A few questions for Andy

Recently SJSU's College of Social Sciences asked me to answer a few questions about my teaching and research. I'd dreaded this assignment for the past few weeks. Having completed it, though, I found it a useful opportunity to reflect on where I am these days. So I figured I'd archive those thoughts here...

1. What research questions currently preoccupy you?

While my research has generally focused on communication and the built environment, studying structural and perceptual flows whose apparently distinct places convey inhabitants to a singular space, I have begun to examine disruptions in those flows. Initially I explored, somewhat optimistically, the production of “locale” in roadside architecture, arresting places whose evocations of home and community provide a nostalgic and therapeutic response to the stresses of contemporary life. More recently, though, I have concentrated on the somewhat more ambivalent rhetoric and performance of seemingly (but almost never actually) abandoned places. Currently I am interested in the uses, aesthetics, and ethics of “ruin-tourism” practiced in places like Detroit, Post-Katrina New Orleans, and the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone.

2. What personal factors contributed to your study of communication and the built environment?  

I recall a conversation with a senior colleague, now retired, in which I outlined some plans for research into the history and design of postwar motels, now often used as long-term apartments, halfway houses, and shooting galleries. Summarizing my plans, I noted how my interest in roadside architecture began during the years when my spouse and I drove between Ohio and Florida to see our families. I was quite surprised when my friend asked, “but didn’t you tell me that you lived in motels for awhile?” I was amazed that I had somehow forgotten that dimension to my personal interest in the built environment. Fleeing an abusive relationship, moved by my mother to the relative safety of a Mom and Pop motel, I grew to appreciate the freedom evoked by roadside architecture – and the fear too. Coming to grips with that continuum of feelings is a personal factor shaping my research that long precedes the academic purposes of my work.

3. What has been most challenging in your research and teaching?

While I bring a scholarly interest in theories and frameworks to the classroom, as well as a humanist belief that study and contemplation are valuable skills whose outcomes may not be “measured” or “assessed” in some contemporary meanings of the words, I recognize that many SJSU students (and some administrators) bring what they perceive to be more practical concerns to our interactions. Many folks struggle with the notion that we should cultivate a keen interest in the world beyond our material ambitions, to read, to travel, and to explore a wide range of topics for the pleasure of doing so, for the opportunities to join the human conversation of values, interpretations, and possibilities, without being forced to account for the energies expended in these endeavors as one would complete a spreadsheet. Of course, addressing this struggle is a challenge worth undertaking.

4. How has your position in SJSU contributed to your research and teaching? 

As an SJSU faculty member, I have sought out opportunities to fund my travels, chances to experience the flows and disruptions of places that have contributed directly to my publications and lectures. Along with traditional college grants and departmental matching funds, I have sometimes needed to negotiate some non-traditional opportunities. For example, when asked to teach a second peer training course during my service as director of the university peer mentor program, I agreed with the proviso that my additional work be compensated with a one-time travel allotment. With those funds I completed a cross-country road trip in 2008 whose outcome included one of my most favorite scholarly articles, “Two roads diverge: Route 66, ‘Route 66,’ and the mediation of American ruin.” Though my research has required some similar appeals over the years, I have found that my university is willing to support my road-tripping and globe-trotting ambitions as long as I advance a productive array of scholarly output.

5. Do you have a hidden teaching talent? 

I have developed a small repertoire of songs that I’ll sometimes share with my students to advance one point or another. For example I love to sing “There’s a Great Big Beautiful Tomorrow” in COMM 149 (Rhetoric and Public Life) when we’re discussing Disney’s corporate vision of American domestic spaces, an ideal future of consumer technology. I also sing “[Get your kicks on] Route 66” in any class that includes a discussion of travel and tourism. My singing is not technically a talent, because I can hardly boast a gifted voice. But my willingness to express myself in song contributes to a memorable learning environment – for good or for ill.

6. What is one book that changed your life (or teaching/research) and why: 

John R. Stilgoe’s Outside Lies Magic is a nearly perfect collection of essays that build to a coherent argument for the need to sharpen our acuity about the human-made world around us. I return to his book often to borrow illustrations about how the built environment consists of layer after layer of patina that can be scraped away through physical or mental means, revealing more than mere history as an intellectual exercise but rather the means to encounter bygone modes of life that shimmer like William Gibson’s semiotic ghosts. Outside Lies Magic encourages readers to become explorers of the “why” of everyday life. One example: Stilgoe says that if you peer into the cabinet under the kitchen sink of an early twentieth century house, you stand a good chance of finding apple green wallpaper – the same color found in that era’s police stations and asylums. Read the book and find out why.

