rare visions and roadside revelations

Let the Weasels be your travel guides!

2009-06-19T07:26:00.007-05:00

(click on images for closer view)

Now you can visit the same places the the guys have been, with this handy fit-in-your-glovebox travel guide. Over 750 listings, tons of photos and a lot of punctuation. Visit KCPT's site to order yours today!

the end o' the line

2009-05-15T22:55:00.002-05:00

You've gotta like a place that's honest about its intentions. Da Yoopers Tourist Trap in Ishpeming, Michigan qualifies. They want to sell you all things U.P. and entertain you a bit while you're there. The snow pole out front, which showed how high the 272 inches that fell one winter really is, certainly caught our attention. As did the World's Largest Rifle, built by Tom Moran, whose ironworks we saw in Onaway a few days back. And a very cool hand-made map that covered an entire wall, along with a Yooper version of the internet.

We used the parking lot for some show-ending catch, bought souvenirs aplenty, and started the long drive back. Yep, these six shows are now shot, and we're sitting in an Iowa hotel, amazed that twelve hours ago, we were a mile from Lake Superior. I'm bushed, and pleased that after almost 5,000 maniac miles, we're right on schedule. It's almost as if WE KNEW WHAT WE WERE DOING! Hope that when the shows are put together, I'll still think so (and you will too.)

Music In the Van--James McMurtry's new one, Old 97's "Fight Songs", "K.T. Tunstall "Drastic Fantastic", Dr. John "Live at Tipitina's"

Don's found $$--Another day with nothing! Is it the recession or what? Final totals are sketechy, but somewhere just over $6.00

Yupper-duper day

2009-05-14T21:07:00.002-05:00

From the beginning of this trip, Michigan's U.P. or Upper Peninsula has been beckoning us. It's so far north, and so set apart from most of the world that we knew we needed to see it. Today we began by crossing the Mackinack Bridge (nearly five miles long) and emerging in St. Ignace.

Castle Rock is a local landmark, and the Curio Shop below it has added a large Bunyan and Babe to lure folks in. But instead of standing, this Paul is seated--on what might be a block of ice or salt or possibly, a porcelain throne. If only he'd talked, like that one in the California redwoods, we might have learned just what he was doing...

Speaking of learning, we did pick up some more info on the peloskey stone (the state rock, you know) from a nice lady in St. Ignace, then discovered yet another Paul (without Babe) in Manistique, which claimed to be "Paul Bunyan's Home."! We've seen that phrase before in Bangor, Maine and Brainerd, Minnesota, so we're getting a wee bit skeptical.

We lunched at Deb's in Gladstone, with walleye that didn't disappoint, and some pistachio pie, which did. Not awful, just bland (and weirdly green.)

Then we ran north, to the shores of Lake Superior. And ran back to the van as quickly as we could, since IT'S COLD. We sang a few bars of "The Wreck of The Edmund Fitzgerald" and headed on towards Marquette, and a place called Lankenland. It may not be on your map, but it's showing up big on snowmobilers' charts up here.

Tom Lankenen is a welder who'd never even seen a sculpture park, but that hasn't stopped him from building his own drive-through art yard in the trees. Over 60 metal pieces of all kinds, some political, some cereberal, some just plain silly are scattered on the path. Tom couldn't really tell us why he did what he did, because he's on a job in Hawaii. But his stunt Tom (Gardner) drove up from Escanaba to help us understand why someone would do all this for no charge. I'm not sure we ever learned "why" but that's OK. We talked snowmobile smack with Tom2, and shivered happily as we passed dinosaur fisherman, old miners, spaceships, monuments to Marines and a corporate pig excreting on the average American. Is the sculptor full of himself and all puffed up? Not at all, Tom2 told us. In fact, just the opposite. He comes out with a leaf blower and clears new snow off the art when that's needed. That's what you call hands-on.

Music In the Van--Steve Forbert Sings Jimmy Rodgers, Joan Baez new CD, "Combustible" John Mayer

Don's Found $$ count--10 cents

the legs have it

2009-05-13T20:36:00.002-05:00

A true family business is hard to find these days. The Legs Inn is one, and it's an amazing place to boot. George Smolak's uncle Stan, also known as Chief White Cloud, started working on it soon after he arrived from Poland in 1913 (at the time it was part of Austria.) He was a man who could take elements of nature and create very cool furniture and distinctive decoration from them. His little bar and grill in Cross Village soon began to feature booths, tables and chairs he made, as well as tasty Polish fare and libations. The collision of Native American images and Eastern European traditions helps account for its striking originality. And as for the name, well, those white appliance legs on the roof made it easy to spot.

These days the Smolak kids, Mark and Chris, help make the Legs a growing concern--open only from mid-May to late October. There's a regular Sunday night blues band, and five secluded cabins for rent in the woods near Lake Michigan. Other than that, it's just a great off the beaten path roadhouse with pierogies and kielbasa and room after room of great folk art. When it's busy, "no one ever complains about the wait," George told us.

We worked our way out to the Legs after a slow morning in Cheboygan, where Main Street is undergoing major rehab work. It's so torn up that the best route to the coffee shop we wanted to visit was through a furniture store's "interior sidewalk." Walking amidst the workmen and machinery made the whole experience more than a little surreal. Kudos to State Street Coffee for brewing a darned good cup!

The van's starting to get awfully damn full, and stops like Seashell City a few miles down I-75 don't help at all. It's the place that promises a "man-eating clam" on the billboards. We weren't fooled, but that didn't preclude some awfully silly poses on the pirate ship out front, and more cheesy souvenir purchases. Don's pirate clock for $5 seems like a steal....

Music In the Van-- Norah Jones, "Blue Train" John Coltrane

Don's found $$ count--11 cents (no good stats since Mother's Day)

big fun in a small town

2009-05-12T20:44:00.002-05:00

When your day starts with you successfully tossing sneakers onto the branches of a shoe tree, you know it's all gonna be OK. That particular footwear-bearing specimen stands alongside a very busy US 131 a few miles north of Kalkaska, Michigan. Not only was there far more traffic whizzing by than we've seen at other shoe trees, this one had some unusual fruit, including a pair of waders way up high! The wind was whipping things around pretty briskly, and that's a cool thing.

Along this route, you start to notice that populous areas up here are few and far between. After finally finding a Starbucks in Gaylord (just off I-75) we ducked into Indian River for a peek at the Cross In the Woods and Nun Doll Museum!! The giant crucifixion is currently under wraps, waiting for money to refurbish it (kind of like that "building fund" that Don remembers from growing up Catholic) but the gift shop still has plenty of shrine-centric snow globes, keychains, mints, etc. And a patron saint of highway driving emblazoned on cards and medallions. We bought with conviction!

Our big stop today was a few miles to the east in Onaway. Not a very big place, but one that people passing through often remember because of the giant metal heads--George Washington, Lady Liberty and at various times, Atlas, a helmeted soldier and others that Tom Moran creates at his iron works on the edge of town. They're unveiled to the delight of everyone at the annual 4th of July Parade, and then auctioned off or sent to museums, collectors or civic organizations to be enjoyed by all. Tom had to attend a trade show in Chicago (his real job involves a lot of welding work for power plants and utility companies) but we had a great tour courtesy of Jill. Including some snooping around the edges of this year's parade project, super secret as it may be. We did a phone interview with Tom, who blanched at the notion of being an artist, while heartily endorsing the idea that whatever time and energy he puts into these things comes back around a hundredfold.

One side note--the guy hawking a giant loogie on the sidewalk in town needs to be stopped, before he does it again!

Music In the Van--Cat Stevens' Greatest Hits, "Washington Square Serenade" Steve Earle

Don's Found $$--would you believe just 1 cent?

dewey defeats open space!

2009-05-11T20:28:00.004-05:00

Traverse City sits on a pretty bay on Lake Michigan, and claims among other things to be the Cherry Capital. It baked the World's Largest Cherry Pie, some 28,00 pounds in a big steel pie pan back in 1988. Naturally, we had to see that, and toss some pie puns against the wall to see what would stick. We even bought a $1 Sara Lee at the bakery outlet store to pay our respects, and I gamely hauled the Big Ball out to see a genuine Guinness claimant.

Then it was off to Honor, a small town with its own still-functioning drive-in theatre--the Cherry Bowl. It's the real thing, with a great old screen and speaker poles that glow red in the dark (though we were there at noon), not to mention giant fiberglass hot dogs and chickens, even an old Corvair out front. The owners just opened a cafe and gift shop next door (souvenirs were purchased) and comped us a lunch, complete with peanut butter cheesecake that may have had a few serious calories in it...

Just a few miles further down Highway 31 we saw what was left of Don Crossman's roadside sculpture park. Don was written up in Weird Michigan a few years back, but died before the book came out. He was a farmer who just wanted to weld some metal animals, patriotic symbols and Biblical forms for his own amusement, and refused to sell them, because, well, then he wouldn't have them to enjoy!

Our real destination was only a little ways away, on Crystal Lake, where Dewey Blocksma has gradually filled his house and studio with a whole lotta art. Not just the pieces he makes, but works by other artists (like Joe McCuaig) he admires and collects. Dewey has an unusual trifecta in his past--as a child he lived in Amarillo, Grand Rapids and Pakistan! Because of his time overseas, he missed out on typical childhood toys, which may have prompted him to start building some of his own later in life. He left his career as an ER doc in 1980, and gave himself over to earning 95% less, but with far less stress. More than any one we've seen he incorporates sporting goods into his sculptures--softballs, catcher's mitts, tennis rackets... And he even joined us for a little catch in the yard. Dewey's Puzzle Heads are especially great, and lots of fun, but he's still a bit uneasy about being called "whimsical." We mean it in the best possible way.

Music In the Van--the new Dar Williams, "Love" The Beatles (at least until it started skipping)

Don's Found $$ count--17 cents (but he did discover two $20 bills at the Sara Lee store and turn them in . Right is right.)

some morels for mother's day

2009-05-10T21:20:00.002-05:00

Mike figures we've missed Mother's Day most of the last 13 years. We're usually out on the road just like we are now. We started MD '09 under sunny skies in Muskegon, which soon turned to cloudy, then rainy by the time we made Montague to play a little catch under the World's Largest weathervane (or so they claim.) There are several other contenders, including Maxie, the Big Goose back in Brunswick, MO. Naturally, some maritime wise-cracking was done during the spirited horseplay, not the least of which included our invention of Old Smelt, an aftershave for men that never really caught on.

Our GPS then took us on a lovely drive through forests and orchards to the gate outside of the legendary Shrine of the Pines in Baldwin. Not open til May 15, and nobody wanted to let us in on Mother's Day...

So we headed for Kaleva, where tour guide Jim did let us in and told us all he could about the Bottle House that the town embraces to this day. Pop bottler and builder John Mackinen constructed the sweet, tidy, symmetrical "happy home" in 1951 and died shortly after. He was a Finn, as were many of Kaleva's other citizens. Their heritage was celebrated in a series of colorful murals in the town's old gym, and more recently, with a metal grasshopper to honor St. Urho. That's the saint who drove the hoppers out of Finland, doncha know?

Turns out it's only about five miles from the Bottle House to Big Joe's. That's Joe McCuaig, the 6'6" painter/carver/morel mushroom hunter we met a few years back at Folk Fest in Atlanta.

His yard has some messages reminding "the paparazzy" to stay away, and a bottle tree to catch the light. Joe's mermaids, snake handlers and fish eating fish eating fish are some of the themes that seem to recur most often in his art. Getting "the previous occupant" out of the White House made Joe very happy, but he's already poking some fun at the stimulus package, and how little stimulation it brings the folks he knows. While wandering with Mike out back, Joe found a couple small morels that we left behind for he and his wife Sharon to cook as they pleased. Along with a Big Ball T-Shirt to "negotiate" over.

Music In the Van--Best of Sam Cooke, "All I Intended to Be" Emmylou Harris, "After the Goldrush" Neil Young

Don's Mother's Day Found $$--75 cents (viva Starbucks!) for a new total of $6.20.

sorry tom, I chose this shot of melissa

2009-05-09T19:03:00.002-05:00

Tom D. is the reason we stopped in Grand Rapids (well, East Grand Rapids technically) but the work he does these days is often done in collaboration with his lovely bride Melissa. And frankly, we've had enough pictures of men on here lately. Let's mix it up a little.

Tom's a Dutch Calvinist by birth and a socialist agnostic through years of practice, making art without any training, but steadfastly resisting the path to easy sales--i.e. doing the same thing over and over. His "vixens" for example are interesting to him lately, as are tin sculptures and some colorful "wraps" that he makes from duct tape and other pliable scraps. Sometimes he adds photos of Melissa in some "semi-erotic" pin-up poses to layers of text and weathered wood. Often, when he's hit the end of the line on an idea, he'll hand it over to her (or vice versa) and they'll discover a way to finish it up. They're even in a band together, though Tom's growing guitar collection (17) is a small bone of contention.

The daughters Duimstra, Ruby and Evee, peppered Don with good questions--"why's the camera so big?" and "what do you need all those microphones for?" The latter was all too pertinent, since recurring audio issues were the bane of our existence today. We also met their dog Larry, but failed to encounter Jessica the Hamster, probably due to our focus on those same audio problems.

Maybe they stemmed from the rain that fell upon us on the way over from Lansing, when we stopped to see a tiny church in Lake Odessa. Size-wise, it was just a couple of pews--roughly the same square footage as ones we've seen in Oklahoma and Arizona, but the lake view out the cross-shaped window in back was much nicer.

After our visit with the D's, we rolled around Grand Rapids a bit, eyeing the Sanctuary Folk Art Gallery on Division Street just minutes before closing time, and the Heartside Gallery a block or so down. Also some nice murals nearby, in a part of town that's got the art vibe going pretty strong.

Which left us with one task still on tap, Nunica's Stonehenge. Nunica is a small town to the west of G.R., with a half-size foam Henge (more solid looking than it sounds) in someone's very nicely manicured yard. No signs, and no signs of life either. Nor room to play catch. So "rock and fire" had to be nixed this time.

Music In the Van "Somewhere" Eva Cassidy, "Workingman's Cafe" Ray Davies

Don's $$ Count--44 cents today, plus 2 I missed last night=$5.46 for the trip so far.

lightning strikes twice in southern michigan

2009-05-08T17:41:00.003-05:00

OK, the day started a little shaky--when Don realized he couldn't find the CD's he'd brought into his hotel room last night. The search was fast, furious and finally fruitful. Mr. Murphy located them packed away in the camera bag, where eventually, they were bound to be found.

And the camera did get a workout today, in two different locations we only knew a little about prior to arrival.

And both were great! The first was McCourtie Park, outside Somerset, Michigan--named for the man whose estate contains fifteen photogenic bridges made in the trabaja rustico way we've seen in states much further south. Turns out Herb McC went to Texas, made a fortune in gas and oil, and while he was there met Dionicio Rodriguez, the art form's true master. When he got back to Michigan, a pair of Rodriguez disciples named Cardosa and Corona came to his place and worked (in secret, like Dionicio) to do their concrete magic. Muy photogenico!

After a frenzied lunch at the busiest Subway in all the land (noisiest too) we rolled into Lansing--a repeat visit, since we'd buzzed through briefly to see the Big Lug Nut back in 2000.

This time we wanted to dig deeper. Literally, at the Board of Water & Light Building, the water treatment plant known already for its art deco stylings. It was built as a WPA project in 1938, complete with murals, futuristic grillwork, and even some handles from the Olsmobiles that were made here then. Our guide, Mark, almost adjusted one he shouldn't have, which apparently would have altered Lansing's water supply for the worse. Whew!!!

But the seriously surreal part was yet to come, over in the deep, dank bowels of the plant. That's where a water worker named Charlie Hewes painted panels and murals around the pipes and plumbing he maintained decades ago. Popeye and a warship, local landmarks and poems about his fellow "narrowbacks" are still down there to prove, as we often say with this kind of work, "that he was here." We love it, and the fact that even in these post 9/11 times, TV Weasels like us can still be allowed to wander through and share what we find. Thanks, Lansing.

Music In the Van--"Michigan" Sufjain Stevens, "Together Through Life" (the new) Bob Dylan

Don's $$--It was a very good day, some 63 cents for a total so far of $5.00.

Note--We all did laundry today, and got that headcleaner we needed (for the camera, not Don)

milton's big dream

2009-05-07T21:06:00.002-05:00

Meeting Milton Mizenberger, Jr. makes a day special. It doesn't hurt when the day is a prototypical early May stunner. The sunny skies enhanced Milton's miraculous transformation of an old house in what was once a very battered part of Chicago's south side. And not only the 1883 era home, which he's rehabbed on the inside and out with parts that others have thrown away, but with art that also lines his yard and several lots nearby. Together, the whole notion is what he calls the Oakland Sculpture Park.

"You gotta dream big" he told us. "People pay attention when you do that." He spoke of the impact that he thinks art can have on communities. And his hope for an even bigger space someday, with a massive roof under which he can display lots more of it-- particularly from African-Americans who don't have many outlets for showing their work.

Milton's made it through thirteen years of really serious illness, and has come through it as positive as it seems a man could be. He's made his own little piece of "country in the city," with a fence and some greenery where he figures horses and cows would be right at home. And now, with his first bronze piece about to be dedicated in a park down the street, he's gone farther than anyone could have ever predicted.

From his rooftop, Milton's even got a good view of Lake Michigan, which we realized we hadn't really seen enough of. Once again, what a great day to do it--joining sunbathers and roller bladers, dogwalkers and folks who all seemed very concerned if we were "getting good shots." I'd say we were, but then again, I might just be dreaming big.

Music In the Van--"Soap and Water" Chuck Prophet, "Miracle of Love" Eleni Mandell, "Action Packed-Best of Jonathan Richman"

Don's Found $$ count--$4.58

Today's equipment issue(s)--Another cheap headset (mini-plugs suck) broken, HDV camera needs a head cleaning tape (the Radio Shack guy said "try Best Buy")

van the man solves yogurtgate (whew!)

