Listing Through Life

The Dog n Suds in Kokomo, Indiana, opened after I made it my goal to visit all the remaining Dog n Suds. It lacks that retro ambiance and the cool sign, but we stopped by for lunch anyway.

I ordered a corn dog basket, a side of onion rings and a large root beer. The corn dog breading was very good, but the hot dog was lousy. The onion rings were good. But they committed the cardinal sin of putting crushed ice in the root beer. Not only does this make the root beer watery, but it was bad-tasting ice and it gave the root beer a distinct after-taste. I think it had absorbed some of the cooking grease smell.

The Dog n Suds in Elyria, Ohio should be the only unvisited location on my list, but I just heard this spring that a new one has opened in Rapid City, South Dakota, where I was three years ago. I don’t know when I’ll get back, and that’s a bit far for a special trip.

The most interesting thing to see at the Indiana Welcome Center in Hammond is the building itself. It is supposed to represent the area — waves for Lake Michigan, a sand dune, industry, farming and the Kankakee River. That’s a lot to ask of a building.

Out front there’s a statue of Flick (from A Christmas Story) with his tongue stuck to the flagpole. The movie was set in the fictional town of Hohman, Indiana, based on Hammond. (Hohman is the name of one of Hammond’s main streets.) Jean Shepherd, who wrote In God We Trust, All Others Pay Cash, the book on which the movie was based, grew up on Hammond.

But don’t even look at the statue unless you’re willing to make a major commitment.

Inside there’s a local hall of fame that features such luminaries as Michael Jackson and Karl Malden.

And there’s a giant mosaic duck.

And an exhibit hall. On the day of our visit, they had some old cars next to blow-ups of newspapers from the years the cars were produced.

And an exhibit of chairs decorated to show what it means to “cherish children.” One of them is an imposter.

And that was pretty much it. We wandered about for maybe 15 minutes and hoped there wasn’t an emergency.

I collected comic books when I was in high school, and again when I was in my 20s. I still have some of them, and perhaps once a year I pull them down and browse. It doesn’t take long before I get my nostalgic fix and put them away again.

This museum in Elkhart, Indiana, is owned by a guy who never got over his fixation. He’s built a museum in his backyard, shaped to look like the Hall of Justice from the Super Friends cartoon, and filled it with thousands of figurines, comic books and other comic-related stuff. He was clever enough to realize that there are geeks out there (and I guess I’m one of them) willing to pay $6 to see the collection. My wife sat in the car and read.

The most interesting items were uniforms, one worn by Adam West in the 1960s Batman TV show and one worn by William Katt on the 1980s TV show Greatest American Hero.

A note from West reads: “This letter is to document the fact that the accompanying costume is a Batman costume worn by me, Adam West, the lead actor in the 1966-1968 television series Batman.

I hope the owner of this classic Batman costume enjoys it as much as I have over the years. However, please keep in mind that wearing it in public can bring some strange looks and the chance of being permanently institutionalized.”

I wandered about for 20 minutes, glancing at things here and there. There was very little rhyme or reason to the organization of much of it, although there would occasionally be clumps of figurines of a given hero or group. The comics were all bagged and backed with cardboard, and I wasn’t sure if I was even supposed to look at them, so I didn’t.

It claims to be “the world’s only superhero museum,” which it isn’t unless you disqualify the much larger and more interesting Super Museum in Metropolis. It also claims to have a reproduction of the Bat Cave. Here it is.

I can’t imagine how much all of those figurines and comics and other stuff cost. I guess I can’t blame him for charging admission. But it’s not a place I feel the need to visit a second time.

We stopped by the Recreational Vehicle/Manufactured Housing (the guy at the desk informed us that we no longer refer to them as “mobile homes”) Hall of Fame and Museum in Elkhart, Indiana. I’d been there before, but my wife hadn’t, and on my first visit, I didn’t have the Red Chair. I could see the guy at the desk eyeing it as we paid our admission fees, but he didn’t ask and I didn’t explain.

This tiny Airstream was born the same year I was.

1931 Mae West Housecar

The plaque reads, This 1932 Chevrolet-based custom made housecar was one of the enticements offered by Paramount Studios to get Mae West to leave the Vaudeville circuit and begin to make movies for them. It is designed as a chauffeur-driven lounge and not as a “camper” unit. It features a small hot plate stove, an icebox, and a small table to enjoy lunch or a spot of tea. it was used for several years to transport Miss West from her home or hotel to the shooting locations. The story indicates she had a rocking chair on the back porch where she could enjoy the breeze when appropriate.

Which caused me to wonder when Mae West ever did anything appropriate.