like 10 years ago, i was in oregon for a work thing and decided to tack a few days onto the end of it to visit some friends and do some sightseeing, which involved a drive along the coast of oregon. i ended up getting breakfast in Astoria, which is where some scenes from The Goonies were filmed and where exteriors of the family house Sean Astin's character is trying to save, sometimes referred to as "The Goonie House" were also shot. i decided to check it out, because why not. you gotta park in the neighborhood below and walk up some single-lane/pedestrian switchbacks because it is tucked way up on a hill. the views of the river are incredible. once you're in the neighborhood, there are little signs everywhere "this way to the goonie house".

so i make my way up, there's no one around and all the signs lead to the edge of the property where there's a giant "PRIVATE DRIVE, NO TRESSPASSING" sign, a prominently displayed "DONATION" box, and two flag poles at 45° with HUGE flags. one american, one israeli. they make it impossible to take a picture of any part of the house without them obscuring it. the fence and signage make it so you can't do anything except stand in one small spot before turning yourself around in place, on foot, and leaving. i have no idea what about this warrants a donation.

it was very surreal, though i had to admit i wasn't sure what exactly i expected. as time goes on, i think about that experience and it's details. the hope of sightseeing, the nostalgia of old media, the hype of tourist signage, and all of it leading to an aggressive fence with a "fuck off" sign and a donation box. and those flags.

i think it poetically encapsulates what the lived american experience really is.