2009-05-06T23:14:00.003-05:00

The Big Ball o' Tape came out to play at Intuit, Chicago's Center for Outsider and Intuitive Art, and among the folks on hand was Van DeLisle--one of only a handful of people in the world who've purchased ALL OUR DVDs! He and twenty or so others came out in the pouring rain to see our presentation, ably aided by Kelly Ludwig and her superb Detour Art photos of self-taught artists and environments. But Van didn't just come to hear us (wearing a Big Ball T-Shirt), he also answered our Facebook plea for yogurt, which the Holiday Inn Express hasn't offered at breakfast for not one, but the last two days. Criminy, they just built the place last week, why don't they have at least a wee bit of the creamy good stuff to make our morning brighter? So score 1 for VD on that!

And score 'em for Amanda Curtis at Intuit who also hooked us up with David Philpot, a carver of wooden staffs that dazzle the eye. David told us he's guided by a power he can't explain, one that wouldn't let him refuse the gift of an ability to carve and create some truly amazing pieces, even though he was a slow learner! His skills have sent him to foreign lands and into swanky Chicago affairs--not bad for a cab driver and "illiterate" as he modestly refers to himself.

Before our trek into the city, we'd started the day (unless you count the yogurt fiasco and a Starbucks employee burning herself) with a trip out to Lyons. That's where 82 year old Stanley Szwarc blew us away with his boxes and crosses--shiny metalworks that start as scraps from nearby plants and emerge gleaming with beauty. Stanley came here from Poland in 1977, an accountant and musician with no welding skills whatsoever. He figured it out, figured how to channel his ideas into something others call art (but not him) and have fun in the process. He's up most days by 3AM, working for at least four or five hours, and we think that says an awful lot about how this art really does do a body good!

fore and aft, picks and a picker

2009-05-05T21:02:00.004-05:00

We're talking standard issue li'l wooden toothpicks, from which Wayne Kusy (who also plays guitar in a band called Heavy Mental) has fashioned detailed replicas of sailing ships like the Cutty Sark and Queen Mary. His fifteen foot Lusitania (193,000 toothpicks) is still on display at AVAM in Baltimore. He calls ships like these "castles on the water" and pours hours, days, and ultimately years into forming them (in sections) in his third floor apartment not too far from Wrigley Field.

Wayne admits that in many cases, he's building models from someone else's model, since older boats aren't that pictorially well-preserved. But getting the intricacies right matters to him. Over the years, he's perfected his construction methods, gluing together hulls so strong you can set a bowling ball atop them. But that doesn't mean the boats travel without some damage. Each time one goes off to a show, picks do tend to tumble. That's inevitable, he figures, when you're making things that you aren't supposed to be able to make in the first place.

Speaking of Wrigley, we did stop by the grand old ballpark just after the Cubbies had lost again, tossed back a Goose River brew or two and stuffed down perhaps the best nachos ever. This, along with a couple of other iconic Windy City sights on our tour of the town where Don lived from '76 to '79--those wigged-out weinies atop the Super Dawg Drive-In on North Milwaukee, and the Leaning Tower of Niles, for which we brought out the Big Ball. And the little ball too, for some vigorous catch at this repurposed old water tower (half Pisa size) in front of the Niles YMCA. The sign said "no skating or bicycling" but it didn't mention throwing softballs into the fountains. No pepper(oni), indeed!

Music In the Van--"Tupelo Honey" Van Morrison

Don's found $$ total--not sure, but the drunks around Wrigley seemed to be leaving a pretty good trail of coinage. I'll know more tomorrow,...

a man who knows his parts

2009-04-24T18:29:00.002-05:00

The man is Jack Barker. At his shop in Essex, Illinois, some six miles from Route 66, he churns out a whole lotta fun, using scrap metal that he welds, hammers and bends into animal, human and fanciful forms as they occur to him. And watching Jack for awhile in his shop, it's easy to see how much occurs, since he pretty much gets one idea after another. The man has tools, and he knows how to use them!

In the beginning, he told us, his friends were afraid to be seen helping him haul the big things around. Fifteen years later, people around town have gotten used to seeing the yard continue to grow. We particularly liked Jack's way with metal shavings from nearby factories, which he's incorporated cleverly into beards, hair and the fur on buffalo and camels. It's unlike anything we've seen before.

He, on the other hand, had never seen anything quite like the Big Ball o' Tape, which toured the yard in its Radio Flyer, before stopping at an Indian princess' feet for a great photo op.

Speaking of ops, the day started back near Kankakee, so we could gawk at a big Lincoln. Not a Muffler Man, but a huge fiberglass Abe holding a sign that gets changed when the owner has something to share. Today it was bashing the bailout. Tough shooting conditions for Don, what with I-57 non side, a fence on another, and mud all around, but as usual, we got more than we bargained for. The owner pointed us out back, where an ice cream cone toting Lincoln was down for the count. Hot dogs in his pocket too. Or was he just glad to see us?

Music In the Van--Elvis Costello's Starbucks Artist's Choice Compilation, Bettye Lavette "I've Got My Own Hell to Raise"

Don's Found Money Count--$3.96!!!

Oh, and we started the day on a really amazing note, circling a baby-poop brown Gremlin (still functional) in the coffee shop parking lot... always a good omen.

down in the basement with bart

2009-04-23T23:03:00.002-05:00

That would be Bart Powers, from Munster, Indiana. Turns out he also knows quite a bit about The Munsters, old cars, architecture, music and a great many other topics. But he suffers from agoraphobia and depression, so he doesn't get out all that much. Bart works fairly obsessively down in the basement, starting with pencil sketches, and then painting in a way that brings to mind M.C. Escher, graphic novels and album art from the 70s. Some of his more detailed pencil and marker work might keep a school supply store in business!

He admitted our impending arrival had kept him awake all night, but he was surprised to see we were "professionals, not 20 year olds with a VHS camcorder." He seemed to enjoy Don's witty repartee more than your average bear--they both love guitars and Allen Sherman, and they talked Corvairs a fair bit as well. We all riffed on some TV and movie trivia, though I fell flat on the lead in "Vanishing Point," which I later remembered to be Barry Newman of early 70's "Petrocelli" fame....

Bart's house is about two blocks from the Illinois state line, which tells you we crossed most all of northern Indiana to get there from Toledo. Most surprising was the thriving Amish town of

shipshewana, which we saw thanks to a detour on US 20. We also stopped for lunch in downtown South Bend. The Thai food was fine, but the trip down an old elevator to a bathroom straight out of a David Lynch movie was even better.

Oh, the other main attraction today was Goshen. At first Mike had it confused with Gomorrah, but with some lifeline help, he did confirm it had biblical roots. Something about Moses and the Exodus' starting point. The one in Indiana has a claim of its own--a bulletproof guard tower on the courthouse square that was built to protect the Maple City from gangsters back in the day. Apparently, it worked, because no banks were robbed, and the courthouse lawn is well-tended and just right for playing some catch.

]Music In the Van--"Heading West"(we were), a Starbucks Compilation with Pattty Griffin, Jakob Dylan, Aimee Mann, etc., "St. Mary of the Pines" James McMurtry, "Trouble" Ray Lemonmtagne

Don's up to $3.16, and he also picked up some really good beer from the Great Lakes Brewery, "Edmund Fitzgerald Porter" (yum)

A rabbi, a sculpture, & some Weasels walk into a bar

2009-04-22T19:20:00.002-05:00

How cold was it this morning in Cleveland? Cold enough that it was snowing when we left the coffee shop and opted not to go see the shoe tree in a cemetery that we'd read about. We're just not that tough! So we took our act indoors to the home of Rabbi Sidney Rackoff, an 89 year old who took up sculpting twenty five years ago. Sidney greeted us warmly and invited us in, though his 91 year-old wife Regina wasn't quite so sure. "How do I know you're not going to kidnap him," she asked. We volunteered to show her how cramped the van is, and convinced her that we may be a pain, but we're hardly a threat.

Sid's made some fabulous metal pieces over the years, some quite large. He displays them in front of office buildings and schools, gas stations and gardens. People see them that way, he figures, many more than would see them in museums or high dollar galleries. It's not about the money, clearly. It's the joy of making and sharing his art, the person to person experience he's had with a wide swath of Clevelanders who in one way or another have helped make it possible. Regina apologized profusely for not feeding us, but the time was needed for chasing the two of them all over town to see his handiwork. Sure enough, as promised, people at the sculpture sites came out to hug the artist and say hello. Very cool, very good for the soul.

We left Cleveland thinking that overall the town's had a bad rap. There's some amazing architecture, cool, funky neighborhoods and nowhere near the desolation of say, Detroit. Our route out took us down the Ohio Turnpike to Toledo. Destination Tony Packo's. If that sounds familiar, it might make you a Mash-a-phile. Corporal Klinger mentioned it on the show eight different times. That's fine, but the lure for us can be attributed to Burt Reynolds. Back in the late 70's he signed a Packo hot dog bun, and launched a tradition. Celebs as varied as Jerry Seinfeld, Bob Dole, Frank Zappa and Joan Rivers (along with 500 or so others) have inked one of the fake buns that decorate the old restaurant's walls. Apparently their standards of "celebrity" are slipping. Caleb, the most agreeable manager ever, offered to let us into the club too. He's now the proud owner of a Big Ball T-Shirt, and we took home plenty of Packo-bilia...

Music In the Van--John Hiatt's new one (can't remember the name)

Don had a nice run finding money in inner-city Cleveland, but he never told me eactly how much. Must be getting close to $3.00 for the trip by now.

the other michelangelo

2009-04-21T21:02:00.002-05:00

This one's last name is Lovelace. He paints Cleveland, scenes of the life on its streets, and the aspirations he has for it. Michelangelo picked up the name early in life because he was always drawing stuff, even though no one around him thought art was a real option. Yes, he did attend the Cleveland Art Institute for a year, but he couldn't afford to finish. He met the Rev. Albert Wagner, Cleveland's most notable outsider artist, and found the inspiration he needed.

Michelangelo's subject matter includes everything from P-Funk concerts drive-n movies to cdrugs, crime, city politics and the Obamas. We managed to get everything we needed done with him just in time for the big Cavs-Pistons playoff game, which he and the rest of the city were anxiously awaiting.

That game was being played downtown, just a few blocks from the House of Blues. We'd weaseled our way in there earlier in the day to look over the art. Like all the HOBs, it's decor includes lots of work by people we've met over the years--Jimmie Sudduth, Ab the Flagman, Missionary Mary Proctor, the Baltimore Glassman, et al. Their collection also includes some top-notch paintings by Peter Wood, a local boy who's now based in California. Tracey Glenn, the lady who handles tours and classes let us wander at will and pepper her with stupid questions. For that, and the inadvertent groping she endured due to her "microphone problems," Tracy definitely earned her commemorative shirt.

We had entered Cleveland via Lakeshore Drive, where the houses of what we presumed to be "Robber Baron Row" left us more than a little slack-jawed. As the rain alternately stopped and started all day, we did actually manage to catch a glimpse of Lake Erie with sunshine on it. Then it rained some more, much as it had earlier in a beautiful stretch of Concord Township. That's where we found, despite some bad directions from a website we won't name, a Flintstone House nestled back in the woods. If a car with no floor had been parked in the garage, we wouldn't have been too surprised. No Rubble on this one, it was Bedrock's best, to be sure.

Music In the van--"Days Like This" Van Morrison, "Bootleg Sesssions, Vol.8" Bob Dylan

Don's found $2.61 to date, and still can't figure out what weird stuff was going on with the camera today. We just hope it doesn't do it tomorrow!

a drizzled wizard is still a good thing

2009-04-20T20:17:00.003-05:00

PR Miller doesn't watch TV, doesn't even have one. The so called "Junk Man of Akron" figures he can find entertainment anywhere he wants to, so why depend on others to shape his pleasure centers. I'm kind of paraphrasing there, but this guy throws out lots and lots of of free-form verbiage, with considerable theatrics. so there are plenty of phrases to para.

And lots of products that he brings forth from the things others throw away. He's trying to get us to realize that the earth has just about had enough! So if his art can help get the message through to kids that we're choking the planet, then his "Grizzled Wizard" persona is time well spent. We visited him first at his studio across from the Firestone HQ near downtown, and then at his equally art=packed house, where the yard yielded more of the colorful giant scrapflowers for which he is known. Also saw a cool frog he'd made at a library nearby...

You'll notice a certain wet, gray shade to the photo, which I snapped between downpours on this chilly AM. Mike had sung a stanza or two of "Rainy Days and Mondays" to get us going (and scare us a bit) before we gave ourselves over to the PR Experience. It came complete with a lunch trip to Luigi's, an Akron institution which features a giant pizza the Junkman made in 2003 on the outside. Luigi's is also known for a 1949 Mechanical Bandbox above the front door that comes to life when the jukebox is played. Or did anyway, until it jammed up, and awaits the repairman. We ate heartily nonetheless, gazed up at the nearby building where Chrissie Hynde calls home, and even stood in the crotch of Akron's Y Bridge while discussing what exactly a "hectare" is. (10,000 square meters, it turns out.)

Then it rained like heck and we called it a day.

Music In the Van--"Sugar Mountain Live (1969)" Neil Young

can you get a merit badge for this?

2009-04-19T17:35:00.003-05:00

Rain. That's what they've been telling us is on its way with a vengeance. So we awoke with a mission. Shoot stuff before we wouldn't be able to. After yesterday's "issues" (and thankfully, we did find a place to imbibe last night) the realities of guerilla TV-making were rearing their ugly head.

After a Starbucks stop we resumed the Appalachian road regimen-- hills and curves and potentially stomach churning drops. Hey, no problem. We made it without incident to the Miners' Memorial Park near Reinsersville, Ohio, better known as the home of the Big Bucket. A 13 ton coal bucket from a machine called the Big Muskie. (Yes, it even put Kansas' Big Brutus to shame.) That's it above, being occupied by a Boy Scout Troop and the Big Ball. We played some catch inside it, proving once again we're only ready for "the minors."

Lunch was taken in Cambridge, a town we realized we'd stayed in 6 years ago. We didn't stop at the Hopalong Cassady Museum then, and we didn't this time either. Sorry, Hop. But Ruby Tuesday's did have a vegie burger on the menu and a right plentiful salad bar. A new option for eating has arrived!

On the way up to Wilmot, we remembered to pimp the good folks at Hampton Inns, who've been doing some work to restore old roadside attractions. Why not help us a little bit too? One of the places where they'd assisted was the World's Largest Cuckoo clock at Grandma's Alpine Inn. We were primed for some oversized animated timekeeping, but when we finally found it, the giant parking lot was empty and a "for lease" sign told the tale. Eventually, someone came around to ask what we were doing, but they clearly didn't really care to talk about it, except to say we could "tell PBS it's for sale." Wonder how the Hampton folks feel about that...

Still no rain, though, so we trudged on to Canton, took a spin (actually two) past the Pro Football Hall of Fame ("underwhelming" was the term we could all live with) and flew on to North Canton. We'd seen a tip about a UFO shaped office building, and sure enough, a saucer seemed to have landed atop a bug eyed base with very few markings except a "psychological services" sign on the back. Kinda suspicious don't you think? We didn't think too long, although Don did point out that if they wanted to turn it into a revolving restaurant someday, that might be an option...

Music In the Van--Cat Power, "Dirt Farmer" Levon Helm, "Madman Across the Water" Elton John, "Nashville" Solomon Burke

Don's money count (apparently I've missed several key finds) --$2.65

oy ve!

2009-04-18T21:53:00.002-05:00

This cheery, upbeat image doesn't completely encapsulate our entire day. But it is a good one, at which we invoked our pal Erika, who we know has seen The World's Largest Picnic Basket in Newark, Ohio and put it into the World's Largest Collection of the World's Smallest Versions of the World's Largest Things. It is the working headquarters of the Longaberger Basket Company, which apparently sells enough of 'em to build this behemoth.

OK, now the bad parts. The first came much earlier, outside Dayton, when Don realized he'd left his personal pillow at the hotel. His woobie! And even though they're mailing it to his home, that means another week of possible sleep impaction (psi) and all the attendant issues.

Actually though, that was just a warmup for the flat tire our swanky Town & Country developed in the wilds of southeast Ohio. And no manual to explain where the spare was or just how to deal with it... Points to Mike for his mechanical aptitude, and a nice guy in Deaverton who pronounced us "SOL" before trying his best to help make some repairs.

B.F. (before the flat) we'd been hanging out near Crooksville with The Old Man of the Mountain aka Rick Crooks. He's a sculptor, making animal forms (some real, some not) from salvaged parts that a country guy like him can easily come across. The twist is that Rick's blind, has been since an accident at age 16. His wife Patty told us he's the most patient person she's ever known, a guy who thinks he can do anything, and usually does. His mom Alma had contacted us, which we believe may be the first time that tactic has been successfully used on RVRR!

Rolling along on a temporary tire we'd decided to trust, we made it to Carbon Hill, and Paul Johnson's Pencil Sharpener Museum. The count is currently 3, 283, ands as he adamantly tells you, "there are no duplicates." Metal, plastic, stately, silly, Presidents, superheroes, cars and trains-- Paul's collection fills the walls of a specially built structure that this 84-year old veteran of WWII says has helped keep him alive. His quest now is for 4,000.

After a Wal-Mart intervention that more or less got the van road-ready again, we took off for Athens. More bad news--the hotel's full of teenagers at a basketball tournament (turn up that noise machine, Don) and the Bennigan's next door had lost their liquor license!

Pray for us.

Music In the Van--"1,000 Years of Popular Music" Richard Thompson

Finding money today got lost in the day's traumas, but I think Don picked up 12 cents while shooting the Big Basket

when balls collide

2009-04-17T20:35:00.002-05:00

Let me explain the picture above. It's proof of our day-ending visit to the World's Largest Ball of Paint in Alexandria, Indiana. Mike Carmichael has been painting layer after layer over a baseball core since 1985, some 2,300 layers, including the Jayhawk blue one we helped with. We chose the color in part because of Mike's un-nerving resemblance to former KU b-ball coach Roy Williams. He, however, is more into Sherman-Williams, dadgummit.

