(male announcer) Production costs for Rare Visions and Roadside Revelations have been paid for in part by Fred and Lou Hartwig, generous supporters of Kansas City Public Television, and by viewers like you.

Thank you.

(man) ♪ Welcome to a show about things you can see ♪ ♪ without going far, and a lot of them are free.

♪ ♪ If you thought there was nothing ♪ ♪ in the old heartland, ♪ ♪ you ought to hit the blacktop ♪ ♪ with these fools in a van.

♪ ♪ Look out, they're driving hard, ♪ ♪ checking out art in their own backyard.

♪ ♪ Randy does the steering so he won't hurl.

♪ ♪ Mike's got the map, such a man of the world.

♪ ♪ That's Don with the camera, ♪ ♪ kind of heavy on his shoulder.

♪ ♪ And that giant ball of tape, it's a world record holder.

♪ ♪ Look out, they're driving hard, ♪ ♪ checking out art in their own backyard.

♪ ♪ Look out, they're driving hard, ♪ ♪ checking out the world in their own backyard, ♪ ♪ checking out the world in their own backyard.

♪ ♪ (Don) Dear TV Mailbag, what happened to the heartland?

(Mike) Look out for that lobster.

(Don) Hi, Don the camera guy here, soaking up some coastal Maine beauty while those two TV weasels with whom I travel reconsider their career options.

(Mike) That's right.

I'm gonna be the harbormaster.

(Randy) How does a harbormaster do it?

(Mike) Well, I don't know, I think he's supposed to-- just kind of like a big parking attendant.

Could you put your boat over there, please?

(Don) Speaking of old salts, here's Boothbay's big fiberglass fisherman, though the locals know he's even more photogenic when viewed from the side.

[Mike chuckling] (Don) There's your rare vision.

Now it's time for some roadside revelations, which requires climbing into that cramped Chrysler we call home for a short drive down to Bath, where the naval shipyards employed one Philip Day for almost 50 years.

Then he retired and quietly set about building his own Loony Lagoon.

(Philip) Whose idea?

(Randy) Yeah.

(Philip) Mine.

Did you name it yourself?

Yep.

I'm loony, and that's our lagoon.

[chuckles] (Mike) How long have you been making these things?

(Philip) Oh, eight years.

Eight, nine years.

You set down in front the TV and get fat, then you'll die.

(Randy) What was the first one you made?

(Philip) Oh, probably the stagecoach.

(Randy) Now, that's a wild West theme.

We're in Maine, aren't we?

Yeah.

(Randy) Is there any connection?

No.

(Randy) What are those animals out there?

(Philip) Deer, moose, dinosaur, turtle, shark.

(Mike) That's a nice lake you got here.

(Philip) Yeah, I dug it by hand.

(Mike) You dug it by hand?

(Philip) Pick and shovel.

(Mike) How deep is it?

(Philip) Oh, six feet.

(Mike) Wow.

It must have taken a long time to dig this out by hand.

(Philip) Yeah, I'm still digging.

You're still digging?

Still digging that.

(Randy) I'm digging that you're digging.

[imitating ducks quacking] Come on over here.

(Mike) So where do you get the materials to do all this?

(Philip) From the junkyard.

(Mike) You just--you got up the other day, and you said, "I got to make me a scuba diver"?

(Philip) Yep.

(Randy) Are you happy with the way he turned out?

Yeah.

[imitating ducks quacking] (Mike) I like the way you recycle materials.

Must make you feel good to give them a new life.

(Philip) Well, more or less.

He's the old pot-bellied stove.

And a block of wood.

(Randy) Tell me the parts that are in this moose.

What'd you use to make it?

(Philip) A oil barrel.

Oil barrel and a piece of wood.

(Randy) Now, we have a jail.

We have a bowling alley.

(Philip) Yeah, used to be.

It's full of junk now.

(Mike) No bowling anymore.

(Philip) No more bowling.

(Randy) Well, the Loony Lagoon is unlike anyplace I've ever seen before.

(Philip) Yeah, heck of a lot of people say that.

(Mike) I guess people must drive by and stop.

(Philip) Yeah, they stop all the time.

(Mike) That must make you feel good, huh?

Well, more or less.

(Randy) Yo u don't say much, do you, Philip?

Nope.

(Don) Now, that's okay, but it's too bad about the bowling.

A few frames would've been fun.

So we watched some synchronized swimming instead, then proceeded on our watery way.

(Randy) See ya, Phil!

Keep making stuff!

(Don) Proceeding down the coastal road till we made Freeport, well-known as the HQ of LL-- Bean, that is-- and though I find it hard to believe, home to a desert as well.

