The “Only in America” Tour—Part 1

What do the world’s largest pistachio statue, a town decorated with UFOs, and a toilet seat museum have in common?  You can find them only in America.  Ours is the land of the freakish and the home of the bravado.

My friend Thea and I share a common love of the quirky.  When she invited me to join her on a road trip across America, I immediately jumped on my favorite travel websites—Atlas Obscura and Roadside America—to find some unusual attractions.  We discovered that dotted across Texas and New Mexico was a ring of oddities, which my buddy dubbed “The Hub of Weird.”

Thea and I have been friends for 37 years. (I’d like to say we met as babes in the nursery, and so we’re still young chicks; but alas, we waited to bond in college, and now we’re both pushing 29.)  A long-lasting friendship is no small thing, we agreed, and it was worth celebrating:  any excuse for a road trip will do.  At this point in my life, I’d rather collect fun moments than stuff.  Well, okay, maybe a little stuff—I admit as I sew on another travel patch—but mostly moments.

We found cheap seats on a roundtrip flight from Thea’s home in Washington, D.C., to Dallas, Texas.  As you can see on the map insert, we began in Dallas, traveled through Waco down to Austin, and then circled up in a clockwise direction through Marfa, El Paso, Roswell, and Amarillo, to finish our trip back in Dallas.  When we first arrived in the Dallas-Fort Worth Airport, we went to pick up our rental car, which we expected, for the price, to be the size of a clown cabby.

The rental car agent who served us had an accent and an uncommon name on his badge.  I took a chance and greeted him in Arabic.  Bingo!  He lit up like the Olympic cauldron.  When I also pronounced his name correctly and successfully guessed his mother country, he was ready to award me a gold medal.  Instead, he upgraded us to a brand-new Mercedes-Benz!  Neither Thea nor I had ever driven such a fancy car, but why not?  How hard could it be?

We rolled our baggage out to the parking garage and loaded Cinderella’s carriage.  Once inside, we beheld a computerized dashboard worthy of an airplane cockpit.  (Remember that at home I am still driving a 2005 Nissan from the Stone Age.)  I opened the glove box and pulled out the owner’s manual, which was as thick as a city phone book, another dinosaur from my youth.

I flipped to the section on air-conditioning—it was soaring in the 100s—and we started trying to program some cool air flow.  But perspiration continued to flow.  After about 45 minutes with no success, Thea and I agreed that we were in over our heads and wringing wet.  We returned to our kind rental car agent and asked him to give us something with buttons and knobs that we could manage.  There is wisdom in knowing one’s limitations.

We finally rolled into Dallas and were greeted by a panhandler wearing a cardboard sign that read: “Why lie? I want beer money.”  That was a first.  While we applauded the man’s honesty, we couldn’t support his addiction.  But I was struck by the realization that oddities abound everywhere if you have eyes to see them.

Speaking of eyes, we soon spotted a 30-foot fiberglass eyeball on Main Street.  It was created back in 2007 by Chicago-based artist Tony Tacit as a replica of his own eye.  It’s been sitting on a grassy lawn in Dallas since 2013.  The land belongs to billionaire Tim Headington, who is also the owner of the Joule Hotel across the street.

According to legend, Headington planned to build a parking garage for his hotel on the site, but his proposal was rejected. Neighbors complained that such a garage would be a big eyesore.  In response, Headington purchased Tacit’s ocular creation and installed a big sore eye.  Only in America.

Every journey has three stages:  the anticipation, the experience, and the remembrance.  I began planning this trip last summer, so Thea and I had an entire year to look forward to it.  I like to keep something good on the horizon; daydreaming about it relieves those inevitable moments of boredom or frustration.

Eventually, my friend and I enjoyed the actual ten, action-packed days on the road. Afterwards, we made photo books and began to reminisce.  Long will we remember and laugh about these unusual sights.  And in the months to come, I hope to share our adventures on this blog in a new series I call The “Only in America” Tour.  So, saddle up your horses!

 

 

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