The Oz Museum: Behind The Yellow Brick Road

Yes Dorothy, we were in Kansas anymore, Wamego to be exact.

As the home of The Oz Museum, this little burg between Topeka and Manhattan has become quite a Mecca for fans of The Wizard of Oz.

We entered the main street storefront into a fairly typical gift shop, with a couple of exceptions. There was a tornado … CONTINUE READING >>

Entering the Oz Museum in Wamego, Kansas

Unlike Elton John, we did not find ourselves beyond the enchanted pathway, instead we found ourselves right in the middle of it, and privy to the secrets behind the making of the most magical road movie of all time.

The Oz Museum in Wamego, Kansas

Yes Dorothy, we were in Kansas anymore, Wamego to be exact.

As the home of The Oz Museum, this little burg between Topeka and Manhattan has become quite a Mecca for fans of The Wizard of Oz.

We entered the main street storefront into a fairly typical gift shop, with a couple of exceptions.

There was a tornado machine in one corner and a very familiar-looking, sepia-toned house along the far wall.

Auntie Em's house at The Oz Museum in Wamego, Kansas

To set the mood, we stepped into the machine and were buffeted by gale force winds.

We say gale, as opposed to tornadic, not only because it is Dorothy’s last name, but also because was must admit to being a little disappointed by the lack of vortex.

The wind blew straight down on our heads. Nevertheless, we felt ready to enter Auntie Em’s front door.

Dorothy Display at The Oz Museum in Wamego, Kansas

In a very effective nod to the movie’s switch from black & white to technicolor, everything beyond the doorway was properly retina-burningly bright.

Our journey began with the books behind the film, including a first edition of the one that started it all, L. Frank Baum’s Wonderful Wizard of Oz from 1900.

The complete collection of OZ books at The Oz Museum in Wamego, Kansas

Baum went on to pen thirteen more Oz books, but the tales continued even after he passed away as the publisher sanctioned over twenty more titles, mostly written by Ruth Plumly Thompson. In all, the series spanned five decades.

Waddle books and games at The Oz Museum in Wamego, Kansas

The Wicked Witch, Tin Man, Scarecrow, and Cowardly Lion at The Oz Museum in Wamego, Kansas

The Wizard of Oz display at The Oz Museum in Wamego, Kansas

From the literary beginnings, we moved on to the displays about the beloved 1939 movie that brought Oz to life for so many millions of people.

Each of the main characters is given a space which includes signed memorabilia, letters, notes, and fascinating behind-the-scenes stories.

Buddy Epson as the Tin Man at The Oz Museum in Wamego, Kansas

We learned that several of the actors were not the first choice for their roles. W. C. Fields was originally cast as the wizard, played by Frank Morgan, but contract disputes got in the way; and Buddy Ebsen, of Jed Clampett and Barnaby Jones fame, was the first pick for The Tin Man until the silver makeup made him ill, giving the part to Jack Haley.

The Tin Man's hat at The Oz Museum in Wamego, Kansas

Many of the film’s special effects are explained too.

The tornado was made of a gauze-like muslin fabric wrapped around a wire coil, and the wicked witch’s “Surrender Dorothy” sky writing was achieved with an ink-filled medical needle and water in a glass tank.

Most interesting to David, especially since he can finally stop being terrified of them, were the little models used to create the army of flying monkeys.

Flying Monkey at The Oz Museum in Wamego, Kansas

The Ruby Slippers at The Oz Museum in Wamego, Kansas

There are several replicas of the ruby slippers, which were originally meant to be silver but changed because red looked so much better against the yellow brick road, but an original pair destined to be displayed at the Oz Museum fell prey to thieves back in 2005.

Unfortunately, one of the five known pairs used in the movie was stolen from The Judy Garland Museum two weeks before they were scheduled to be delivered. While some of the other shoes have been auctioned for over half a million dollars, the stolen ones have never surfaced.

The theater at The Oz Museum in Wamego, Kansas

The Haunted Forest at The Oz Museum in Wamego, Kansas

In the back of the building a theater runs a pristine copy of the MGM classic, but we’ve seen it hundreds of times so we headed into the Haunted Forest, lions and tigers and bears, oh my!

Just as in the movie, beyond the forest we came to Glenda The Good Witch and the hot air balloon.

But we didn’t need a ride back to Kansas, it was right outside the door.

