To stand there before the fried chicken dinner truck is joy and privilege to behold. I know, because I was there two weeks ago. And we might as well get it out in the open right now…The White Fence Farm is an AMERICANA experience of the highest order.

The White Fence Farm is an spell-binding, barnyard-themed, family-style fried chicken roadhouse restaurant just outside of Denver city limits that opened in 1973. They have live entertainment, square dancing, a petting zoo, the biggest pig in Colorado, gift shop, antique store, Christmas Boutique, candy counter, carriage rides around the former farm grounds and more. The whole place is homespun and family run. The charming and delightful hostess told us she was 85.

The fried chicken dinner was the best I’ve ever had - as crispy delicious on the outside as it was tasty moist on the inside. It was served stacked with pride on a big platter topped with an American flag toothpick. The all-you-can-eat side dishes (and oh, I did!) were sliced pickled beats, kidney bean salad, cole slaw and these little deep fried dough treats sprinkled with powdered sugar. I was STUFFED! But could hardly pass up the desert specialty of the house, a brandy parfait. I was drunk with pleasure.

Next time I go there I’m gonna hijack the chicken truck and take it for a ride around the parking lot. I won’t be driving, oh no! I’ll be riding high atop the hen!

Here’s to White Fence Farm, their chicken truck, chicken dinner and YOU!

This slide was taken either just before or after its brief, but meaningful, maiden voyage into flight on November 2, 1947; the only one it would ever take. The flying cargo ship gracefully flew about one mile at an altitude just above sea level. It had to fly, because if it didn’t the government would’ve never paid the bill. Howard Hughes built the Spruce Goose for the US government to carry troops and supplies back and forth to Europe during World War II, but by the time the plane was finished the war was over. Oh well.

Immediately following this historic short flight the monster airplane was mothballed in a giant hanger hidden from the public and shrouded in secrecy until Hughes died in April 1976.

I had the privilege of seeing the freak flying machine while it was finally on display between 1980 and 1990 in a giant dome next door to the Queen Mary in Long Beach, CA. Of course, I was flabbergasted! It’s HUGE!

A few weeks ago I saw it again, this time at its new home, the Evergreen Aviation Museum in McMinnville, Oregon. It radically dwarfs every other plane on display. I was quite surprised when I walked into the belly of the beast and was greeted by several dozen 1940s vintage beach balls in various states of inflation piled on the fuselage floor. The docent explained that hundreds of these beautiful beach balls were discovered hidden and forgotten in the wings while it was being dismantled for the tedious trek from Long Beach to Oregon. Apparently, the mysterious Mr. Hughes ordered the frolicy flotation devices placed in the wing floats and all of the empty spaces in the fuselage so the darn plane wouldn’t’ sink if it crashed!

Yes, beach balls were going keep the world’s biggest plane from sinking!

Here’s to the Evergreen Aviation Museum Howard Hughes and his Spruce Goose , beach balls and YOU!

I took this photo of him when I was in Denver last August. His grandson came to one of my slide shows and invited me to come by the Rockmount Ranch Wear store to meet his famous “papa.” So, of course, I did. “Papa Jack” talked my ear off and I savored every moment.

The unforgettable experience prompted me to then always ask my Denver Friends, when I spoke to them, how he was doing. The response was always the same “fine I guess, I haven’t heard otherwise.”

Then Wednesday when I arrived in Denver one of the first things I did was drive downtown to Rockmount Ranch Wear to check in with, who else, “Papa Jack.” It was late in the afternoon, I was tired and I couldn’t find a darn place to park. So I decided to come back and see him in the morning. A couple of hours later I while having dinner with my Denver friends I asked again, “how’s ‘Papa Jack’?” I got the same answer, “fine, we haven’t heard otherwise.”

When I got back to my room I turned on the local news and the first thing I heard was: Jack A. Weil, legendary founder of Rockmount Ranch Wear died tonight at the age of 107.

So here’s to “Papa” Jack A. Weil and every timeless classic cowboy shirt he ever made! He will always be Americana Royalty of the highest order!

