September 26 – “Purple … Purple … Purple”

Just remembered a disconcerting event from the other day when we were at Bill Clinton’s grandma’s house.  One of the ladies in our tour group was a fairly young twenty-something.  As we meandered through the house she noticed a piece of furniture in one corner that resembled a large box on the floor.  Peering more closely she simply couldn’t make sense of the tiny screen or the printed numbers or the set of knobs protruding from the screen’s sides.  I watched her as her face grew more and more puzzled.  Finally she had to ask, “What is that?”  Awesome.  The tour guide handled her answer professionally and Park Ranger-y.  “It’s a radio.  It’s like an old-fashioned TV.”  There you go.

Now.  Having decided to extend our stay in Hot Springs one more day, we set out on day one’s adventure.  Bathhouse Row.  It’s a collection of seven or eight old bathhouses where people have been coming for years to bathe in the hot spring water (Hmm.  Imagine that.  Might make a good name for the town, don’t you think?).  My particular interest?  Hot Springs was the Spring Training location for many years for quite a few of the old-timer baseball greats, including Babe Ruth.  In fact, the whole town has photos and plaques of the old superstars.  So, I wanted to check out where those fellas relaxed and did their best to sweat the alcohol out of their systems.  As it turned out, the visitors’ center was in one of them, and they provided a full on tour of the restored building.  Chris’ favorite of the tour were those sweat tanks where you sit down and only your head sticks out the top.  Well, actually she cringed at the very sight of them. 

Down the street I made a new friend.  One of the other bathhouses was now the gift shop for the national park.  And who should I find waiting for me there?  Mokey Bear.  That’s without the “S,” mind you.  (He always has to add that since he joined the Park Ranger service.  Can’t risk confusion with that other guy).  One of the other bathhouses is now a brewery and another is a bed and breakfast, I think.  But a few of them still operate.  My goal today is to make it to one of them for a foot and head massage (Yep.  Chris looked it up.  That’s one of the deals they offer).  So outside Mokey Bear’s stomping grounds was an actual water fountain with water flowing straight from the underground spring.  The smart-aleck Park Ranger we spoke to said that I would bravely touch the water first, wince at how hot it was, then do my best to trick Chris into trying it as well.  Let me just say … he wasn’t wrong.  That water was hot.  Beyond bathtub hot.  We learned that back in the day they had to mix it with cold water before they could use it in the bathhouses.  Ouch.

Next we walked over to the Gangster Museum.  Not exactly what we expected.  Kind of reminded us of the Bonnie and Clyde Museum we found on an earlier excursion, only not as blood and guts-y.  Several full-sized statues of Al Capone did grace the premises, though.  Oh, and the tour was long.  Way too long.  I think the old guy leading it might have personally known the mobsters he was telling us about.  My favorite was the baseball room, with old photos of many of the hall of famers who had come to the area back in the day.  The focal point of the room was a bigger than life-size statue of Babe Ruth calling his shot.  Chris made me leave the room with the rest of the tour group before I finished checking out all the photos, but she let me buy a book they had with nothing but old photos of baseball players enjoying Spring Training here.

Next was lunch at BubbaLu’s.  Good chicken salad sandwich.  Mine was grilled on something called panatinni or panaweeny or padawandeeny bread.  Can’t remember what they called it, but it tasted good.  And they had lots of baseball pictures on the walls.  Nice touch.

After lunch we headed to Toussad’s Wax Museum.  I went to the original one of those back in the early 70’s when I went through London after a study tour of the Holy Land.  This one was not as extensive, but the work was pretty close to right on.  The best part was the scary room.  They warned young children not to go in, and even had a bypass option.  It was filled with Frankenstein-esque.  Zombie-type figures.  My favorite was the huge wolf attacking from the center of the room right at you.  As we turned the corner after that, we heard several very loud retorts exploding through the hallway.  I didn’t expect sound effects, but they would have been much more effective while we were in the scary room rather than the Disney princess room.  Come to find out a guy was doing some carpentry work in the hallway just around the corner.  I shared with his my idea about using the loud noises in the scary room.  He said he has scared a few teenage girls when he walked through that exhibit to do some work.  One even asked him if he was wax.  He told her, “Yes, but at 9:00 I turn real.”  I like that guy.

We tried to go see the Oddities Museum.  They had pictures of a two-headed cow and tales of a two-headed turtle graced their website.  Sadly, you had to buy a ticket to some magic show to get in.  And it was only open later that night.  Guess I’ll have to search for oddities elsewhere.

Next we drove to the site where Babe Ruth played in an exhibition game and hit a 550 foot home run (One local told us it was 550 yards.  Hmm.  1650 feet.  Now that would be a long shot).  Apparently the stadium was next door to an alligator farm, and he hit the ball out of the stadium and into one of the alligator pits.  Impressive.

Not quite as impressive as The Babe, but still extraordinary, was the view from the Mountain Tower.   Atop one of the larger hills in the area was built an even taller observing platform.  Beautiful views of the city and the surrounding region.  And in their gift shop, who should I meet but Alcie, another new friend.  He’s a bear named after a certain famous gangster who used to frequent these parts (That guy went by Al C., so don’t get confused).  Alcie is dressed to go to the bathhouses for a neck and foot rub and invited me to join him.  I don’t have a cool bathrobe like he does, but I sure am leaning toward that spa treatment. 

Next went on a little driving tour of West Mountain.  There were a few good views from there.  The only real excitement was when Chris noticed what looked like smoke.  I got out the binoculars and gazed at it for a while.  It was definitely a fire, but it was right in the middle of the trees, and looked to be carefully contained.  I’ll trust that the local FD handled it. 

We closed out our day with a dinner trip to a place called The Purple Cow.  Strange place.  All the seats were … purple.  Their logo was a cow that was white and … purple.  And then came the most disconcerting thing of all.  They served a vanilla milkshake that was … purple.  That is just wrong.  And of course Chris ordered one.  Turned her tongue … purple.  Oh, and get this.  Chris was wearing a beautiful blouse … purple.  Wrong.  Just wrong.

But the Astros did win.  And the Athletics lost, so the ‘Stros win the division.  Great end to the day. 

Psalms 103:2-5 says, “Praise the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits —  who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion, who satisfies your desires with good things so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's.”

Father, thanks for holding off the rain until we made it back to the hotel last night.  Amen.