(Mike) What's for dessert?

(Don) Stand by for some information and clarification.

This is the Tuttle Farm barn.

It's the only thing left of the Tuttle Farm.

The Tuttle Farm was built in 1783.

And this barn was built in 1783.

The Tuttles farmed until 1919.

And then the sands took over, and they had to abandon the farm and left.

They did the same crop over and over.

And they did not rotate their crops.

And his big mistake was cutting down too many trees.

The wind was able to blow away the topsoil as it depleted, exposing the ancient desert, and the desert took over.

These sand dunes have built up in the past 80 years.

(Randy) And you aren't trucking sand in here when people aren't looking just to make them bigger?

No, no, no sand.

No, this sand is glacial sand.

It's actually lake-bottom silt.

Feel the sand.

You'll feel it's not anything like beach sand.

(Randy) It's going to be all over our van when we get back in, right?

(Carolyn) Uh -huh.

These tree--the oak trees are on the original level.

And the oak trees are buried up to 30, 40 feet high.

The reason the trees still survive is because it's so gradual.

(Randy) So it sort of sneaks up on the trees.

Yes, it just sneaks up on the tree.

(Randy) Th at's a technical sc ientific term.

(Carolyn) Oh, yes.

This is the buried spring house.

And how would I know that this is the buried spring house?

You can't see it.

I know, but we have pictures.

(Mike) Oh.

(Carolyn) The spring house was built in 1938 and was completely covered by 1962.

(Mike) That's the 90-foot hill up there?

(Carolyn) Yes.

When you get up to the very, very top of that sand dune, it just drops right down to the original level of the land.

(Randy) Wow.

What's the best Desert of Maine souvenir that you would recommend?

(Carolyn) The best Desert of Maine souvenir is one of the sand jars that the artists make here.

Would you like to go see if we can find some colored sand?

(Mike) Sure.

Would that be fun?

(Mike) That'd be fun.

All right!

You can see some darks.

(Mike) Oh , yeah.

And let me see.

I'll find you some gray and some red.

All right, we won't find it-- oh, here's some.

Whoa, right there.

There, all right!

(Mike) So people come here, and they camp, and then they come out and play in the desert at night?

(Carolyn) Yes, we give them passes, and they can come out anytime they want.

It's really eerie out here at night.

Not too many people, a few fellas maybe, but you won't find many women out here at night.

This isn't where I'd be going to look for women anyway.

Especially not this one.

Hey, let's go out in the desert and-- (both) Look for women.

[Carolyn laughing] You know, every October, I'm ready to close.

And we're down in Florida, of course.

And by the first of April, I'm aching to come back, because it's--it's like my baby, I guess.

(Don) Talk about your loved ones.

Just about everything makes me miss that dog I left behind.

Nokona.

At least we left the desert with one nifty memento, though food, not beverages, is what we seem to be seeking down the way in Scarborough, or at least something made from food which can be found inside this suburban sweet shop.

Yes, Lenny the chocolate moose, all 1,700 pounds of him, and now having seen him, we can say that we have and resume the driving portion of this show, driving right past the high-dollar homes in Kennebunk-- don't get me started-- to a place where dessert and design seem to have met.

(Mike) Well, I think it's a sea captain got--did something fancy for his wife.

(Don) Guess our research is sketchy, but you get the idea.

(Randy) It blurs the line between Gothic and gaudy.

That's a good line.

(Don) One thing's for certain.

Whether it looks like pastry or not, plenty of people want to take its picture.

♪ Someone left the cake house in the rain.

♪ Yes, Mother Nature's telling us to call it a day, which, apparently, we're going to do on the other side of this magnificent bridge that links two states.

Could this be an omen?

(Randy) It's an omen.

That's the second rainbow in a day.

(Don) Drop the postcard, please.

[cow mooing] Now, you might not believe it, but I, Don the camera guy, spent a good stretch of my formative years being formed not far from here.

And having thrown papers in the greater Boston area, I'm tickled about our next stop, Elis Stenman's Paper House, built decades ago with nothing but papers and still operated most days on the honor system by his granddaughter Edna.

(Edna) He built it to live in, and he did live in it, he and his wife, for six summers, actually, in the '20s.

It was like his hobby.

You know, he did it over a 20-year period.

And he just--he just--what?

I don't know.

[bleep].

Turn that camera off.

[all chuckling] Just, you know, it was his hobby.

He got into it strictly because he was curious, "What can I do with the newspaper and, you know, like, not destroy the print of it?"

(Mike) Wow.

Cool.

It's all paper.

And it's been painted over with, like, fiberglass--or no, resin?

(Randy) Yeah, it's some sort of resin.

