We’ve tried FoPo…but shorthand has become tired. Arleta has a nice ring…but it isn’t quite as encompassing. Laurelwood…too close to Laurelhurst, and nobody’s getting us confused with them. Even a couple commenters offered suggestions—Mt. FoPo ScArleta and FoPo-A-MoSco—but that was mostly joking.
Everything we tried seemed forced. So we waited. Maybe fate would intervene. Or an epiphany. And then one day, voila…it came: The Land of Ooo. That’s it, the Land of Ooo—equal parts gross and promising, just like Foster itself.
And in a nod to perfect cosmic alignment, Foster’s grand marquee (I mean the refurbished sign hanging off the Bobwhite) proclaims who (where) we are. The Land of Ooo.