Between Santa Fe and Roswell you pass through a few towns the sun and the economy have not treated well. Exhibit A:
Today’s special: Disappoint with a side of tragedy. Hankies extra.
Just when your brain is starting to go numb, the lime-green oasis of Roswell springs up, offering alien t-shirts, mugs, keychains, street “art,” DVDs, snow globes, bumper stickers, spaceships, and more. Much more. Ok, too much more.
Because aliens.
Alien in chains
Italian alien? “Ay, whatsamatteryou?”
I like a frivolous dive into kitsch as much as anyone, and Roswell did not disappoint. If you don’t know the story of Roswell, here’s a summary of how a small town with not a whole lot going on suddenly found itself the center of attention in 1947 when a rancher found a bunch of trash in his fields. He called the cops and someone decided an alien spacecraft had crash-landed. The Air Force: “Nope, that was our weather balloon.” Enter the conspiracy theorists, marketers, hack writers, and eventually, by 1980, an army of t-shirt silkscreeners and wood carvers. The story goes that aliens were found, then hidden, and locals were harshly met with the full force of US governmental obstruction. People still believe that the government has been collaborating with aliens ever since, though I’m not sure on what or why. There are more details, but I have little attention span for people in foil hats. Instead, I present to you the earnest capitalist ambitions of a small town still milking that story of a vast government coverup 70 years later.
Why yes, there IS a UFO Museum. Why do you ask?
No words. Wait. Um…nope.
Roswell…come for the aliens, stay for the alien wedding.
They are everywhere…watching you…glowing in the dark.
What could possibly go wrong?
Why settle for one conspiracy theory when you can have them all?
And just in case aliens aren’t your thing, there’s this shop:
Something for everyone!
Next up: Wide open spaces and destination Carlsbad. It’s about to get cavernous….