(Edna) His plan was to cover the outside with clapboards.

And then the paper would be the insulation.

But he never quite got that far.

Paper lasted, so he said, "Well, let's see what happens."

Nothing happened, so here we are 80 years later.

Check it out.

"Read all about it!

Amazing house built out of over 100,000 newspapers."

(Edna) I don't know if you noticed the clock when you're in there, but there's a paper in that grandfather clock from every state capital.

One of the neighbors wrote a letter to every state and said what Mr. Stenman wanted to do.

And he got a paper from every capital city and put them into that grandfather clock.

(Mike) You might ask, "Why 48?"

There's really 50 states, right?

Not when he made the clock.

There were only 48.

(Don) Are you reading this?

No, I'm not read-- [coughing] (Edna) He was odd, you know?

He was always doing strange little things.

(Don) This desk here is just made out of accounts of Lindbergh's flight.

(Randy) Right, right, absolutely, right.

(Edna) You know, he probably just had a picture of it in his mind and did it.

I mean, he was just that way.

He was very clever.

He was an engineer.

I guess engineers aren't sloppy.

(Randy) Did you see The Christian Science Monitor desk?

That's a Boston paper.

(Don) I delivered The Monitor.

(Randy) Never had anybody come here and say they've seen anything quite like it, have you?

No, no.

It's strictly a one-of-a-kind thing as far as I know of.

(Mike) Did he ever make Ripley's or any of that kind of stuff?

(Edna) Oh, yeah.

(Mike) Yeah?

(Edna) Yeah, Ripley's have been here with the camera.

(Randy) But what I want to know is, did they pay their honor system fee?

(Mike) 'Cause we're gonna pay ours.

Well, I do not know that, if they did.

I certainly hope they did because if this is on television, they might be feeling bad about that.

(Don) I suppose they might, but look who's savin' our bacon again, which gives me the right to ask a quick question of my own.

There is no magazine house around here, is there?

I don't think so.

I've never heard of one.

(Don) Edna says no new additions are planned for these old editions, just some varnish where it needs it.

We'd offer to help, but frankly, the lure of Beantown is far too great and, considering that Big Dig in the middle of town, potentially far too confusing.

(Randy) Ho w did th e founding fathers ever deal with al l this traffic in the Revolutionary time?

(Don) Good thing we've picked up our own native guide along the way.

Ken Bell is an actual viewer of this show whose tragic error was telling us to look him up if we're ever in town, which accounts for this madcap tour of outer Boston he's leading us on.

I do have to predicate that this is all conjecture.

You're making it up as you go?

I'm making it up as I go along.

The Hood milk bottle used to be kind of a dairy bar down, I believe, in Taunton, Massachusetts.

They did float this milk bottle into Boston Harbor, and then they reconstructed it up here.

(Don) No, I heard they cut it in half.

Did they?

Yeah, making half-and-half.

This is a good place to maybe address some of the historical things we're not going to see.

Those are things we're not going to be able to see?

Oh, well, of course there is the Union Oyster House where-- ah, the Union Oyster House where the toothpick was invented.

That's the one--they used to have reenactments where they would, you know, throw the tea into the harbor.

(Don) Now, did those tea bags have th ose little strings on them?

Oh, they all did.

They threw individual bags.

You know, it took forever.

It took years and years.

(Don) I heard this town was steeped in history.

Site of the Boston Massacre right there, the old statehouse.

Could you direct me to the old statehouse?

Oh, the Virgin Mary in the window of the hospital in Milton.

(Mike) Ho w's that going?

I haven't been following-- I don't follow it on a daily basis.

I should get email updates.

Yeah, now, but just pull up-- double-park right by this thing here.

That's the birthplace of the first telephone.

Alexander Graham Bell.

(Don) Was it a telemarketing call, the first phone call?

Yeah, well, that's just down the street.

That was second.

Well, let the chips fall where they may.

(Don) City driving does take a toll, but it's exciting to see so many hallowed halls of higher learning so close together: Harvard, MIT, BC, and most importantly to us, Wellesley College, home of the world's largest globe and a great spot for some quick catch.

(Mike) Over the pole.

(Ken) The polar route.

Oh!

Ho, good catch!

(Don) Note how well our guest lefty makes do with the ball gloves at hand.

(Mike) It's yours.

That one's yours.

(Don) But watch out, Canada, on some of his throws.

Uh-oh, uh-oh!

clunk!

(Don) And speaking of prominently placed big balls-- (Mike) I think it's bigger.

Look at that.

(Don) It's a total eclipse of the earth.

(Don) Ken's duties aren't done yet, though.

