‘Arkansas Slim’ a talented comedian and musician

A couple of years ago, my sister retired and moved here from Tulsa. Since then she and I have become “Junk Gypsies,” “Dumpster Diving Divas,” “Yard Sale Ya-Ya’s” and “Auction Annies”! We find old, broken stuff, fix it up and sell it. Talk about another addictive hobby!

Re-purposing anything past its prime is not always easy, but the results are sometimes stunning. Since I have been in school the past few years, my sister has been the one to do most of the work. During the summer, we fill up both our garages with “stuff” for her to work on all winter.

Our very first find was, in fact, a dumpster dive. Well not really a dive, more of a drive-by. On our way somewhere, she spied two old rickety chairs beside a dumpster, I did a u-turn, we quickly scoped out the area, decided the chairs were in fact destined for the trash (and no one was looking), snatched them up, threw them in the back of my SUV, and drove sedately away. Well, maybe not sedately; I think my tires squealed just a little bit.

I have learned since this might not be legal, so we try to limit our dumpsterdiving activities. But those chairs turned out so cute! We painted them gray and made new covered seats from red and white chevron fabric, and they were good as new. We market our finds in a wonderful little flea market, True Treasures, which is owned by another Gentry girl. It is located just outside of Bentonville on Arkansas Highway 72. You should all check it out. One of the chairs sold, but we still have the other.

Well, that was the incident that got us started, and it’s been downhill ever since. My car now turns at garage sale signs on its own, whether I want to pass them by or not. The wheel just magically starts turning and, before you can blink twice, the back is full of great finds (and, sometimes, not so great). We have enough whiteelephant gifts to last a lifetime.

But it is just so much fun to take an old brokendown dresser, tighten up its old bones and either add a fresh coat of paint, or just sand the old one off down to the (almost) bare wood. The distressed look is “in” these days so, often, we refrain from repainting. I love both looks.

And sometimes we don’t really know what we will do with a certain piece until we get started on it. For instance, we had a small metal patio set that lacked a top. We had it painted Razorback Red and were trying to decide how to finish it. My sister had laid an old window down on it and when she walked back by, it caught her eye and she decided that it made the perfect table top. She added some chicken wire and plexiglass and voila, a cute patio table!

I started a spreadsheet to keep track of all of our purchases and expenses so I could track how much money we were making and decide when we could retire. The good news is, at this rate, we can both retire somewhere around the year 2080 or so. I’m looking forward to it. Or, in other words, we better not quit our day jobs just yet.

But we do see some beautiful country tracking down yard sales because, usually, the best sales are not in town. If you can find an old farmhouse whose owners have cleaned out the attic for the sale, then you might need two vehicles to haul away your finds. Or you could make several trips — either way works well. We have done both. We have also gotten slightly lost but have always managed to find our way home again before dark — so far, anyway.

Often the items we fix up are really old and, you know me, I start wondering about their history — Just who was it that bought them new? Were they wellloved and well-used? How many years have they been waiting for restoration? I hate that we have become a throw-away generation, so I hope that my sister and I, by doing what we do, can open a few eyes to re-purposing.

So, think twice before you toss that old table in the trash. Think about where it came from and which of your ancestors might have used it. We have a small table that Mom used for many, many years as a telephone stand — this was back when phones were connected to the wall. It had fallen apart, but my sister lovingly put it back together and it now stands in her living room. Every time I see it, I think of Mom. I also think of sitting on the floor next to it and stretching the curly cord as far as it would go so my dad wouldn’t listen to me talk to my friends (or boys). But, if you decide that whatever it is, is too far gone and not worth saving, just strategically place it beside your trash can and give me a call!

Until next time, happy mem’ries!

Tamela Weeks is a freelance writer in the Gentry area. She may be reached by email at tamela.weeks@ gmail.com. Opinions expressed are those of the author.

Several times I have considered writing a ‘cuff about “Arkansas Slim,” the man I mentioned recently. Lloyd “Slim” Andrews was born in December, in a house overlooking Spavinaw Creek, not too far from Bethel Cemetery, just south of Gravette.

Lloyd was the seventh son of George Willis and Norma Andrews. His twin brother died in infancy. Lloyd grew tall and slender, hence the nickname “Slim” which followed him in a lifelong career of slapstick comedy, movies and entertainment until his death, April 3, 1992, just a few miles from his place of birth.

His life story is one of hard work, lucky breaks, no drinking or smoking, love for his fellow man, especially children, fishing and especially with his wife, Lucille. They celebrated 63 happy years together. She followed him in death in just three months, June 2, 1992. Both are buried at that cemetery in Bethel, that pioneer “community” that had existed many years before Gravette was even imagined.

Slim enjoyed talking, spinning yarns about his childhood, his travels through the country and even to England and aptly describing his fishing catches. His eternal smile endeared him even to those who couldn’t begin to comprehend his musical talent and his witty tale-telling ability.

Slim remembered, during my visit with him in 1988, just before he was featured on an AETN program, how his classmates teased him because of his long, lanky body and the harelip with which he was born. Later corrective surgery helped but it was that ridicule, Slim declared, that “gave me an inner desire to make good.”

It began with the $600 he made raising strawberries one year on an acre of land his father set aside for his project. He was able to buy an old Model T. His inventive spirit led him to tinker with the auto frame. Slim built himself a “racer.”

“I never raced it,” he chuckled. “I just liked to drive fast.”

The teenager was a natural musician, although he could never read a note. And that tinkering ability showed up in many original, laughable “instruments” he created and which became his musical trademark.

Slim said — not bragging, but matter of factly — “They said I could play a hundred instruments.”

That might have been an understatement.

Driving, not racing, on the muddy or dusty roads in the Gravette area led to his trip to Decatur one day in 1924. Slim was barely 18 years old. He caught the eye of a traveling salesman who made stops in towns throughout the South. “Watso the Musical Wizard” happened to be performing in Decatur that day. The Wizard needed transportation (Slim didn’t relate why) and, seeing Slim’s unique car, “struck a deal with me (the Arkansawyer) to tour with him.”

His career began. He was known in those days as a “Toby” comedian, a term for a country bumpkin character in traveling show-biz acts. Slim said Watso (Earl Watson) taught him musical tricks and honed his comedy act during a year-long tour that took the traveling pair as far east as Alabama, along the Gulf Coast and even to New Orleans.

Slim described his role, his act, this way: “I’d be all dressed up in a country outfit. I wore a red wig and had freckles painted on my face. During the act, I’d come in stomping and singing ‘ice cold hot dogs, red hot pop.’”

Watson would intercept this “stranger.” “He’d tell me to ‘sit down, boy, I’m trying to entertain.’” To which Slim would reply, “Yeah, tryin’ is right,” and the show would really begin.

After about a year, Slim decided to go out on his own. He booked some shows where he combined his comedy act with his indescribable musical instruments. It was during this self-tour the manager of a Nebraska tent show act, “the Chick Boyes Players,” saw Slim and hired him. They played throughout the Midwest, where Slim developed and further refined the acts that served him well a few years later.

It was during a trip home to Gravette that he met and fell in love with Lucille Kinsey in Siloam Springs. They were married Oct. 9, 1929. She joined him on the circuit and “We’ve been courtin’ ever since,” Slim declared with a proud and contented smile.

It was 10 years later, in 1939, that Slim’s break into the “big time” occurred. I’ll recall that talk with him next time. In the meantime you might enjoy seeing the interesting exhibit about “Slim” which the Gravette Historical Museum has on display at the city hall in Gravette.

Dodie Evans is the former owner and long-time editor of the Gravette News Herald. Opinions expressed are those of the author.