Toto's Tacoz in Wamego, Kansas

The museum has spawned several other Oz based businesses in Wamego. Right next door we grabbed a bite at Toto’s Tacoz.

We knew it had to be good because they spelled tacos with a Z.

The Oz Winery in Wamego, Kansas

About a block down Lincoln Street we found the Oz Winery.

They make a wide variety of wines right on site, many with fanciful Oz based names like Squished Witch, Flying Monkeys, Drunken Munchkin, and Wine of a Different Color.

The Oz Winery in Wamego, Kansas

In fact, Oz has become such an integral part of the town that each year they host a giant Oztoberfest combining the classic Bavarian festival with thousands of fans, many decked out as their favorite fantasy characters from the merry old land of Oz.

We’re not positive about this, but speculation is that this might be where the winery got the idea for the name Drunken Munchkin.

David & Veronica, GypsyNester.com

Graduation A Go-Go

“Graduation speeches were invented largely in the belief that college students should never be released into the world until they have been properly sedated.” – Garry Trudeau

Between our brood of three and my brother’s trio we have six kids within a ten year age span. That used to mean some hilarious… CONTINUE READING >>

David Writes!

With graduation season firmly upon us, we thought that we would revisit this story from a few years ago.

“Graduation speeches were invented largely in the belief that college students should never be released into the world until they have been properly sedated.” – Garry Trudeau

Between our brood of three and my brother’s trio we have six kids within a ten year age span. That used to mean some hilarious high jinx as piles of toddler bodies rolled around our basements and backyards.

Cousins seem to have some sort of inborn bond this way. Months or even years can pass and the shenanigans pick up right where they left off at the last visit.

These days five of the six are officially adults and that means we’ve been to A LOT of graduations — both high school and college — over the last few years. And there are more to come.

We will be attending our niece’s university commencement ceremony in Boston this weekend. My brother’s oldest daughter is heading out into the big wide world.

As always, it’s both exciting and a little bit scary for both the former student and her parents. Both parties are understandably nervous about the job market, living quarters and the details of making the transition from pupil to worker bee.

After going through this rite of passage twice with our girls, The Piglet and Decibel, it will be nice to be a semi-impartial observer. Attorney General Eric Holder will be delivering the address so that should make for an interesting afternoon.

We can enjoy the speech without stressing out about the future. We don’t have to worry that grandma might get lost on the way to the celebratory dinner. We don’t have to make hotel reservations for twenty people or be the official family Boston tour guide while simultaneously choking back our emotions.

My sister-in-law is a fabulous hostess and we just can kick back and enjoy the results.

When The Piglet and Decibel graduated we found that some forward thinking helped to make this transitional time a lot less troublesome. Rather than having them move backwards by coming home to begin a job and housing search, they simply continued the life they were already living.

That way we avoided having a short term helping hand become a long term boomeranger in the basement.

For our family, we found it extremely beneficial for the kids to move out of the dorms after their freshman year. Dorms were a nice initial transition, but we were truly shocked at the expense.

The move to an apartment was less costly and taught our offspring the real world lessons of bill paying, food gathering and the limits of sanitary conditions tolerable for human habitation. Not living in student housing helped ease the shock of graduation.

Without the stress of needing to learn to live on their own, moving onward became a matter of finding work in their chosen field while getting by on the income from gigs they’d rather not have. Nothing gets you off your butt faster than working a job you hate.

Another important step was not waiting until after graduation to begin the job search. By keeping in communication with contacts made in college and through internships, The Piglet and Decibel had leads ready to pursue before the tossed caps hit the ground.

Because we are not totally heartless, we offered a little grubstake as a graduation gift to help them on their merry way. While it might seem crass to give cash as a gift, there’s nothing a recent graduate appreciates more. It buys time and a little less stress for any antsy alumnus.

Otherwise we offered advice when asked and encouragement the rest of the time. We made a point of not making any decisions for them, only offering insight. That way they owned their outcomes and were ripe for living and learning.

Sure there have been twists and turns since receiving their sheepskins — it’s a hard knock world out there. Tough times, a few moves and a couple of job changes were undertaken, but both girls are getting by just fine.

The next graduation we will be celebrating will be our youngest’s — The Boy — two years from now. After that, no more tuition, no more dependents on the tax return, no way to consider our children, children in any context.

That will do it for us, the fat lady will have completed her cantata. The nest will be truly empty.