OK, we might as well get it out in the open right now. Soft serve is delicious, not to mention, rarely photographed. Who takes a picture at a soft serve stand anyway? I don’t, do you?

Every four or five months I treat myself to a big half and half cone and mmmm-mmmm is it good! Every time I ask myself what am I really eating anyway? Its not ice cream that’s for sure. Is there is any dairy in it al all? I doubt it. There is no fast food product with more mysterious ingredients.

According to the legend Dairy Queen was the first to serve soft serve. That was in 1938 at an ice cream shop in Kankakee, Illinois. Today there are 5700 Dairy Queens in 22 countries. What McDonalds is to the hamburger Dairy Queen is to soft serve. That would make Dairy Queen the soft serve king.

On August 4, 2007, several of the original DQ stores in Illinois will have a big 70th party celebrating the birth of the delicious sweet frozen taste-treat sensation by selling cones for just 10 cents. If that’s not Americana I don’t know what is.

Here’s to family color coordination, whishing soft serve happy birthday and YOU!

And frankly, so am I! This week I’ve been on a whirlwind road trip extravaganza touring three of the greatest Americana destinations that up until now I’ve only dreamed of experiencing, Henry Ford’s Museum and Greenfield Village in Dearborn, Mi, Washington DC, and Colonial Williamsburg, VA.

At the Henry Ford Museum I stood oh-so-proudly in front of a beautifully restored 1952 Oscar Mayer Weiner mobile, then sat in the very seat in the very bus that Rosa Parks refused to move to the back of. I was moved to say the least. Next door at Greenfield Village I was transported back in time to a living museum / theme park of early 20th century small town life and style. It was like being in a dream or on the set of Hello Dolly! I had no idea that the village was dedicated in 1929.

Next was a too-quickie trip to Washington DC where I power-walked between the famous memorials and monuments that I’ve seen SO many slides of. They were all about a zillion times more impressive in person than I ever dreamed they would be. I was beyond giddy when I noticed that the fountain in front of the White House had turquoise dye in it – just like the kind they use at miniature golf courses. How perfect is that? But nothing prepared me for the grandeur of my new favorite building ever, the Capitol building. Frankly, I had NO idea it was going to be THAT shockingly spectacular. After all but a cavity search I was escorted in, down a long hall of the best murals I’ve ever seen, and then upstairs to the House of Representatives where they were arguing about what else? Oil.

From there it was off to Colonial Williamsburg, VA. Again, I’ve collected SO many slides of this living museum / theme park of Revolution era Americana but had NO idea that it was going to be a such a mind-bending time travel experience of the highest order. The restoration and recreation of Williamsburg began in the late 1920’s with most of the funding provided primarily by John D. Rockefeller Jr. and Reader’s Digest. Who Knew?

This intense triple dose of Americana has been a life altering experience to say the least. My imagination is inspired and my Americana spirit is soaring like it never has before!

Here’s to all things Henry Ford, turquoise dye in the White House fountain, colonial era Williamsburg and YOU!

Here’s to Jet fighter wallpaper, our patriotic duty and YOU!

Their sassy short bangs, mismatched expressions and dark eyes staring right in the camera are enough to make me think that the Daddy that took these was clearly channeling the portrait taking talents of legendary “real people” photographer Diane Arbus. Is this a perfect case of accidental amateur art direction at its best. Do these sisters know a thing or two about striking a pose? Clearly for them there is nothing to it.

A more perfect posey pose place I can’t imagine. How about you and your sister strike a pose with some posies in a hot house.

Here’s to perfect young ladies, their stylist, lighting designer, photographer and YOU!

The women both have handy sparkler lighters, aka cigarettes. And between those lovely splarkler-lightnin’ ladies is a mystery guest. She wears dark sunglasses at night and sports a color-combo-appropriate red, white and blue ribbon in her hair as she observes the traditional forth of July finale. Never mind who is she, what is she? I have no idea! She looks like a multi-media butter sculpture to me. But everybody knows that even after the sun goes down on the 4th of July in El Monte, CA, its still to hot to display your latest work of butter art. Who do you think she is? What do you think she could be!

Here’s to flying sparks, the Chinese that invented them, 232 years of Americana and YOU!