Six Frogs Over Tango, Part 3
Scot Aubuchon
The Frog Herder of Chuy’s
When Scot Aubuchon introduces himself, he does it with a wink toward history.
“My name’s Aubuchon — A-U-B-U-C-H-O-N. It’s French and loosely translates to ‘the cork,’ so I guess I had winemakers in my past somewhere,” he told me.
I laughed and offered my own: “Heckmann in old German means the guy that trims the hedges. Back in the old days, hedges were the fences in much of Germany. So here we are — a cork guy talking to a hedge trimmer.”
That lighthearted exchange set the tone for a conversation that traced the improbable journey of six fiberglass frogs — Bob “Daddy-O” Wade’s Tango Frogs — from a Dallas rooftop to truck stops, patios, and finally back home again under Aubuchon’s watch.
From Busboy to Decor Manager
Aubuchon joined Chuy’s in 1986, just a few years after Mike Young and John Zapp opened the original restaurant on Barton Springs in Austin.
“I opened the second Chuy’s up on North Lamar,” he recalled. “I started off bussing tables and just kind of worked my way up. Been around ever since. I know where a lot of the bodies are buried, so to speak.”
Decades later, he became Chuy’s decor manager — the man responsible for bringing the chain’s quirky visual identity to life in new locations. “Basically I worked with development on the construction side. New openings, new designs, all that,” he said.
It was in that role that he inherited an unusual side job: caretaker of Wade’s giant frogs.
The Frogs on the Move
Wade’s Tango Frogs first captured imaginations in the early ’80s, perched on the roof of Shannon Wynne’s Dallas nightclub Tango. When city officials debated whether they were art or signage, the frogs became local legends. Eventually, Mike Young bought them and brought them into the Chuy’s family.
That began a decades-long game of musical chairs, with Aubuchon as the reluctant frog wrangler.
“I’ve basically been a frog herder for 20 years,” he laughed. “I’ve moved these things six times now.”
This list is Scot’s road trip with the Frogs:
From Houston’s “Crystal Palace” Chuy’s on Richmond, where they lived behind the bar,
To the Shenandoah Chuy’s building,
Then back to Austin for refurbishing,
Off to Nashville, where they topped the downtown location around 2012,
Returned to Austin once again for another refresh,
And finally, trucked back up I-35 for their homecoming at Chuy’s on Greenville in Dallas.
On that last trip, Aubuchon couldn’t resist turning it into a rolling spectacle. “We put them on a flatbed truck and toured 35 a little bit. We stopped at Carl’s Corner, and as soon as we pulled up, the women there said, ‘Oh, the frogs are back!’
They came out, hugged them, took pictures. Even the mayor came out. It was like a reunion.”
Stories from Carl’s Corner
That pit stop brought out stories of the old truck stop’s wilder days. “They told me Carl’s Corner used to have an RV park with a pool out back,” Aubuchon said, shaking his head. “They said it was kind of like a mini-brothel. Truckers would call ahead and reserve an RV.”
He paused, then chuckled. “Now, I don’t know how much of that they’d want published. But man, the stories people tell when those frogs show up…”
Frogs, Fish, and Big-Ass Art
Through the years, Aubuchon came to know Bob “Daddy-O” Wade himself.
“He was just one of those guys who could make you laugh as soon as he walked in the room,” Aubuchon said. “I met him when we first refreshed the frogs. Such a creative spirit. You know, one time he even had one of his giant fish sculptures on top of the Knox-Henderson Chuy’s building. Today it’s sitting out in Lake Austin by the Hula Hut.”
Like Wade’s other oversized creations, the frogs weren’t just decoration — they were conversation pieces, roadside attractions, and living folklore.
The End of an Era
After 39 years with Chuy’s, Aubuchon’s time with the company is winding down. The chain was recently acquired by Darden, and his department is being phased out. “It’s a gut punch,” he admitted. “I even asked if I could buy the frogs. They’re too cool for Darden, if you ask me.”
Still, he takes pride in their journey — and in his role as their shepherd. “When we brought them back to Greenville, three blocks from their original spot at Tango, it just felt right. From a marketing standpoint, it was a no-brainer. From a cultural standpoint, it was bringing them home.”
For Aubuchon, the frogs represent more than rebar, structure, molding and paint. They are proof that art can take on a life of its own — moving across states, stopping traffic on I-35, sparking rumors in truck stops, and reminding people of Dallas nightlife in the ’80s.
“I’ve been their frog herder for 20 years,” he said with a grin. “Not a bad legacy to leave behind.”
