This post has nothing to do with DEVIL'S LIMINAL but has everything to do with me and I guess illustrates my experience with Americana:
A million years ago when I was a kid, my family was on a roadtrip and we ended up in The South. I think it's important to note that my mom is a blonde from California, my dad is from New York and still had the gruff New Yorker accent and very much looks and sounds like he'd fit into The Godfather or something, and this was in the era when border patrol would ask my parents if they were illegally sneaking me into the country. So, in The South, we stuck out and did receive a few comments.
We got lost, so my dad went into a gas station to ask for directions. No one would talk to him or look at him. So he was a bit weirded out, and was trying to figure out what was going on. He noticed everyone was wearing a trucker hat, so he bought a trucker hat.
We went to another gas station, and this time he donned his new hat. Now, everyone was super helpful, talking to him, and we got directions. For the rest of the trip he wore the hat and we didn't have any problems. This is my recreation of what this moment looked like.
But anyway, here is my recreation of what that moment looked like: