Postcard From Transylvania

Transylvania, Louisiana

In the spring of this year, it was time for a New Orleans fix. Since a memorable pre-child time my better half and I had in that fair city in ancient times not long after becoming Mr & Mrs, we've made a trip to The Big Easy every few years. Having introduced Youngest-daughter to the G-rated family-oriented activities of the town (yes, there are a few if you look hard enough), there are now three of us ready for another visit any time we can find 4 or 5 days we are all free.

Driving the scenic route from our home in central Arkansas down Highway 65, Youngest-daughter was asleep in the back seat and The Momma-woman had her nose buried in her iPhone when I passed an odd town limits sign. I mumbled, "I must have seen that wrong. I thought it said 'Transylvania.'" Momma-woman looked up and gave me one of her quizzical looks. "I must have misread that sign," I said. "I could have sworn it said we're in Transylvania."  "As in dark castles and foreboding forests and vampires?" asked my wife. "Yeah, what you said."

Transylvania Elementary School

After passing several modest, but apparently occupied houses along the highway, I spotted a school building; a long abandoned elementary school surrounded by weeds with rusting, derelict playground equipment in a corner of the fenced-in property. And sure enough, over the front door it said, "Transylvania Elementary School." Stopping to take a look into the windows revealed children's desks laying on their sides in disarray, abandoned school books strewn about the floors, holes in the walls and ceiling tiles hanging and fallen.

Rusting playground equipment where laughing
children used to play.

Down the road, the only other thing of interest to be seen was the lonely Transylvania General Store. There were no cars in the pot-holed gravel parking lot and it appeared to be closed. We drove on down the road wondering how this little burg became named Transylvania and then we saw the water tower - a typical looking town water tower painted white. But I've never seen a water tower with "Transylvania" and a big, black bat painted on it!

We stopped to take a few pictures and drove around for a while. The whole time there, we never saw another person except for the drivers of 3 or 4 cars which whizzed past on Highway 65. None of them looked at us, none of them waved; just drove on down the road with eyes straight ahead. Strange. It was quiet. It was a bit eerie. I wondered what happened to the residents we weren't seeing. What happened to the school children? There was nobody around to ask.

Transylvania water tower

I'm not afraid of much in this world, but snakes, vampires and electricity would be at the very top of my short "fraidy-cat" list so, with the sun beginning to set, with visions of who or what comes out after the sun goes down, I made the decision that we too should quickly drive on down the road. Just, you know, because New Orleans was waiting for us.

Postcard From The SPAM Museum - Spam, Spam, Spam

SPAM Museum entrance

Yes, there really is a SPAM Museum - you know, the oft derided, no respect canned meat kind of SPAM. Located at 1101 N. Main Street in Austin, Minnesota, it is 16,500 square feet of SPAM history, SPAM games, SPAM videos, SPAM branded gear and SPAM gifts.

To borrow words from the SPAM web site, "Few experiences in life are as meaningful and meaty-filled as those you'll have at the magnificent SPAM Museum. Referred to by some meat historians as The Guggenham, Porkopolis, or M.O.M.A. (Museum Of Meat-themed Awesomeness), the SPAM museum is home to the world's most comprehensive collection of spiced pork artifacts."

To be honest, even though I've had a few fried SPAM sandwiches in my time, I had no idea there is a SPAM museum. Like most people, I never gave it much thought. But I couldn't pass up an opportunity to check it out when I saw a brochure at a highway rest stop as I was driving into the state of Minnesota and determined it would only be about a 30 mile side trip.

Parking spots are clearly marked

It was fun, it was informative, it was filling (free samples of SPAM) and if you are in the mid-southern part of Minnesota, worth a short detour if for no other reason than to be able to tell your friends you were there!

Pig farmer and his pigs statue in front of the museum

In front of the museum is a SPAM lunch wagon featuring "
Deep Fried SPAM Curds." No, I didn't have any and no, I
don't know what they are. I don't really want to know.

SPAM burger at the SPAM Wagon. Um, no thanks.

Interesting SPAM facts

How they make SPAM

A SPAM ad from the 1930's

The SPAM store in the museum. From SPAM post cards to
SPAM pens to SPAM coffee cups and so much more. If you
can't find a SPAM product here, it doesn't exist!

According to a store employee, their biggest seller lately is
SPAM-labeled shirts!