You’re Staying Where? Motel 6? You Lucky Dog You!

Over the last two months my son and I have spent almost every other Saturday at my parents house in the country, where my mature acting six year old “T” spends most of his time developing his driving skills precariously close to my parents’ trees in a golf cart with me nervously, not to mention vainly, gripping the handrail of the runaway vehicle out of sheer terror harboring the belief that if I pull hard enough on the handrail I will be able to control our runaway death trap, with T laughing maniacally the whole time taking immense pleasure from the shocked and fearful look on my face. Despite T’s belief that he is more than capable of operating this misplaced, mayhem-inducing motor coach of the links, I only allow the “solo” driving for so long before my strong instincts of self-preservation lead to keeping at least one hand on the wheel and a foot hovering only millimeters away from the break.

Although I enjoy these little rides, I decided that this weekend we would do something different, and would take a quick weekend jaunt out of town. I had decided on visiting the Los Angeles Zoo, and then entertaining ourselves the following day at Six Flags Magic Mountain. I know all of you emotional sadists out there probably think that I am planning on taking T on some of the most aggressive, trauma inflicting, blackout inducing and projectile vomit causing rides that California has to offer as his penance for the crazy rides he makes me endure on the golf cart, but even I am not that cruel. There are many rides that cater to riders of T’s age and small stature that he is sure to enjoy, and I will end up lamenting after he forces me to ride the same slow-paced ride umpteen times that will dredge up memories of our traversing over the terrain of Disneyland seemingly ad infinitum in the monorail (Oh Mickey You're So Fine) As this was going to be a two-day trip, ample hotel accommodations were going to be needed, so I started scouring the internet for the most economic choice. Motel 6 offered the best deal, and was relatively close to both destinations, so I decided that would be our home away from home for one night.

As I was perusing the website getting ready to make my reservation, I noticed that the website offered a glimpse into my potential lodging via a short video clip featuring the specific Motel 6 we would be staying at. The video actually started with a realistic portrayal of the property, which I appreciated. An outside camera shot of the property came into focus, as the narrator described this particular Motel 6 as an “ideal resting place for road-weary travelers traversing the state or for adventuring-seeking visitors looking to enjoy the lowest room rates of any national chain.” Now that was an excellent job going to their bread and butter feature: economy hotel option. However, despite the quality start, I realized this would be the pinnacle of the presentation, and things would start to go downhill from there. The next few lines stated how they were just 8 miles from Six Flags Magic Mountain, 11 Miles from Bob Hope Airport and “…not too much further to Universal Studios and the bright lights of Hollywood.” To be precise you have to drive 20 miles to get to Hollywood. Now in my mind “not too much further” is the colloquial equivalent to “down yonder way” and “drive for just a spell”, and while I realize that in the grand scheme of things 20 miles is nothing, anyone that has driven in the herky-jerky stop-and-go traffic of Los Angeles’ hellish highways, 20 miles can seem to be an eternity. Many a time in my travels through Los Angeles, I have observed signs that read my destination was what I believed to be only a paltry amount of mileage away, however no matter how many times I switched lanes, honked, flashed inappropriate gestures, banged on the steering wheel or asked myself how such slow moving traffic was even possible, all I could hear in the back of my mind was the classic Atari sound byte of WAGA, WAGA, WAGA, WAGA that so symbolized precious moments of my life being methodically gobbled up not by a hungry ¾ yellow circle, but by the short-sighted road engineers of days gone by that failed to realize the catastrophic example of gridlock that Los Angeles would one day become.

Then the video clip really took a quick plunge for me. The cinematic masterminds behind the clips production just couldn’t help it. It’s not their fault…it’s just the way they are. Like a heroin junkie unable to resist the nagging temptation to indulge in the next fix, the makers of the clip simply could not slake their artistic urges by simply doing the clean, cheap room approach, but had to go over the top, making more out of the hotel than it is. After citing it’s proximity to Hollywood, the narrator’s voice next quipped, “This Motel 6 has a little bit of that star quality.” Uh, yeah, OK, sure it does. And as evidence of this “star quality” the video faded into the next shot and panned across the dank lobby landscape, with it’s drab colored walls, 1973 florescent lighting and one small potted plant. This place had as much panache as a 1940’s hospital with it’s alabaster skinned nurses wearing bleached white uniforms roaming off-white linoleum tiled hallways checking charts hanging from the edges of ivory colored metal framed beds. Oh yeah, this says upscale to me for sure. I had to blink twice lest I thought I had accidentally stepped foot into the foyer of some starlet’s Beverly Hills mansion. The video went on to show other “examples” of high-end boudoir amenities, such as bed spreads suitable for an eight year old (yes, the picture above is of the bed in our room, which T did emphatically describe as “awesome”). The makers of this increasingly overdramatic video then obviously realized they still needed to fill another twenty seconds of video and just started rattling off basic commonplace features contained within the rooms such as “modern bathrooms and plenty of clean towels.” Wow, actual indoor plumbing and an ample supply of non-soiled linens…my heart runneth over with joy and amazement! What’s next? Please don’t keep me in suspense. If you say you have beds with pillows and doors that lock from the inside I may pee myself from excitement. And of course they couldn’t just let it go at that and end the clip. They had to go back one more time, dig down deep, search the inner sanctum of their imaginations, wallow in their creative juices and spew forth one more ridiculous Hollywood reference, “There’s even a sunny pool area where you can lounge about like a movie star.” Oh, I am sure this is exactly the movie star pool experience. I can just see a rich, world-famous movie star surrounded by pot-bellied papas and muumuu-wearing mamas while they submerge themselves in water that has been tainted by the inconsiderate, free-flowing bladders of tantrum throwing toddlers. My suggestion, do a five second commercial, “We’re cheap, we’re relatively clean and we usually have vacancies."