He's still got to get us to Dedham, yet another Boston burb with cultural clout, which can be found right down these theater steps.

I'm talkin' about MoBA, the world's only Museum of Bad Art.

(Louise) Some people think we're in the men's room.

I think we're just outside the men's room.

"Art too bad to be ignored" is one of our very many slogans, but it's our favorite.

Our purpose is to collect, exhibit, and celebrate bad art.

We like to see the work of a good artist and see some real skill in it, but something's off: the color, the subject, perspective, something.

So that's one thing.

The other extreme is the really clueless artists.

It's great fun to see a landscape with trees marching in rows or bodies of water that mysteriously stop and start or overwrought symbolism that just overwhelms you.

In addition to being bad, it's got to be interesting, either the painting itself and/or what we know about it.

We think the story on this-- there are a couple of theories.

One theory is, someone started out painting mountains and then got a little bit done and said, "Yeah, you know, this looks kind of like a dog," and it changed, and clearly, by the time they got down about here, they got kind of bored and just filled it in fast.

I haven't figured this one out, but I'm sure she was trying to say something.

This is very special.

It's hard to say that someone was setting out to make something good.

On the other hand, it's spectacular.

(Randy) Well, now, you must see a lot of lighthouse paintings.

Yeah, lighthouses are big.

(Randy) And is that one out on the end of a diving board?

(Louise) We said this is "A cupcake lighthouse perches on a baguette "frosted with lavender jimmies.

"A wishbone washes up on the beach.

Could this be the work of a starving artist?"

This is Elian Gonzalez' grandmothers.

"Painting almost 30 years before the fact, "the visionary artist depicts "the boy hero's grandmothers' return "from visiting him in Miami "to their native Cuba, where the tropical plants are muy grande."

Writing the blurbs, as we call them or the--you know, the narratives is a lot of fun, and it's something that's not easy to do.

We've got right now about four or five people who do it well.

(Randy) I used the word gravitas with you this morning.

(Louise) Yes.

(Randy) Do I have potential?

Sure, oh, yeah, anyone who can use-- you know, us e big words.

Gravitas.

(Louise) One of the things that's been really interesting is artists sending us their own work.

And it took us a while to understand that.

Why would you want to be in the Museum of Bad Art?

And it turns out, it's a can't-lose proposition, because if we turn an artist down, they can say, "Well, the Museum of Bad Art turned me down.

I can't be that bad."

If we accept them, they're in a museum.

We've got a lot of people to come out of the closet and admit that, even though they know it's bad, they love it.

[train rumbling] [bird screeches] My God, Ra ndy, is it?

I'm Randy.

That's Mike.

I'm Mike.

(Don) Looks like another morning, another Massachusetts museum.

This one's in the tiny town of Onset at the edge of Cape Cod, where a retired science teacher named Dick Porter has been stocking up on-- well, you'll see.

(Mike) In we go.

Oh, my goodness.

(Dick) These are anchors.

Over here are the keys.

(Randy) Well, that's a fish thermometer.

(Dick) That's a nice fish one.

That one has been in many, many articles, by the way.

I've got one over there with Marilyn Monroe on it.

Thermometers, you know, they're advertising.

They're--that's why they can be all different.

You've got also souvenir types that come from all over the world.

I've got them here from as far away as New Zealand, Australia, and so on.

(Randy) Do the numbers go different backwards in the other hemisphere?

No.

(Randy) So what wing of the museum are we in?

(Dick) You are in the cutesy wing.

These are my towers, different towers, all the way from the Eiffel Tower to Bunker Hill monument in Boston and even the world's largest thermometer which is out in the Mojave Desert of California.

(Randy) That's 4,600 and how many now?

81, 4,681.

I'm shooting for 5,000.

I forget that-- Whoa, there goes one, 46,8-- (Mike) How many now?

(Randy) 4,680.

(Dick) So how unusual can you get?

Well, there's one on a chicken foot here, for example.

This is probably my-- in fact, is my favorite right here.

It is called a chandelier thermometer.

The most I've ever paid for a thermometer is $60.

If it had the Coca-Cola seal on it right here, rather than the funeral home, it would be worth $1,800.

I'm the Thermometer King.

And-- [chuckles] Actually an old colander with little zipper pull thermometers on it.

(Randy) Do you just come down here and soak up the thermometric atmosphere some days?

(Dick) I sure do.

I just come down and sit and amazed at what I've done.

If I'm home, it's open.

It's just that simple.

It's always open, always free.

And the motto continues, "with over 4,600 to see."

(Randy) Put that on again for a second.

You look so good on it, yeah.

I got the idea from a nurse.

