If
you don't live on the east coast, chances are good that you haven't
seen the billboards for a little place in South Carolina called "South
of the Border".
Situated on I-95, it's basically America's most audacious rest stop.
With an inarguably Hispanic mascot, Pedro, SotB boasts food, rides,
camping, souvenir shops, adult stores, and just about everything else
you would expect to find in an all-American roadside attraction. They've
even got a 200-foot tall tower with a freakin' sombrero on it. Tell
me you've never wanted to see one of those while driving down the
interstate.
But, as much as I appreciate unabashed gaudiness, I don't want to
talk about South of the Border today. In fact, I'm wholly unqualified
to talk about it because, even though Trelina and I drove past it
during a road trip to South Carolina last month, I've never actually
been there.
No, I want to talk about South of the Border's advertising, specifically
their billboards.
The 'boards all feature SotB's mascot, Pedro, and most feature some
hokey play on words and--if you're lucky--some sort of visual device.
For instance, one board sports the legend "YOU NEVER SAUSAGE
A PLACE", and features an enormous scarlet tube that more strongly
resembles a dog's red thing than any sausage I've ever seen. Another
billboard had the frame of a car stuck to it. See the picture below
for the witticism that accompanied that one..
| "They've
even got a 200-foot tall tower with a freakin' sombrero on it.
Tell me you've never wanted to see one of those while driving
down the interstate." |
(Until recently, these billboards were also written in mascot Pedro's
broken English, but the despicable forces of political correctness
won that battle, and now Pedro talks just like any other Yankee. Sell-out.)
The thing about these boards, though... they're inescapable.
They stretch for literally 200 miles in either direction, and each
billboard will tell you how many miles you have until you hit that
spirit of Taco Bell run amuck, the fabled South of the Border. And
they aren't spaced 20 miles apart or anything reasonable like that.
No. You'll get a billboard reminder at the 150-mile mark, the 148,
the 147, the 144... you get the idea. Driving down I-95, keeping a
close eye on the signs for any hint of a nearby Dairy Queen (sidenote:
try to find a DQ along I-95 in North Carolina, I dare you), one begins
to sympathize with the Iraqis during Desert Storm. Only, instead of
weeks of ceaseless American airstrikes, you've got 200 freakin' miles
of ceaseless American eyesore.
Don't get me wrong... I generally like a bit of tackiness, especially
when that which is tacky is eminently aware of, and even proud of,
said tackiness. But I don't like to be bombarded with it either. I
like old British sit-coms too, but I sure don't want to see 200 miles
of ads for Fawlty Towers and Red Dwarf.
Obviously the billboards work for South of the Border. After 30 years,
the 110-foot tall Pedro still straddles the parking lot and the 200-foot
sombrero tower still stands, so somebody's doing something right.
They reportedly have an advertising budget just shy of $40 million,
and the billboards are the main focus of that. And it's not like I
can honestly say that the billboards didn't make me just a little
bit curious about stopping in. Like its soul brother, Taco Bell, the
place is a little slice of Americana in spite of, and maybe because
of, its Mexican airs.
But... cripes, enough is too much guys. Take some of those signs
down and let the countryside breathe a little. Any more of these things
floating around the highways, and future generations are going to
think we were a bunch of sombrero-wearing, siesta-taking, sausage
lovers with a propensity for bad puns. Not how I want to be remembered,
I'll tell you that much. No...I want to be remembered as a cruel despot
who crushed all would-be resistance in his iron grip.
But that's another rant.