Rural Banter

Author: Erica Goodman

Times Square can be a bit overwhelming for first time visitors. It's called the "Crossroads of the World," and considering the variety of eccentric people who pass through, it is unclear what world that is. On my first trip to New York City, I had the pleasure of meeting one of these characters - the "Naked Cowboy." With a pair of white briefs with his name across the back in bold red and blue letters, he was not actually naked. And sure, his cowhide boots and ten-gallon hat looked pretty country, but those did not make him a real cowboy either.

Intrigued by goldilocks and his interpretation of rural attire, I went up to him and posed for a picture. Every girl knows that such a John Wayne-cowboy type is never one to marry - he will always be on the road traveling to rodeos instead of settling down. And he will love his horses more than his children. Yet there stood the Naked Cowboy, solidly planted in the middle of the bustling square with not a horse in sight, only a polished acoustic guitar slung over his shoulder. I smiled to myself, thinking of how the scantily clad young man would fare should I bring him home to my family. He would hardly last one week milking cows and cleaning stalls. So I brushed off the thought of wedding bells and shook his hand before saying our goodbyes.

As I continued walking, I realized that Times Square has another unusual feature that stands out much more than a guitar-playing character - the never-ending billboards. Vermont can claim its own array of odd individuals but traveling by its serene landscapes never gives me the same dizzy feeling as a walk down Broadway. The hub of New York City activity is exceptional with its well-known display of creative billboards. Neon lights of every color snake up the sides of the buildings. From stock market numbers to lounging models to life-size cars, nearly every display is a different piece of commercial advertising art. The signs are no cheap endeavor, either, with prices reaching $10 million for a stint on the side of the Morgan Stanley building.

So where are all the billboards in Vermont? State law, actually, prohibits any such displays from taking root along the highways of Vermont. The last one was removed in 1975 and businesses have since claimed that taking down the obstructions have actually increased tourism. Most billboards, backed by one of three national corporations, also have no connection to local interests. Country roads are difficult to navigate, so Vermont adapted by putting up Tourism-Orientated Direction Signs. The directionals supply information on local attractions without dominating the horizon. The state legislature has ensured that a main street illuminated by sleek advertisements would look almost as odd as a grown man standing on the Middlebury green in his underwear. Like the Naked Cowboy, I suppose some things are just meant to remain where they are.