Arkansas: The Really Gross Bugs Smeared on Your Windshield State
Originally published at Route 96. You can comment here or there.
We toyed with the idea of doing a Bill Clinton tour of Little Rock’s seamier bordellos and fast food restaurants, but the city just didn’t grab us. Sorry, Bubba, Democrats just aren’t as kitschy as Republicans (see our visit to Bob Dole’s home town of Russell, Kansas, still ahead). Besides, we were already hearing the call of the Ozarks, Arkansas’ backwoods hill country. Drawn by fabulous rumors of a giant statue of Jesus and a museum devoted entirely to frogs, we forged far from the interstate where the hills rise wild. It was a gorgeous, if sticky, drive–something seemed to be wrong with Brown Jenkin’s air conditioner–all twisty roads and wooded hills and armadillo innards glistening on the blacktop.
Somewhere in the hill country between Pickles Gap (”home of barbecue fudge”), Dogpatch (of Li’l Abner “fame”), and St. Joe, we saw a little wooden sign on the side of the road that said “THINGS: Museum of Science Fiction and Movie Memorabilia,” with a bunch of tentacles coming off the word “THINGS.” Weirdness radar pinging, we squealed Jenkin around at the conveniently-located metropolis of Circle Drive (”Population: 3,” according to a helpful marker) and backtracked to check it out. At the end of a dirt driveway were: a trailer home, a little shack house, a satellite dish, a trampoline, and a General Lee-esque late model muscle car. Oh, and a big burly guy in a sweat-stained T-shirt and jeans.