... And Don't Take Your Wife

I've been to some spooky places. Graveyards, empty old houses, out in cold, stormy nights, slick back roads, and twisty mountain bends, cliffs on mountains that fell straight to the sea, hot, empty deserts miles away from anywhere with a flat tire, my trips ran the gamut. Not that I recommend doing any of that stuff. At least not without some good plans on being safe.
I say that because one of my earliest trips for my first book was with my wife. I was so delighted to find this place; it was just odd, out in the middle of nowhere, just so... unexpected.

It was the giant concrete legs in Henderson, NC.

Just, wow, man.

Ricky Pearce made the legs in a big concrete mold and lifted them into place. They sit nearly naked, except for a garter high up on the thigh. Instead of hiding the hip area in the trees, they stick out, unadorned, and more than a little suggestive. He made the sculpture as a tribute to Marilyn Monroe after seeing The Seven Year Itch. The additions to the property include a conveniently placed shrubbery, a path, and a sign that reads "Reminiscing." I missed out on the fact that he made a pair of high heel shoes for it that sit across the street.

Now I really thought this was just incredible as a creation. The legs are highly stylized, flat, with now peeling paint. I never saw anything suggestive about it. But my wife, well, she didn't feel the same about it. And I can't blame her. After a while, especially standing in the middle of them, I got a distinctly uncomfortable feeling. It was just wrong. I mean, it was creative, impressive, and kind of amazing, but still, just a little wrong to be there with my wife, and maybe not be so delighted in finding it. What can I say, I was early in my explorations, still glowing in the discovery. But I haven't been back since.

One day, maybe, when I'm heading in that direction, I'll see the legs again. Alone this time.