Mike's not just a painter, he's also a numbers guy, who tracks all the different colors each layer has been, and all its vital stats. The appearance of our Big Ball o' Tape inspired him to do some measuring on it as well. Ours is lots smaller.

Prior to the Ball-A-Rama in Alexandria, we'd spent some time in Warrington with Billy Wilcox.

The topic was wire, which Billy incorporates into animal forms that can be seen around the area, in places like Greenville and Knightstown (where all the restaurants seem to have died). He showed us around the remains of what had once been a sculpture garden out back-- until his partner left him holding the bag on a whole lot of bills. The conversation covered everything from Billy's days as a Boy Scout to the importance of keeping your tetanus shots current. I took home a wire "r" and Don got a nifty small fish. Mike weaseled something too, but I'm not sure just what.

The worst part of the day was a soul-deadening stretch of suburban driving on US 31 south of Indianapolis, followed immediately by more of the same on US 40. Genericana at its most tedious, but at least we'd seen Big John before that. BJ is, or so the store that owns it proclaims, the World's Largest Rocking Chair. We played our first catch of the trip in its shadow, a nice spot for as Don put it, "sunny and chair."

Music In the Van--Eric Clapton & JJ Cale "Road to Escondido", Golden Smog "Pecan Pie"

Don found only 2 cents today, ironically, I noticed a quarter in the driveway at the Ball o Paint's place.

Geodes, Bakers and a little French Lick

2009-04-16T20:26:00.002-05:00

That old Indiana magic started again at the Providence Grotto in Jasper, with the charming and chatty Father Angelo showing us what his predecessor Father Phillip had done with rocks for "the glory of God." We've seen grottos in many shapes and sizes, but none where geodes prevailed the way they do here. No blueprint or even sketches, just a twenty year explosion of building walls, planters, fountains and shrines that sprawl across the grounds of this Catholic-run nursing home. Father Angelo mentioned that he's hoping someone might come along to maintain and watch over the place, much as he did fourteen years ago. With health care costs the way they are now, Don said to add his name to the waiting list, he might be just the guy for the job.

Jasper is only half an hour away from French Lick, the home of basketball's Larry Bird, so we decided that we'd head there for lunch. While we were admiring a Romanesque bust of #33 across from the big new casino, a guy in a black pickup gave us 4 copies of the 2004 French Lick High basketball yearbook. We tried to give 3 of them back, but he said he had thousands, so what could we do? Eat large sandwiches at a place on Brick Street...

Last stop of the day, Smithville--where The Big Ball's arrival was being anxiously awaited by John and Cheryl Baker, owners of an attraction called Baker's Haunted Train. John started it all in 1976 by purchasing not one, but two small train stations, then bought a few railroad cars to hold his very own railroad museum. He, however ran afoul of Bloomington's zoning folks, and "pinheads" on the planning commission. The legal battles have taken their toll, so scaring people in the train cars and mazes around them has been their main moneymaking mode for the last few years. We particularly liked the Petticoat Junction-esque water tower/swimming pool out back. And the fact that these people actually watch our show!

Music In the Van--Bob Dylan's Starbucks "Artist Choice", Herbie Hancock "Rivers (The Joni Sessions") And no, Don didn't find near as much change today... details tomorrow.

getting back to the erie canal

2009-04-15T19:25:00.009-05:00

That guy with the heads on the bench is Kevin Titzer, an Evansville native who makes some pretty great stuff in the workshop his grandfather built, using hand tools, lots of tiny nails and a dark sense of humor. Most of the materials come from the nearby Ohio River, at a spot where things wash up for him to bring home and recycle. The heads he then makes might strike some (not us) as disturbing. Ticks, bees and stigmata were some of the themes in the ones we saw here. Originally, he told us, he felt strange making art when most of his relatives lived blue-collar lives, but he's come to see that it's just another way of working with your hands.

Kevin and his girlfriend MJ were terrific hosts, pouring strong coffee, and serving up pie that she made from an old family recipe. Though we meant to bring a dessert of our own (as seen here yesterday) we had to admit that it never quite made it. When all this gets to TV, perhaps you'll see why.

Much of the time today was spent reliving Don's previous trip to the Evansville area--in 1972 when he attended the ill-fated Erie Canal Soda Pop Festival . It was supposed to be the Midwestern Woodstock, but with 300,000 people and 2 port-a-potties, things didn't go so well. The crowd eventually burned down the stage, though Don was gone by then.

In his honor, we drove down some of the same roads near the Wabash River, including one that took us to the charming little town of New Harmony. Supposedly the Archangel Gabriel left a footprint there in 1838, but it's not on public display anymore. Not one, but two utopian communities failed there, though it's still picturesque as all get out.

Our last stop of the day was north of Evansville, in the tiny town of Buckskin, home to the Loneliest Museum in America. That's what someone called James Henager's uh, somewhat random collection of Memories & Nostalgia. Sadly, he had no Erie Canal Fest souvenirs, but there was a Brewer & Shipley 8 track tape, a scary Smokey the Bear TV clip, and lots of Roy Rogers, Hopalong Cassady and other western movie memorabilia. Also, things from the baseball film, "A League of Their Own". His display of old automotive oil filters didn't leave us breathless, but we agree that history shouldn't be stuffy, and since he's put it together upstairs from his cabinet shop on virtually no budget at all, why complain? And Don's $2 in the donation box may be the first such bill the museum's yet seen.

No music in the van today, just stories about who Don saw at the festival-- basically it was Cheech & Chong, Ravi Shankar & Pure Prairie League (separately, not together.) And eating some Dinty Moore Beef Stew. He wasn't a vegetarian then. Oh, and another fine change-finding day--75 cents behind the newspaper rack!

here's how it all begins

2009-04-14T21:19:00.005-05:00

Pretty provocative, huh? And really pretty vague. But tomorrow, when our newest adventures in TV Weaseldom actually begin, it will all start to make sense. Or not.

Big news, so far--Don found 76 cents in a Starbucks chair! And our swanky Town & Country van (thanks to Jake at Avis) has back windows that actually roll down. With new HD cameras and just enough knowledge to be dangerous, Indiana here we come.

Music in the van (besides some Heep on XM radio)

Randy Newman "Harps and Angels", Neko Case "Middle Cyclone,"

Alejandro Escovedo Tribute "Por Vida"

one of those cinderella days

2008-05-22T23:05:00.007-05:00

Theresa Disney was waiting patiently for us all day in St. Louis, before we finally worked our way to her and the fabulous art she makes. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

The day started with gray skies and rainy streets in Jefferson City, though we did manage to snag some Starbucks without a lightning strike. That was a positive development. And finding Chris Akers at his barbershop in Madison, MO near Moberly was another. Chris cuts hair, like any small town barber. But he also plays music, repairs instruments and gives guitar lessons onsite as well. He's a motormouth with a hearty laugh and an uncanny knack for giving farm folk what they need in the way of grooming. Make that for giving TV Weasels what they need. For just ten bucks I'm sporting an Akers do myself, and pretty darned happy about it. I forgot to get a receipt, so I guess this one's on me!

Along the way toward St. Lou, we sought out (and found with sketchy instructions) a yard full of metal dinosaurs northeast of Centralia. However, the combination of wet grass, no shoulder whatsoever and gnawing hunger made this one a very short stop. We may regret it later.

The rain kept ebbing and flowing, and even looked for a moment like it might wash us out completely in Wright City. But the gods were with us, allowing a good look at what's recently happened to Elvis. You may recall that the Graceland-defying Elvis Is Alive Museum has stood alongside I-70 there for many years. Not any more. Now the big figure of the King is carrying a cross, and the sign says something about Baptist missions! His momma might have been proud, but the rest of us are pretty shook up.

The traffic migraine that is St. Louis wasn't as brutal as usual, so we were only half an hour late to Ms. Disney's house on the Hill. Well, not so much a house as an old dry cleaners that's filled to the gills with art. Angels and devils play a big part in Theresa's work (she's built them into an amazing chess set among other things) but the main message seems to be "just create." It gives her a reason to get up everyday, find raw materials in neighborhood dumpsters, and figure out ways to make something that often calls for new adventuresin problem-solving.

The chance to wander about in Theresa's "private" spaces, the ones that no one usually sees was really quite an honor. And time-consuming too, since almost everything in them was photo worthy! If it was, as she put it, a "Cinderella Day" for her, we too had a truly fine time pretending to be Three Princes Charming.

hair and there without a care

2008-05-21T22:38:00.006-05:00

What are we doing with these cosmetologists in training?

As much as we can, of course. They're taking a break from studies at the Independence School of Cosmetology, which also serves as the headquarters of Leila's Hair Museum. That's her on the right. She's "beyond obsessed with hair" she told us. Back in 1956 she bought her first hair wreath. Now the walls are filled with examples of this obscure Victorian era practice of memorializing loved ones with hair art. Using their actual hair, which some folks think is a bit creepy. But not Leila.

It's a one-of-a-kind history lesson, a tribute to the types of work that women were allowed to pursue in those days, and a way for Leila to spend a whole lotta money on e-bay. She's got hair from the stars too--Elvis, Marilyn Monroe, Alexander Hamilton & Aaron Burr, Ronald Reagan's on the way... as is (you heard it hear first) Mary, the Mother of Jesus! Like Don told her, "you're gonna need a bigger parking lot."

From Independence, we headed south, then east to follow up on a couple of viewer tips, the first one about some yard art near Holden. And indeed, a few sizable sculptures are standing in what the sign calls the Holden Art Yard, which also claimed to be closed. But since the work was outside and easy to see, we decided it was still open, for a few minutes anyway.

Our other investigation took us to Sedalia. We'd heard that a TV Repair Shop there had "a lot of bird houses out back." We're not sure what constitutes a whole lot of purple martin houses, but we've been to Griggsville, Illinois, and this sir, is no Griggsville. But that's OK, while in Sedalia we were able to verify that the Wheel Drive-In, forced out of its long-time location for highway improvements, is now up and running a mile or so south. Peanut butter slathered on a burger...I called it "an acquired taste" 12 years ago. I think that still fits.

Even with my belly full of guber, we made tracks for Tipton, to play catch in the shadow of the World's Largest 8 Ball, which once served as the water tower for the Fisher Pool Table Co.

Sure it was a stretch, but I still think my mention of former Royal Tom Poquette was the best billiards/baseball link of the day. Think about it...

As dark clouds gathered, we wondered if we might get rained out at Boathenge. But the skies cleared nicely as we reached Cooper's Landing on the Missouri River. It's a stop on the Katy Trail between Rocheport and Jeff City. A fellow named Catfish who helped erect the Henge said it could be explained as "beer, backhoes and boats" coming together. We admired its eloquent self, and the 3D painting of it made by 82 year old Columbia folk artist Rex Bandy. Rex wants more color in the world, and paints accordingly. He also shared some useful tips on picking up women in grocery stores, laundromats and pool halls. We took a turn on some borrowed bikes, then chased it all with Thai food from Chim's at the Landing. All true, I swear, but don't ask me about Sparky, the grumpy guy on the houseboat where some equally tasty music was being made. I just might tell you.

so close, so cool

2008-05-20T22:11:00.005-05:00

So here's what happens when we start to shoot a "Missouri" episode to accompany last fall's "Kansas" show. We get about 6 blocks from the station and stumble onto a backyard garden that's growing in all kinds of ways. Laurie and Linda are urban pioneers living in an old porn store on Troost ("old guys with gold chains still pull up occasionally"), growing tomatoes, potatoes, corn and even cotton. Did we mention the chickens? And Bighead, the lovely, slobbering mastiff of the house?

From an art standpoint, the sizable walls made from discarded pallets, accented with blue bottle windows, and old letters from the Osco in Westport are the most engaging. Reuse is rampant here at what we called the "Or-house" thanks to frequent visits to the Recycling center, or as the ladies called it "the trash exchange."

Our impromptu stop made us late for lunch at Waldo Pizza, which some viewers may recall as the home of the World's Only Memorial Restroom. The J. Stephen O'Laughlin Memorial Restroom is also the employee bathroom at the WP, and we toured it some years back while Mr. O was living (and running for mayor in San Diego.) He's back, and working again at the 'ol pizza joint-- sporting a jazzy new mullet at that, the better to get in touch with his "inner 816." We all squeezed in to admire his clever self-tribute, and watched him get schooled in some rock paper scissors action back in the kitchen.

Joel was appropriately excited about meetingThe Big Ball, which was about to see one of its spiritual cousins up in Weston. Mike took us up the scenic way through his old Parkville haunts, and for a brief recreational stretch we soaked up some laid-back Weston vibe. Not much going on in the mid-afternoon, until we rolled up to O'Malley's. The old brewery is getting a major facelift, and here's the best thing of all. They "found" The World's Largest Ball of String (not twine) which had been sitting in a crowded storeroom since the late 70s. Finley Stephens wound it (quite roundly) and got Guinness' blessing. No easy task! Then it sat forgotten for decades. Kudos to the Corey and the O'Malley guys for getting it where folks can see and touch greatness.

And thanks for the Irish Ales!

yes there is a mountain

2008-05-08T23:11:00.008-05:00

Did you know that Winnemucca has more Basque restaurants per capita than any town in the country? And the Buckaroo Hall of Fame too, whatever that is. But we were spending the night there because of its proximity to an outsider art site that we've ogled from afar for years and years--Rolling Thunder Mountain just off I-80 in Imlay, Nevada.

Chief Rolling Thunder started life as Frank Van Zandt, a youth pastor, forest ranger and law enforcement professional, who started building his monument to the Native American spirit in 1968. The core of what seems to me to be a cross between The Garden of Eden, Nittwit Ridge and the Coral Castle began with a small trailer, around which Thunder (as he preferred to be called) added rocks and concrete, bottles and statuary. Its central tower with the eagle on top rises up some five or six stories above the ground-- the whole thing his son Dan estimates covering perhaps 4000 square feet.

Dan says that he'd go away for a couple of months during his dad's prime, and return to find whole new sections of the house, which also served as a kind of museum. Not so much artifacts displayed within, but by the structure itself, which he said was guided by "the great spirit." Thunder mostly worked alone, or with the assistance of hippie types who would stop by to see what the heck was going on. And Dan remembers, as much as his father liked to tell stories, he was always on the move, finding rocks and new pieces to add to his "monument."

Neither Van Zandt could be considered much of a "permit" type, so even though the property's marked as a State Historic Site, that's about the extent of governmental help. Dan lives in California, and does what he can to shore up the most "at risk" parts of this amazing construction, but it's a daunting task. The many "no trespassing" signs are designed to keep people from crawling around it, while still making it possible to view.

Dan recalls that given the choice his dad would probably pick concrete over groceries, and ironically, that's the business he's in now. But he says he still occasionally hears from some of those aging flower children that often populated the place, and from Native Americans who appreciate the passion that Thunder put into his mountain. We do too. Big time.

And we appreciate that our van is now heading back towards home base, eerily on schedule. We've been blessed with only one slight rain delay, and considering what's been rattling Reno lately, no earthquakes. Now we head back, and see if any of it actually was recorded...

Music In the Van--REM "Accelerate", Bob Dylan "Modern Times", Sufjain Stevens Come On Feel the Illinois"

gettin' bugged at dooby's

2008-05-07T23:26:00.005-05:00

All right, first things first. This morning, while Don and I snoozed, Mike "I'm up at 6" Murphy took the van and got it washed. And we didn't notice. We're bad men, and we regret it.

On our awakening we drove that clean machine to Reno, saw a giant spider on a roof, drove downtown through its gaming hub, and learned you can't warm your coffee in gas stations' microwaves--"it's a health hazard." Speaking of such, we also passed by Sierra Sid's Casino & Truckstop in nearby Sparks, where they have some of Elvis' guns and jewelry on display. Maybe even the infamous gun that shot out the TV, but we're not sure. We didn't really stick around to find out.

The big event today was well north of Reno, on a scenic, isolated road that took us past a town called Nixon, which spurred a certain camera guy to new heights. The people at the general store wondered why we were taking so many pictures, but really, how could we resist?

Our destination, Gerlach is best known these days as home base for the Burning Man festival. In case you don't know, it attracts some 50,000 people to the Black Rock desert each Labor Day weekend. Art cars, impromptu creations, music and revelry (and not so much clothing) are its staples. And Matthew Ebert is one of the folks who helps make it happen. He's also the guy who took us out to Guru Lane, a "drive through art show" a few miles outside of town.

The guru in question was a guy named Dewayne Williams, whose other moniker was "Dooby."

And yes, that's how he got his name. This ex-Marine with a liberal bent would carve sayings and pithy wisdom into rocks that he sprinkled along a path that runs a mile or so. Along the way, he also built installations, like an Elvis shrine, a womanly Aphrodite, and the Dooobyvision TV studio we're posed in front of. It's really impressive, and surprisingly well-preserved (in part thanks to Matthew and his volunteers) but the bugs are something else! Apparently, the no-seeums start swarming just about now, and we were the perfect target for them. At least, unlike some critters, the pain from their bites is short-lived. Unless malaria or something else sets in, we're ready for our big finale tomorrow, Rolling Thunder Mountain, one of those "grandaddy" sites we've heard about for years.

Music In the Van--Bruce Springsteen "Magic Town", Richard Thompson ""Live, the Chrono Show", Ringo Starr Liverpool"

Correction--The highest gas price from the other day was only supposed to be $4.69 for diesel, not $4.99 (though just give it time)

lotsa drivin' and nobody's cryin'

2008-05-06T23:15:00.003-05:00

The El Portal Motel in Beatty, NV isn't much on amenities--no clocks among other things! But we all managed to get up on time and start the day at Eddie's Place, which calls itself The World's Most Beautiful Gas Station. And it does have some pretty nice brickwork, roses and flowering shrubs to ease the stench of high gas prices! Also lots of snacks and candies not found in your normal convenience store. Wasabi peas and sour cherry gummies. Yum!

Beatty's on US95, a road that's lined with casinos and bordellos, none of which got any of your public TV dollars. Our destination was Goldfield, another of those mining towns that at one time was the largest city in Nevada. Til the gold ran out, and everyone left, leaving behind several crumbling bottle houses, and a few grand old buildings that we've seen in movies like "Vanishing Point" and "Cherry 2000." Really, some of us have seen those, though no one saw "Butterfly" with Orson Welles and Pia Zadora, which also shot some of its scenes here.

A folk artist and art car owner named Slim Sirnes also lived in Goldfield until his death a few years ago at age 75. His wife Carol welcomed us in to see to what's left of his sculptures and recycled artwork, the most impressive being the pieces he made with beer cans on a loom. That's right, a loom that wove with metallic strands! Purses, flags, dogs, images of Burning Man (which he attended a few times) and other colorful creations, some of which departed with us.

The photo above is from Tonopah, previously known only to me as a reference in a Little Feat song. The Clown Motel sign pretty much forced me to grab that Big Ball of Tape and whirl around until dizzy. That outburst was followed by a serious haul through the mountains and onto the so-called Loneliest Highway in the World, US 50. It definitely has its share of scenic diversions, but the one we came for was the Middlegate Shoe Tree. We've seen shoe trees before, but never quite like this. It's pretty much the only vertical thing around. Since we'd brought no footwear of our own, we opted to play some catch in its shade. Slapping leather of another kind, you might say.

The clouds were dipping lower and lower as we passed the salt flats and Sand Mountain, the singing sand dune that might be fun if you had the time to play that tune. We didn't, and Fallon is where we're down for the night. This place does have clocks...

Music In the Van--Loose Fur "Born Again In the USA", "Classic Voices In American Soul",

Eric Clapton "Unplugged", Ben Folds Five "Whatever and Ever Amen", The Kinks Greatest Hits

Highest Gas Price- $4.99 (diesel) wow!

death valley dazed

2008-05-05T22:23:00.004-05:00

Leaving Las Vegas wasn't cinematic, but it was time consuming. They just keep building strip malls and casinos in gas stations further and further away from town. We stopped at one, re-iced, slathered on sunscreen and talked about "Death Valley Days" and Borateem in preparation for searching out stuff in the desert.

Stuff like Cathedral Canyon, a sculpture park built into a small natural canyon near the California-Nevada line. Apparently a Vegas attorney named Roland Wiley spent years creating it as a tribute to his daughter, but then he passed away too, and the vandals have had their way with it. The statue of Christ of the Andes was headless, the bridge was gone, and the small grottos in the canyon walls were crumbling away too.

We said a small thank you once again to the preservationists out there who save sites like these, and headed toward Beatty to meet one. Suzanne Hackett-Morgan worked with Seymour Rosen in California many years back, and is now helping the Goldwell Open Air Museum stay viable in its Death Valley domain. Technically, the artists whose work is on display here were trained. But they came from Belgium, and saw in this inhospitable terrain a great place to drink lots of beer and make whatever they wanted. There's a large metal miner (with a penguin), a spooky Last Supper, a giant pink pixilated woman, and as the picture above shows, a new addition that fits right in. Recently, Suzanne managed to corral a piece from the Las Vegas Children's Museum called "Sit Here", revamped and re-imagined it and voila, another piece for the park.

Why Goldwell, when it's actually in Rhyolite? Apparently, Albert, the Belgian who started it all back in the 80s, said "gold was what people came here for, and Wellington was the name of the mine, so, Goldwell!" And speaking of Rhyolite, except for the old train depot, it's nothing but ruins. The depot and Tom Kelly's Bottle House, that is. Built in 1908 utilizing the resource that thousands of miners who lived there at the time contributed--glass bottles. It's been shored up with a new roof in the last few years, which is great. However, it's behind barbed wire, and no one had a key. Not so great.

Don did take a small spill on the rocks at Rhyolite, but his skinned knee isn't going to bench him. Best of all, we left the park with great swag --T-Shirts, cards, books, and a real appreciation for the passion that someone like Suzanne can bring to places like these. Did I mention she likes the Jayhawks too?

Music In the Van--John Hiatt "Best Of", Minus Five "Down With Wilco", Joni Mitchell "Shine"

is there a doctor in the house(s)?

2008-05-04T23:04:00.003-05:00

Here's an indication of just how exciting our lives are these days. We hit Las Vegas before dark, and the main thing on our minds was that we could probably do some laundry!

Actually, our hotel (which was being repainted as Don discovered outside his window this morning) technically is in North Las Vegas. That's a ways from the Strip, but we did drive down it this morning on our way to a place that encapsulates the town's history and so much more. And it does it all in a huge, rambling structure that began as a single ranch home, thanks to that man above, Dr. Lonnie Hammargren.

Lonnie is a neurosurgeon, musician and former lieutenant governor of Nevada. He's also an amateur archaeo-astronomer, and a guy who can't resist yard sales. Of course, the things he's acquired are sometimes quite large-- old casino signage, pieces of atomic and aerospace history, movie sets, vintage cars. He's built a pyramid on the roof that helps him chart the stars, he's working on a Stonehenge up there too, and, oh did I mention there's an iron lung inside a sarcophagus in the basement in which he plans to be buried?

Lonnie's chums include American astronauts and Russian cosmonauts, Vegas musicians and magicians, as well as high-profile politicians like Harry Reed, who he met when he was being sued some years ago. He's also pretty popular at a nearby casino where he plays accordion most Sundays with the aptly named Dumkoffs.

For hours and hours we walked and listened, looked and learned. We sat on Johnny Weismuller's old couch, heard Liberace's piano, talked about Teddy Roosevelt and Howard Hughes... it was a day to remember, and best of all, no brains needed surgery.

No music in the Van since we really didn't drive too far, but Don does report he's over the $2.00 mark in found money for the trip so far. America rejoices!

rockin' our way to chloride

2008-05-03T22:40:00.002-05:00

OK, first things first, no ghost sightings from our night at the Jerome Hotel, though Don did report that one of the occupants of 402 was screaming with something other than fright. For his sleep-related troubles, we treated him with a John Wayne lunchbox from the hotel gift shop. On the way out o' town, we made friends with some bikers in the lot and Mike handed off our ostrich egg from the other day to someone who said they'd cook it. I can't believe I just wrote that sentence.

After a scenic turn on 89A we hooked back up with I-40, then ducked off it at Seligman, which claimed (and we're not sure why) to be the birthplace of Route 66. At any rate, it was hoppin' on this lovely Saturday morn, with overflow crowds flowing out of Delgadillo's Snow Cap Drive-In and many other 66-tinged businesses.

We really wanted to see Kingman though, not the least reason being its full embrace of Andy Devine. Who, you say? (Mike does too.) Andy was a squeaky voiced cowboy sidekick in movies and TV, and even though he's got a major street named after him, the people we asked were as clueless as Mike. The streets were teeming with folks looking at classic cars in some kind of retrofest, so we played some catch at a stumpy pyramid honoring the only camel train in US history. I'm not making this up!

We'd heard that Chloride, a tiny town 20 miles north of Kingman was full of junk sculptures, but details were sketchy. We drove its deserted streets for awhile, saw a few token attempts at recycled art, including a place advertising "crap I make", and then hit the motherlode at Sharron Gidding's Shady Ladies Antique Store. Sharron calls herself a Chloridiot, and says the bottle trees out front of the shop are her idea of a sign. They're unlike any we've seen before--really more like bottle chollas, Don pointed out.

Sharron hauls rocks and driftwood up from the river in her kayak, and in doing so has lost 85 pounds in the last few years. The inside of her house has been somewhat overtaken by odds and ends that she makes, sells, or is just impressed with. She likes to build what she calls cowgirl fences along the edge of her land, more decorative than cowboys would likely choose to make. She's one ball o' fire, and we're pretty sure the two r's in her name have something to do with rock & roll.

Music In the Van--Gram Parsons "GP and Grievous Angel", John Stewart "Fire In the Wind".

Simon & Garfunkel Live 1969

art that truly lives on

2008-05-02T18:35:00.004-05:00

Woke up bright and early in Flagstaff (Mountain non-DST sun seems to show up fast) with Elifante on our mind. Our guide to this jaw-dropping sculpture village and residence built by Michael and Leda Kahn wanted to meet in Sedona at 8 AM. I want it on the record that we hit the Safeway parking lot at the exact moment! A good omen, and we happily followed J.D. down to Cornville, a far less busy town off 89A.

Michael, we knew, had passed away in March, after a battle with Pick's Disease. a form of Alazheimers that had reduced him to just two words, though he continued to paint right on up to the end. Not surprising when you start seeing the scope of work that went into the place, all the rocks that were moved, the beams that were raised and the painting that was done in the thirty years since the couple arrived. Completely jaw-dropping in its diversity and its execution. Michael wasn't a morning or evening person, Leda says, he was both.

Elifante encompasses a number of non-traditional structures, like the Hippodome, where they eventually lived, Pipe Dreams (a gallery for Michael's paintings), the Winter Palace, the Bath House and so on. There are gardens, trees they've planted, even a nennis court. That's tennis with no net, and definitely, she told us, no rules.

It seems almost condescending to point out the hobbit-ness of the place, but the world Peter Jackson built for the movies is eerily close to Elifante in many ways. It's shapes and passages,

playfulness and functionality are magical. We've seen nothing quite like it before, and that's something I don't say lightly. We're sorry we couldn't meet Michael, but the work he made, and the look in Leda's eyes as she talked about him spoke volumes in his absence.

We're lucky guys. and we know it.

And just to top it off, we pulled the plug early, and headed for Jerome, an old mining town at the top of a hill that counter-culture types reclaimed in the 70s. Of course, it's also a hotbed of the paranormal, and our night's lodging spot, the Grand Hotel is reputed to be ghost central. Who'll be Scully tonight?

Music In the Van--Regina Spektor (a favorite of Larry Harris', whose "endorsement" helped convince Leda to grant our request. Thanks, Lar)

Highest Gas Price-- $4.39 (diesel) two days ago in New Mexico.

And while we're playing the addendum game, the CD from yesterday I couldn't name was "Actual Size" which might be the title or it might be the artist, but it was funny and pretty darned good. Gracias Joe Khron of Lawrence, Kansas.

winding a windy way to flagstaff

2008-05-01T23:46:00.002-05:00

We woke up knowing that the day was going to be breezy, but the cold was a bit of a shock. Farmington was barely breaking 40 when we rolled past Sunny, its first rate Muffler Man, mounted atop the Sun Glass Store on West Main. Sunny was rocking rather violently. leading us to hope that the show didn't end abruptly with a large fiberglass man crushing us.

It didn't, but we almost wished it had, standing with our teeth chattering at the famed 4 Corners monument northwest of Shiprock. We'd dreamed of playing catch there, throwing to 4 states at once, but alas... It's a Navajo owned attraction, and they think that taping there should be worth $1500. That's right, they've had crews pay it, the guy told us. Not us, of course, and we left with a bad taste in the four corners of our mouths. Bummer.

Long stretches of driving through more Navajo country followed, leading down to Adalamo, AZ. At exit 303 on I-40, the signs all point to Stewart's Rock Shop. And not just signs, but giant homemade dinosaurs with moving parts that light up and blink! No problem shooting pictures here. Along with rocks and petrified wood, the Stewarts (it's really Charles' wife Gazell who runs the place) have over 100 ostriches to see and feed. We left with the promised petrified wood sample and postcard, along with a bonus parting gift from Gazell--an ostrich egg that we'll try to get cooked up tomorrow. No cholesterol, you know...

And finally, a few miles further west, Holbrook helped us score the trifecta. That is, we've now seen all three remaining Wigwam Village Motels. The one here is operated by the son of the man who opened it back in 1950, when it also pumped a lot of Texaco to Route 66 travelers. As Don pointed out, that's the same year he was built, and his wiring's starting to fritz. But overall the 15 units appear to be doing quite well. This Wigwam was the one that Oprah visited a year or two back, but there wasn't enough room for her 18 crew members, so she didn't actually stay. She did send a chopper back later to get some aerial shots. We told John we'd send ours someday too.

Music In the Van--"Jayhawks "Live at the Women's Club", William Shatner "Has Been", Dire Straits "Making Movies", R. Crumb, Dirk Hamilton, and a CD someone gave Don that I can't remember now. (We drove a lot.)

a gritty day in navajo land

2008-04-30T22:14:00.003-05:00

Actually, we started bright and early in Chama, a quaint little town in northern New Mexico known best for its narrow gauge railroad. We'd spent the night at the Cumbria Suites, which might be described as a handful of rooms added to the back of the owner's house. But it had a three foot basketball goal on which we dunked mightily to get our pre-coffee juices flowing. Also worth noting-- at the actual coffee shop in town, we saw that our old chums Brewer & Shipley were slated to play the Chama Fest in June. One Toke Over the Narrow Gauge Line!

Anyway, our trip west from there on US 64 was largely uneventful except for a gas stop that yielded the slowest pump ever--10 minutes (not kidding) for two gallons. Mike's mission to pick up supplies at the supermarket nearby was equally time-challenged. So we made it to Farmington a little later than planned, meeting up there with Jason Beasley, a very nice guy whose father has had much to do with bringing Navajo folk art to greater visibility.

Our first stop on the route behind Jason's Bigfootish vehicle was in Upper Fruitland to visit Mamie Deschillie. Now 87 and a little less vigorous than when she walked to Washington, D.C. in the 1980s, Mamie is the grande dame of Navajo creativity. Paintings, dolls, cutout animals and other non-traditional images have made her famous well beyond New Mexico. She was willing to speak with us (with interpretation by her son Jerome) but in the old Navajo way, preferred no still photos.

Forty miles south of Farmington, with more guidance from Jason, we found carver Johnson Antonio, and he had no problem with us taking pictures at all. Due to the blustery winds that were starting to whoop, we moved the piece he had in progress and his tools inside his hogan, and watched him work the wood. No power tools for him. Johnson started carving after he retired from the railroad, and lovingly pours his heart and soul into these representations of many things Navajo. Even though it's a tough life out on the reservation, he says he prefers it to being in town.

And after following Jason down more incredibly dusty roads near Chaco Canyon searching in vain for the Willetos, we'd agree that it is a very tough place, harsher than almost any we've seen. Thanks again to Mr. Beasley for the tour, and for so deftly weaving us into the fabric of these artists' lives. We're richer for it.

Music in the Van-- Starbucks English Invasion compilation, Ryan Adams "29", Lucinda Williams "World Without Tears"

Highest Gas Price So Far $4.59 diese

no country for pink coyotes

2008-04-29T22:18:00.003-05:00

We've been to Santa Fe before--10 years ago when we visited the International

Folk Art Museum. It's the kind of town where you can't swing a dead cat without hitting a gallery of some kind. This time we had a couple of specific artists in mind, and meeting them was well worth any touristy inconveniences we may have experienced.

Stop #1 was Ron Rodriguez, the grandson of Felipe Archuleta, a carver whose fierce and funny tigers, giraffes, fish, elephants and countless other critters are highly prized pieces today. Ron started in the family operation near Tesque when he was 9, first carving teeth, then painting a little, until he was making animals on his own. Unlike his grandfather, who died in 1990, Ron's more than willing to use power tools, and also to incorporate metal and various found objects into his work. His fiery red devil pig is one example of the less traditional forms he's delving into.

When we mentioned to Ron that we'd heard Santa Fe's famed "Fridgehenge" was no longer standing, he offered to show us the site to make certain. Sure enough, no more GEs and Kelvinators in Druidesque formation at the landfill. Something about a safety hazard... so we followed him into town for lunch at The Shed and to see a few more Archuleta sculptures at the Rainbow Man Gallery. Zach down there is our personal hero for all the help he's offered, not the least of which was the use of his very own parking space in back!!!

Speaking of galleries we love, the Manitou is also on our A list for making it so easy to shoot some of Nicholas Herrera's work, which they're featuring in a show this summer. Women with ladders who adjust lights on request is what heaven must be like...

After our time in Santa Fe we headed north to El Rito, where the Herrera family has lived for generations. In fact, his mother's buried in a very cool shrine at the back of the house. Nick makes no bones about the fact that he was on a collision course with disaster from drugs and drink. In fact, a headon crash in a Yugo at 80 miles per hour helped convince him that getting his act together was essential. A modern day santero is how he's often described, with updated takes on saints and sinners that radiate intensity. More and more, Nicholas weaves social commentary into his work, taking artistic aim at political figures and corporate greed.

He also restores old cars and trucks, including the '39 Chevy coupe in which he raced down the road with Don in tow. When he brought our favorite Camera Guy back safe and sound, we showed him the Big Ball of tape, and heard the phrase we've always wanted--"su pelota es bonita."

From El Rito we cruised north past The Ghost Ranch and those rocky red cliffs that Georgia O'Keefe loved so much. Great light and some non-Frito-Lay chips made the drive a delight.

Music In the Van--Amos Lee, Sharon Jones & The Dap Kings "100 Days, 100 Nights", Jim Lauderdale "Lost In the Lonesome Pines"

full tilt at the bone zone

2008-04-20T19:00:00.003-05:00

Seldom do we get to retrace our steps on this show. And if we do, it's usually at such a clip that there's no time to savor it. But today, it was truly Turquoise Trail II for RVRR. We'd driven scenic New Mexico Highway 14 nearly ten years ago for segments of episode #402, and ended up in Santa Fe. This time though, we just wanted to make it through Madrid (one of the funkiest old mining towns turned cosmic seeker convergence center ever) to Tammy Lange's roadside extravaganza known as the Bone Zone.

Tammy Tattoo as she likes to be called got that name legitimately, working as one of the state's first female inkers. In 1997 she started building an environment about halfway between Madrid and Cerillos, creating as she likes to call it "the art that dies to live." There are indeed a great many bones out here that have been fashioned into motorcycles and other forms that you may or may not recognize. There's her Better Bones & Gardens area, complete with the Wheel of Imagination (which one nameless tall producer walked into with his noggin) the River of Glass and Tiny Town itself.

The town's got a jail, a church, hotel and gallows, all part of her miniature golf course, though finding balls to putt with is half the challenge. Then there's Tammy's very own bowling alley, complete with glass bottle "pins" that make every frame a lot more fun than the regular kind. "If it seems weird, chances are it is" says one of the signs that she's sprinkled around.

There has been some upheaval around the Bone Zone in the last few months, causing Tammy the stress of finding another place to live. She can still work here on her art though, and she vows that in a month or so, the place will be looking better than ever. She bought new tattooing gear, and hopes that the revenue stream from it will turn things around. We left her some $$ in the donation box, and a Big Ball T-Shirt that she promised to cut up nicely. We say rock on to that.

On the way back to Albuquerque we stopped in at Tinkertown, a sensational site near Sandia Park that we did see on the '98 trip. Circus sign painter and carver extraordinaire Ross Ward made it "while you were watching TV" and we were humbled by his achievement. Ross passed away in 2002, but his wife Carla still has it up and running, and to say that we were happy to see her (and it) is an understatement. We meet the greatest people doing this show, and even though Carla says we're doing important work because we're documenting it, we know who the real heroes are.

Did I mention yesterday that Don bought too much kettle corn?

Music In the Van--Kathleen Edwards, Byrds Super Hits (truck stop purchase)

Don's found money count to date on the trip-- $1.47

tiling the time away

2008-04-19T19:36:00.004-05:00

When Erin Magennes was still in high school in Albuquerque, her mother, an art professor at the University began the most ambitious project of her life--tiling the home they lived in, from top to bottom and everywhere in between.

Not just a single color, or a basic pattern that repeats. No, Beverly Magennes made each wall different, accenting them with flowers, birds and bursts of color, using fragments of tile that she scrounged and/or was gifted. On the inside, all the ceilings and walls were covered in cereal boxes and coins, cigar packages and popsicle sticks. Beautifully! All in all, it was an 11 year undertaking. And then Beverly moved on.

Meanwhile, Erin was developing a love of tilework herself. For years, she had an art car that

carried much of the same sense of vibrant design and meticulous detail. But the house, as she learned the hard way, was falling prey to the dangers of time and weather. And the fact that her mom hadn't been as interested in proper technique as she was in making her vision a reality. So Erin (who now owns a tile business) somewhat reluctantly begun the labor-intensive process of renovating the Tile House. "It's an Albuquerque icon" she says, and a task she felt had to be done. A year and a half later the place is truly looking great, and even though Erin tried to not be on camera, we TV Weasels knew she needed to be. We didn't even ask how many tiles, like some pesky crews!

Our ABQ stay included a great lunch nearby at Sophia's, a small, non-descript eatery that's known for its good, hearty breakfasts and lunches. We needed our strength for a run down to the fairgrounds to see Fidel. That's what the locals call the mustachioed Bunyan style Muffler Man who's wielding an axe on the roof of a Vietnamese Restaurant. Talk about cultural diversity. That's just off Central Avenue, also known as Old Route 66. There's a stretch of East Central where motels of yore (the ones that are left anyway) are showing their age, but none quite like the Aztec. Apparently, some years ago a woman named Phyllis moved in and started decorating its simple stucco cabins with thrift store paintings and statuary, adding rocks, bottles, tires and assorted bric a brac. Muy eclectico...

The workday ended with some serious horseplay at Doc Atomic's home and studio just a few blocks from the campus of UNM. He's a recovering scientist whose specialty is art made with castoffs of the electronic age--circuit boards, wiring, plugs, etc. Machinas, his version of the Southwestern Kachina dolls so popular in these parts might give you a sense of his sensibilities.

He too has an art car, or truck in this case. One that started as a picture postcard truck, then a stucco truck to match his house, and finally a Circuit Board pickup, which picked up the Big Ball for some Route 66 joyriding we won't soon forget. And Doc seemed pretty happy with his RVRR T-Shirt, which he promised he'll take with him next week to France. Please take some pix, Doc and let us see ourselves in Paree!

Highest Gas of the Trip--$4.29 (diesel)

viva las vegas, the other one

2008-04-18T22:33:00.006-05:00

How lucky are we?

Thanks to our good friend Larry Harris from the Orange Show, we have a new pal in Las Vegas, New Mexico.

Margaret is a great fan of folk art, and even purchased (she showed us the receipt) our book a while back, which we happily signed for her at the grand old Plaza Hotel in Las Vegas. The Plaza was a favorite of Teddy Roosevelt's, was used by Tom Mix in some of his movies and now reputed to be a wee bit haunted. Our stay was low-key and quite pleasant, with no ghosts to be seen at all.

The morning low did drop to twenty two degrees, sunny and crisp, as we followed/chased Margaret to one of the places she'd found for us to investigate. It's called the Casa de Colores, which despite what Don said doesn't mean "house of calories." The "colors" are the creation of Casey Marquez, a 78 year old who's been living in it for twenty years or more, painting both outside and in because "it makes me happy." Casey worked in auto body repair, which may or may not explain his fascination with spray paint. He's fond of smoking, loves his dog Spot, and he plays a little harmonica too. Kudos are also in order for his home health care worker Yvonne, who helps him get out to work on the place and makes him stay off ladders.

Margaret's next tip took us a few blocks south of the Plaza to a homemade theme park in Bobby Valdez's yard. Concrete's the name of the game in this one--cartoon rodents, tweety birds, spiders, dinosaurs and anatomically correct caveman, not to mention an elaborate indoor swimming pool. The artist wasn't home but his neighbor Manuel spoke glowingly about the work Bobby has done, even though he "hadn't lifted even one little rock to help him." He did however lift the Big Ball for a moment, just long enough to let out a quick "Jesus Christ" and put it back down. Another satisfied customer!

Manuel also talked about more of the movies filmed around Las Vegas, from "Easy Rider" to "Red Dawn" to "No Country For Old Men"-- motivation to get out and see some more of the Land of Enchantment ourselves. We headed out on scenic, shoulderless Highway 3, sharing space with a large cow at one point. The road winds through the Pecos River valley and into some beautiful terrain. Eventually we landed in Chilili, or just outside it at a small cemetery full of Horace McAfee's handiwork. Over the years, Horace embellished the graves of family members and other folks from this small rural community, using metal and tin, much of it punched out with a nail. It's simple and touching, and would only have been better if we'd been able to find Horace's grave too.

Music In the Van-- Fiona Apple "Extraordinary Machine", Warren Zevon's Greatest Hits, Starbucks "From the Coffeehouse" Compilation

aliens been berry berry good to them

2008-04-17T20:22:00.001-05:00

OK, the Cover Up Cafe didn't quite make it, and the Alien Shaved Ice Shack hasn't opened for the season yet, but all throughout Roswell it's clear that whether extraterrestrials landed near here in 1947 or not, the local economy wouldn't be the same without them. There is an "official" UFO Research Center in the old movie house, but it's kinda stuffy and staid. We wanted souvenirs and silly thrills of the Outer Limits kind, which are best acquired from places like The Alien Zone, which even features dioramas with bug-eyed humanoids suitable for posing.

Scully and Mulder badges. Check. Roswell Snow Globe. Check. Alien Hot Sauce, Frisbee and Magnets, T-Shirts and Sweatshirts and whew.... let's just say that viewers like you were very generous today in helping us remember our visit.

Call it coincidence, but Roswell also just happened to be hosting the state's Tourism Conference this week. And Governor Bill Richardson happened to be staying at the same hotel, just a few doors down from Don. We always bring guest gloves, so some celebrity guest catch seemed a genuine possibility, but the gov was gone before breakfast. No pepper, indeed.

The weather took a turn for the worse during our shopping spree, so as we headed north out o' town, the skies were looking gray and foreboding. Rain with a touch of sleet pelted us several times, and put the notion of more TV today right to bed. Speaking of beds, we're booked at the storied old Plaza Hotel in Las Vegas (the one in New Mexico, that is) and planning to meet Margaret, a friend of a friend, and get this, an actual purchaser of our book. Details tomorrow. We've got ghosts to deal with tonight.

Music In the Van -- Starbucks Classic Country compilation, Elko Railroad Earth Live (from Don's nephew)

New Highest Gas Price -- $4.25 (diesel)

sugar shock

2008-04-16T22:40:00.003-05:00

Rufino Loya told his wife he was going to make something beautiful for her. And proceeded to do just that in and all around the yard of his small frame house near a Highway 54 off ramp in El Paso. Mr. Loya grew up in Mexico, saw churches and shrines that fired his imagination, and even though he was working at the Levi Strauss factory (he's retired now), would come back and spend countless nights and weekends on his "Wedding Cake House" or Casa de Azucar. That's what the neighbors started calling the ribbons of shockingly white columns and spires that began to dance around the property. "The whole house is like a prayer" he explained, and admits he's done it partly in hopes that others would be inspired to beautify El Paso in ways of their own.

We know some of this because of our guest translator, Adair Margo, a local gallery owner who treasures the magical world that's been created out here. While we struggle to say things in Spanish beyond eating, drinking and other basic functions, she helped us talk art and aesthetics with the man himself. Kudos to her, and to Mr. Loya for opening the gates to his very sweet monument.

Did I mention the wind? Blowing the dust. Like crazy. Good thing we could run over to H&H Coffee Shop & Car Wash for a scrubbing and a great meal. For us, not the vehicle. H&H is an institution like no other we've encountered, run by two brothers right across the street from the house where they grew up. Maynard, the outgoing bro who showed us around, says they don't make much on the food because the quality's so high. Chile rellenos, which Mike ordered, are their best known dish, but whatever I had (the waitress' pick) was first rate as well. We talked Jayhawk basketball with several Texans at the counter, and watched the van get the royal treatment, including a Big Ball buffing from Shorty himself.

Then, wind or no, we headed to a small plaza in the heart of downtown. The one they call Alligator Park. Named for the actual gators that lived in it from the 1800s to the 1960s. There's tales of them being taken to nearby to stay warm at night, but now they're only found in fiberglass, in a massive fountain (no water actually) in the middle of the grounds. Grounds where, according to a very detailed sign, no projectiles can be thrown!

That's not really why we left town, but leave then we did. Bye bye Texas, hello Land of Enchantment. Some Roadside America tips on scrap metal cars and a welded dinosaur along the highway were pretty underwhelming, but then we latched onto Ham. Ham the Astrochimp, who is buried in the front lawn of the Space Museum--a hall of fame worthy monkey. Except we were just in Independence, Kansas, which claims their Miss Able was actually the first space ape some two years earlier. Did Ham have a better agent? Or was it the fact that he survived his ride and Miss A didn't? An asterisk on this one, perhaps?

Anyway, Roswell's our destination. Who's gonna be Scully tonight?

Music In the Van--EmmyLou Harris Starbucks Compilation, Loose Fur, Finnigan & Wood "Crazed Hipsters", Neil Young "American Chrome"

Highest Gas Cost Seen--$4.29 (diesel)

Also notable--First 2008 penny found by Don in 2008

ran the van man

2008-04-15T22:23:00.005-05:00

Ran Van Horn is nothing if not ambitious. And he's having fun . Though he's had no art training whatsoever, Ran opened the Van Gogh Gallery on the main drag of Van Horn, Texas 11 years ago. Thousands of people a day drive past on I-10 he figures, and the price is right for rent in this part of the world, so why not?

Ran's previous occupation was Baptist minister, but a fall and a head injury gave him a reason to relocate back to his native state, and start painting in the Van Gogh way. Maximalist, he calls it. Sometimes it's recreations of the one thousand or so paintings Vincent made during his short career, and sometimes it's variations on his own heroes, newsworthy events or simply things that strike his fancy. He paints, and then lets the world slowly wander in to see, and sometimes buy.

We showed Ran the World's Largest Ball of Videotape in fervent hope he'll get the urge to whomp up a masterpiece that includes it. We'll keep you posted.

At the other end of the street Van Horn also has an antique shop with a front yard brimming with junk sculptures. We couldn't find the guy who makes 'em, but we took plenty of pictures and heard Van and his friend Patricia say plenty of nice things about the sculptor, whose name is Gerald. It's right next to Chuy's Mexican Restaurant, which proudly proclaims that football analyst John Madden stops in often and is crazy about 'em.

Speaking of crazy, we drove up to the Guadalupe Mountain National Park (the highest point in Texas except maybe Willie Nelson's bus) to play some very windy catch, and what should we find out in the midst of the cactus and brush but an old handgun. A 9 millimeter that someone had unceremoniously ditched. New meaning to the phrase "rock and fire." We loved the view nonetheless, and followed it with a sprint through the Salt Flats nearby. Grand Caravans seldom set speed records, so don't even ask.

Music In the Van--Shelby Lynne Suit Yourself", Crowded House's newest

the poop on oop

2008-04-14T22:59:00.004-05:00

You may remember the big cigar smoking caveman from the comic pages of yore. Or like Mike, you may not. The folks of Iraan, Texas do. They've got a "fantasy park" that bears his name and image because A.O.'s creator got the idea for the strip while working in the oil fields of West Texas. This is truly a photo op rich piece o' greenspace in a town with little else to see. And the bathrooms at the back are sparkly clean to boot!

We didn't start the day here though. We began by dodging lawyers and lawmen in San Angelo (that compound fracas you know) on our way to see monumental sculptures with biblical themes by Donald Keeney. Don calls his operation Message in Mesquite, and his bread butter is/are small crosses. But it all started (and still continues) with massive, detailed carvings that come from his love of history and archaelogy, and yes, the Bible. They're graceful and fluid, and in some cases actually tell time too. Way cool. He also spoke of the many rattlesnakes that populate the grounds, but we only saw weasels.

On the post-Oop side of the day's mileage we passed the no-longer World's Largest Roadrunner, Paisano Pete in Fort Stockton, circled the contemporary art center that tiny Marfa

has become (we particularly liked the old jail) and finished a very long day at the fake Prada store in the middle of nowhere. It's a piece of conceptual art along Highway 90 that tickled our fancy, if not our feet. Nice sunset over an old windmill, and on to Van Horn for more funny biz tomorrow.

Music In the Van- Various Artists "Timeless--the Music of Hank Williams", Elton John "Honky Chateau", Cat Power "The Greatest", Bob Marley "Legend", Bob Dylan's new Starbucks Artist Picks collection

Oh, and the highest gas prices of the trip so far-- $4.14 for diesel!

trabajando en san angelo

2008-04-13T22:12:00.003-05:00

Kinda freaky when you turn on CNN, and the first thing you see is a story from the town you're in--especially when it's an out of the way place like San Angelo, Texas. The story of course is polygamists gone wild, and we're the only TV crew in town that's not here for the compound.

We did come for the art however, and found it all day in various forms.

First on the agenda was a quick run out to the Old Chicken Farm. Not a poultry place anymore, but a compound for artists. The O.C.F. even has a B&B and a great restaurant that's closed on Sundays. Roger, one of the founding artists, kindly dished out CDs of the country pickin' that happens out on the patio too. TV Weasels love free stuff!

The next two assignments both involved rocks and driving around town. First we hunted for a grander than average fence made by a man named Cadena, enclosing both his home and his goats. Then, with the gracious assistance of architect Craig Kinney, we trespassed in the yards of some very cool houses made by stonemasons in the 20s and 30s. Craig's not sure who made 'em, but he thinks they're folk art in themselves, with decorative touches and flourishes no one would dream of including today. We agree, and so does our own guest architect, Larry Harris (Narrowlarry to some of you) from Houston, who's joined the dog pack for a few days as well

Next we met up with a cop turned gardener turned sculptor named Bobby Peiser. Bobby does stuff with plants, with wood, metal, stone and whatever else captures his fancy. There's an

olympic torch cactus, the ruins of Pompei, gates to nowhere, tiki gods and greenery with various Greek and Latin names we don't actually recognize. Bobby's getting married again on June 5, and so happy he risks losing his status as an crusty, eccentric old fart (his words.)

All of which served as a set up for the day's final slam dunk, the Cascada de Piedra Pinta, a front yard waterfall grotto made by Jesus Zertuche. The impeccably dressed Mr. Z. was a ranch foreman and laborer who brought materials back to his home near downtown, and crafted the one-of-a-kind tableau with snakes and dragons and bears to populate it. The walls of his home are an amazing black and white stone extravaganza as well. And to sweeten the deal even more, he took us inside, and played a few of the 450 or so songs he's written. Kudos to our own Mr. Murphy for putting his limited Spanish skills to the best use possible. Viva Zertuche!

Music in the Van-- David Lindley "El Rayo X" , Norah Jones' most recent

Trips to Starbucks--2

a man of steel, hoss and jackie too

2008-04-12T22:35:00.003-05:00

That's a house. Really. Robert Bruno's been building it since 1973 on the rim of Ransom Canyon a few miles outside outside Lubbock. He's got a degree in sculpture, but no experience at construction. So he's taught himself, and learned to solve the kinds of problems that occur when you're making something no one's ever seen before.

Is it a bird, plane. cow or something futuristic? Not really. Just something he felt compelled to do. And the house has shifted in form constantly, he says, with beams getting moved, windows reshaped, curves flattened and so on, as he feels the urge. But this year, something dramatic did happen to Robert. He moved in. Only to find that the only real difference is that instead of leaving at midnight or so, he stays!

We left long before midnight, to pay more homage to an icon of our youth whose Texas roots ran deep--Dan Blocker. We'd seen Hoss' grave in DeKalb, but O'Donnell claims him as their own because he basically grew up there. A nice Hoss head in a small park, and a museum with a pair of the lad's pants (from age 11) tell you this is the kind of place where a Bonanaza lunchbox like the one Don brought along would be admired. It was, and Don (whose birthday is the same as Dan's) even offered his as a backup should calamity ever claim the museum's.

Lamesas is just a little further down Highway 87, and home to another notable piece of the past--a Uniroyal Gal aka a Muffler Jackie. This one's been transformed into a cheerleader for the hometown Golden Tornadoes. Her footwear's wildly inappropriate for sideline activity, and maybe it's just Texas, but her uh, balcony seemed bigger than other Jackies we've seen before.

Last stop o' the day was Snyder, a town where a Gold Delorean once graced the bank lobby. It's gone, but a house on the edge of town has Mr. Peanut, a Champion Spark Plug, a coffee pot, hammer and other random sculptures sprinkled around the yard. I managed to leave my Starbucks travel mug at the gas station, but otherwise escaped Snyder safely.

Music In the Van * Addendum from Yesterday -- Tree Frog "Live At Liberty Hall" James McMurtry "Live In Aught Three" (we heard Levelland right as we passsed by the town)

Today--"Dixie Chicks "Home", Mark O'Connor "Heroes", Wilco "Sky Blue Sky"

routinely, he says, rusting and reacting with the elements.

This one's for the best boy

2008-04-11T22:05:00.002-05:00

That gleeful guy in the photo is trying to make the point that Nokona, the golden retriever seen in Rare Visions credits as the Best Boy, is nestled in the pocket of Don's Nokona ball glove, at the company's factory in Nocona, Texas. Pretty heady stuff, huh?

We actually managed to surprise our favorite shortstop by keeping him busy with the manual on our new HD camera as we approached his leather goods mecca. We were also a wee bit chilled from some time outdoors at the late Earl Nunnelly's field o' folk art near St. Jo. Earl's gone now, but the giant sunflowers, ladybugs and cacti forged from various implements and autos remain. As do a great many cow pies as well, which we deftly stepped around to do our important TV work.

Kinda like the task that took us to Wichita Falls. To see and enjoy the World's Littlest Skyscraper--all four stories of it. Seems that an East Coast scamster sold the Texans a skyscraper back in the 20s for a very good price, so good that it only

the big ball rolls again

2008-04-10T22:25:00.002-05:00

Today's the kind of day that yields many miles (523 if you're counting) and no actual TV footage. That's OK. We set off from KC in the rain this morning, talking what else, KU basketball and obscure musical facts. The plan was merely to get familiar with our new HD gear and place ourselves by nightfall in a spot where we could officially begin this sojourn to the southwest in sunshine tomorrow.

That place is Gainesville, Texas, which is where the photo above was snapped. Gainesville, intrepid viewers may recall, is where we met Glenn Goode, and his frontyard full of Muffler Men some years back. Glenn also had a Muffler Jackie, whose short skirt he'd modified somewhat in the name of modesty.

Today did yield a small disappointment. We were expecting a phone call from an MU student reporter who's writing a story about the Big Ball, but alas, it never came. Apparently, she's decided, like us, that fact checking is really over-rated!

Music in the van--Van M. "Tupelo Honey", Allison Krause & Robert Plant "Raising Sand",

John Prine "In Spite of Ourselves" , Richard Thompson "Sweet Warrior", Rockpile "Seconds of Pleasure"

One for the gipper, one for the road...

2008-04-08T20:37:00.004-05:00

It's all about balls, this time the kind you put in a hoop...Rock Chalk, we are about to put the petal to the metal...stay tuned.

(Larry thinks that the speed limit in west Texas is 85...and that's what I am going to tell the officer.)

Here we go...

2008-03-08T18:15:00.001-06:00

Last season at Salvation Mountain with Leonard Knight.

It's a cold one this winter as we plan our next season's adventures...so, we are heading south and southwest (maybe)! Look for us to hit the road (and start blogging) in mid to late April.

poe-etic justice

2006-10-24T11:59:00.002-05:00

It’s hard to put things past someone who’s seen most all your shows. Poe Dismuke in Bisbee, AZ.(the man up there hiding behind the clock) knew about the Big Ball, playing catch, guberburgers, and well, just about all our checkered past--thanks to someone sending him the tapes last year. And he still let us visit!

Poe and his wife Sam relocated a few years back to Arizona from Sebastapol, CA where he was among other things, an artist-in-residence at the local dump. Turns out he pretty much created that position, but it’s still a great credential. Poe assembles things from junk, some large and metallic , sometimes kinetic, for outside, some like his clocks and toys more suitable for easy indoor use. He’s big on ducks (as figures, not targets), duct tape and miniature golf. But as he points out, fun as they are, most of his ideas so far seem to be “money repellent.” We trust that will change with all this Public Television exposure to come!

We actually met Poe for breakfast at Dot’s Diner, which fed us both cheaply and well, with a stool for the Ball to occupy too. In all, Bisbee was a definite revelation, what with its old mining town charm and tolerance for the offbeat. This TV Weasel recommends a visit.

And this TV Weasel has turned the Ford Freestar northeastward now, heading home with many, many tapes to start turning into shows. At last count, we’ve put over 12,000 miles on the van (and ourselves) shooting these shows. Wish us luck (and no tickets)...

Music in the Van--Frank Sinatra “Fly Me to the Moon”, Neil Young “Unplugged”, Rolling Stones Rarities 1970-2003, Fiona Apple “Extraordinary Machine”

trailer valhalla

2006-10-23T11:56:00.003-05:00

Sometimes you see something so amazing you just have to have it. In this case, it was a foot long hoagie at the grocery store for $5.99 that could also double as a weapon. We bought it purely for the visual joy it seemed to bring, and the thought that with enough of these things, world hunger might be manageable after all...

And even though we weren’t planning a picnic, we did have the super sub handy for our visit to the Garden of Gethsemane near downtown Tucson. The garden is a collection of concrete sculptures that Felix Lucero made to pay back God for letting him survive WWI. The Last Supper’s the biggest, but there’s also a crucifixion, a tomb scene and even a self-portrait that Felix did while he lived and worked “down by the river.”

But Bisbee was our real destination. The brochure says the little mining town near the Mexican border was once the biggest city between St. Louis and San Francisco. Hard to believe, but it’s certainly very charming, and has one heck of a big hole (copper mine) nearby. Naturally, we played a little catch outside said hole, and wouldn’t you know, even pulled out the guest lefty glove so Ron from Colorado could join in too!

As clouds continued to roll in, we pulled up at the Shady Dell Camp Ground--known for the nine vintage travel trailers in which folks can stay. There’s teeny little ones, and longer, more swanky versions of the rolling homes that Americans fell in love with back in the 40s and 50s. Wesley, the owner, admits that it might be an easier sell if it was closer to something like Route 66, but then again, the weather takes less of a toll here than it might elsewhere. And Dot’s Diner, a picture perfect retro eatery next door pretty much seals the deal. We know where breakfast will be tomorrow!

Music in the Van--Van Morrison “Astral Weeks”, Bob Dylan “Modern Times”, Emmylou Harris Starbucks Artist Choice

Metal for the mind

2006-10-22T11:54:00.002-05:00

Cowboy movie star Tom Mix died in his Cord on Highway 79 south of Florence, AZ when his metal suitcase slammed into the back of his head. We hoped not to meet a smilar fate in our Ford, courtesy of the Big Ball!

Good news. We made it to Tucson, where Jerry Hall was waiting for us. Jerry runs a landscaping business, and keeps his own World of Imagination. That’s what he calls his yard, and all the stuff that he’s packed into it, including a spiral staircase made from water heaters that leads up to his treehouse.

Jerry started with a wild west theme many years ago, but has diversified dramatically. Metal insects, animals (mythical and otherwise) populate nearly every inch outside, and in the house there’s more made with marbles and tin cans. Sleep? He’s trying to do more of it, he says, but you know how it is...

We met up with our old chum Annie Andre and her husband Bill at Jerry’s place, and reconnoitered for snacks and a beer at their fabulous folk art filled home. Great to catch up and strategize for tomorrow’s trip to Bisbee. Thanks guys!

Music in the Van--Golden Smog “Weird Tales”, Sean Lennon “Friendly Fire”

More rockin’ in the ol’ dry heat

2006-10-21T11:51:00.001-05:00

The Phoenix sun bakes you pretty good, even in late October. We found that out visiting two notable art sites today in the north part of town. Stop #1 was the Sunnyslope Rock Garden, built over a 22 year period by Grover Cleveland Thompson in the yard where he’d retired. Apparently his wife wasn’t near as keen on his dishware flecked fenceposts and historical heads (we think that’s Red Skelton above) that make the place such an outsider art eyecatcher.

So much so that after his death in the 70s, Sunnyslope caught the eye of a New Yorker named Marion Blake, who couldn’t resist buying it and relocating. Even though she admits, she really likes cooler weather!

Marion has been a stupendous steward for this whimsical, upbeat assortment of concrete, Fiestaware and whatever else Mr. T had on hand when he was sculpting. The fact that it all began when he was 65 gives us good reason to believe the best is yet to come. However, it is also worth noting that this TV Weasel strained his back a bit lifting a concrete something or another while trying to help!

Speaking of seniors, Gus Brethauer, the man who calls his yard “Over the Rainbow,” is a spry 82. And by his estimation he’s spent something like a million dollars collecting pieces of Phoenix area history, petrified wood and cacti that he’s spread in mazes and relic-filled trails around several acres. (Don says several miles.) Wanna see some of the city’s old underground sidewalks? He’s got ‘em? Amusement park rides that Barry Goldwater rode on? A solar system in rock? A temple of doom, fossils, meteor pieces... Did I mention petrified wood?

And inside, a huge movie collection and 30,000 LP’s! In the category of obsessive collectors, we now have someone who runs neck and neck with the late Max Nordeen. Gus, take a bow...

Music in the Van-Loudon Wainwright III “Little Ships”

Say it with fire!

2006-10-20T11:48:00.002-05:00

It’s only fitting that a day which ended with a flame-spewing Trailer Trash Man in someone’s front yard actually began with a search for another atomic cannon. “Another” because we’ve seen the grandaddy of this really bad idea outside Fort Riley in Kansas, and wanted to compare Yuma, Arizona’s specimen. But it turned out to be more difficult than we’d planned, due to lack of good signage, which led to lots of aimless driving around outside the Proving Grounds. Advantage Kansas definitely--both for size and marketing!

Actually, it turned out to be a War & Peace mini-tour, since US 95 out by the Proving Grounds also runs by a tiny white church. We did some comparing with others we’ve seen in the Midwest, and agreed this classic six pewed beauty was a true title contender, with better than average paneling inside...

Roadside attractions were really the order of the day, continuing in Gila Bend, AZ with the Space Age Motel. This one went up in the 60s, and has stuck with its spacey ways. Duke Fox, the owner says it’s a lot of fun running a Best Western like no other, what with its saucer topped lobby and NASA graphics throughout. Plus he and his wife were muy generoso with Space Age mementos and shirts. Can you say TV Weasels?

And then we hit Phoenix. Or at least the traffic that surrounds it. After a bit of wandering we drove by Mr. Lee’s Oriental Rock Garden. Unfortunately, he passed away a few months back, so no use stopping in... But the place still looked great, and we rolled a little tape in his honor as we rolled by.

The real destination was Scottsdale by dark. That’s where Richard Wizardry demoed some of his pyrophonic creations, like Toaster Boy and Trailer Trash Man. He recycles appliances and kitchenware, metal and wire into sculptured forms and cues them with a keyboard to SHOOT FIRE! Right there in his front yard while we whooped in approval. And roasted weenies and toasted s’mores. Very impressive, and definitely nothing quite like we’ve ever seen before.

Music In the Van--Dixie Chicks “Long Time Gone”, David Byrne “Grown Backwards”,Shout Sister Shout” (Tribute to Sister Rosetta Thorpe)

The man and his mountain

2006-10-19T11:44:00.002-05:00

Don’t even ask about our night’s accommodations. According to Don, the Calipatria Inn was the second favorite place he’s ever stayed. What was first? Everything else! (He’ll show you the pictures.) The thing is, it was only 10 miles away from Niland, which meant easy morning access to Salvation Mountain, one of outsider art’s most incredible environments.

The mountain (and everything around it) is the work of the smiling man above, 74 year old Leonard Knight. He started back in 1974, with a simple plan to tell people that God is love. Now, 100,000 gallons of paint later, his rainbow hued peaks loom over the desert floor below. Which he’s painted as well, in the form of a beautiful blue ocean.

There are signs all around, reminding us that we should repent our sins, and love the Lord. But Leonard himself doesn’t preach at visitors. If you’re there for the art, that’s fine, and if you want to talk religion, he might do that too. He used to ride his bike around to find raw materials, but now he’s got a car. No electricity, phone, or water though. He mostly lives a hard scrabble desert life, painting, meditating and talking directly with “his preacher.”

Turns out we weren’t the only film crew looking for Leonard today either. A movie (Into the Wild) directed by Sean Penn that was shooting in the vicinity wanted to use Salvation Mountain for a scene or two, with Mr. Knight making a small appearance. We took him to lunch first, and told him we’d do most of the talking, so he could rest his voice. Thanks, Leonard. It’s a take!

Afterwards, we wandered off to see how much of a mess the nearby Salton Sea really is. Plenty of dead fish, and very few people at this bizarre water hole in the middle of the California desert.

Speaking of incongruous, how about the Center of the World? Did you know it’s in Felicity, just a few miles from the Arizona border? That there’s a plaque and a pyramid? And stairs from the Eiffel Tower? But it’s closed from Easter through Thanksgiving, so we couldn’t really learn the finer details. That still didn’t stop us from speculating on some of its Francophilic ways during some lively parking lot catch. Put me in coach, I’m ready to play...

Music in the van--new Madeline Peyroux, REM “Eponymous”, Jayhawks Rainy Day Music”

Desert with a view

2006-10-18T11:41:00.001-05:00

Talk about varied ecosystems. We started today in LaJolla, peering out at the Pacific from Mt.Soledad, where our search for what were known as the Munchkin Houses turned up nothing except McMansions and a great view. And while we were in the high-priced neighborhood, we also rolled up LaJolla’s gravity hill. Not your big-time no-holds-barred thrill ride, but way better than our feeble attempt months ago in Salt Lake!

Then we hightailed it down to Primitive Kool in Ocean Beach, the only outsider art gallery in a hair salon we’ve ever seen. Lynn and Paul, the owners, were haircutters first, then art lovers--who’ve found a way to display their inventory right in the salon. Stories were shared (Dr. Bob and Big Al in particular), art was purchased, and the Big Ball sat under a dryer. No cuts, trims or waxing for any of us, though...

We really didn’t have time anyway, since the desert was waiting for us. The Desert View Tower near Jacumba, that is. It’s an old school roadside attraction that’s been there since 1922, offering up a spectacular panorama of rocks and sky, with an assortment of folk art sculptures out back to boot. Ben, the current owner, bought it five years or so ago, because, he says, he’s “a misanthrope” and the desert’s a good place for guys like that!

Stories about the good old days when cars struggled to climb through these hills and desert rats drank in the tower’s bar, as well as new ones involving the Border Patrol kept us listening raptly. Souvenirs aplenty were liberated from the Tower Gift Shop (it’s a good one) and we left with only one small wound, suffered when Don slipped on his way up the boulder trail. Pass the Neosporin, and get ready for Salvation Mountain tomorrow!

Music in the van--Jim Lauderdale & Ralph Stanley ”Lost In the Lonesome Pines”, Janis Joplin’s Greatest Hits, Sting “Dream of Blue Turtles”

Don’s found money count--$5.70 (including a really great beat-to-a-pulp Kansas quarter)

Do you believe in magic?

2006-10-17T11:35:00.004-05:00

Yesterday Encinitas, today Escondido. Kinda confusing, though one’s by the water, one’s a bit further inland. And today in Escondido, as the 300,000,000th American was being born, we saw our first Muffler Man actually still holding a muffler! He’s downtown at Joor Muffler, where he’s been standing at attention for more than 30 years. With a pencil-thin mustache and rugged physique, he’s a truly striking specimen of mannus gigantus!

That was fine and dandy, but in no way prepared us for the jaw-dropping splendor of Queen Califla’s Magic Circle in the city’s Kit Carson Park. It’s a semi-stealth (very few signs) fiberglass, rock, tile and concrete installation in a distant corner of the park, created by a self-taught French-American artist named Niki de Saint Phalle.

Niki got the idea from an old Spanish tale about an Amazon queen who ruled California (at least we think it’s fiction), which would speak to the state’s poly-cultural blend. She wanted to create museum quality work in a family-friendly outdoor environment, and judging from the folks wandering through today, we’d say she succeeded in spades!

There are totems, snakes, birds, female forms, funny faces and of course, the queen herself riding an eagle in the center. Niki died before the work was finally completed, but the crew she assembled made sure that her wishes were carried out, and the Magic Circle has been open since 2003. With this much color and beauty staring you down, how can you help but believe?

Music in the van--Elvis Costello’s Starbucks Artist Choice

Oh yeah, we can dig it!

2006-10-16T11:32:00.002-05:00

Here’s a bit of irony. We’re driving south towards San Diego, the city with the country’s best year round climate--and it’s rainy and a wee bit chilly. After Oregon had been dry and in the 90s!

Encinatas was our actual destination, but the first stop in this bustling beach town turned out to be less than fruitful. The topiary Cadillac we’d read about in front of the 7-11 was, in the words of the sales clerk, “no mas.”

At least the city’s renowned boat houses were still there. A pair of most distinctive ship-shaped properties that Miles Minor Kellogg built from recycled materials 80 some years ago. Like Don said, “one’s Ginger, one’s Mary Anne.” And they might be really handy in a tsunami.

But today’s focal point was a site that may well be gone in another six months--Richard Margolin’s Rock & Roll House. The problem here is that the place is a rental, and the whole block may soon be condos. Which means that the purple swirls and playful pieces of semi-psychedelia which this tree service operator has blanketed the grounds with are at serious risk.

The founders of rock’ n roll are all honored here (quite colorfully)--from icons like Chuck Berry and Muddy Waters to the Rolling Stones, Elvis and Dylan. Also Buddy Holly, Mama Cass, Ike & Tinas, most of the Beatles (not Paul though) and artistically related figures like Lenny Bruce, Timothy Leary and Albert Einstein. Hey, it’s Richard’s house, he can put up whoever he wants!

We brought the Big Ball out to sit on Little Richard’s face, and snapped pictures a plenty, knowing that history was being made here. And trust us, Mr. M., we really can dig it.

Music In the Van--Little Willies, Counting Crows “New Amsterdam”

Boats, hold the water

2006-10-15T11:28:00.002-05:00

John Taylor is a landscape architect by trade. He’s also a man who builds boats unlike any we’ve ever seen before. And it’s not because he loves to sail. John learned years ago that the ocean was better in theory than reality. But he does like the shapes, the engineering challenges and the stories they can inspire.

So he crafts one-of-a-kind vessels from scrap wood, computer parts, hockey sticks, lawn chairs and whatever else gives him the “imperfect” results that he meticulously seeks. “If it’s an exact replica, there’s no room for you to really wonder about it,” he figures.

From his standard issue suburban San Juan Capistrano garage, John gleefully puts his saws to the test, sending bits of circuit boards and old furniture flying through the air. Do these boats float? Not likely, he admits. But that’s hardly the point of them, now is it...

John and his korgi Abbey were fabulous hosts, serving coffee and even sharing a “Lost In Space” soundtrack CD with us. (More talk about what a lame villain Dr. Smith really was.) Afterwards, we headed off for a glimpse of the famous mission where swallows religiously return--only to find it had closed at 5:00. Some quick catch outside the gates soon led to a lost ball over the wall! Hopefully, a wandering friar can put it to good use...

Music in the van--Elton John “Madman Across the Water”

Don’s found money count--More than $3.00 thanks to a certain unnamed coffee chain!!

Where Noah left his art

2006-10-14T11:24:00.002-05:00

First of all, who’d have thought we’d need long sleeves in the desert? And that after so many days without rain, we’d finally encounter it out here?

But that’s how it happened today outside Joshua Tree, at the Noah Purifoy sculpture park/environment. Pat and Roger, who work as caretakers couldn’t have been nicer, showing us around the acreage and telling tales of their time with Noah before he died in 2004. “I make assemblages, I don’t do maintenance” was one of the artist’s credos, so he’s fortunate that this retired couple do it so well.

Noah used all kinds of discarded materials to fashion complex shapes and forms, as well as structures you can literally walk into and through. Some are playful, some, like a water fountain for “whites and colored” are not. As an African-American who’d first studied social work, then lived and taught in Watts, he had plenty of experiences from which to draw--and this cactus covered space in the desert apparently fired him up well into his 80s.

Once again, since we’re far luckier than we deserve, the rain held off for real until we’d departed. and disappeared altogether as we stopped for gas and ice at Cabazon. The refueling location wasn’t completely random. We knew that Claude Bell’s giant dinos (as seen in Pee Wee’s Big Adventure) were there. Though their recent re-shaping into an anti-evolution exhibit was really pretty shocking! Say no more.

For a brief bit, we found ourselves back on I-10, then veered southwest toward Lake Elsinore, trying to recall whether it was from Hamlet or Macbeth. “Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead” is all Mike could say, and that was good enough.

After grabbing some coffee at a Starbucks that apparently opened yesterday, we wandered around the lake in question to G&R Mufflers, where a family of metal creations in the yard has become a local staple. Gary, their maker, wasn’t bending pipes today, so we made up a few stories about the figures on his behalf. We’ll check with him later to see if we’re even close!

Music in the van -- Neko Case & Her Boyfriends, “El Rayo X” David Lindley, “Freedom” Nneena Freelon

One beard, many bottles

2006-10-13T11:20:00.002-05:00

Elmer Long doesn’t think people smile enough. That’s part of the plan behind his Bottle Tree Ranch on National Trails Road, a stretch of old Route 66 outside Helendale, CA. He says as soon as he put up the first tree someone stopped to take a picture, so he put up another...and another, and now there’s well over a hundred sprouting up from the desert sand in his front yard. No admission fee either, although he keeps the gate shut so his dogs won’t get out.

If he sees you’ve stopped to take a look, he’ll usually come out for a chat, and maybe point out the significance of all the salvaged materials that adorn his treetops. Everything from traffic signals to firearms and parking meters! Most of them have a story that corresponds, and Elmer loves to reveal why they’re there. As for the beard, well, that’s been a part of him for more than 40 of his 60 years.

We took a souvenir rock with Elmer’s blessing, and even though we’d heard it was closed, made the ten mile drive out to Exotic World, the Strippers Hall of Fame on the other side of Helendale. The ornate gate at the head of the long drive was badly bent and solidly padlocked. Clearly, no famous G-strings were going to be ogled today. So we headed back to Victorville, Roy Rogers’ old stomping grounds for some tasty felafels and hummous, and a quick glimpse of a plaque in the park. Not honoring Trigger, but Brownie the Railroad Dog, who loved greeting trains there til one day he greeted one too closely, and the love affair was over. It’s in Victorville’s Forrest Park, and I’ll just say that Roadside America’s warning about unsavory characters in the vicinity is right on track (no pun intended.)

More desert driving ensued, though doing 70 in the 55 was nowhere near fast enough for the 90 plus crowd that roared around us. We wrapped the day and this particular show with some catch outside the Integratron, a futuristic dome that Venusians supposedly told George van Tessel how to build back in the 50s. We brought guest gloves in case any extra-terrestrials wanted to play, but alas, today it was just us throwing the ball and witty banter back and forth across the rocky road.

Music in the van--Amos Lee, Jonathan Richman & The Modern Lovers, “Magical Mystery Tour”, Gram Parsons “GP and Grievous Angel”

Don’s found-money count --$1.01 (Starbuck’s lounge chairs very profitable it seems)

Semper fi very fine

2006-10-12T11:17:00.001-05:00

Some days really remind you that we’ve got a great job. This was one. It didn’t hurt that we managed to skate down the Hollywood Freeway with minimal traffic mayhem, and cruise out to East LA more than half an hour ahead of schedule. That included a stop to see the Latino Muffler Man at Tony’s Transmissions. The guys at the shop wondered if we were location scouting for a movie, and were somewhat disappointed to hear otherwise, but no one chased us away.

Then we were off to Montebello, home to more restaurants advertising pastrami and tacos than any town we’ve ever seen. Actually, donuts, pastrami and tacos at one!

However, we passed up food in favor of getting to Elias Telles’ neat and tidy home on Spruce Street. Elias served in the Marine Corps (the hat above is the one he got in boot camp), and has worked ever since as a mason. Five years ago he began painting on scraps of wood and whatever he had around--mostly old baseball players from the Negro Leagues, and little known figures from the Civil War. He took them to a swap meet in Fairfax where movie biz types attend, and they started selling. “Being a mason, you get a pretty thick skin,” he says, explaining why he wasn’t worried about rejection. The joy of the work comes through in piece after piece, some of which he treats with his own special “coffee wash” to richen the colors.

And speaking of coffee, he and his brother Pasqual, along with his agent/dealer Tracey kept us in food and drink almost beyond our wildest dreams. What a deal...Humble, generous, talented--these all apply to our favorite member of the Corps since Sgt. Carter!

From Montebello, we hooked into a section of the great Mother Road itself, Route 66, that’s changed quite a bit in the last 50 years. But there in Rialto, the Wigwam Motel #7 still stands in all its teepee-riffic glory. New owner Manoj has done a remarkable job greening up the grounds and making the units all spic n’ span. With a few lessons from the Mike Murphy TV Weasel Acting School we had him pleading his case for Americans to pass up those motel chains, and sleep in a wigwam once again! He thought we might know Oprah, but had to let him down easy on that one...

Music in the van--”Hits” Joni Mitchell, “Legend” Bob Marley

A grail, finally gotten to

2006-10-11T11:13:00.002-05:00

I think the first time I saw a picture and an explanation of Simon Rodia’s Watts Towers was in an old Kansas Grassroots Art Association newsletter. That was sometime in the early 80s. Today, thanks to this silly show, I finally got to go there. Wasn’t disappointed either, although Mike did say when we first came around the corner that it was smaller than he’d expected. Maybe...but the detail work with all that colorful tile and crockery is way more fabulous!

Our guide was Zuylema Aguirre, the lady in charge of conservation, who pointed out the ladders Simon cleverly built into the spires to make construction easier, and his various barbecue pits and ground level decorations that often get overlooked. And yes, she say, he really did bury his old Hudson out back to fool the cops who wanted to speak with him about certain traffic indiscretions!

There’s an Arts Center onsite too, which furthers the notion that the towers still enrich the community--a place where kids can escape some of the harsh realities of life in these parts and fuel their imaginations.

And learn to recycle too--which takes us to today’s other main mission--finding the self-proclaimed 10th Wonder of the World. In case you didn’t know, it’s on 62nd St in south LA, at Lew & Diane Harris’ house. Or should I say it obscures, covers and dominates their house.

Lew was a truck driver, which gave him a chance to see just how much stuff industries around the city threw away. So for the last twenty five years, he and his sister have been hauling metal fans, turbines, pipe and more back to their yard as raw materials to make sculptures with.

“One piece at a time” he says. He’s even come up with his own kind of plastic--Lewcite, naturally. Diane and Lew sit out front 24/7 and wave to passersby, who can’t help but be amazed. In fact, one woman asked if it was OK to get out and look. When told that it was, she jumped out of the car, left it in the middle of the street, and proceeded to squeal her approval. Just another day at Harris Sculpture.

The rest of our time was spent gawking around Hollywood like the Midwesterners we are, and crawling in traffic, being glad we’re really the Midwesterners that we are. Oh, and a lady bus driver was very hostile at me, but I’ve already forgiven her...

Music in the van--”Celluloid Heroes” The Kinks

A toast to the Bottle Village

2006-09-25T11:10:00.001-05:00

Morro Bay was foggy when we awoke today. Couldn’t even see that big rock out in the water for awhile. Still, we jumped on the 101, then over to Highway 1 through Oceano, where a nursery/antiques store has some huge metallic dinosaurs sprinkled around the grounds. Turns out Bill, the owner, doesn’t actually make them, he just trucks them in to liven up the place. Oh well...

On the way down the Central Coast, we passed by Anderson’s Pea Soup empire (since 1924) in Buellton. Having just read an article in the Eureka, CA paper about our visit, which called him a co-producer-- Don suggested that Mike should go get some shots of the Anderson’s signs. He also mentioned he’s probably due for a raise!

After a tasty Indian buffet in Santa Barbara, and a near miss on a lane change (my bad), we gave ourselves over to the LA traffic gods, and headed on into Simi Valley.

No, not for the Reagan library-- for Grandma Prisbey’s Bottle Village, or what’s left of it. The Northridge earthquake in 1994 was not kind to the bottle buildings and decorative pieces that Tressa Prisbey built in a flurry of activity from 1955 to 1961. But Joanne Johnson rolled out the red carpet for us (one square anyway) and regaled us with stories of the woman she got to know in the last years of her life. A tidy, meticulous woman who didn’t herself drink, but made the most of colorful beer and liquor glass in her art.

Joanne’s volunteer squad, Kathryn and Drew, and her kids Sarah and Kathleen were also on hand with cookies and lemonade (just like Grandma P), tidying up the concrete work, tile and walkways. They’re doing it for all the right reasons, and we salute that spirit! We also noted the passing of Seymour Rosen, who played such a big role in making people aware of this and other important folk art sites. Thanks Seymour. Happy trails.

Music in the Van--I’m Good Now”-Bob Schneider, “Communique” Dire Straits, “Flying Cowboys” Rickie Lee Jones

Nittwits unite!

2006-09-24T11:07:00.001-05:00

San Simeon was William Randolph Hearst’s showplace, but Art Beal aka Captain Nittwit had a castle of his own just down the road in Cambria. We took the tour with Michael O’Malley, who never met the man, but loved his passion for building and creating a rambling nine level living complex almost wholly from junk.

Apparently Art was unpredictable in his behavior, and less than loved by all his neighbors. He sometimes yelled and cursed at the local kids, other times he’d let them come and enjoy his pathways and perches that snaked around the hillside. With auto parts, old appliances abalone shells and concrete, he fashioned a most memorable way of saying that he was here.

And we’re glad someone like Michael and his wife Stacey have stepped in to keep the ridge residence running. But we had to run on ourselves, down to the beach for some Pacific Coast catch! With Morro Rock in the background, we engaged in some of that impromptu recreation that can irritate viewers from sea to shining sea.

Oh yeah, San Luis Obispo is a pretty little town too. There were bands playing in several downtown bars that sounded pretty good. But we had a mission-- Bubble Gum Alley, which puts the Gum Tree we saw in D.C. to shame. It’s a block long two wall stretch of statements in chewing gum, which is both dazzling, and as Dawn who was passing through put it “really icky.” Of course, she and her friend Kristi ended up helping us post some Juicy Fruit for posterity too!

And finally, when in SLO, no visit is complete without a trip to the Madonna Inn’s men’s room. Waterfall urinals rule! And the pink decor and balls-to-the-wall over-decorating all around gave us an end of the day visual jolt par excellence. Tomorrow we head south, where fires are popping up like crazy. Wish us luck...

Music in the van--”Blue Train” John Coltrane

a garden of sub-earthly delights

2006-09-23T11:02:00.004-05:00

We left our unusually spacious motel rooms in Madera, heading for Clovis through fields of oranges and cotton, a combination we hadn’t expected to see. Nor did we expect to see so many folks in the vicinity of Festus--a statue, that is, honoring Ken Curtis, the actor who portrayed him on Gunsmoke for 13 years. (He apparently died suddenly after a day at the Clovis Rodeo.) Turns out the annual Clovis-Fest was going on downtown, and many, many people wanted to know “what channel we were with.” Highlights included a personal encounter for Mike with a giant Soft Serve, and for Don, sighting a ’63 Corvair Monza (the first car he owned.)

On our way to the famed Forestiere Gardens in nearby Fresno, we opted to get some long overdue car washing done--and who better to do it than trainees from the police academy? They said “sir” a lot, hosed the copious amount of bugs on our grille with no complaints, and even took our $10 donation in $2 bills as a training opportunity in the fraud division...

The amazing thing about the Forestiere Underground Gardens is that from above ground, you really have no idea they’re there. Hence the name. Baldasore Forestiere was a Sicilian immigrant who devised a whole way of digging out the rocky soil on his land to live a much cooler life in those pre-airconditioned days. There are 40 years worth of tunnels and walkways leading in countless directions, but somehow an amazing amount of light still penetrates, and trees and flowers grow. We took the tour courtesy of Andre, the builder’s brother’s grandson, and Andre’s mother, who you as you can see in the picture above, still knows a hottie when she sees one.

Heading back towards the coast, as our plan called for, takes you first through more fields of fruit, then into a petroleum-centric stretch near Coalinga, where a cluster of oil pumps have been artfully remade in animal form. That’s cool, but it’s kinda troubling when you approach to get a closer look at the cute giraffe, and the sign says DANGER, POSON GAS! We can take a hint...

We wrapped up with a trip down Cal Hwy 46, the same road where Donald Turnipseed and James Dean had their tragic meeting on September 30, 1955. A memorial stands at the Jack Ranch Cafe, but you can’t pee there without buying something, so Mike purchased some tasty homemade cookies to bribe his way in.

Thought you’d want to know.

Music in the van--”Too Long In the Wasteland” James McMurtry, “Has Been” William Shatner, “Long Gone Still” Uncle Tupelo

P.S. Don’s found money total so far--$1.25, 1 guitar pick, 4 marbles

Rubberbands, Racecars & the Future

2006-09-22T10:58:00.001-05:00

Imagine our excitement as we approached the Pride Suprette in San Francisco’s Mission District--the home of what’s purported to be the World’s Largest Rubber Band Ball. Well, OK, finding a parking place was really hard... and then Nabil, one of the two brothers who owns the place (and the ball) got a little testy about whether he oughta show it or not. I think “a million dollars” was mentioned at one point. But eventually, fast talking TV Weasel Mike convinced him to put aside his hatred of the Chiefs (like we care) and give us a look before “his crabby brother” Salim got to work.

What can we say? It was magnificent, sitting there in its top secret location (not far from the chips) and even better when paired with our own World Record holding ball o’ tape. Granted, it’s nowhere near as large as theirs, but we do still haul ours around in a van, so throw us a bone here, OK?

Our escape from dense urban lands took us down 101 to Millbrae, just south of the airport. Stephen Powers lives there, not terribly far from where he grew up as a baby boomer immersed in the magical world of TV and technology. His early artistic pursuits fell prey to the need to make a living, but eventually he started painting again--bright, colorful works that imagine buildings and potential inventions that the future may yet bring. Some are fairly apocalyptic, some harken back to “Lost In Space” and Spielbergiana. Stephen also likes slot cars, which he gleefully raced for awhile with Mike--quite fitting since Mr. Murphy never gets to drive the real thing!

A tasty Vietnamese lunch set the scene for our final stop of the day, or what was supposed to be, anyway--Axel Erlandon’s Circus Trees at Bonfante Gardens. Only when we got there, the wheels of PR ground to a halt. Nobody could be found who would say we were theme park certified. At least, Don did get to try out their facilities, and reports they’re just fine. No pictures, please.

Which left us scrambling for one last gasp before daylight was completely done--the last Mammoth Orange stand, a fabled big round orange burgerteria near Chowchilla. We beat sundown by about forty seconds, said approximately six witty things about Orange Julius, and decided we’d had enough. Viewers are almost sure to agree.

Music in the Van-”Magic Time” Van Morrison, “Failer” Kathleen Edwards, the most recent Rolling Stones (it’s late and I can’t remember the name)

Making the Kansas Connection in SF

2006-09-21T10:56:00.002-05:00

On the left, Shawnee Mission East ’69 graduate Don the Camera Guy Mayberger, on the right SM West ‘71’s Ron Hengelaar. We came to see Ron’s incredible collection of San Francisco memorabilia at his giant old Victorian home on Fulton Avenue. He lives at the top of it, with a stunning “round room” view of the city, which as he pointed out, was where you could have watched it all burn back in 1906.

