I heart I-84 and I-84 hearts me

I've been getting pretty hot and heavy with I-84 lately. Maybe it's my gentle eyes, the sweet nothings I whisper to the cracked asphalt as I roam its nooks and crannies with my car. Maybe it's the holidays and multiple trips to Boston to finish a film project. Either way, the highway and I have become pretty familiar. Not "familiar" familiar. That won't happen until 84 gets on one knee and produces a ring (I'm no hussy, after all). But familiar enough that I've begun paying attention to the billboards that line the long stretches between West Hartford and Massachusetts.

And all I can say is that Connecticut has a weird sensibility with street advertising. 

The initial billboards that greet drivers heading south from Massachusetts are for establishments that promise nude women. It's as if Connecticut is saying, "Hey Northern New England, you bunch of sheltered wimps, welcome to the dirty south, where we let our freak flags fly!" This would be true, of course, if Connecticut wasn't one of the most milquetoast places on Earth. In fact, I believe that all freak flags have been banned in West Hartford, with the ruling that such flags clash too much with the painted fiberglass CowParade sculptures.

The first advertisement is for some sort of adult novelty franchise named V.I.P. For the life of me, I cannot imagine this stands for Very Important Person. I don't see many high profile folks heading over to such a place for their nudie magazine needs (though, if you add a bouncer and velvet rope, you never know . . .). Maybe V.I.P. stands for Venereal Infection Possibilities or Vibrant Images, People! Who knows, maybe I'm totally interpreting the come-hither stare of the billboard vixen incorrectly and V.I.P. is something else altogether. Vagrant Inoculation Place? Van Improvement Palace? Village Idiot Plasterers?

The second billboard is for a place called Electric Blue. Now gents, before you assume Electric Blue is some sort of new shaving gel, let me inform you it is really just a strip club. How do I know this? Well, there's the promise of exotic dancers in flashy font (What is so "exotic" about exotic dancers anymore? Aren't most popular dance moves essentially stripper moves without a pole? You know, the "running man," the "pogo," the "Superman."). Then there's the dark outline of a sassy lady which, to me, promises either naked women or some kind of intricate paper cutting silhouette art being done on premises. This being Connecticut, I wouldn't be shocked to see the latter.

Yes, Connecticut seems to like flaunting its obsession with pornography through 30-foot advertising. But there are other treasures to learn through billboards on I-84, the most fantastic being the Nutmeg state's vast pride when it comes to breakfast and lunch deals. Now, I don't know if you've heard of these little gems, but there are apparently places called Friendly's and McDonalds that are really out of sight when it comes to value. And Connecticut is cool enough to not hide these secrets! They want all of you to know about them! How great is that?

Oh, I-84, the wonders that you bring. Without you and your billboards, I would have never had that Super Slam breakfast plate. With your genius, I now know where to get a rug, who to call to get out of a drunk driving conviction, and that, apparently "size matters." You truly are a Voyage In Pleasure.