David, GypsyNester.com

Our Favorite (Lesser Known) Cities on Each Continent

For a trip down Memory Lane, and maybe to offer some ideas for summer travel, we decided to go back through our past few years of globetrotting and pick out our favorite metropolises along the way… CONTINUE READING >> 

For a trip down Memory Lane, and maybe to offer some ideas for summer travel, we decided to go back through our past few years of globetrotting and pick out our favorite metropolises along the way.

We didn’t want to just randomly select, and choosing them by geographic landmass seemed like a good criteria, so here we go…

Europe:

There is an intimidating list of fantastic choices in Europe, so picking one is a daunting task. Certainly Paris and Rome spring to mind, and Prague always comes up when we get asked about our favorite places, but for this recollection are looking to venture a little more off of the beaten path.

With that in mind we pick Wangen im Allgäu in Germany.

We stumbled upon this southern German gem completely by accident when seeking a night’s lodging on our way to Switzerland.  By the time we parked at our hotel we were immediately enamored.

The berg most certainly has a sense of humor, with fanciful fountains featuring whimsical sculptures scattered throughout, yet it also has maintained its authenticity as a picture perfect dollop of Deutschland.

The food and architecture could not have been more genuine, and we even happened upon the town’s weekly outdoor market when we ventured out the next morning. We couldn’t have asked for a better overnight.

South America:

Whenever the subject of South America arises our first recommendation is always to visit the Galápagos Islands, but since we are focusing on urban areas for this retrospect we will jump back over to the mainland and choose Cusco in Peru.

Perched over ten thousand feet high up in the Andes, this once capital of the Inca Empire now serves as the homebase for explorations of The Sacred Valley.

It is the perfect jumping off point for venturing into the mysteries of the ancient cities and ruins of Sacsayhuaman, Ollantaytambo, and Machu Picchu.

But it would be a mistake to rush off to those ruins without indulging on the rich past and vibrant present that Cusco has to offer. The city has several layers to reveal as it was transformed from the ancient Incan, to Spanish, and now the Peruvian cultures.

Africa:

We have not travelled extensively across Africa, but we were able to collect lifelong memories in the village of Rau, on the outskirts of the city of Moshi in Tanzania.

Our time there became an experience that will live in our hearts forever as we jumped in to teaching and repairing the Lunguo Primary School. Our time with the vivacious students and dedicated faculty will bring us joy for the rest of our lives.

Beyond that, we were able to get a small taste of what day to day life is really like away from any tourist attractions or high-rise hotels.

Mixed in with our construction and educational activities, we also found time to meet and learn a few of the customs of the Chagga and Maasai people, and see an amazing array of African animals in the Ngorongoro Crater .

All under the powerful shadow of Mount Kilimanjaro.

Asia:

Growing up as Cold War kids we never in a million years dreamt that we would ever have a chance to set foot in China. My how times have changed!

After observing the uproarious hustle and bustle of Hong Kong, Shanghai, and Beijing, the work-a-day city of Dalian gave us a welcome glimpse into the life of Chinese people away from these massive urban areas.

Hopping aboard a creaking and clanking old wooden streetcar, we rode into the city with no particular destination in mind and discovered gleaming modern skyscrapers next to a marketplace of shops mish-mashed together that looked as though it had hardly changed in centuries.

We also indulged in perhaps the best street food we have ever encountered, as well as the worst thing we have ever put in our mouths.

No wonder we called it a city of contrasts.

Australia:

Even though we only had the chance to explore a small slice of the Land Down Under, we feel comfortable proclaiming Gold Coast as a pick.

It is aptly named, because this stretch of beach along the Coral Sea certainly is top notch all the way.

Spectacular hotels overlook the ocean while innovative restaurants serve up its bounty.

We even tried our hands (and luckily didn’t lose any) at surfing and feeding enormous, hungry crocodiles.

North America:

As hard as it is to arrive at a choice of a favorite on our home continent, after much debate we managed. Having traveled all across the US, actually making it to all 50 states, it was nearly impossible to narrow it down in our own country.

So we thought of Canada.  Among the many great places we have seen in our northern neighbor, Twillingate on the island of Newfoundland came to mind. In fact, we fell in love with the entire island and the fantastic folks there.

But when it came to picking one town, we decided that Valladolid had to be it. Considered to be the most perfectly preserved colonial city in all of Mexico, it was hard not to be completely captivated while wandering its streets.

