At a time when American optimism feels in short supply, self-proclaimed “retrologist” Rolando Pujol arrives with a collection of Americana that reminds us why we cared about our country in the first place. With The Great American Retro Road Trip, Pujol has assembled roadside attractions from coast to coast into a remarkably thorough examination of American novelty, consumer-driven innovation and architectural imagination. The 300-plus-page book is highly organized by region and category. Categories include Roadside Quirks (where you’ll find everything from Mr. Peanut statues to the world’s largest inflatable lobster), Roadside Eats (so many diners and hot-dog stands), The Inn Crowd (like Wildwood, New Jersey’s Lollipop Motel, which features the smiling faces of two big-eyed children that will either delight you or haunt your dreams) and Cheers! (bars, taverns and liquor stores—an endless supply of neon). The result is an encyclopedic travelogue that is both offbeat and clever. It’s not just middle-of-nowhere treasures, although there are plenty—the over-the-top sombrero-themed South of the Border signs in Dillon, South Carolina (just “south of the border” of North Carolina), for example, are amazing.
The book begins with a trove of New York City landmarks: Katz’s Delicatessen, Russ & Daughters, The Odeon and more. This is where Pujol’s expertise really shines. He doesn’t just provide photographic documentation of these quirky, outside-of-time spots; he adds historical context and really interesting trivia about each place. For example, the chapter devoted to California (“My love for this state knows no bounds,” Pujol writes) delves into the history of “googie,” a hyper-specific term for the kind of midcentury architectural panache you come across in Southern California: “The features deployed included curving roofs, geometric shapes, vast plateglass windows, references to space or jet travel, bold use of neon and incandescence in signage, and more,” he writes. “You know it when you see it.”
After reading this book, it becomes clear that—microaesthetics aside—American roadsides have more in common than you’d think. The bathing elephant in the little fez that advertises Rancho Super Car Wash in Rancho Mirage, California, would be right at home next to the cowboy riding a bagel outside Black Hills Bagels in Rapid City, South Dakota. We’re united by our desire to create and seek out idiosyncrasies that add color and flavor to our lives. It’s a tender realization.
