#693 Untied Together

So I drive around a lot in the course of my life. I lead kind of a drive by existence. And as I do I see things on the fly that make me wonder.
Like what I’ve come to call Key Bank architecture. Key Bank architecture is when a company gets big enough to have three or more locations and has one of two issues. It’s either not rich enough to have each of them reflect one architectural design, or it chooses to inhabit places that are, basically, available.
As a result, each branch looks like the design of whoever owned it before. Places with one architectural design are like McDonalds and Jack in the Box.
Key Bank architecture is most evident in places like Subway.
So as I was musing on this, I discover that I’m driving behind an Acura Legend. And I ask myself, do they even make Legends anymore?
And if not, then is Legend a more accurate name than ever? And was that some incredible piece of marketing foresight by some advertising genius? Or because some clever Japanese wit decided he’d like to name a car that would prove once and for all that the linguistic stereotype was untrue and it was perfectly possible for a Japanese person to pronounce a car named with the initials R and L?
Personally, I think Legend is easier to say and remember than RL. Letter names confuse me. GMC, GTO, CRV, I feel like I’m in a scrabble game gone horribly wrong.
So then I drive by this furniture store and it’s got every sign in the world festooned on its front and on flimsy corrugated plastic staked into its lawn. I couldn’t find the name of its tree for all the forest of qualifiers. As near as I could determine, it was called Your One Stop Big-Box Furniture Design Warehouse Headquarters.
Finally I’m driving home and it’s dark. The moon is rising in the east and as I look south I see a star emerge brightly from the clouds.
I make a wish.
Then the star gets bigger and I realize it’s a plane.
So does my wish still count?
America, ya gotta love it.