7. What is one website/journal/newspaper (in your field) you follow without fail? 

While I scan the international, national, and regional journals that host the scholarly conversations of my field, I must confess that I almost never read an issue cover to cover. Speaking as a former journalist whose work was measured by its relevance and accessibility, I find far too much of our academic writing is laden with foggy, derivative, and frankly soul-sucking prose. Accordingly I don’t follow publications as much as I read a few authors whose works, which typically appear within and beyond one particular field, demonstrate a balance of intellectual sophistication, practical utility, and aesthetic quality that inspires me to improve my own writing.

8. What is some advice you’d give to newer faculty or students?

I encourage newcomers to balance enthusiasm and dedication with a healthy degree of stoicism. Far too many folks approach their duties with a kind of zealotry that blinds them to the subtleties of why people and things work as they do. People who approach each challenge and each obstacle as a matter of success or failure (or worse, as good or evil) end up being frustrated – and frustrating as co-participants in SJSU life. Successful faculty and students bring zeal to their tasks, yes, but they never lose sight of the fact that the world is far more complex than their desires, and that they are merely one part of a much more complex universe whose workings often defy easy understanding. A little stoicism – not dour acceptance but a deeper reservoir of patience and humility – goes a long way in this life we have chosen.

Route 66 in Minsk

Today I delivered my first off-campus presentation for the U.S. Embassy in Belarus. The event was the nation's International Book Fair held these past few days in the capital city. I had little idea of what to expect until I started noticing oversized posters throughout the city advertising the event. Like, really, really big posters!

So today was the big day. I arrived at about 10 a.m. to set up and noticed... that the event center was almost empty.

"This doesn't look good," I whispered to myself.

My presentation was part of a series of talks commissioned by the embassy on the theme of Undiscovered America. I'd fretted for a couple days, trying to dream up a topic that would fit that vision. At first I went overly historical: "Little known facts about the Constitutional Convention," stuff like that. Then I heard about my colleagues' topics. They were talking about national parks, Native Americans, southern music. At once I knew what to do.

I built my talk around Route 66, discussing the Mother Road as a lens upon an America not often seen in Hollywood movies and reality TV shows. Many folks in Belarus presume that all Americans are wealthy and, let's admit it, spoiled. Few have met an American or heard an excerpt from John Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath about the Dust Bowl:

"66 is the path of a people in flight, refugees from dust and shrinking land, from the thunder of tractors and shrinking ownership, from the desert’s slow northward invasion, from the twisting winds that howl up out of Texas, from floods that bring no richness to the land and steal what  little richness is there. From all of these, the people are in flight, and they come into 66 from the tributary side roads, from the wagon tracks and the rutted country roads. 66 is the mother road, the road of flight."

The presentation included a discussion of how highway travel represents that quality of the American Dream that enables people to reinvent themselves far from home, unconstrained by our backgrounds or our histories. It also included highlights of tourist traps, motel architecture, and wonderful people like the recently departed Gary Turner who stuck around to breathe life into the highway, even after its replacement by the interstate system. And naturally I included my video of Route 66 neon.

As I walked around the expo center to settle my jangled nerves, I wondered if anyone would show. To attract interest to the slide announcing the time of my talk, I hooked my roadtrip playlist to the speakers. Owing to the interesting acoustics of the site, with its undulating roof that resembles a jellyfish sweeping through the water, I'd sometimes hear echoes of my favorite highway songs far away.

Tom Petty's Runnin' Down a Dream alongside the Chinese display. Johnny Cash's I've Been Everywhere past the Russian tables. Simon and Garfunkel's America near the Iranian exhibit.

Five minutes before my talk was scheduled to begin, there were about four people milling nearby. Then with one minute to go, dozens of folks roared in and grabbed seats. I launched into my remarks, focusing on the people sitting nearby, only then to notice that another dozen or so were listening from outside the exhibit. I never did get a full tally, but I'd estimate that about 50 people saw the talk.

Highlights:

• Seeing two of my BSU students who'd taken the bus so they could catch my presentation.

• Diving into an a cappella rendition of "Get your kicks on Route 66" and hearing the audience clap along.

• Getting a laugh when I explained the meaning of a "No-Tel Motel."

After the talk and a rollocking question and answer session, several folks stayed to chat a bit more. And I've already received invitations to present my Route 66 speech two more times, once at the Embassy for visiting teachers and elsewhere at a software company in Minsk. And I've gotten a tip to check out a song about the road from Moscow to Brest, Belarus.