(Don) Is she one of those colander girls?

Oh, very good.

You guys are almost as good as Bob and Tom.

You ever heard of Bob and Tom?

(Mike) Who are they?

Indianapolis?

Probably one of the most famous talk shows in the country.

(Mike) We ll, but we're almost as good, not as good.

Well... "Always open, always free, with over 4,600 to see."

[squeaking] (Don) Somehow, despite all his collecting and considerable PR skills, Dick hasn't made it into the Guinness book.

We hope that happens, and I hope I don't have to say Mattapoisett, Massachusetts, again, which is where we spotted this crusty old roadside relic on our way out of the state and into Rhode Island.

Now, making this show, we've learned that you never know what some guy down the block is making in his basement, some guy like Bill LaCivita, whose regular day job seems far removed from what we're seeing down here.

(Bill) I run a CNC mill, which is a computerized numerical control mill, at a jewelry factory.

I work at Jostens in Attleboro.

They make class rings.

You probably heard of them.

It kind of taught me to see things, 'cause looking at rings for 20 years, you learn to see things differently.

I don't really know why I started.

I guess some-- actually, I know why I started.

Somebody gave me a mannequin head.

I took a look at it and said, "I think I can make that."

And so I made-- I made this, which is the very first statue.

This one here is a good one.

This one--actually, my brother convinced me to enter the Attleboro Art, um, contest-- What do you call it?

Some sort of contest.

And I won first prize.

I was shocked.

And then-- But basically, I make a cement base.

And then I use mortar and put the shells on.

And then I use--no, I don't use the automobile resin anymore.

I use marine epoxy.

(Mike) So where are you getting the seashells?

(Bill) Well, this is Rhode Island, and it's the coast, and there's lots of seashells around.

(Mike) Do you collect them yourself?

(Bill) Oh, I collect them.

Now people are beginning to give them to me too, so now I'm getting exotic shells.

So this is the chicken.

(Mike) Yeah.

(Don) That's a beauty.

(Mike) That is really nice.

I love that.

You used a lobster claw there?

Yeah, a lobster claw for the face, sea urchins for the eyes.

This is Salome after she cut John the Baptist's head off.

That's where she's screaming.

(Randy) We re you inspired by the story?

Yeah, yeah, I think it's a good story.

So basically, these are all goddess figures or mermaids.

I haven't really decided.

Some of them I call mermaids.

Some I call goddesses.

(Mike) Ar e those rabbits back there?

These are supposed to be angels, but everybody thinks they're rabbits, so now I call them rabbits since that's the universal-- (Mike) No, I meant, are those angels back there?

Okay, this one here's really heavy so I can't take it down.

It, like, weighs 200 pounds.

But it's made out of rusty staples.

Here's one made out of pieces of granite.

(Mike) So just about any material's fair game.

(Bill) Yeah, if it's around, if it's cheap.

I'm not spending a lot of money.

I'll spend $1.29 on Walmart beads, but that's about it.

This one actually moves.

It's kinetic.

I kind of like that.

Yeah.

That really wasn't planned, but-- [chuckles] Years ago, I had a bunch of dreams, and they were all very similar, so these are figures based on sort of a dream sequence.

What I like about all my stuff, though, nobody is indifferent.

They either really hate it, or they really like it, which I think is a compliment.

I used to have three, four more of these, but there were these little kids that came over and really liked them, so I gave each kid one of these.

So now they have the world's largest collection of Bill LaCivita art.

Here.

It's very heavy.

I already got hurt once today.

It's about 40 pounds.

(Mike) And what's the base made out of?

(Bill) Cement.

See ya.

(Don) Hold that head right there.

Sorry.

(Don) He's trying to start the second largest collection.

(Don) Not a bad idea, but you may recall, our van is full.

Besides, Bill's bidding us adieu, and I am still Don the camera guy, signing off.

(Mike) Home.

Home, James.

(female announcer) To learn more about the sights you've seen on this show and plan a road trip of your own, visit Rare Visions on the web at: You can also purchase DVDs, videotapes, and a companion book to this award-winning series.

Call: Captioning and audio description provided by the U.S. Department of Education.

Captioning and audio description byCaptionMax www.captionmax.com (Don) What gentlemen.

(Mike) Bill Buckner.

Oh, bad hop!

(Don) I want to give you this beat-up-- [clattering] Look, Don, it's a wishbone tree.

You could make a wish.

(Don) I think I will.

Ah.

Hey, that works!

(male announcer) Production costs for Rare Visions and Roadside Revelations have been paid for in part by Fred and Lou Hartwig, generous supporters of Kansas City Public Television, and by viewers like you.

Thank you.