He was having a barbeque one day, setting up camp another. Once time, he wore a snowsuit. Another, he wore his birthday suit. His antics and outfits change daily and he’s beginning to garner the attention of passing motorists. They just wonder, “What’s George going to do next?”

On Castle Rock Farm near the intersection of Houston County Road 21 and Minnesota Highway 16 is where George lives, a mannequin that’s dressed (or undressed) to the hilt by Nancy Langen, who lives on the farm and is George’s main caretaker. Since May, Langen has been sneaking out after dark each night with an armload of props, changing George’s costume and position so morning commuters get a new “look” every morning.

It all started when a friend of Langen’s son found the discarded mannequin in a dumpster. Soon, it ended up on the Langen farm so the kids could horse around with it. They started by placing him by a utility pole, then got more creative and put him atop a tractor. Fooled motorists would drive past and beep at George.

“People thought that was kind of neat, so it just went on from there,” Langen said.

Langen has a scrapbook full of photographs of George’s activities and letters sent to and from George.

From George?

Well, at one point, George was kidnapped. A couple days went by and Langen received a letter in the mail. It read:

“Good news, I’ve escaped (my captors). Bad news, I’m in Mexico, can’t get over the fence without my arms. I’m trying my darndest to get back home. I can’t get work here. No vegetable picking for armless mannequins.”

Another letter followed.

“Glad to let you know I got out of Mexico with the help of a new friend named Pedro. He has arms, but no legs, so we help each other out. We’re traveling around a little. Hope to get work to make enough money to get home.”

Eventually, George found his way back to his home near Hokah. Langen admits she doesn’t know exactly who was behind the heist, but guessed it was a relative, maybe a nephew perhaps.

Then, there are the letters to George from secret admirers whose hearts flutter at the thought of him. One note Langen found taped to his arm one day read:

“George. I can’t stand it any longer. I must have you. I sincerely hope you are not involved seriously with anyone at this time. I have heard about your extensive, sometimes dangerous adventures and world travels. I want you to know they are all a real turn-on.”

The letter, in lustful detail, went on from there.

Other people have sent letters to Langen simply thanking her for putting a smile on their face when driving to work each morning.

Many times, passers-by will slow down for a closer look or actually drive in to inspect. Many take photographs. Langen appreciates most of the attention George gets from interested drivers. Most.

One evening, Langen got a call from the Houston County Sheriff’s Department. The sheriff told her his department had gotten an awful lot of 911 calls that day from people who said they saw someone lying on the road. That day, George had fallen off a bicycle and was strewn, in pieces, about the pavement.

“Would you maybe want to go move your guy?” the sheriff asked Langen. “And don’t put him in any more compromising positions.”

George is no longer in the scene of any grizzly accidents, but in other ways, he’s still compromising n even a bit risqué. On certain days, George can be seen playing a guitar with only the guitar covering his loins. On others, George might be free as a bird perched upon a tractor.

“There’s a lot of these older ladies; they like it when he’s naked,” Langen said with a laugh. “I hate to have him naked too much, you know?”

Ever since Langen started setting George out, she’s never had him in the same situation.

“It just comes to me,” she said. “Usually, we’re milking and I keep thinking and about 9 o’clock, something will come to me.”

Though Langen maintains her children are embarrassed by all the attention George receives, she’s allowed him to make personal appearances. She has photos of George at a wedding reception acting as the bathroom attendant, receiving kisses and most impressively, dancing with the bride.

“By the end, they had him ripped in half and the little girls where carrying him around,” Langen said.

The next day, George was on the road, slumped over in a chair with a sign next to him reading, “Too much partying.”

Langen said she attends to George day in and day out because of the enjoyment it brings others. She’s heard countless times how seeing him breaks up the day and gives people something too look forward to. However, his days, at least this year, may be numbered. Once the snow flies, Langen might pack George up until spring. However, he could be seen on special occasions.

“People ask about Halloween, and then, ‘You’ve got to do something for Christmas,’” she said. “I don’t know if we’ll do it next year or not. It depends how much people want it.”

If the love letter is any indication, people want George.