
I think I was nine when my family traveled across the Great Plains on a Greyhound bus. "Look at that," said my mom at one point, and outside the window I saw I majestic statue of a gigantic cow. We were in New Salem, North Dakota, and the sign said "World's Largest Holstein Cow." It was. I didn't stop giggling 'til Bismarck.
Ever since then I've enjoyed spotting such things - what are they called? Really big three-dimensional attractions? Roadside novelties?
Whatever you call them, I like them. I've seen a steakhouse in Florida with a giant bull pawing outside the front door. And not far from where I went to college in Sarasota stood a Tastee-Freez in the shape of a soft-serve ice-cream-cone. (Florida is a hotspot for roadside novelty spotting.) When I moved to Oregon, I was thrilled to see the dinosaurs of The Prehistoric Gardens, peeking out of the forest south of Port Orford.
No one seems to build anything that monumentally tasteless anymore, so such things are getting hard to find.
That's why I love Roadside America, a big glossy book filled with

Roadside America is a treasury of playful American kitsch, and I really enjoyed it. I spent a lot of time leafing through its pages, admiring the hubcap shops and fireworks stands, and remembering all the weird things I've seen.