Six Frogs Over Tango, Part 2
The Travels of the Tango Frogs
Three of the Tango Frogs relocated to Dallas at Chuy’s on Lowest Greenville. Courtesy Lisa Wade
A Conversation with Monk White
If you’ve ever driven past a taco joint on Lowest Greenville in Dallas and seen giant frogs dancing on the roof, you’ve glimpsed the strange, wonderful legacy of Bob “Daddy-O” Wade—Texas’s unofficial minister of roadside art. But to truly understand the journey of the famous Tango Frogs, you have to talk to one of the men behind the madness: Monk White. Without whom, none of this might have happened.
Monk’s name kept surfacing as I interviewed the people who knew Daddy-O best—Shannon and Angus Wynne, Lisa Wade, and more. So I gave him a call.
“Monk White…” I began. “How do I know that name? Are you from Dallas?”
“I grew up in Fort Worth,” he said. “University of Texas. Then Wharton. Wall Street. Eventually, I came back to Dallas. Spent most of my life there before settling in Austin.”
“Sounds enough like a Dallasite to me,” I told him, mentioning my years in the nightclub scene—back when Greenville Avenue was all neon and attitude. Even did a one-year stint as maître d’ when the Playboy Club opened.
That got his attention.
“Oh my God, really? With Lenny Licht and Joel McQuade?”
“Yep. And a couple of wild years at Papagayo, too.”
He laughed. “Then we’ve definitely crossed paths. My crew ran with the Stoneleigh P crowd, or wherever Shannon or Angus were stirring things up.”
We were already speaking the same language.
Making Art Out of Chaos
I asked Monk how he first met Daddy-O Wade.
“We were connected way back at UT,” he said. “Later, when I returned to Dallas after working on Wall Street, I found Daddy-O a place on the east side. That’s when the art got real crazy. I bought him a shop on Lemmon Avenue—just down from Mother Blues. It became a circus. Half a dozen cars would roll up and we’d take the place over. I was in on most of Daddy-O’s big projects.”
Monk’s name appears over and over in Daddy-O’s Book of Big-Ass Art, a fitting tribute to the man who helped make many of those wild dreams a reality.
The Giant Iguana, sitting on top of Lone Star Cafe in Manhattan in NYC. Courtesy Lisa and Rachel Wade and “Daddy-O’s Book of Big Ass Art”
“Daddy-O was hilarious,” Monk recalled. “Just walk into a room and people would start laughing. He saw the world differently. I once brought back some little iguanas from Mexico—cheap tourist junk. He picked one up and said, ‘I want to build a 36-foot iguana.’ No plan. No hesitation. Next thing you know, we’re fundraising and that thing’s sitting in D.C., then on Wall Street, then on a NYC cafe and now back home in Texas.”
Enter the Frogs
The Tango Frogs started the same way.
“I brought back these little stuffed frogs from Mexico,” Monk said. “Daddy-O took one look and said, ‘Let’s make eight-foot versions.’ And that was that.”
Towering, grinning, frozen mid-boogie—these frogs became icons the moment they hit the roof of Tango nightclub on Greenville Avenue. But when Tango closed in 1985, the frogs went up for auction.
“I think I paid about $2,500 at the auction for them,” Monk told me.
“And Shannon said they cost around $20,000 to make. Sounds like a great deal!” Paul said
Willie Nelson Whiskey River Saloon, Courtesy Debby Pressinger 09-13-2009
Instead of stashing them away, Monk gave the frogs a new stage: Carl’s Corner, a funky roadside stop he co-owned with Carl Cornelius near Hillsboro. With Willie Nelson playing regular gigs there and truckers pulling over for gas, beer, and a photo op, Carl’s Corner became legendary. And the frogs? They fit right in.
Even after the building burned down, the frogs survived; three were out back, and three more were mounted on top of the gas pumps. Later, they appeared at Willie’s Place, then popped up in Houston, Austin, Nashville and then Dallas again—perched above a taco joint near the old Tango location. More on that journey in our blow-by-blow chronology in Part 3 of this series.
Willie, Weed & Unexpected Stages
Not all of Monk’s stories were about sculpture.
“One day, Willie’s tour bus pulled up,” he said. “Now, I’m not much of a smoker, but I took a couple of hits off the bong. Next thing I know, I’m being asked to walk upstairs—where all the sheriffs are—and end up on stage in front of 2,000 people. That boy could get you in trouble.”
We both laughed at that. Because of course he could.
Monk Today
Now 83 (though he swears he feels 65), Monk lives in Austin with his wife Joanne, not far from his two daughters.
“Lost my first wife, but I’ve been blessed to find happiness again,” he told me.
“Congratulations! Still waiting for mine.” I said. Before we ended the call, I said, “If we’d met back in Dallas, I think we’d have been good friends.”
“Absolutely,” he replied.
No doubt about it!
Frog’s get a do-over. Courtesy Faith Schexnayder and Flatfork Studio
The Frog Whisperer
Faith Schexnayder, Flatfork Studio and the Second Life of the Tango Frogs
By Paul Heckmann
The Tango Frogs have traveled a long way from their rooftop boogie days on Lower Greenville. Ten feet tall, mischievously grinning, and full of Texas swagger, they’ve danced their way into state folklore. But to understand how these fiberglass (well, not quite) legends were reborn, you have to meet the artist who gave them a second life: Faith Schexnayder.
I’d been chasing the story of the frogs for a while—talking with Shannon Wynne, Lisa Wade, and Monk White. Their tales were wild, but I knew I needed the rest of the picture. So I picked up the phone and called Faith to find out more about how the frogs were made.
“Faith, this is Paul Heckmann. I’m a friend of Shannon Wynne, Lisa Wade, Monk White… and I’ve been tracking the Frogs!” I said, half-laughing.
She chuckled. “Good luck,” she replied dryly.
“I’ve had these frogs almost going to Japan,” I joked.
“Not quite that far,” she said. “But they did make it to Nashville.”
From Film Sets to Folk Art
Faith’s own journey has been just as colorful as the frogs she revived. She began her career in the Texas film industry, working on big-name productions like RoboCop and television projects with Turner Network and Amblin Entertainment. But over the years, her creativity spilled over into new worlds—designing children’s rooms, building whimsical event installations, and restoring some of Texas’s most beloved pieces of pop art.
Faith and Bob Wade’s giant hamburger for Hilbert’s in Austin. Courtesy Faith Schexnayder
Her first collaboration with Bob “Daddy-O” Wade came in the mid-1990s, when he enlisted her to help repair a few of his offbeat creations, including the iconic Hula Hut fish in the river and a giant hamburger for Hilbert’s Burgers in Austin. Then, in 2010, the Tango Frogs came hopping back into the picture—weather-beaten, bird-nested, and in serious need of TLC.
“They were in bad shape,” Faith recalled. “I mean, missing pieces, flaking paint, nests in their heads. But we got them looking fantastic again.”
Frogs, Flip-Flops, and Faith’s Touch
Working out of her Austin studio, Flatfork Studio, Faith didn’t just restore the frogs—she reimagined them.
She gave one frog a pair of flip-flops. The female frog, previously barefoot, now sported bright red cowboy boots and a little “top tie” for flair. Faith added sculpted pads to their fingers for realism and replaced missing parts with weather-resistant materials. The eyelashes? Not just an afterthought—they’re made from actual Volkswagen Beetle headlight eyelashes, catching the Texas sunlight like winks from a cartoon dream.
“Bob did everything on the cheap,” Faith said with a grin. “So most of the hands-on stuff came down to me and a few others.”
Despite their towering height and show-stopping appearance, the frogs aren’t made of fiberglass, as many, including myself, assumed. Their internal structure is a blend of metal rebar, chicken wire, spray foam, and a durable rubberized coating. They’re sturdy—but moving them is no small feat. It requires cranes, careful planning, and a healthy dose of prayer.
