We’re off on the road to Morocco…
Jun. 29th, 2008 11:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
osprey_archerWatched Wall.E this afternoon. (It’s brilliant and wonderful and riveting and it has a quite touching love story, given that the main characters are robots.) Then went to Cairo.
No, not in Egypt, although that would be phenomenally cool. It turns out that there’s a town (read: a dozen houses that blackmailed the county commissioner into giving them a road sign) in Indiana named Cairo.
It’s pronounced Cay-ro, because that’s just the way we Hoosiers roll. We also have a Versailles pronounced Ver-sales, which was the state capital before the founding of Indianapolis.
Cairo boasts an old watchtower from the fifties. Once a roster of Cairenes took turns on the watchtower, searching the night sky for Soviet aircraft carrying nukes to Chicago. The watchtower still stands (although it’s tragically un-climbable), and it’s accompanied by a concrete statue of a heroic family staring off into the distance and a commemorative plaque that lacks both articles and coherency.
The road trip also encompassed the town of Fickle, which is a hundred yards from tip to tail, and the site of the first successful C-section performed in Indiana. It also had a plaque commemorating the event, although this one had correct grammar and complete sentences.
***
I decided I ought to hunt up an Indiana icon, because icon-hunting is a marvelous sport and, besides, it will be useful; I’ll probably be on a lot of mini-road trips this summer.
The problem is that Indiana is short on iconic images. It lacks famous architecture or natural wonders. We have some authors who used to be famous (the fellows who wrote Little Orfant Annie and Ben Hur, for instance) but aren’t really anymore. James Dean and Axl Rose are both Hoosiers, but the general public doesn’t associate them with the state.
I think this icon gets around the problem neatly. To me it very much is Indiana: sunshine, tall grass, unexpected wildflowers; the wonderful possibility of being absolutely in the middle of nowhere.
***
There ought to be a collective noun for icons. A museum of icons? A gallery of icons? A wardrobe of icons? Something more effervescent than a mere stash or collection.
No, not in Egypt, although that would be phenomenally cool. It turns out that there’s a town (read: a dozen houses that blackmailed the county commissioner into giving them a road sign) in Indiana named Cairo.
It’s pronounced Cay-ro, because that’s just the way we Hoosiers roll. We also have a Versailles pronounced Ver-sales, which was the state capital before the founding of Indianapolis.
Cairo boasts an old watchtower from the fifties. Once a roster of Cairenes took turns on the watchtower, searching the night sky for Soviet aircraft carrying nukes to Chicago. The watchtower still stands (although it’s tragically un-climbable), and it’s accompanied by a concrete statue of a heroic family staring off into the distance and a commemorative plaque that lacks both articles and coherency.
The road trip also encompassed the town of Fickle, which is a hundred yards from tip to tail, and the site of the first successful C-section performed in Indiana. It also had a plaque commemorating the event, although this one had correct grammar and complete sentences.
***
I decided I ought to hunt up an Indiana icon, because icon-hunting is a marvelous sport and, besides, it will be useful; I’ll probably be on a lot of mini-road trips this summer.
The problem is that Indiana is short on iconic images. It lacks famous architecture or natural wonders. We have some authors who used to be famous (the fellows who wrote Little Orfant Annie and Ben Hur, for instance) but aren’t really anymore. James Dean and Axl Rose are both Hoosiers, but the general public doesn’t associate them with the state.
I think this icon gets around the problem neatly. To me it very much is Indiana: sunshine, tall grass, unexpected wildflowers; the wonderful possibility of being absolutely in the middle of nowhere.
***
There ought to be a collective noun for icons. A museum of icons? A gallery of icons? A wardrobe of icons? Something more effervescent than a mere stash or collection.
