There's a Frank Frazetta Museum.
My girlfriend (at the time) wanted to go camping at the Delaware Water Gap (confusingly not located in Delaware).
She was driving, I was navigating.
Then I saw it on the map:
Frank Frazetta Museum.
After questioning the locals we found it--a modest estate, and a room full of gorgeous originals.
Frank himself is not well, I don't know the medical details but he's not well.
So the person who lets you in, it's his wife.
And if you look at his wife, and look past the chain-smoking and the plastic surgery and the years and the leopard print you realize:
Holy shit, that's the Amazon.
And the Jungle Princess and the Clinging Slave Girl and Vampirella and every other curvaceous babe with wide-set eyes in a Frazetta painting--they were all just his wife. And she sits there at the desk and talks in a voice like Tom Waits, wearing gin-colored pants, wreathed in Merit-smoke.
For complex reasons, the Frazetta Museum may be irrevocably altered for the worse in the near future--if you can get out there soon, I recommend it.