A Traveling Troupe
The Frogs on their way back to Dallas to leapfrog onto the roof of the Chuy’s patio on Lowest Greenville. Courtesy Lisa Wade, Faith Schexnayder and Flatfork Studio
Over the years, the frogs have leapfrogged their way across Texas and beyond: from Dallas to Houston, from Austin to Nashville, and eventually back home again on Lowest Greenville Avenue in Dallas. They’ve lived at Carl’s Corner (where Willie Nelson once helped keep the lights on), graced rooftops of taco joints, and most recently, made their way to Chuy’s and the Truck Yard, just blocks from where they first captivated passersbys in the ’80s.
Originally commissioned by Shannon Wynne for $20,000, the frogs were later sold at auction and scooped up by Monk White for just $2,000. Today, Faith estimates it costs about $10,000 per frog just to refurbish them properly.
“They’re big,” she said, “and they’re built to last—but only if someone keeps loving them.”
The Iguana Mobile & What’s Next
The Iguanamobile, courtesy Bid.AustinAuction.com
Faith hasn’t slowed down. One of her latest projects? The Bambi Airstream, affectionately known as the Iguana Mobile. Originally built to promote Daddy-O’s Book of Big-Ass Art, the trailer is now being stripped down and redesigned as a mobile event service vehicle.
“We’re really bringing it back to life,” she said. “It’s going to be something special.”
More Than Just Frogs
As our call wrapped up, I told Faith she was my final interview for the project.
“Good luck with everything,” she said with a warm laugh.
She reminded me of something that’s easy to forget when you’re staring up at a ten-foot frog in flip-flops: these aren’t just roadside attractions. They’re living stories—full of personality, memory, and the odd bit of mischief.
“Walk past them today,” she said, “and you can almost see the stories they carry. The eyelashes catching the sun, the paint gleaming, the grin just daring you not to smile.”
In the end, the Tango Frogs aren’t just art. They’re Texas. They’re joy. They’re a little wink from the past, reminding us to keep dancing—no matter how weird the tune gets.
Thanks to Truck Yard and Lisa Wade and Faith Schexnayder, who pulled their truck up to the Truck Yard (TY’s Frogs on top of the roof) so that the family of Frogs could croak together for a final time before taking them to their forever (hopefully) home at Chuys on Greenville Ave.
If you want to learn more about Bob Wade and his art, visit www.bobwade.com or check out his books, Daddy’s Book of Big Ass Art and Daddy’s Book of Iguana Heads and Texas Tales. And if you happen to drive past Chuy’s in Dallas, or the Truck Yard just around the corner, look up—you might just catch the Tango Frogs watching over the city, as they’ve done for decades.
Stay tuned for Part 3, with Scot from Chuy’s and their trip through the eyes of the Chuy designer. Also the chronology of Bob Wade’s projects and his various other Projects.
If you missed Part 1, go to https://meminc.org/six-frogs-over-tango-part-1/
Thanks to so many folks for helping out with this Tango Frogs project, including the fella that kicked it off, Shannon Wynne, his brother and MemInc Board Emeritus Angus Wynne III, editing by Mike Farris, the Memories Admins Mark Cheyne, Chris Doelle, all of our 20ish Moderators, Lisa Wade and the spirit of her hubby Bob “Daddy-O” Wade, Scot Aubuchon formerly of Chuy’s, Faith Shexnayder, fixer extraordinaire, Tom and Laura Garrison of the new Stoneleigh P and of course Monk White, without whom a lot of this wouldn’t have come together!
And of course, all the members of our Facebook Groups, Memories of Dallas, Memories of Texas and Memories of Texas Music, who contributed greatly.
If you liked this project, please help us keep them coming. Donate We are a 501c3, Memories Inc, EIN 83-0566883
