Baby, what a big surprise: The giant baby of Goodyear, Arizona

On 2,000 acres of land off Interstate 10 West in Goodyear, Arizona sits a big baby. A really big baby, in fact, 20 feet tall and delightedly playing with a life-sized tractor driven by a headless farmer. It's all the result of a collaboration between Arnott and Kathleen Duncan of Duncan Farms and artist John Cerney, whom they commissioned to create the giant cardboard and plywood infant in 1998. Originally, the baby was joined by other cardboard figures of a larger than life, but not as large as the baby, tractor, and two regular-sized adults trying to coral their huge offspring to play nice with Mr. Farmer Man's pretty tractor. The artworks were originally part of Duncan's vegetable farm and petting zoo, but a local ordinance soon prevented them from operating these businesses on the property, so the field by the highway has remained barren since 2001. Barren, that is, except for the giant baby. The two adults and the separate tractor depictions are now gone but apparently the baby still remains, as it did in 2010 when we snapped these pictures, surrealistically delighting highway commuters. Just down the road stand Cerney's over-sized depictions of two adults carrying produce. To my mind all of these are great works of art, very much in the vein of Pop artist James Rosenquist. Or to quote the great Peter Frampton, "Ooh, baby I love your way".

How I met your Mother Road: Route 66 in Williams, Arizona

When we visited the Grand Canyon last May, we stayed in nearby Williams, Arizona on the road all other roads aspire to be, Route 66. You don't have to be an eccentric roadside attraction fan to appreciate how awesome Route 66 is, and Williams has some outstanding examples of Mother Road architecture. There was some glorious early evening sun when we were there, causing yesteryear's storefronts, motels and restaurants to look even more western and melancholy. I'd love to spend a year traveling up and down 66 (you listening, Powerball?). Won't you get hip to this timely tip: when you make that California trip, get your kicks on Route 66.

No basses, in fact: Tuba City, Arizona

My old tuba teacher Tucker has this outside his office door at the University of Akron. I always thought God played the bass clarinet.

You can order this fine framed print from Cafe Press. Makes a great present for friends and loved-ones.

As a former tuba player (1972-1988), I took great interest in the fact that if we planned it just right, we could pass through the town of Tuba City, Arizona on our way from the Grand Canyon to Four Corners on our last trip. Would there be tuba concertos blasting from the taverns and concert halls? Would there be statues on the town green of Wilhelm Friedrich Wieprecht and Carl Moritz, who, in 1835, were granted a patent for their Berlinpumpen tuba? Would the gift shops be bursting with chocolate tubas, nerf tubas and tuba toothpaste?

Well, no.

It seems Tuba City gets its name from Tuuvi, the great Hopi leader from Oraibi in today's Arizona. Seems Tuuvi City was too much of a mouthful so it became Tuba City when it was named by the Mormons in 1872. Kinda like Paul McCartney making "Hey Jules" into "Hey Jude". So, while there is an abundant amount of Hopi art and artifacts, there's nary a brass bass horn in sight. Not even a fiberglass Sousaphone.

And if all this is putting you in the mood to hear a little tuba music, and who needs an excuse for that, then check out this link from the International Tuba Day people. If you ask me, every day is Tuba Day.

A bridge too far: London Bridge of Lake Havasu City, Arizona

For the record, London Bridge isn't falling down at all.

Aloha, Gov'nor: Hawaiian shaved ice at London Bridge in Arizona

Thames the breaks: Beautiful Lake Havasu

A lot of people think this is London Bridge, but it's actually Tower Bridge and it's still back in merrie old England.

So you're trying to develop an off-the-beaten-track area of Arizona into a desirable retirement community at the same time the city of London, England is replacing it's iconic but worn out London Bridge. Hmmm...

London Bridge, originally constructed in London in 1831 and stretching across the River Thames, has resided in the southwestern Arizona town of Lake Havasu City since 1971. Not structurally sound enough to carry the weight of its busy London traffic load, it was put on the market and sold to American entrepreneur Robert P. McCulloch in 1968 for $2,460,000. The bridge was then taken apart and each brick was numbered so it could be shipped and reassembled in Arizona as a tourist attraction. The bridge was rebuilt over the canal that connects Lake Havasu and Thompson Bay and was rededicated (with no less than Bonanza's Lorne Greene present) in 1971 as the centerpiece of an England-themed village. Some reports say it is now Arizona's second most visited tourist attraction after the Grand Canyon.

We were there in 2004 on a blistering 110-degree day, so we didn't do much hanging around. I wish I had taken more pictures but I suppose that's just water under the bridge now.

Yours Truly: Tucson, Arizona's Truly Nolen Nash Metropolitan

Note the muffler man and cool Leo's Auto Supply sign in the background: a retro roadside trifecta.

I've done a few posts about Tucson, Arizona's awesomely retro North Stone Avenue, and one more treasure to be encountered on this boulevard of dreams is the Truly Nolen Nash Metropolitan parked near the corner of Glenn Street in front of Don's Hot Rod Shop. Having never been to this region before, the name Truly Nolen was a mystery to us as we kept encountering it painted on the sides of classic old cars throughout the area. Was it a car dealership? A politician? And what was so true about this Nolen, anyway? Well, it turns out Truly Nolen is a pest control company, and a pretty big one at that. They use personalized classic cars as a promotional device. They also have a fleet of yellow VW Beetles bedecked with large mouse ears to simulate vermin.

You don't realize how small a Nash Metropolitan is until you're standing next to one. It's not much bigger than today's new-fangled Smart Cars but it's much more stylish. You half-expect to see a cartoon dog driving this car down the street, or a dozen circus clowns pile out of it. I'd love to have one of these in my driveway but I'm not sure I'd want to commute in one during rush hour on I-95.

And it turns out Truly Nolen is named after its founder, Truly Wheatfiled Nolen, who started the company in 1938. The company has 83 locations and 100 franchises in 41 foreign countries (thank you, wikipedia) and is still family run today.

And as an incredible retro-tastic bonus, there's a muffler man and a cool old neon sign all within eyeshot of the Nash. Truly incredible.

Come and listen to a story about a shop named J.E.D.'s: J E D's Rock Treasures of Tucson, Arizona

On your way to (or from) Tucson, Arizona's cactus-tacular Sonora Desert Museum, you'll pass by an unassuming but delightful eccentric roadside attraction on North Sandario Road: J E D's Rock Treasures. I'm trying to get a fix on the correct spelling of their name -- the letters J, E and D are usually capitalized but not always and sometimes they're followed by periods, as if they're abbreviating a proper name or phrase. But not always.

J E D's is a mineral, sea shell, fossil, crystal, jewelry and gift emporium of the highest order, surrounded by a funky rock garden strewn with antique implements and a table and chairs shaded by what looks like an ingeniously inverted former TV satellite dish. Mixed in with the agates, polished rocks and geological wonders are a quirky assortment of earthy objet d'art, many with a Arizona desert theme, and all at reasonable prices.

I did an internet search on J E D's and found this sad note posted on 5/26/10 attached to an EBay classified ad: "These people lost their home to a lightning strike. They can use any sales they can get. I am posting this ad to help them. The rock shop escaped damage, but their home was gutted. Thank you for your help. They would never ask."

Places like this are a true treasure, indeed, and we hope the proprietors of J.E.D.'s get over their troubles and will continue to rock on.