W
wonderwench
Guest
Well, a bit far off the road, but worth the extra distance.
Just like the tic-tac-toe playing chicken or the World's largest Cheet-Oh, the Toilet Seat Art Museum should be a must on any long distance road trip.
Barney Smith does not know where his wife's gallstones are. He knows they were extracted a few years ago, and he thinks they float in a jar of murky liquid somewhere in the Smiths' home. But his wife, Velma Louise, won't say a word about their location.
"She's got them hid in the house," Smith said. "She knew where they'd wind up whenever I ran across them."
The elusive gallstones, Smith explained, would have ended up affixed to a toilet seat lid titled "Surgery," one of hundreds of such lids the 82-year-old has adorned and hung in his corrugated metal garage -- or, as Smith has christened it, his Toilet Seat Art Museum.
Since retiring as a plumber 32 years ago, Smith has produced 677 of the fanciful seats, which now pack the museum's walls from floor to ceiling. The work has placed him at the forefront of the lonely field of toilet seat art and made the museum, in its quiet residential neighborhood, a far-off-the-roadside attraction that draws about 1,000 curious visitors each year.
Smith, who is small, white-haired and garrulous, has a pat answer for those who wonder why he chose toilet seats as his canvas.
"Since I was a master plumber, I wanted to stick with my trade," he said. (more)
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A57327-2004Jan5.html
Just like the tic-tac-toe playing chicken or the World's largest Cheet-Oh, the Toilet Seat Art Museum should be a must on any long distance road trip.
Barney Smith does not know where his wife's gallstones are. He knows they were extracted a few years ago, and he thinks they float in a jar of murky liquid somewhere in the Smiths' home. But his wife, Velma Louise, won't say a word about their location.
"She's got them hid in the house," Smith said. "She knew where they'd wind up whenever I ran across them."
The elusive gallstones, Smith explained, would have ended up affixed to a toilet seat lid titled "Surgery," one of hundreds of such lids the 82-year-old has adorned and hung in his corrugated metal garage -- or, as Smith has christened it, his Toilet Seat Art Museum.
Since retiring as a plumber 32 years ago, Smith has produced 677 of the fanciful seats, which now pack the museum's walls from floor to ceiling. The work has placed him at the forefront of the lonely field of toilet seat art and made the museum, in its quiet residential neighborhood, a far-off-the-roadside attraction that draws about 1,000 curious visitors each year.
Smith, who is small, white-haired and garrulous, has a pat answer for those who wonder why he chose toilet seats as his canvas.
"Since I was a master plumber, I wanted to stick with my trade," he said. (more)
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A57327-2004Jan5.html
:
