120 Spring Street
Evolution was devised by a mad scientist. Hanging from the walls are the carcasses of former fauna: preserved armadillos, beavers, bison, and opossums, mounted in animated poses. Rows upon rows of hanging frames where one might expect preserved butterflies, one instead sees a bestiary of arthropod oddities in myriad colors; some iridescent, some patterned, others ominously black. In the glass cases iron pyrite ammonites sparkle next to a wide selection of freeze dried bats, scorpions, and beetles, preserved in a variety of media. Some are suspended in fluids, some preserved in glass. Others are turned into jewelry.
Evolution could have been the primary decorator for The Hills Have Eyes. This is golgotha americana at it's best. Dozens of rattlesnake vertebrae necklaces hang on a rack made from a thighbone. Lollipops of different flavors contain the famed psychedelic mescal worms. On a bowl on the table contains (of all things) an inexhaustible supply of raccoon penis bones; a definite party favor for the next birthday. One laundry basket is filled with coyote skulls, only $20 each. Human skulls and fanciful items such as spurious alien artifacts line the shelves, accompanying biology books and framed antique anatomical illustrations.
Most remarkable, prices for virtually everything are reasonable... though it is hard to be sure what to compare it against. The vending tables at a roadkill marketers convention? I'd best stop writing about Evolution now... thinking about the freeze-dried mice (for only $29) is making me kinda hungry.
Commentary by Clifford H. Low, Monday, December 29, 1997.