As part of my research for the forthcoming Moon New Mexico guide, I end up reading all those glossy visitors guides that are always in your motel room, usually with a coffee ring on the cover left by the previous tenant.

Every sad little town has one, written with varying degrees of cogency and featuring more or less faded photos. The most desperate ones–which combine tourist info with data on why you might want to invest in this particular exit off I-40, for instance–always make me depressed. Like seeing the ugly puppy left at the pet store in the mall. Sad. But I’m not going to help it either.

The worst part is when the reach so clearly exceeds the grasp, as in this kicker from–well, it seems too mean to name the chronically windy town of 5,000-and-shrinking-every-day:

It has been said that living well is the best revenge, and […] has all the ingredients to make that dream a reality.

I wish them all the best. I really do. It’s just that I can’t help. I’m sorry. (Turning away. No eye contact. Stepping on the gas…)