Waiting for a Sign
Two things. The first is that Blogspot has been brutally slow and quirky with the uploading of photos lately. The second is that somewhere along the line, I've picked up an annoying yet full-blown cold. The combination of these two things is going to abort any attempt I may have made at witty commentary concerning the signs I found on vacation.
That said, I firmly believe a lot of these photos speak for themselves and require no further explanation nor written editorial. I mean, what could I possibly add of relevance to a very, very small town having a beer joint called Chum's bar? Not a whole helluva lot, I promise you. But I do suggest you click that picture and see it in it's full scale glory, it's a lot better that way.
Tell me, is there some kind of law that all small towns have a Ben Franklin dime store on Main Street? As you can see from this guy's glove, I was in Michigan. He's representing the Wolverines, not the Spartans, yo. And this guy was the only person of color I saw the whole time I was there, although there were some Mennonites at the Saginaw airport, and they were pretty colorful.
I'm saving my photos of Midwestern architecture for last because I think they are among the best. Hopefully Blogspot will cooperate with that venture. M*A*S*H just came on in the other room, and I'm going to take my box of Kleenex and go watch it.