Small Town

There's often something both charming and demented about small towns. I'm not even sure why small towns exist anymore really, except as places for Walmart to invade. And yet, there they are. Why? To preserve some way of life that the rest of us have moved on from? As a place to house retirees and decrepit mobile homes and budding militia sleeper groups? As picturesque destinations for tourists? There must be some reason.

Here are more pictures of small town New Mexico:

Two-chair barber shop with old school cash register, gumball machine, and taxidermy? Check.

Shuttered, derelict brick hotel? Check

Place to have your your knives and scissors sharpened and your thing reloaded? Check.

Vaguely suggestively named business? Check.

And my favorite: Some kind of social club?  Apparently yes. Here are a couple of shots of the interior of said club:

That looks like a fun place, doesn't it?

If those walls could talk!

And this is the local "good" Italian restaurant, housed in a local historical-y building:

Inviting!  And this is a close-up of what's found on each table:

Ketchup and mustard are necessary condiments for your finer Italian food, I've always said.

(Okay, so, yes. I am being a bit cynical.)