Not quite Winslow, Arizona, but this Florida town can be known for rolling up its sidewalks as soon as the Sun goes down. The trucks heading out of town a metaphor for escaping urban crankiness. Paradoxically, had breakfast once in Winslow on a bright and cold winter day in a large, empty cafe with dirty windows letting a yellowish light through. In connecting with the empty streets, the place had a sort of “going out of business” vibe with dusty fixtures devoid of merchandise making it feel more like an old department store than a cafe. Maybe it once had been an old department store and the cafe was its last gasp of business life. Later, up in the mountains outside of Flagstaff, stopped to see old Native American pueblo ruins deep in the forest. The same ambience resonates in all three instances.