In Search of the Giant Orange

In Search of the Giant Orange

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"As it turned out, he would make a second trip around the country to shoot all the photos he had missed. Left to his own devices and directions, he would nearly incinerate in South Dakota and nearly freeze to death in Montana; he would meet a coffin maker who made furniture that you could use around the house and then convert and climb into when your time came; and would be invited to take part in devious and dangerous sexual practices by an obese dominatrix in New Hampshire. Everyone finds the America he is looking for."

Tim Brookes from "A Hell of a Place to Find a Cow"

I was sitting in the Poodle Dog Restaurant in Fife, eating lunch and admiring their poodle dog figurine collection. I had heard rumors that the town of Fife had a giant orange -- a concrete one, from the "duck" school of architecture -- but the waitress thought the nearest one was California. She might be right.

Down the road I discovered a drive-thru cigarette establishment defying current mores; in Seattle I found the words "Wonder Bread" etched across the late afternoon sky, as if the clouds were sending subliminal messages; in Snohomish a giant ice cream cone stands among the evergreens, and in Kingman, Arizona two neon martini glasses compete with the "Jesus is Lord" proclamation depicting true and surreal American diversity. But still, no orange. I am still looking.

This is my odyssey, to seek out the weird little pieces of American culture -- that which still has a personality instead of the slick, calculated world of the consumption makers or the bland clutter of strip malls. Everyone finds the America he is looking for.

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