diese parade ist gut, ya...

So many weekends, so little time. You know how it is, your company fucks you over for five years, then sends you packing. You spend those five years giving up precious weekends for a 4 day work week. You don't want to think about all the places and events you've missed (they occurred on weekends, you see). Did I mention that the four day work week took place on the weekends (Thursday through Sunday)? Needless to say I have a lot of weekend party time to make up for.

Let's begin.


May 6, 2006: A little something called the art car parade takes place in Eureka Springs, Arkansas. I know, I'd never heard of it either. But hang in there things are about to get interesting.
So anyway, here we were the wife and I, hanging out on a Saturday in Eureka for the sole purpose of seeing a yellow submarine.

Wait, wait, wait, I seem to have started somewhere in the middle of the beginning of this post. Let's back up, almost two months up. (Hint, I was still employed). Keep backing, almost there. Okay, that's far enough. I'm at work, being the good little slave when the wife calls. She is, oh just, I don't know, excited a tad? Yeah, that's it. Excited. Here I was at work and she's out in the world excited to beat the band.

Truthfully, it was only Fayetteville and there was no band (I think).

But she was excited. At first I couldn't understand what the hell she was talking about. She kept saying a yellow submarine, yellow submarine. A yellow submarine? WTF? Finally after she stopped laughing about it she got out this: "I'm at Walmart and there is a yellow submarine car in the parking lot!" Yeah, she's smoking something at this point. I'm like, "Oooookayy, what are you talking about?"
She proceeds to tell me about this late model Olds Cutlass Ciera that is decked out, I kid you not, as the Yellow Submarine. It has portholes painted on the side and bubbles going out the back. There are pipes coming out from the top and Beatles regalia everywhere.

Fucking awesome and then some.

So the wife, being the adoring fan of all things funk, leaves a note on the windshield with her cell # telling the owner how much she thinks the car rocks and wants to know more about it.

Alright kiddies, lets go forward again to three weeks ago. Ready? Okay, just a little farther and...Stop!

We're home and her phone rings, it's the car guy. This is cool, heh:) The wife suggests we all get together for dinner some night and car guy (aka- Gary) says, "Well, I'm going to be in Eureka Springs this weekend, my car is one of the entries in the Art Car Parade, we could meet up there."

Perfect.

We arrive in Eureka during what has to be the longest downpour in history, second only to the Great Flood. Although I did see some bird with what looked suspiciously like an olive branch in its beak. Not knowing where Captain Gary is, wife calls him. We are directed to a hole-in-the-wall joint called the Pied Piper (which by the way, has the most awesome fish and chips platter). Now, remember we have never met this man but it is immediately apparent which one he is. Audience? The man in the skipper's hat. Of course. He and his merry crew are commencing with lunch, which we are obliged to partake in. Cue plug for the fish and chips! Gary informs us that the parade of Art Cars begins at 4:00 pm and we have time to wander the streets, see the sights, look like drenched rats. Oh, and yes peruse the parking lot full of funked out vehicles!

First up, the car of the hour and what started this whole adventure, The Yellow Submarine. It is a 90's model Olds Cutlass Ciera that looks like it had been attacked by a drove of backroad bandits brandishing the many shades of yellow and putting it to use for their own sick pleasure. The car, folks, has pipes coming out of the roof and a fin bolted to the trunk. Lest I forget, there is also a spoked ship's wheel attached to the steering wheel. Fun on a first date? You betcha! More interesting than a first date? Hmmm...

After we have walked around this homage to the Beatles, it's on to the other works of art on display. There is the Hillbilly Car built by Pam and Rich from Nebraska. Picture the Clampett's without Grannie riding shotgun on the roof (although it was mentioned how great it would be if they did tie some relative to the top). Then, meet Renaga and his Chick Magnet. He has not only one weird car but also holds the Guinness Record for World's Largest Windchimes. How cool is that? Gary's friend Phil has a Chevy van bedecked in toys from front to back. He calls it the Chariot of Desire. Trolls, dollheads, you name it. It all adds up to one bitchin' van!

It's getting close to time for the parade and Gary asks us if we would like to ride in the car with him? Um, yeah, Gar, that would be ok with us. Silly skipper, thought he had to ask.

Up the hill to the Crescent Hotel we go, lining up in the rain. Yes, it's still raining. The animals are suspiciously pairing off.

We start down the hill all smiles and wrinkled fingers waving at the crowd. It's a small crowd but very enthusiastic :) We wind up parking back at the Pied Piper for drinks. Second cue the plug for the fish and chips!

After a round of our poison of choice, hunger sets in with a vengeance. We head over to indulge ourselves on some local Latin flavor at Caribe! and do our best to offend some of the other patrons with our antics of art car silliness that evening. As the alcohol is poured liberally over us the darker side of some begins to come out. It is generally held that men should not play with dolls, well this night I was almost positive of it. There was a poor defenseless Barbie among us who went from being only slightly immoral at the beginning of the night to a complete and utter dime store tramp by the end. The stories we told on that woman would shame a New York cabbie to church. I think she ended up with at least one or more STD's. Pretty impressive for a chick made out of plastic. When we couldn't stick a penlight up her butt, off came her head! She was lit up like a Gloworm at bedtime and we were receiving several looks of disdain from other diners. They just didn't know how to have any real fun.

The closer of the evening occurred at a side-street bar with Reggae accompaniment. The band was pretty good once the feedback ended. Dancing was inspired by the tunes and it was great fun watching from the upper tier bar. Both my left feet were at home, thankfully. It is not pretty folks, trust me. The wife and I took off afterwards, thanking Gary for showing us a hell of a time and for having us ride with him in the parade.

Everybody we met that day was extremely cool and I am so glad to have had the opportunity to spend an afternoon with them.

Anyone know a good way to turn a Saturn sedan into a planet?