So many new highways to explore!

Cars Land 2

For no particular reason, a few more photos from DCA's Cars Land. Oh, and if you haven't yet seen the video, here's a link!

[Photographs by Andrew F. Wood]

Why the bullet holes?

Siesta Apartments & Kitchenettes (Kingman, Arizona)

Why? No reason...

Cars Land

Jenny and I finally visited Cars Land, a remarkable addition to Disney California Adventure. Quick verdict? Cars Land presents an intricately detailed reproduction of Radiator Springs, and a perfect illustration of how Route 66 is becoming "Route 66." This is not to critique the achievements of those amazing Disney imagineers. Touring a life-sized Cozy Cone Motel, gazing upon Ornament Valley's perpetual late-afternoon glow, and savoring the thrill of glorious animated neon at night, you get a charming Route 66 fantasy squeezed into 12 kid-friendly acres. [Check out my video, and click 720 for highest quality!]



Cars Land is predictably crowded, but that's part of the fun. And folks seemed to enjoy the sense of place in this part of the park (something DCA hasn't quite pulled off with their 1920s Hollywood reboot). Sure, beneath the colorful facade resides the same Disney experience: wander-wait-ride-eat-shop. If only Cars Land included more spaces built to inspire interaction among park guests, perhaps a wandering storyteller or two, or at least a couple educational displays about the real Mother Road. Maybe Disney will add a little more Route 66 to their version of "Route 66." But there's no point in complaining. Cars Land, simulacrum that it is, still offers up one heck of a ride.

Planning a visit? Here are a few tips:

1. If you want a chance of snagging one of those Radiator Springs Racers fastpasses, line up early outside the DCA entrance, before the park opens. On both days we visited, they were gone by about 9 a.m.

2. Got your Radiator Springs Racers fastpass? Great. Prepare for frustration anyway. The ride seems to break down a lot.

3. Missed a fastpass? Try the single-rider line, which allows the park to fill every last seat with folks willing to separate from their groups. When Jenny and I used that line (twice!), we managed to sit together anyway.

4. One last Radiator Springs Racers tip: Ride it at night. The neon glow adds to your personal show.

5. Grab a meal at Flo's V8 Cafe. The food is tasty and reasonably priced (considering that you're on a Disney property).

6. Take a look at the Blue Sky Cellar near the Cars Land entrance. They've got a small but interesting set of "making-of" displays.

[More pix]

Route 66 Tiny Town in Lebanon, MO

While visiting Lebanon, Missouri's outstanding Route 66 museum a few weeks ago (in the Lebanon-Laclede County Library), I came across this tiny town: a miniature version of the Route 66/MO Highway 5 crossroads as it appeared in the 1940s.

Quoting from the description: "Principal features were Nelson Tavern and Service Station (with adjoining gardens) built in 1930, Nelson's Dream Village, constructed in 1934, and the Union Bus Station, built in 1941. Like all too many important Route 66 locations, none of these survive today." 

Thanks to Willem and Monique Bor for creating this amazing diorama!

Route 66 Relic: Bowlin's Old Crater Trading Post

During the Route 66 portion of my recent three-week solo trip I came across the ruins of Bowlin’s Old Crater Trading Post. The weather was lousy and my schedule was packed, but I had to sojourn here a while, listening to the whistling wind.

Learn more about Bowlin’s Old Crater Trading Post

Missouri Route 66 Simulacrum

A couple years ago, I wrote a Critical Studies in Media Communication essay called "Two roads diverge: Route 66, 'Route 66,' and the mediation of American ruin." The piece examines the increasingly simulacral nature of Route 66 as many of its boosters and purveyors are forced to include recent media fantasies (such Tow Mater boom trucks, complete with cartoon eyes, from the movie Cars) alongside or atop the original roadbed to attract tourist dollars. [Here's the original article - and here's a synopsis I wrote for Communication Currents.]

A key theme from this essay concerns the role of conflation, as designers gather together a broad range of icons, typically from geographically distant locales, to convey the sense of the whole road in one place. Examples include a couple alignments turned into walking paths, which allow visitors to imagine themselves driving all 2,400 miles within a few minutes, and the Route 66 Casino near Albuquerque, "a neon-lit world of shops, restaurants, and signs thematically linked to a conflated version of the Mother Road set within a giant climate-controlled enclosure" (p. 76). Safely contained, artfully crafted, these simulacra convey the pleasures of Route 66 in a tourist- (and camera-) friendly package.

