Old Hat. Round Trip = 1290 miles.
How the miles do fly behind the windshield.
Time flies like arrows - but fruit flies like bananas.
I tripped on up to Columbia, Missouri to pick up Grant for a 1 week Thanksgiving holiday. He had tickets for the last home football game against Texas Tech and thought he would stay to attend the game on Saturday. But then heard that the dorms would lock-down at 5 pm and the game would still be in progress and then the question was how would I meet him and pick up his dirty laundry to take back to Dallas?
Plan B: Skip the game, wait for my arrival around 4:30. Load dirty laundry and computer with Dad immediately upon arrival. Get food. Get sleep. Then get going to Dallas the next day.
While the crowds were still at the game, we found our way to Harpo's downtown where I hoped to get the Missouri cuisine craze "T-Ravs". Game day menu at Harpo's did not include toasted ravioli (T-Ravs), so settled for BBQ chicken wings, though I feel my life is as of yet incomplete without ever having tasted a T-Rav. The game was on TV at Harpo's so we could see the home team Tigers come back and win in the 4th quarter. Also seen were lots of co-eds walking around with fuzzy tiger ear barrettes and some with tiger tails hanging out behind their tight gold and black sweaters. I'm just saying.
The night's stay for us was in Jefferson City (30 miles out of Columbia), the state capitol, where I could save $60 on a motel room over rates in Columbia. I am ALL about value.
Grant slept in the car through all of Arkansas and all of Oklahoma. Not that the natives of those lesser states should take any offense - I'm just saying the boy was tired after staying up most of the night in the motel on his lap top. Mom whipped together the requested quiche Lorraine once we all arrived home. Grant's view, "It is good to be home".
The week on either side of Thanksgiving Day itself was filled with reconnecting with friends. A visit to Garland High to check in on the Might Owl Orchestra, where his 2nd chair cello seat had been filled. Then an afternoon of fire arms shooting, a night of bowling, a couple of afternoons with the Ultimate Frisbee gang and meals out with buddies at the old hangout spots like IHOP and Chik-fil-A. We didn't see that much of him actually. Though we had to work out a car loaning arrangement, as "Ol' Woodrow", the 1998 Oldsmobile 88 seemed to have the started motor go south the first day back. I told him I'd get it fixed before Christmas.
I informed him of my plan to leave at 6 a.m. on Sunday after Thanksgiving for our return to Mizzou. He spent most of the night rattling around getting his laundry done. Once the clean laundry was loaded into the SUV that dark and early morning, he managed to sleep through most of Texas (74 miles) all of Oklahoma, all of Arkansas, and most all of Missouri. He was awaken about 50 miles short of campus by a phone call from one of his friends who has a two-seater sports car and was at the St. Louis airport picking up 2 other friends (and their luggage) - only there was not enough room for 3 people + luggage for both Caroline and the Jersey Kid; Grant had to say "sorry man, I can't help. But good luck with that". [I need to find out how that was handled - as I don't think there is an app for that]
It was a quick unload at the entrance to College Avenue Dorm, I said "finish strong" and left him with new coat, new shoes, re-supplied toiletries kit and new socks all procured on Dad's plastic.
My solo return to Garland was an educational one; and I say that in a good way -and a not so good way. Along I-44 in Lebanon, MO there is a well advertised "Factory Outlet" with "Discount Prices" for Chicago Cutlery and Case (made in America) pocket knives. From my youngest days, a few life lessons were drilled into me;
Don't hitch hike,
Don't ride with strangers,
Don't go into abandoned mines and
Don't wear the same socks a second day.
Also ingrained into my psyche as a small traveler in the back seat of the station wagon was the understanding that ANY private endeavor advertised along the highway was a "tourist trap!" This include reptile farms (which strongly appealed to me), private property caves and the likes of other assorted amusements and retail venues. Well, I not only stopped at the "Factory Outlet" with made in America "Fantastic Discounts", I actually bought a 10 piece butcher block set of Chicago cutlery, a couple of Victornox (Swiss Army) pocket knives and two kitchen utility knives. Getting back on the interstate with a bag of knives, I had all of those earlier admonitions sounding off in my head; "Mark! Are you really all about value? - OR, did you just get sucked into a tourist trap, despite your careful upbringing?"
My second bit of education that Monday return trip was a stop at Wilson's Creek National Battlefield, www.nps.gov/wicr/ southwest of Springfield, MO. This kind of stop was the diametric moral opposite a tourist trap, if it is sanctioned by State or Federal Government, then it is to be considered a high moral calling to stop, see and learn history. So for a mere $5, I toured the visitor's center and pretty much had the loop road around the battlefield to myself on that breezy 38 degree late November afternoon. Wilson's Creek is the site were in 1861, Union General Nathaniel Lyon attacked a force of Confederate soldiers and allied Missouri State Guard troops twice the size of his Federal army. It was a tactical victory for the Confederacy as the Union General was killed after being wounded 3 times, and Major Stugis withdrew the Union Army back to Springfield, having suffered 24% casualties from his army of about 10,000. However, the surprise attack accomplished its purpose and drove the battered rebels and Mo State Guards out of Missouri, preserving this key state for Mr. Lincoln throughout the rest of the Civil War. Always sobering to recall how thousands answered the call to defend the cause with their own blood and walk across ground once strewn with bodies and body parts.
How the miles do fly behind the windshield.
Time flies like arrows - but fruit flies like bananas.
I tripped on up to Columbia, Missouri to pick up Grant for a 1 week Thanksgiving holiday. He had tickets for the last home football game against Texas Tech and thought he would stay to attend the game on Saturday. But then heard that the dorms would lock-down at 5 pm and the game would still be in progress and then the question was how would I meet him and pick up his dirty laundry to take back to Dallas?
