Flat.
I like to think that I am fairly resourceful with words, and actually get my jollies by stringing together perfectly chosen terminology in hopes of painting an accurate picture of the scene in question. If there were a flashy description for the dry and desolate section of Texas known as the panhandle, I would use it, but there is no way around it. The panhandle is, in a word, flat. Anything that sticks up from unendingly level horizon is sure to grab your attention-especially if that protrusion is a giant pair of concrete legs jutting out of a dusty field.
If you believe everything you read these two “vast and trunkless legs” inspired the poem “Ozymandias” written by Percy Bysshe Shelley in 1818. In fact, according to the Texas Historical Plaque erected near the concrete gams, Percy and the misses- Mary Shelley of Frankenstein fame-came across this out of place creation as they rode horse back across the panhandle. Reading further, you learn that the “shattered visage” mentioned in the poem was destroyed by Lubbock football players as revenge for a loss in a grudge match, and can now be seen at the Amarillo Museum of Natural History.
Perhaps it is the unwavering heat on the plains that convinces visitors to buy into this disjointed and fabricated history, but scores of unsuspecting roadtrippers call the Chamber of Commerce in hopes of finding the fabled “Amarillo Museum of Natural History” and storied visage. (Pssst….they do not exist.) The more skeptical who stand in the shadow of the towering appendages will learn that they are the work of Lightenin’ McDuff, an eccentric artist who was commissioned by the even more eccentric millionaire Stanley Marsh 3 to build the legs.
Taking a page from another Stanley Marsh inspired classic (Cadillac Ranch), visitors take pride in finding a weak spot in the barbed wire that cordons the legs to scale the statue and add a spray painted adornment. Over the years they have sported striped tube socks, tennis shoes, and flip flops. More often than not, the toes are the recipients of a fresh Krylon pedicure in a variety of shades and colors.
Dwarfed by a three story half-leg bearing a neon pink pedicure, you just can’t help but put your hands on your hips and wonder why. Stanley Marsh has the answer. “It’s a poem about the futility of building monuments, so, of course, I built a monument to it.”
Directions to Ozymandias Legs: Sundown Ln. and I-27, Amarillo, TX. The legs are visable from I-27.
~Today I am linking up with Travel Photo Monday at Travel Photo Discovery~
Sometimes its better to not know why but just take it for what it is and enjoy and perhaps it adds quickly to the patina to of a particular location. It is amazing how this sticks out like a sore thumb in such a flat environment.
Okay, I think I'll add this to my list of places to see when we explore the panhandle too. I am, afterall, fascinated with roadside attractions.
Well, I have never seen anything like it – it certainly stands out in its flat surrounds – and you do wonder "why"?
Have a great week. I am joining you through Travel Photo Monday.
This is Texas or maybe I should say, I'm not surprised it's in Texas.
Odd that nobody speaking about the Texas version of “Ozy Mandias” talks about Percy Bysshe Shelley, who wrote the poem. And when reading about “Ozy Mandias” also known as Egyptian Pharaoh “Ramesses II”, there is no mention of the one in Texas.