And now, three pages of iconic splendidness.
In late 1997 I heard from my friend Daniel Paul about some sort of depository of old Big Boy statues. He had no details but the idea of it remained a back-of-the-mind holy grail for me.
In July of 2004 Babs, unaware of this quest, emailed a link to a page of photos (at Idiotblog, now defunct) gathered under the rubric: "WHERE DO BIG BOYS GO WHEN THEY DIE ?"
Now it can be known: dead Big Boys go to Michigan.
|Once inside the yard, we spotted a buttwideopen gate on the other side of the yard. We had climbed the fence needlessly. We smott.|
|Big Boy, Better Days.|
|Big Boy Butt|
|How a Big Boy runs|