This is one on of my favorite signs, one of my favorite places, and one of my favorite memory holes – the Lariat Motel, in Fallon, Nevada. I have already written a lot about the Lariat and hope to consolidate it all one day, so I don’t want to go into too much detail here. Suffice it to say that it transported me to another dimension. The Lariat was not only a true time capsule of decor and service, but I used to feel that it was some kind of cosmic portal, as well. It gave me a thrill to know that I’d be pulling into Fallon at night, pulling up at the office parking spot, seeing the old man’s ancient gold Buick, and then waiting for him to lurk out of his living room, behind the front desk, to check me in. Imagine the horror and sadness I felt the day I pulled into Fallon for gas and saw that the place was gone. He had died and his son had almost immediately had the place pulled down. It was a vacant lot with one small remnant of the sign remaining and “For Sale” sign posted. I was told by the women across the street – the ones who owned the curio shop – that he had donated the sign to the City of Fallon. I wonder where it is now? The old man was so proud of his sign.