Debris from the quake, old bricks and chains, and countless pieces of settlements dating back to the Gold Rush and Civil War days somehow find their way into Ron’s collection. Then he puts them on his walls in assemblages, onto a huge tower in the yard, or in many cases, into the hundreds of one gallon olive and maraschino cherry jars that he brings home from his job as a waiter. He makes headdresses for those jars, and then they take up residence in the attic or wherever he can find a place to store them. Wow!

Ron’s an incredible fount of knowledge about this place (he has 3400 books on the city) and a fine photographer too. We reminisced about his KU days and concerts in Volcker Park, then tried to leave without one of our tripods. Ron may have been tempted to “preserve” it, but his good midwestern manners won out, and we left with all the gear we brought in.

After a few navigational mishaps, we found our way to Cayuga Park, a small greenspace on the city’s southern edge. The BART runs above one corner of it, and in the rest, a city worker named Demi Braceros has fashioned a whole ‘nother world of lush plantings, whimsical carvings he makes from downed trees, and jungle-like nature trails that wind in and around the perimeter. He wanted to show people that good things can happen, and took it upon himself to make the park a showplace. It shows! We only wish that whatever strange electrical impulses were flying around down there would take a rest. Our mikes were fritzing right and left, but Demi was a good sport, and let us try every trick we knew. Finally, we decided that the pictures tell the tale pretty well. Cayuga is a very cool place.

Dr. Bailey, we presume

2006-09-20T08:37:00.000-05:00

Science lessons were flying faster than our little brains could handle today, thanks to Clayton Bailey, the Mad Scientist of Port Costa. These days he’s best known for his shiny junk-metal robots, which cluster around him in the studio, along with the space guns and jaw’s harps which he also plays.

In a previous lifetime Clayton was trained to make ceramics. He still does that too, including gargoyles that rise above the fence to shoe intruders away, though he admits they actually work more as “bait.’

We learned from him that old issues of Mad Magazine were a big inspiration in bringing about this sprawling complex of art and mock archaeology. There’s a Bigfoot dig pit, and plenty of errant robots on the roof, in the yard and hiding amidst the prickly pears.

In fact, Mike snagged some nice ripe figs to add to our California fruit collection, leading us to admit that the show’s really just an excuse for me to weasel coffee while he snags piemaking ingredients. Big Ball T-Shirts were left behind to commemorate the occasion,and we headed on to San Francisco itself, to meet a man who’s been very helpful in finding good stops for this trip, John Turner.

John’s a TV guy himself, a producer/editor at the ABC affiliate, and writes about outsider art for Raw Vision and other fine publications. He introduced us to his co-worker Cheryl, who then joined in some impromptu street catch with one of our handy guest gloves.

As the day was about to end, we wandered out to the bay for a look at Alcatraz and a session at the Wave Organ. It’s an installation of old cemetery stonework and pipes that jut out into the water, and, in theory, transmit beautiful sound back to zenned-out listeners. This is one we’ll have to fix in post.

Music in the van- “Flying Burrito Brothers Greatest Hits” Don’s Backpacker version of “Shakin’ All Over.”

The reluctant barker

2006-09-19T08:34:00.002-05:00

Who is that man? And why is he pointing a cane at us? That’s no man, that’s a genius in a bowler named Ernie Fosselius. The name might sound familiar to fans of his cult movie from the late 70s, “Hardware Wars.” Ernie was an early Sesame Street animator and indy filmmaker who’s turned to working in wacky ways with a much lower tech material--wood. Not just carvings, but mechanically moving pieces that are almost like little movies in themselves. “I like the characters” he says, and then he puts them into play.

Play that includes a bicycle powered “Crankabout” that can be parked and folded out to display a dozen or so of his wooden automata. Then, as a piece of street theater, Ernie in the guise of the Reluctant Barker (he made the name up while talking to us) sheepishly implores folks to come turn the gears and enjoy the show.

Is it profitable? Not exactly, but he has lots of fun doing it, and watching the way people react...much more immediately than in films, where as he puts it, “you tell a joke, and three years later, hear people laugh.”

There was plenty of laughter all day at Ernie’s place in Sebastapol, not the least of which came during some dueling Walter Brennans with Don the Camera Guy. And his political puppet theater is something else to behold. And his wedding cake toppers. And the wine stoppers...and miniature yachts driven by rats...well, you get the idea. Ernie is a hoot and a half. And on Talk Like a Pirate Day at that!

We Thaid out at a local restaurant with Ernie and his companion Ruth, then headed for Bodega Bay. Windy as all get out, but we still ran and shrieked like Tippi Hedren down the beach a few times and called it good. To the Bay Area in the morn!

Music in the van--”Rubber Soul”, Jacksonville Nights”--Ryan Adams

all eyes on florence avenue

2006-09-18T08:31:00.002-05:00

Still very hot and dry in north central California. You feel like one match, and it would all go up in flames! Luckily, it didn’t, and we got to see Litto Damonte’s Hubcap Ranch in an isolated pocket of wine country near Pope Valley. The road’s still winds around, but a whole lot less than when Litto first started collecting the shiny wheelcovers that would pop off cars coming past his place. He’d put them on the fence for folks to retrieve, but instead they just brought him more, and more, and more...

Litto loved the socializing opportunities that being a folk art environment brought his way, and now his grandson Mike is carrying the tradition on. Mike’s wife Shannon showed us around, and another grandson, Dan, reminisced about how Litto would art direct while the kids did the work, with his cane as a motivator!

We think this is good fro Don to hear...

More hilly driving followed, then we lunched in Calistoga, but declined numerous chances for mud baths and healing waters. No sooner had we reached Sebastapol, when we spotted one of Patrick Amiot’s big junk metal sculptures--a cow in a field of, well, cows. Many more are sprinkled around this funky little town that he settled in after migrating down from Canada and up from LA.

Florence Avenue, i.e. the street where Patrick lives, is chock full of metalworks in almost every yard--from Batman to a soccer player, a farmer, a fireman, biker and surfing girl, not to mention some that are just plain wild and silly. And they’re drawing lots of attention, nearly all positive. Patrick’s a busy guy these days, and was only going to give us an hour, but then the talk turned to hockey (hey, he’s Canadian), fabulous self-taught artists (we’ve met quite a few) and the merits of Starbucks vs mom & pop coffeeshops (we agreed to disagree.) Next thing you know, it’s three hours later, and he’s wearing a Big Ball T-Shirt. You know, I think he even posed for a picture or two. Thanks Patrick. Now get back to work!

Music in the van--new Allison Moorer, Rolling Stones Starbucks “Favorites” Collection, new Tom Petty

Colossus yes, e-coli no

2006-09-17T08:27:00.002-05:00

All of a sudden, that spinach salad we ate the other day doesn’t seem like such a good idea! But other than the phlegmy remnants of colds that Mike and Don are lugging around California, we’re doing alright. And after moving inland quite a ways on some tight and windy roads, we emerged in Auburn,a pretty little town on the edge of the Sierra Nevadas.

We were drawn by giant concrete sculptures that a dentist named Dr. Ken Fox has been making for almost 40 years. The tallest is 42 feet, and very naked, as are several other of the graceful behemoths he has standing out front of his office. At age 81, he still sees patients two days a week, and makes all kinds of art, some of which shares storage space with vintage dental machines.

The Chinese laborer above, which he made to honor the work that was done to build the railroads, now sits out front of the Chamber of Commerce offices. And another, a gold miner with plenty of clothing, pans a bit at the edge of Auburn’s charming Old Town.

“Your floss is my loss” he told us, but being the TV Weasels we are, we still snagged a free toothbrush for the road. After lunching on some tasty Mexican food, the scenic drive down Highway 49 led past a fence full o’ boots which sounded better on paper than it actually was. Nearby Placerville, which Don recalled being mentioned in a John Stewart song(the musician, not Comedy Central guy), was teeming with tourists, which for the few moments that it took to grab beverages, included us.

We couldn’t resist stopping in Sacramento to see if Gov. Schwarznegger would grab a guest glove and play catch, but all our bellowing on the front lawn was to no avail. And didn’t get us killed either, although a passing train almost did the trick a few blocks later! Don’t ask.

In Davis, we tried to see where the town toads have had their own tunnel built to cross the road, but man, oh man, that’s pretty hard to show. None were anywhere to be seen. And dry, this part of the state is frighteningly crispy underfoot. Salads may be the least of our worries.

Music in the van--”Long Black Cadillac”--Rosanne Cash, “California Bloodlines”--John Stewart, “Bob Dylan XM Radio Baseball Theme Hour

Reuben of Redway

2006-09-16T08:26:00.001-05:00

Ferndale was first on the agenda today, the Victorian village where the great Kinetic Race finishes up each Memorial Day weekend. Stan Bennett, who makes kinetic marble sculptures in the back of the local museum was a participant in the earliest days of the race. He spoke of Ferndale as being kinda like Brigadoon, a place that time pretty much forgot, and artists descended upon, though many have now moved on.

We did too, dropping back into the Avenue of the Giants, for some serious redwood tourist action. Our plan to enjoy the Drive-Thru Tree was thwarted though, by our taller than 7’ roof rack. But a friendly couple in a white sedan let Don hop in back for a roadside thrill none of them will soon forget. “Hey, pipe down in back...”

The real mission for the day was to find Reuben Sorensen in Redway. He’s a Wisconsinite who hoboed around for years and ended up in Humboldt County. Reuben paints from visions that give him the images from which to begin. He’s made are hundreds of small papier mache cars that form a freeway perimeter (though he’s never driven), paintings of basketball and baseball players sans heads (“can’t draw faces well”), and a whole series of adventures centered around a mysterious red box and “headwrapping school”. Oh, and Scrabble-styled letter arrays that scream to be deciphered even when they can’t.

Reuben went to considerable trouble to pull things out of storage and display them for us in and around the yard. And his friend Katie served up huge mugs of hot coffee, fruit and desserts, though somehow the luscious looking cheesecake never quite made it to the camera guy’s mouth! We’re still hearing about that one...

Today’s music in the van-”Neko Case”,”Por la Vida”--Tribute to Alejandro Escovedo, Best of Simon & Garfunkel, Johnny Cash “American V”, “I Believe to My Soul” Soul Music Sampler

Kinetic and kinda frenetic

2006-09-15T08:21:00.001-05:00

A day in Eureka can be pretty enervating. That’s what we discovered anyway, with a first-thing-in-the morning visit to see what remains of Romano Gabriel’s garden. RG was an Italian emigrant who created what can only be called a top tier folk art environment in his yard, completely obscuring the small home he lived in with wooden flowers and figures that he built from old grocery crates. After his death in 1977, the city managed to move most of the pieces to a glass-cased display in Old Town Eureka. Kind of a cross between a department store window and museum conditions. (Don’t ask ‘em what happened to his hat!) Anyway, the townsfolk were most accommodating, and a reporter from the local paper came around too. Do we follow a script, she asked, which brought the requisite laughter, and hopefully some good press.

Then it was a short journey to a place called The Studio, where developmentally disabled adults learn to use art as a way of expressing themselves. The sign says ‘visionary” artists, and the results bear that out, especially in Bette Kuehnele’s “buffets”--food that’s both painted in a wonderful series of “still lifes” and rendered colorfully in ceramics. The program’s been going for ten years under the supervision of Kristi Patterson, and remdinded us of GRACE in Vermont, without the funny accents!

And finally, though Duane “the most entertaining man in California” Flatmo stood us up, Ken Bierman delivered on his promise to show off the world-famous Kinetic Lab in Arcata.

That’s his “Flash Gourd’n” bike pictured above, one of last year’s entries in the annual Arcata to Ferndale Kinetic Race. Ken’s a 5 time winner in that Lost Coast mechanical adventure, which calls for vehicles that can navigate with pedal power on land, sand and water, up hills and over dunes. These guys are crazed, and deliver big on both art and engineering. Rumor is they know how to party too!

A slightly overexcited Big Ball almost sent Ken to the ER, but he’s clearly a pretty tough character, and ultimately emerged from our visit unscathed.

Though we were invited for post-show beers at the Lost Coast Brewery, our prime ale tipper, Don, was starting to catch the coastal crud, and we declined. Rest is in order if we’re going to see more redwoods and art tomorrow.

royal tree-tment

2006-09-14T08:18:00.001-05:00

Well, look at this. The TV Weasels are still on the loose. And looking down on the world from up above for a change! That’s Mike showing his complete command of heights at the Out ‘N About Treehouse Resort outside Takilma, OR. As the name implies, its owner Michael Garnier has, as he put it, “found a way to make a living doing something fun.” He’s built a series of treehouses around the property, ranging from romantic little passion perches to a split-level Swiss Family Treehouse. He’s also got horses, a stream fed swimming pool and zip lines for racing through the trees at breakneck speed. Score one for “Strap Me In & Let Me Go” Murphy there too!

All this action actually occurred yesterday, as did a visit to the giant Caveman and Cowboy Corral Muffler Man in Grant’s Pass, but computer issues put the kabosh on this overdue blog--until now.

Today also turned out to be quite tree-centric, with a trip down scenic 101 into northern California that detoured into a redwood grove near Klamath for what else--some quick forest catch. When the ball rolled into the woods, we expected Bigfoot might toss it back, but no go. The awesome beauty of those ancient giants kept our wise-cracking to a minimum. However, the talking Paul Bunyan at the entrance to the cheezmoriffic “Trees of Wonder” was another story. As Babes go, his blue companion was quite well-endowed!

Don had a terrific veggie-laden lunch in Arcata at the Daybreak Cafe. Who says we’re not treating the geezer good? Tomorrow’s a big day, with much art and adventure in Eureka. Stay tuned!

5000 miles and not a drop of rain

2006-05-21T08:14:00.002-05:00

Ok, that’s not completely true. We caught a short shower on the way out of Kansas, a bit o’ misting in the Cascades one night, and about five minutes of light rain today (with a great rainbow on the side.) Are you kidding? On a two week trip to the Pacific Northwest! Are we the luckiest weasels ever or what? Not a single shoot had to be changed due to weather, though Don still wishes we’d waited to do Dick and Jane til the next morning because of that whipping Ellensburg wind. And of all things, we actually got hot and sweaty a couple days in Washington and Oregon due to record-setting temps.

Things went wonderfully well, and once again, the trip’s been a satisfying reminder that creative people and idiosyncratic urges still have a place in this world. Corporations don’t own everything, and some people don’t wait for committees to make their decisions! And that’s pretty fun!

After a long day’s drive, Chinese food in Utah, plenty of crappy snacks and bad coffee, we’re back to Denver for the night. This is the last of the blogging for now, I’m going to bed! See you on TV...

—RMason for Mike, Don and the Big Ball

Musical highlights--the new Paul Simon, “Gold”--Ryan Adams, Beatles Anthology 1&2, “Shout, Sister, Shout--Tribute to Sister Rosetta Thorpe”

On the farm (s) with rasmus and gene

2006-05-20T08:10:00.002-05:00

That would be the Petersen Rock Gardens pictured above--the 17 year masterwork of a Danish farmer named Rasmus Peterson a few miles outside Redmond, OR. In some respects very similar to other rock gardens we’ve seen, but spread out liberally around his acreage, and even out into the parking lot! His granddaughter Sue runs the place now, with help from her husband George (he does the repairs) and a flock of n very noisy peacocks. Lots of water involved here too, with bridges and walkways, pools and falls. Years ago they sold Viewmaster slides in the gift shop, but alas, no more...

The other “agricultural” site is a few miles closer to Bend--the Funny Farm. Gene, the owner, sells antiques and collectables (Don bought a Supremes album and Alaska commemorative plate) in a ramshackle shop with a giant Yellow Sub totem outside. There’s an Agitator Wall, a Bowling Ball Garden, the Love Pond, and plenty of homage to the Wizard of Oz sprinkled around the grounds. His rainbow job on the barn roof caused quite a stir at first, but in that case at least, Gene fought the law, and the fun won!

We toasted our final day of shooting with another round at Starbucks, bought the new Eric Clapton CD and a NY Times and started heading for home.

Musical highlights--The Best of John Hiatt, Nnenna Freelon’s Bille Holiday Tribute,“Transcendental Blues”--Steve Earle, John Hartford Live

Man of many modes

2006-05-19T18:40:00.000-05:00

Bomber Gas in Milwaukie, OR is quite the local landmark. At first, the big B-17 hung over some gas pumps in this small town south of Portland. Then the owners turned to food, and that’s what the place is known for today. Since we’d already stuffed ourselves on complimentary hotel breakfast fare, we grabbed our gloves and threw a few under the fuselage.

But before we could even break free of Milwaukie, honorary producer de jour Don spotted a Lady Liberty peeking out over a strip mall. A fiberglass replica mounted on a big stone pedestal in the parking lot shared by several car repair facilities. Turns out Matthew and Chris, two brothers from Iran wanted to say “thanks” for the chance to prosper, and chose what for various reasons turned out to be a half million dollar way to do it!

Two and a half driving hours later found us at the beach. Newport to be exact, meeting up with our Northwest tipster and “Raw Vision” writer Eliza Murphy. She led us to Rick Bartow’s home and art complex out on the bay--land owned by his family for several generations. Rick’s a Wiot tribal member, sober for 26 years, and thrilled that he can make art for a living. Art that draws from nature and certain Native American symbologies, but wanders into areas (some of them pretty dark) that are all his own. There’s painting, drawing, ceramics, sculpting and printmaking going on out here, and he plays in a blues band too. Another in our series of guys who don’t ever seem to stop. But eventually we did, knowing that a drive back across the mountains awaited. Through the mist, with darkness falling, we oohed, aahed and held our breath while the Ford Freestar safely carried us to the High Desert on the other side.

Musical highlights--New Neil Young, “Goodbye”--Cream, “Poison Love”--Buddy Miller, “Making Movies”--Dire Straits, the new Paul McCartney (sorry about the breakup)