Finding Uranus sounds gross when you say it aloud, but seriously… wait… who can be serious about a town named Uranus?
For miles before we got here we read billboard signs, “The best fudge comes from Uranus.”
With marketing like that, you have to stop and see what it is all about. We met up with another photographer – Jax. She showed us around Uranus (okay… it’s really hard to write this with a straight face) and introduced us to Louie. Louie quickly showed us his latest creation – the Axe Hole, but then he was off doing something else.
About 16 years ago Louie Keen bought this place and self-proclaimed himself, “Mayor of Uranus.”
As Louie puts it, Uranus is not a town, but a destination. His marketing gig is to play off the word Uranus. As you can imaging, they do a lot of joking about Uranus. This stripmall (of a sorts), features an Old West look nestled in the Ozarks of Missouri.
Inside the fudge shop you find all sorts of candies, and of course, fresh homemade fudge. I bought a pound. Good stuff comes from Uranus. (Smack me if I keep this up.)
I’m all set with candy for the rest of the trip. In addition to fudge, I bought some saltwater taffy.
I think Louie goes around looking for things that will add to his little town. Take this, for example, a carnival ride named the Astro-Liner.
What does the Astro-Liner do? Searches for Asteroids, of course. As you can see it is poised for some serious probing.
Moving Right Along
We followed Jax in to the next town down the road. Waynesville is where we stopped with Jax and she introduced us to her friends at the little cafe there. Jax treated us to lunch and we enjoyed talking to the cafe owners as well as other customers. (This place is quite popular, yet still has a homey, comfortable feel.)
Outside we visited with some of the locals. It turns out there is an Army Base close by and many of the wives hang out here.
Everyone was friendly and let us take their pictures. We had a great time finding out about the area and the people who live here.
Almost Got a Car
I love the late model Camaro. If I had the money I’d be driving one. So, this lady drives up in a yellow 2018 Camaro. I yell, “Hey, your driving my car.”
She turns around, about the time I snap this picture, and says, “Oh, are you the guy I’m delivering the car to?”
I told her I was not, but I wish I was and we both had a good laugh. She assured me had I gone on to say I was that she would have asked for identification.
Monger Moss and meeting up with Gee.