The combination of the Mayan and Spanish has survived so stunningly that at times we felt as though we had stepped into a time capsule and been transported back a couple of centuries.

Antarctica:

The bottom of the world is the one continent that we have yet to visit so we can’t pick a favorite.

Good thing it doesn’t have any cities so we don’t have to.

David & Veronica, GypsyNester.com

YOUR TURN: What would your picks be? We’d love to hear.

Mama Loves a Ball of Paint

It’s Mother’s Day. This one is a milestone for me. It’s my first without chicks in the nest. I’d received phone calls from all three of my children — each expressed their undying gratitude for spawning them and shared all the wonderful things going on in their busy lives.

Absolutely lovely, everyone remembered me, and no guilt calls would be needed, but now the rest of the day loomed menacingly…

CONTINUE READING >>

In honor of Mother’s Day, and mothers everywhere, we are revisiting this story of our very first Mother’s Day as empty nesters.

It’s Mother’s Day. This one is a milestone for me. It’s my first without chicks in the nest.

I’d received phone calls from all three of my children — the fast-walking, subway-chasing, black-wearing, taxi-flagging NYC urbanite daughters, The Piglet and Decibel, and The Boy sending their love and best wishes.

Each expressed their undying gratitude for spawning them and shared all the wonderful things going on in their busy lives.

Absolutely lovely, everyone remembered me, and no guilt calls would be needed for at least a week.

Now the rest of the day loomed menacingly. This GypsyNesting Mama needed a diversion. It had to be a well established diversion, something so spectacular that any sort of baby-missing hysterics would be averted.

A brunch at a really, really nice restaurant? The thought of just the two of us surrounded by long tables of celebrating families was just begging for a Chernobyl sized meltdown.

The very idea of food reminded me of those wonderful Mothers Day mornings with the pitter-pattering of footy pajamas, dry scrambled eggs with shell fragments and burnt toast served to me in bed. Planning in advance might have been the sensible thing to do, but hey, the plan is no plans.

After discussing a few scenarios, David and I decided that anything even remotely traditional would not do. So what TO do?

Eureka!

We hit the road and headed for the World’s Largest Ball of Paint.

Deep in the heart of Hoosierland lives a man with a vocation spanning forty-five years.

It all started with a happy mishap in 1964. Mike Carmichael and a buddy were tossing a baseball and it ended up in can of paint.

Cross sections of the giant paint ball.

Then an inspiration, — “What would this look like if I continued to coat the baseball, then cut the whole thing in half?”

Encouragement was given by neighbors and kinfolk — then they dissuaded him from splitting the coated sphere. Years passed and Mr. Carmichael was left with a massive orb hanging from a chain in a room of his house. Did his wife mind? Not a bit, Glenda has added over 8,000 layers herself.

After years of keeping his master work strictly among family and friends, the time had come to reveal it to the world. He decided to build a pavilion to showcase the ever-growing globe and the accolades soon followed.

Relocating the 3000 pound work of art meant knocking out a wall of their home and utilizing a forklift for the jaunt to the more fitting domicile worthy of a masterpiece of this magnitude. In doing this Mike proved the theory, “if you build it, they will come.”

People have come from at least twenty-five countries to add another coat of paint and receive a certificate to commemorate the event. One layer even included a marriage proposal (she said yes!). The ball is featured in the Guinness Book of World Records and Ripley’s Believe It or Not as well as appearing on several television networks.

The Carmichaels have met gobs of celebrities who have made the pilgrimage to add yet another layer of pigment. Once David Letterman
made arrangements for Mike to bring the ball to his late night show, but Mike declined, feeling that the orb must be seen in its proper setting. Besides, you never know what might happen to a ton and a half of dried paint turned loose in The Big Apple.

We knew that the 20,000th layer had been recently added and were eager to find out which layer would be ours. This would be a Mothers Day to remember!

The Ball of Paint is viewable by appointment only. We were pleased that Mike would see us on a Sunday (and Mothers Day to boot) with only a few hours notice. What a guy, he must have felt the pain brewing deep within my heart.

Entering the Pavilion, we were struck by the enormity of the situation. The ball is suspended from an iron girder, and is so large that a large mirror is set on the ground below so you can see underneath as you roll on the paint.