Plan B: Skip the game, wait for my arrival around 4:30. Load dirty laundry and computer with Dad immediately upon arrival. Get food. Get sleep. Then get going to Dallas the next day.
While the crowds were still at the game, we found our way to Harpo's downtown where I hoped to get the Missouri cuisine craze "T-Ravs". Game day menu at Harpo's did not include toasted ravioli (T-Ravs), so settled for BBQ chicken wings, though I feel my life is as of yet incomplete without ever having tasted a T-Rav. The game was on TV at Harpo's so we could see the home team Tigers come back and win in the 4th quarter. Also seen were lots of co-eds walking around with fuzzy tiger ear barrettes and some with tiger tails hanging out behind their tight gold and black sweaters. I'm just saying.
The night's stay for us was in Jefferson City (30 miles out of Columbia), the state capitol, where I could save $60 on a motel room over rates in Columbia. I am ALL about value.
Grant slept in the car through all of Arkansas and all of Oklahoma. Not that the natives of those lesser states should take any offense - I'm just saying the boy was tired after staying up most of the night in the motel on his lap top. Mom whipped together the requested quiche Lorraine once we all arrived home. Grant's view, "It is good to be home".
The week on either side of Thanksgiving Day itself was filled with reconnecting with friends. A visit to Garland High to check in on the Might Owl Orchestra, where his 2nd chair cello seat had been filled. Then an afternoon of fire arms shooting, a night of bowling, a couple of afternoons with the Ultimate Frisbee gang and meals out with buddies at the old hangout spots like IHOP and Chik-fil-A. We didn't see that much of him actually. Though we had to work out a car loaning arrangement, as "Ol' Woodrow", the 1998 Oldsmobile 88 seemed to have the started motor go south the first day back. I told him I'd get it fixed before Christmas.
I informed him of my plan to leave at 6 a.m. on Sunday after Thanksgiving for our return to Mizzou. He spent most of the night rattling around getting his laundry done. Once the clean laundry was loaded into the SUV that dark and early morning, he managed to sleep through most of Texas (74 miles) all of Oklahoma, all of Arkansas, and most all of Missouri. He was awaken about 50 miles short of campus by a phone call from one of his friends who has a two-seater sports car and was at the St. Louis airport picking up 2 other friends (and their luggage) - only there was not enough room for 3 people + luggage for both Caroline and the Jersey Kid; Grant had to say "sorry man, I can't help. But good luck with that". [I need to find out how that was handled - as I don't think there is an app for that]
It was a quick unload at the entrance to College Avenue Dorm, I said "finish strong" and left him with new coat, new shoes, re-supplied toiletries kit and new socks all procured on Dad's plastic.
My solo return to Garland was an educational one; and I say that in a good way -and a not so good way. Along I-44 in Lebanon, MO there is a well advertised "Factory Outlet" with "Discount Prices" for Chicago Cutlery and Case (made in America) pocket knives. From my youngest days, a few life lessons were drilled into me;
Don't hitch hike,
Don't ride with strangers,
Don't go into abandoned mines and
Don't wear the same socks a second day.
Also ingrained into my psyche as a small traveler in the back seat of the station wagon was the understanding that ANY private endeavor advertised along the highway was a "tourist trap!" This include reptile farms (which strongly appealed to me), private property caves and the likes of other assorted amusements and retail venues. Well, I not only stopped at the "Factory Outlet" with made in America "Fantastic Discounts", I actually bought a 10 piece butcher block set of Chicago cutlery, a couple of Victornox (Swiss Army) pocket knives and two kitchen utility knives. Getting back on the interstate with a bag of knives, I had all of those earlier admonitions sounding off in my head; "Mark! Are you really all about value? - OR, did you just get sucked into a tourist trap, despite your careful upbringing?"
My second bit of education that Monday return trip was a stop at Wilson's Creek National Battlefield, www.nps.gov/wicr/ southwest of Springfield, MO. This kind of stop was the diametric moral opposite a tourist trap, if it is sanctioned by State or Federal Government, then it is to be considered a high moral calling to stop, see and learn history. So for a mere $5, I toured the visitor's center and pretty much had the loop road around the battlefield to myself on that breezy 38 degree late November afternoon. Wilson's Creek is the site were in 1861, Union General Nathaniel Lyon attacked a force of Confederate soldiers and allied Missouri State Guard troops twice the size of his Federal army. It was a tactical victory for the Confederacy as the Union General was killed after being wounded 3 times, and Major Stugis withdrew the Union Army back to Springfield, having suffered 24% casualties from his army of about 10,000. However, the surprise attack accomplished its purpose and drove the battered rebels and Mo State Guards out of Missouri, preserving this key state for Mr. Lincoln throughout the rest of the Civil War. Always sobering to recall how thousands answered the call to defend the cause with their own blood and walk across ground once strewn with bodies and body parts.
Once home, I just had to know. Was Lebanon, MO a tourist trap or a retail bargain? I priced checked at the local Wal-Mart; my Victornox pocket knives that I paid $16.49 for - available at home for $9.98. That 10 piece butcher block set of kitchen knives - at Wal-Mart the same brand sells a 15 piece set for less than what I paid. I should have listened to my Dad - "It's a Trap. It's a Tourist Trap!"
Admiral Akbar warms the Millennium Falcon
at it approaches the Factory Outlet in Lebanon, Missouri
"It's a tourist trap!"
Now, I guess I have to go home a cut my wrists with Chicago cutlery in order to preserve the family honor.
No comments:
Post a Comment