Recently, my wife and her friends Luke and Lucas from the YouTube channel Luke Explores checked out the now long-abandoned I-86 Diner in Parksville, New York. It’s a relic of the grand tradition of American dining—one of many across the nation buried beneath the weight of greasy takeout bags and UberEats orders.
Thanks to what fast food and fast living culture has done to America, this historic former restaurant is now an abandoned husk of what it once was. Once upon a time, you could sit in a vinyl booth under flickering fluorescent lights, sipping on weak coffee as you pretended to care about what you were having for dessert. The I-86 Diner is a wistful reminder of the times when the local diner was a community staple, a place where conversations happened face-to-face, not just in the void of comment sections and DMs.
But now, it seems society had no interest in sustaining and preserving such a treasure when we can just click a button and have our synthetic sustenance delivered in 15 minutes or less. Fast food culture, with its endless procession of cheaply constructed burger joints and cookie-cutter chain restaurants, has done to American history what a fire does to an antique store.
It seems people tell themselves, purposely or not: “Why bother preserving the ambiance of an old diner with actual character when you can bulldoze it and put up another Starbucks with the same five overpriced drinks and faux-rustic decor?” It seems no one has time for a leisurely meal when we’ve got social media algorithms to feed, TikToks to scroll through, and nihilistic humor to laugh-cry at for hours on end from our favorite lounging spot.
Fast living has become the American dream on speed—consume, discard, repeat. We live in a disposable culture where even our culture has become disposable. Diners like the I-86 were more than just pit stops. They were places where people gathered, swapped stories, and created memories. Now, they mostly serve as rotting carcasses which are just photo-ops for the next round of Instagram content, a brief nod to history before everyone races back to their SUVs to grab an Egg McMuffin on the way home.
Honestly, it’s a wonder we even remember the past at all. This is why documenting the past is a noble endeavor. It’s actually a very good thing that people are fascinated by exploring these abandoned relics. It’s a privilege to have YouTube channels like Luke Explores to remind us of what we’ve lost. Maybe someday, the influencers of tomorrow will explore the last surviving McDonald’s, marveling at its archaic ordering kiosks and the remnants of a culture too addicted to its own convenience to notice the rot setting in right before their eyes. Perhaps they’ll stumble upon a forgotten Big Mac, perfectly preserved in its box, a testament to our love for fast food—and the price we paid for it.
The I-86 Diner didn’t die of old age—it died because we fed the beast that starves local communities and chews through history like a two-for-one burger deal. These images and the upcoming video about it are important historical documentation ofwhat still remains that reveals what this world used to be before this postmodern malaise we’ve all entered into.
I’m super glad that Tom, Luke, and Lucas were able to document even just this little piece of how this world used to be before this postmodern malaise we’ve all entered. How can’t we even support a historic diner to keep it open?In the meantime, I’m sure we’ll soon be zooming past even more abandoned diners at 80 miles per hour, crumbling in the shadow of strip malls, while the rest of our peers are searching for the nearest drive-thru to satiate their next over-priced uber convenient fast-food fix.
~ Amelia Desertsong
P.S. If you enjoy #urbex, here’s some more photos from Tom and Luke Explores’ excursion to Mount Utsayantha to check out the fire tower and the view.
Also, this: Capturing Decay: Exploring An Abandoned Psychiatric Hospital Power Plant
And this: The Beauty Of Decay: Inside An Abandoned Psychiatric Hospital
Please check out Tom’s Instagram @rescuegirl557!