After viewing every angle, discussing every aspect and a quick tour of the Pavilion, Mike finally asked us the question David and I were aching to hear, “What color are you going to use?” With a scan of the dozen or so vats of paint, we grabbed our rollers and lovingly added layer number 21,823 which included a Mothers Day stick figure homage to our children.

After completing the task, and adding to the world’s record, we contently began to walk away with our souvenir paint chip, certificate of Coat # 21823 and commemorative tee shirt.

Just out the door, I asked Mike one more question, “What’s your regular job?”

“I’m a painter.”

Perfect.

Veronica, GypsyNester.com

Accidentally Attending the Alarde Festival

As we were approaching the town of Hondarribia on the Camino de Santiago, little did we know that a huge festival was underway… CONTINUE READING >> 

A big thank you to VBT Bicycling and Walking Vacations for providing this adventure, as always, all opinions are our own.

As we were approaching the town of Hondarribia on the Camino de Santiago, little did we know that a huge festival was underway.

Actually, our guide Txaro (pronounced Charo) knew but she didn’t want to spoil the surprise.

See all of our adventures in the Basque Country here.

Our plan was to stop at a small church up on Monte Jaizkibel above the city, the sanctuary of the Virgin of Guadalupe, for a look at the famous Madonna inside. The statue was found centuries ago and is one of only three so-called black Madonnas in Spain.

While we did get a peek at the figure, we had to fight our way through some serious crowds because we had stumbled upon an event that we will never forget.

The festivities were part of the Alarde, an annual celebration commemorating Hondarribia’s survival of a siege by the troops of King Louis XIII of France.

In the summer of 1638, the city was surrounded and the citizens swore to the Virgin of Guadalupe that if they managed to escape they would hold an annual procession to her shrine.

The blockade lasted sixty nine days, but the Basques endured, and now each year they honor their pledge with a party more than worthy of the victory.

The little chapel was overflowing with worshipers attending the special mass that began the proceedings, so we waited outside in what became an incredibly noisy perch overlooking Hondarribia, the Bidasoa River, Txingudi Bay, and France across the water.

Cannon fire was coordinated to punctuate, and we do mean strongly, certain parts of the service, and we just happened to end up right by them as they went off. When a final blast signaled the end of the liturgy, the priest led the congregation out into the streets to begin the parade.

With ears ringing, we watched dozens of men in huge sheepskin hats and long black beards march around the church.

They carried various tools, shovels and so forth, as a reminder of the townsfolk who dug their way past the enemy lines disguised as sheep in order to seek help from neighboring villages.

These guys, called hatxeroak in the Basque language, are without a doubt the rock stars of the spectacle and the crowd went crazy.

Next, several companies of fife and drum corps marched past, followed by a huge troop of riflemen.

The armed contingent stopped in front of the church to fire a salute, the first of much gun fire we would be observing during the day. By now our ears were shot, but we figured out that this seemed to signal that it was time to make way for the city below.

We walked down the path to Hondarribia and prepared for the scene to repeat, but this time with a much larger crowd of spectators.

The entire old town within the medieval walls was wall-to-wall merrymakers. The cobblestone lanes were jammed and every balcony filled with spectators.

In a much larger parade than the one up on the mountain, numerous regiments representing the town’s neighborhoods marched through the streets to the Plaza de las Armas where they gathered and loaded up for numerous volleys.

At the same time the cannons, we think the same ones as before, fired incredibly loud barrages out toward the vanquished French.

Clouds of gun powder induced smoke billowed and hovered over the city.

The smell was something akin to the Fourth of July on steroids.

We had a leg up on blending in because this is Txaro’s hometown, so to help us look like locals she had instructed us to wear white shirts and gave us all red bandanas to wear around our necks.

It was a wonderful touch that, even though we’re sure most folks could tell we were visitors from afar, made us feel right at home.

Feeling a bit less conspicuous, we wandered among the throngs and joined the merriment as artillery and rifle reports, music and peals of church bells surrounded us.

Each square we came to had crowds of revelers singing, waving flags, and drinking beer or cider.

The celebration continued while afternoon turned to evening, and then night, so we crawled into bed while listening to the joviality go on well into the wee hours…

David & Veronica, GypsyNester.com

See all of our adventures in the Basque Country here.

A big thank you to VBT Bicycling and Walking Vacations for providing this adventure, as always, all opinions are our own.