I’m going to attempt the Weekly Writing Challenge again. We’ll see how it goes. This week’s challenge is to snap a picture of something that’s iconic to you, and then write about it. No problem, right?
So here is my picture…
But, Twindaddy! That’s a freakin’ road sign! What an astute observation you’ve just made, dearest reader. It is indeed a road sign. Good job.
But Twindaddy! How is a road sign iconic to you? I’m glad you asked, dearest reader. It’s iconic because it’s effin’ hilarious. Needmore Rd. How can you not laugh at that name? I mean, think about it. It’s like they ran out of black top while paving this road and decided to call it Needmore Rd as a joke. And then the name stuck. I would love to have a house on this road just so I could laugh at the reaction I got from people every time I gave someone my address. We’ll get to the reason behind the name in a bit, though.
The Needmore Rd sign is also iconic because it’s a sign I pass by often. See, for those of you who don’t know, I live in Cincinnati (FYI – you’re now in the know…you’re welcome). Almost all of my extended family lives in Michigan. Mostly in the ‘burbs of the Motor City, but there’s also some in other areas of the state. Needmore Rd is located in northern Dayton right off of I-75, so we pass it going to and fro during every trip. And every trip when we pass that road we laugh hysterically at it’s ridiculous name.
I’m not, however, here merely to laugh at this hilarious road name. I’m here to tell you its story. The story of how Needmore Rd came to be thusly named. It’s a compelling tale full of ambiguity and untruths, because I could find no reference material online. So I’m depending on my insufficient memory and quixotic imagination for, well, all the fictitious details.
Needmore Rd is a four-lane highway that runs east to west between Brandt Pike and Shoup Mill Rd in Dayton, OH. The most notable thing about this road is that it intersects with Interstate 75. Needmore Rd is littered with multiple subdivisions, a Kroger, and many fine dining establishments such as McDonald’s and Subway. My definition of fine dining is obviously subjective. There are also a couple of self-storage places and some other inconsequential businesses. Well, inconsequential to me, anyhow.
See, Needmore Rd wasn’t always the paragon of suburban bliss that it currently is. It used to be a simple two-lane highway which dissected beautiful farmland. Sure, there were a few houses and even a couple of restaurants by the interstate exits, but nothing spectacular. It also wasn’t always named thusly. Since there was a time when two lanes were enough to handle the faint amount of commuters upon it, its name was Enough Rd. Absurd? Yes. Practical? Indeed.
Things eventually changed when an unwelcome new business came to town. The locals didn’t realize how unwelcome this new business was until it was too late. Everyone near and far flocked to this new business to consume its goods.
The offending business? Canada‘s answer to Starbucks, Tim Horton’s. The people came in droves. They came from all over. They came for the timbits. They came for the coffee. They came because everyone else was doing it. Hipsters had invaded this precious farmland and began to transform it into the suburban outback it is today.
The poor two-lane road couldn’t handle the copious amount of traffic that now flowed (or attempted to) through it. Traffic was a nightmare. The locals were unhappy. It took them hours to get home while traversing the throngs of motorists crowding the packed streets waiting for a taste of Canada.
The irony was almost tangible. Enough Rd was no longer enough road. Traffic was often backed up onto the north and a south bound lanes of I-75 at all waking hours. The local residents were livid. They were tired of fighting to leave or return to their homes. It was like Black Friday every day.
Public pressure began to mount on the city. The locals used their free time to protest. They marched. The held signs. They spit tobacco juice everywhere. Scuffles broke out between the hipsters and the locals, who were mostly farmers. There were riots in the Tim Horton’s parking lot.
Things would get worse before they got better. Seeing the success of Tim Horton’s, other business started moving in. Waffle House, Hardee’s, Long John Silver’s. The more businesses that came, the more people protested. Their rallying cry became, “Need more road!” They chanted it from dawn to dusk.
Things then turned extremely ugly. Somehow, the locals were able to get one of their own on the inside of Tim Horton’s. The infiltrator, without anyone working there noticing, was somehow able to swap pots of tobacco juice for pots of coffee. Many hipsters became ill and were hospitalized. The culprit and his or her conspirators were never found.
Finally, after the great Tobacco Juice Incident, the city reluctantly took action. Construction began almost immediately to expand Enough Rd to a four-lane highway. The city also decided to take a shot at the locals by renaming the road Needmore Rd, poking fun at their rallying cry. The “insult” didn’t have its desired effect, though. The locals embraced the name. They loved it.
After a year of construction, Needmore Rd was finally a four-lane highway. Traffic problems were still there, but light years better than they had been before. The hipsters and locals were both finally content. The locals could get in and out of their homes without much incident and the hipsters didn’t have to worry about being scorned or having tobacco juice in their cups instead of coffee.
So there you have it, folks. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. And yes, we really do laugh at that road every time we drive by it. And no, it never gets old.
Check out these other great Weekly Writing Challange posts
- Weekly Writing Challenge: Iconic | doltd
- Weekly Writing Challenge: Iconic | Send BG to Sea
- Iconic or bust! | New Visions
- WordPress Weekly Writing Challenge: Iconic | Ireland, multiple sclerosis and me
- 10. Grandma’s Recipe Notebook: Weekly Writing Challenge. | Sofie’s Diary
- The Bipolar Ride | Broken Light: A Photography Collective
- The scent of freedom | Master Of Disaster
- Ilya Fostiy. Oxi66. Introduction | Philosophy & Photography
- Love Many: My Personal VIP List | Wiley’s Wisdom
- Weekly Writing Challenge: Iconic | Irregular Ventilator
- Iconic | Miss Pelican’s Perch
- Meet Ron | Front Porches and Candlelight
- Iconic. | artist. hippie. cali chick. chic. nerd. beach bum. fashionista.
- Weekly Writing Challenge: Iconic | MythRider
- Weekly Writing Challenge: Iconic — The Woodstove | SERENDIPITY
- Iconic | Creative Writing Challenge | About This Author
- “Maldives” as a brand, as an iconic symbol | MindBlur
- Iconic | Tony’s Texts
- Catch it While You Can… | Weekly Writing Challenge | The Life of A Thinker
- The Great South Gate of Jeonju: Pungnammun Remembers | The Green-Walled Tower
- Icon(ic) | Pigments of Life
- Call Me Joey. I’m an Icon. | melanielynngriffin
- Weekly Writing Challenge: Montreal’s iconic outside staircases | DCMontreal
- My blue russelue | Growing Up
- Iconic icon | Gizmogemony
- Golden Sheep | Seventeen 20
- Buddha | Things I See and Know
- Iconic: The Shard | Aphro Junkee
- Weekly Writing Challenge: Iconic | S.Owens Writes
- Ojuju Calabar | Something more to think about
- Iconic Sandia Mountains | Living Wonderously
- Stoodley Pike | paul scribbles
- Stoodley Pike | paul dear photography
- Weekly Writing Challenge: Iconic | Writing Reveries
- A fool and his folly | A Wilderness of Words
- Weekly Writing + Phoneography Challenge: Iconic | A Hedonistic Wander
- Fryslân, my homeland | Angel Frouk