The fabled Mississippi Delta is a small, alluvial flood plain between Memphis Tennessee and Vicksburg Mississippi – the home of the blues and rock and roll. Unlike your average river delta (note the small ‘d’) it’s not at the junction between a river and the sea.
The House Of Blues is Orlando’s tribute to the Delta. This door is flanked by the crossroads at Clarksdale, immortalised in several songs, and a map where the Delta appears as a soil-coloured triangle. The path of the Mississippi River is indicated by a gap in the artwork, letting us see through to the wooden boards.
Continue reading “Delta: The House Of Blues”
An old song drifted into my mind when I saw this week’s photo challenge prompt:
As I sit and bathe
In a wave of nostalgia
For an age yet to come.
That thought is perhaps best left dangling like a participle, though there is an oblique connection (trust me, there always is) to these oversized branding signs. They’re part of a past that I’ll never fully understand. I don’t know what DX stands for (I cropped the D out). I can’t even date them.
I used to see adverts and film segments on British TV showing American trucks pulling into American petrol stations, or teenagers hanging out in cars, getting soda from a drive-through that looked like a petrol station. In my naivety, I used to think this was nostalgia – that these scenes were retro-styled, hankering back to a loved, lost past. I didn’t realise it’s like that now. In places.
The present looks different, depending on where you are. American trucks really are L-shaped, with bonnets (hoods) like oversized cars. Sonics exist. No need for nostalgia – if a soda float floats your boat, it’s right here, right now.
But back to the signs and their context. Their bold colours and logos were once deployed to promote things, but today they’ve retired to the country. Together with a lot of old, corrugated tin and reclaimed wood, they now reside at one of the world’s most characterful B&Bs. Continue reading “Red, White and Blues in The Delta”