The Americana Experience



It’s still around.

The iconic motel from long ago, with ‘sleepy bear” and long rows of little rooms without the frills. Broken coffee makers, some rooms near the dumpsters.

When the wind is just right….

It reminds me of my childhood. We camped mostly but on occasion, we would stay in a motel.

My lovely “sister” from Paris is here with her family and their travel agent arranged a stay here at Lake Powell.

Actually, I am really glad the agent picked this place because I told my “sis”  it’s more realistic for most Americans to either camp or be here than a fancy hotel. Plus, it’s important for her kids to see that most Americans are not the vapid, spoiled ones on TV.

She told me something that made my tears sit right on the edge: ” you taught me so much (in graduate school). It’s important to experience what it’s like to be poor (I had nothing then) and to work hard to change your life. ”

Wuhwaaaaa! (Hiding under a rock now. No. I’m invisible…)

Our apartment in grad school was poor, infested with cockroaches that would drop from the ceiling, and decorated with thrift store finds. But it was cosy and we made it our little home, making French omlettes and watching old movies after studying. We lived across the street from a sorority with rich girls driving expensive cars. My roomie remarked “wow, there is a big difference between the ‘haves’ and the ‘have nots’ here.”

Being in a larger town made it more noticeable I suppose, but I was glad I had been taught to be frugal and resourceful. I felt I had a leg up on others. I could survive if my car broke down or if I were stranded.

The little Travelodge bear is on a sign that reads “if you need anything, please call the front desk.”

As long as I have my loved ones, a comfortable bed and a coffee maker, I have everything I need.


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