Since publishing my CSMC essay, I'd read that the Missouri Department of Transportation has opened a Route 66-themed rest stop and information area along I-44 (mile marker 111). The new MDOT rest stop, unveiled in 2009, attempts a similar feat as the Donley County Eastbound Safety Rest Area in Texas, which opened in 2003, by offering a chance for motorists to participate in Route 66 simulacra (or at least walk their dogs and take a bathroom break) without getting off the interstate. During my recent three-week solo trip, I naturally had to see the Missouri version for myself [these pictures come from the eastbound stop]. And while I arrived with my typically critical mindset, I must admit: it's kind of cool.

There's a jaunty welcome sign, an information desk, and an opportunity for visitors to rest in covered picnic areas built to resemble a garage, a diner, a motel, and even Floyd's Barber Shop. It's goofy fun. Yet these very same motorists may not know that the welcome sign is patterned after the Monger Moss motel, a beloved Mother Road mainstay whose towering sign glows at night - just a few miles away in Lebanon, MO. Similarly, visitors may have no idea that Floyd's Barber Shop resides in Andy Griffith's "Mayberry," not on Route 66. In short, they may confuse this "Route 66" for the real thing. And they may not care to learn the difference.

So, should travelers be harangued with some sort of nostalgic guilt for failing to drive the pokey, bumpy old roadbed when the interstate carves its more efficient course through the country? No, of course not. I'm glad that the Missouri DOT built a Route 66-themed fantasy instead of another bland and forgettable rest stop. The signage and structures are artificial, but Route 66 has always relied on that kind of hokum. And let's not forget, visitors can pick up pamphlets and advice at the information desk. They may yet be inspired to drive the "highway that's the best" one day. Yeah, Missouri's got a swell new/old rest stop. It's cheesy and fun, just like any Route 66 tourist trap ought to be. My only regret: I visited during the day. Turns out, the new welcome sign lights up at night!

John's Modern Cabins

During my recent solo road trip, I spent a quiet afternoon at John's Modern Cabins, a frequently photographed collection of 30s-era shacks along a bypassed stretch of Route 66 in Missouri. Once an infamous juke joint whose patrons could crash in chicken coop shacks, John's is now an overgrown wreck that greets unsuspecting wanderers with broken glass and rusty bed springs. Yet it remains a must-see stop along the Mother Road.

Visiting the cabins can be tricky. Heck, I get lost every time I hunt for these ruins. This past trip I realized that I'd failed to even write down a semblance of directions. So I pulled off-road and did some web-sleuthing. Thank goodness a commentator named "southwig" posted a swell set of directions on the Historic Route 66 Forum. I'm reposting those directions here for archival purposes:

"Westbound: From I-44 exit 176. Turn left at the end of the exit ramp and cross over the interstate. Take a right onto Arlington Road (west bound) perhaps 1/4 to 1/2 mile. You will see a couple of businesses on your right, and will need to cross over what was the old I-44 right of way. The crossovers are gravel and present no problems. You will find John's Modern Cabins just a few yards west of the present businesses."[I'd merely add that the cabins can be seen near Vernelle's Motel.]

Back in '04, I found a set of Burma Shave-type signs standing near the cabins [I'd later learn that Route 66 News editor Ron Warnick had planted them]. The signs read: "Photograph These/While You're Here/The Wrecking Ball/Is Looming Near." During my most recent visit - just a few weeks ago - I could only see one sign standing; another lay on the ground nearby. I remember wanting to take that fallen sign ("Photograph These") for myself, just toss it in the car. But I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

Thanks to Swa Frantzen for producing this Google Map!

 

[View John's Modern Cabins in a larger map.]

Animated Neon Sign: Route 66 Donuts

Here's some video shot during my recent road trip.

Route 66 Revisited

Here it is! 

Route 66: Neon Highway Revisited is a remake of a video I produced in 2008, gathering neon from up and down the Mother Road. Some signs have slipped into history; others have been gorgeously refurbished. Collectively they represent a great American narrative of roadside attractions. Check it out!

2012 Solo Road Trip: Day 19 (Rialto, CA to Scotts Valley, CA)

Home at last.

I drove from home to L.A., across the south to Georgia, then north to Chicago, and back to L.A. across Route 66. Today I completed the final leg from Rialto to Scotts Valley. More than 7,400 miles all the way. In the coming days, I'll post pix and videos from my adventures on the road.

Check back soon!

