The Virginian-Pilot
                             THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT 
              Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: Monday, September 12, 1994             TAG: 9409100055
SECTION: DAILY BREAK              PAGE: E6   EDITION: FINAL 
TYPE: Column 
SOURCE: Larry Maddrey 
                                             LENGTH: Medium:   74 lines

MADDRY: FOR A HUM-DILLO OF A TIME, HEAD TO THE PARK

ATTENTION BOYS and girls! Would you like to feed a worm to a real armadillo?

Almost sounds too good to be true, doesn't it?

But it's so. Armadillo Jim and the Armadillo Rangers are headed toward Norfolk's Town Point Park faster than you can do a Bart Simpson imitation of ``Are we there yet?''

And they are bringing a corral of armor-plated dillos with them. The armadillo jockeys will be racing the critters across a stage during the Fifth Annual Budweiser Bluegrass Festival & Bar-B-Que Rib Burn Off from Friday through Sunday.

And who - you may well ask - is this Armadillo Jim? Ole Jim is a Texan living down in Comfort, Texas. Born without a full deck, he's been playing with armadillos ever since.

``The worms will be in the dirt pile at the end of a 24-foot racing track,'' Jim said.

Ole Jim said the armadillo jockeys will blow on the tails of the armadillos to set them in motion. Then the critters will run for the dirt pile that has worms in it.

``There's nothin' an armadillo loves better than dirt. The dillo loves it better than Texans love Blue Bell Ice Cream,'' Jim said.

And the kids can feed the armadilloes worms without having to pay?

``That's right,'' Jim said. ``We ask for a quarter donation, but if they can't pay, they can just do it for free. It's the American way.''

I had to back Jim up to learn some more about those dillos and dillo rangers.

Ole Jim said the rangers will not only race dillos but explain them to kids during a ``just say no'' talk on drugs, alcohol and tobacco.

Texan John ``Tall Hat'' Anders, a friend who is columnist for The Dallas Morning News, tells me no one in the Lone Star State has seen a live armadillo in 20 years.

``We call 'em Texas speed bumps.'' Anders said. I think the highway patrol scatters the dead ones hit by cars around so people will slow down.''

Anders says dozens of dillos bite the dust nightly on Texas highways.

``They get a trapped-in-the-headlights or Dan Quayle look to them,'' he reported. ``More of them would survive if they just sat still. But they don't. They panic and jump straight up in the air and are hit by grilles or bumpers.''

When I talked with Armadillo Jim by phone this week, he said he raises armadilloes - named ``Tex,'' ``Stranger,'' ``Danger'' ``Granger,'' and ``Ranger'' - at his house near the Guadalupe River.

``They are about the cleanest animal there is,'' he said. ``You don't have to do much house-breaking because they cover up whatever they do so the wolves or coyotes can't smell where they've been.'' However, Ole Jim concedes their habit creates problems when a dillo breaks bad on the sofa and leaves gifts beneath the cushions.

Armadillo Jim claims lots of Texans ate dillos during the Depression: ``They were called Hoover Hogs down here. I've never eaten one myself. But those who have say they taste like greasy white turkey.''

Dillos aren't on the menu during the weekend activities at Town Point Park, according to Festevents. But there will be plenty to see and do. National bluegrass recording artists such as Bill Monroe and the Blue Grass Boys will pick 'n grin. And que chefs from around the nation will compete for the Best Ribs title.

And not to worry, kids. There will be a Spam-carving contest to watch. . . even if the dirt pile proves wormless. ILLUSTRATION: File photo

Armadillo activities are on the menu this weekend during the Annual

Budweiser Bluegrass Festival & Bar-B-Que Rib Burn Off.

by CNB