Nostalgia beckons on Main Street in Mesa, Arizona with a slew of old-fashioned motel signs lining the road. Caroline was attending a meeting of the Intermountain Weavers and I had about an hour and a half to entertain myself. Out of the parking lot of a fancy new hotel where the meeting was taking place I drove east on Main Street stopping to admire these great old motel signs. I wish I didn’t live in the Phoenix area so I could justify taking a drive to Arizona and staying in a couple of these places that harken back to an era when exploring the United States by car brought a sense of amazement that neon was lighting the night and the drive-in restaurant was making life convenient. Today’s hotels are sterile and common, the restaurants uniform and generic. A golden age is gone replaced by a sense that nothing is very important or new. What of this modern era will have us look back in thirty years with fond recollection of a time when things looked more modern than the future?