MOTELS

I go all misty eyed for motels. I don’t know if its my penchant for Americana, my desire to drive in an open top red caddy through the desert, my late teens obsession with My Name Is Earl or my first horror movie experience…the OG and ever macabre Psycho. Whichever one it is, I’m not mad.

Seedy they may be; the ideal stomping ground for an affair, home for a half-way down’n'out or maybe even human taxidermy if you go by the name of (cue Ol Dirty Bastard lyrics) “Psycho Killer! Norman Bates!”. The aesthetic cannot be denied. All those mints, salmon pinks, palm trees and neon signs…got us slowly melting into 1950s Americana.

ESQUEEZY