2012 Solo Road Trip: Day 18 (Winslow, AZ to Rialto, CA)

Hi-Line Motel, Ash Fork, AZ

My last full day on the road: Departing Winslow, dropping by Seligman for a new 66-aloha shirt, feeding the "wild" burros in Oatman, photographing the graffiti near Roy's Cafe, and shooting one last bit of neon for my Route 66 video. Now I'm back at the Rialto Wigwam Motel. Tomorrow: Home again! I can't wait to see Jenny, Vienna, and the kitties again.

2012 Solo Road Trip: Day 17 (Albuquerque, NM to Winslow, AZ)

Today began with a sight I hardly expected: two inches of snow, and more falling in thick clumps over Albuquerque. I drove through the storm toward Arizona - and within two or three hours was cruising under crisp blue skies. My destination was Winslow, AZ - both to shoot some neon for my forthcoming Route 66 project and to enjoy a night in La Posada, a refurbished "Harvey House." Dinner in the Turquoise Room featured the best steak I've had in a long, long while. Later I shot a perfect neon motel: Earl's Motor court [Thanks Tara for turning on the blinking lights!]. Aside from some annoyingly slow wifi, the day provided a much-needed opportunity to rest up for the final haul back home.

2012 Solo Road Trip: Day 16 (Tucumcari, NM to Albuquerque, NM)

Slept in at the Blue Swallow, waking to 40s tunes playing from an outdoor speaker. Dropped by Santa Rosa's blue pool (watching as German tourists gasp after diving into the chilly water). Arrived early in Albuquerque - just in time for near-freezing rain.

Blerg!... 

I'd been so excited for a night of photography on the Mother Road's best street for neon, only to imagine it all being washed away by the downpour. Fortunately the rain dissipated for about an hour, allowing me to race from one end of Central Ave. to another, shooting under an umbrella.

As usual, I found fewer lit signs this time than during my previous visit. Surely there will be fewer survivors next time. I'm glad to "save" a few in video form.

2012 Solo Road Trip: Day 15 (Vinita, OK to Tucumcari, NM)

Greetings from Route 66!

Today began early: a high speed burn through Tulsa (making up some time from yesterday's lengthy - and lovely - stopover in Gay Parita) - all in hopes of meeting Harley and Annabelle: the infamous "Mediocre Music Makers" of Erick, Oklahoma.

Showing up, I had no idea what to expect. Despite the presence of a nearby “open" sign, the doors to the shop were locked. I understood, figuring that Annabelle was resting. I was simply happy to enjoy the breezes and the quiet of an Erick afternoon.

I sat in one of those old metal motel chairs near the shop for a while, bought a pop and the nearby store, and then prepared to make my way west. For no particular reason, I drove a circle past a house done up as gaudily as the shop. I saw a scraggly looking dude and thought to myself, “Oh, man, that’s got to be Harley!”

I introduced myself, saying something like, “Hi, you’re Harley, right? I don’t know you, and I certainly understand that y’all aren’t performing these days. I just wanted to say hello, and to wish you and Annabelle well. I hope she’s OK.”

Harley grabbed me in a bear hug and insisted that I join him inside. Two other folks, Canadian tourists, came along within a couple minutes and joined us in the living room. So there we were, all of us sitting in Harley and Annabelle’s insanely rambling abode.

I shared my best wishes with Annabelle, and I assured her that I was merely happy to see her. Certainly she wouldn’t want to perform, given her need for rest and recuperation. But she insisted that the company and a chance to sing a little helped her spirits.



We swapped stories, took pictures (I’ll have to explain the bedroom pix to my spouse!) and toured both the house and the shop. I’m not normally a “hugger,” but I was hugging everyone as we departed about an hour later. I also followed Gary Turner’s advice, asking them to sign my copy of David Wickline’s sublime Images of Route 66.

“Only special people,” Turner insisted. Well, no doubt, Harley and Annabelle are special people. At this point, I’m sure that all roadies know that the Mediocre Music Makers can’t perform on a regular basis. This was just one of those lucky days. I’m hoping that all lovers of 66 will keep a warm thought (and maybe say a prayer or two) for these wonderful folks. Harley and Annabelle have given us so much.



The rest of the day was lovely: driving west through Texas, adding my spray-paint greetings at Cadillac Ranch and taking a detour somewhat north to shoot a remake of the final scene from Cast Away (I'll see about editing the video later tonight or tomorrow). Now I'm in Tucumcari, staying at the perfect home away from home: the Blue Swallow Motel!