stop for those on their way to somewhere else. The signs stopped blinking a long time ago.
No road trip would be complete without spotting one of these relics. In fact, it may seem to some that the trip is not complete without them. And we never like to actually get out and examine these places. There have been far too many scary movies based on them for that. But still they sit, reminding us that we have always had the impulse to wander, to stay in unfamiliar places and sleep in beds that aren’t our own. There have always been those to cater to the need of the traveler for temporary lodging, but look at what they’ve become. Today we have Hampton Inns and Embassy Suites at nearly every exit. They are shiny and clean, and many of them are new. But what will happen to them in years to come? Will we continue to see them as bastions of repose for the weary traveler, or will we eventually relegate them to use in horror movies as we have their predecessors? Will they continue to house those of us on our way to bigger better things, or will they eventually sit vacant, functioning only in the memories of those who stayed in them?