Planet
Wayside
Closed; building demolished
Lowry's Crab Shack
I am sorry to say that one of my first designated Tacky Treasure
Places is no more. The quirky establishment known as Planet
Wayside closed forever in 2006, and the building was razed.
A new building has risen in its place, housing Lowry's Crab
Shack (more on it below). It's sad to lose a place with such
character, but at least the replacement is an equally beloved
local business.
I first visited Planet Wayside in October 2001, while on
forced leave from work due to the anthrax scare on Capitol
Hill. I was still shook up from 9/11, and then this had to
happen. I needed something to cheer me up, but mainly I had
to get away from the city for a while and calm down. Planet
Wayside provided a humorous and somewhat surreal break from
a world that seemed pretty absurd to me at that point. Thankfully,
the laughing cure worked for me again.
On that crisp fall day, I drove into Hamilton and stopped
at a health food store because I couldn't find the restaurant,
even though it was supposed to be right on business Route
7. There were two ladies in the store who described it to
me in this manner:
"It's on the right side of the road. It looks like
a shack."
"There are a lot of weeds growing all around it."
"It looks like something that should be condemned."
"The food's good, though."
At that last statement, they both nodded. Back on the road,
armed with their description, I found Planet Wayside. This
tacky little shed was just as they described. The proprietor
was equally eccentric. As I walked in, I was greeted, no,
let's just say my presence was acknowledged, by a large man
with gray hair wearing a tee shirt that read, "What if
the Hokey Pokey really is what it's all about?" After
giving me a slight nod, he walked away and I asked, "Is
it okay if I seat myself?" He replied over his shoulder,
"Sure, no one else is going to."
I sat at the counter, and looked around. Mr. Hokey Pokey
(owner Tim O'Neil) came over and handed me a menu. There were
also specials on the board: mushroom and spinach quiche, and
something called "Whiskers on Kittens soup." I heard
another customer ask what that meant, to which Tim deadpanned,
"You know those things on the faces of cats," or
something to that effect. The customer didn't ask him to elaborate,
and no one ordered it while I was present.
I ordered the pork barbecue sandwich with cole slaw and an
IPA. My food arrived shortly thereafter: hot, good and freshly
made. I heard that there is a smoker behind the restaurant
because Tim disappeared periodically to tend it. While eating
and listening to "I Could Have Danced All Night"
on the stereo system, I checked out the decor, and found it
most satisfactorily tacky, from the box of Spotted Owl Helper
on the shelf to the series of prints of dogs playing poker.
The counter listed a couple of degrees at one end, but not
on the other. That is to say, its top could not be said to
occupy a single plane. How they kept things from rolling off
it all the time is a mystery to me. Despite the feeling I
got that the whole place was ready to tumble down, it had
a cozy, natural feel. Planet Wayside is tacky, but it isn't
trying to be tacky. It comes by it honestly, something that
ranks high in my criteria for a tacky treasure.
The most entertaining decorative element of the place was
a cariacature of Madeline Albright on one wall, and on the
opposite was a letter from her to the owner. He'd written
an article in the Loudoun Times-Mirror about the time she
showed up at the Planet Wayside, with a full entourage of
Secret Service agents, just because she was in the mood for
some barbecue. Shortly after she left the restaurant, Tim
noticed she'd left her purse behind. He ran out to catch her
before her car left, shouting behind the moving car, with
a purse swinging in his hand. The car screeched to a halt,
and two agents jumped out with weapons drawn. "Don't
shoot! It's not my purse!" he cried. The letter from
Albright apologizes for the mishap and promised next time
not to be so disruptive or forgetful.
Tim was assisted by his wife Suzanne, who shared his quirky
sense of humor. Every question I asked was treated as if it
came from an idiot. For example, I said to Suzanne, "Can
I ask you about the tee shirts?" as I pointed to the
two on display. Her response: "Well, you're looking at
them." Eventually, we came around to the truth of the
matter, and that was that they did have a tee shirt in my
size, and in the color I desired. On the back it read, "I
got my brain transplant at Planet Wayside."
By that time, the stereo was playing "Hotel California."
My food and the shirt were rung up on a 1912 NCR cash register
which Tim pointed out works all the time, even during a power
failure.
The last time I visited Planet Wayside was on the first day
that it reopened after Suzanne's death. Tim still seemed deeply
sad about her death, but happy to see all of his regular customers,
who came to welcome him back. And they were glad to see him,
too. The restaurant hadn't been open an hour before the local
fire department called to order a half a dozen sandwiches.
Update: 2006 -- Tim has reportedly quit the restaurant to
work on his Vietnam memoirs, and has turned the running of
the restaurant over to his son, Morgan. Despite the fire that
destroyed their house, Tim and Morgan managed to save the
box of 3x5 cards containing all of Suzanne's recipes. Whiskers
on Kittens soup lives on!
Update: 2007 -- Planet Wayside is gone; replaced by Lowry's
Crab Shack.
Read More About It:
|

Planet Wayside
Hamilton, Virginia (2001)
From visit on August 31, 2002:

(note change in message
on blackboard)
Some items on
the shelf...

...and some more.
I couldn't get a good shot of the interior,
but here's a nice one from the inside, shooting out:
Favorite slogans on the
outdoor blackboard:
- Did you ever stop to think and forget to start again?
- Enroll to be next Village Idiot!
- Kids named after fish eat free.
- What if the Hokey Pokey really is what it's all about?
- Honk if you're brain dead
- I married Britney Spears, too
- Martha Stewart voodoo dolls sold here
Lowry's Crab Shack

This is certainly a more substantial building than the former
chicken coop that Planet Wayside occupied. It also has a better
floor than Lowry's former location at the farmer's market...it
was gravel.
Bob and I visited Lowry's on March 15, 2008

Bob had the crabcake platter; I had the oyster sandwich. Both
were great. Not every restaurant pays attention to the little
things that matter, like cole slaw, but Lowry's does. The
picture above is the before picture. Here's the
after picture.

I tried the "Tarter Sauce," but it didn't make my
food any tarter.

A testament to the fact that Lowry's has its fans, too.
|