It’s road trip time! 🚗💨💨💨
For the last several years (when I’ve actually been in town), my sister and I have taken our dad on a Father’s Day road trip.
In the United States (as well as Canada, the United Kingdom, and several other countries), Father’s Day is celebrated in June. Many predominantly Catholic countries, including Spain, Italy, and Croatia, celebrate it on March 19, which coincides with the Feast of Saint Joseph (Jesus’ papa).
Our tradition is usually centered around either a Presidential Museum/Library or a Civil Rights Museum.
The last two years we’ve visit Presidents: the Abraham Lincoln Museum and Library in Springfield, IL and the Dwight D. Eisenhower Library and Museum in Abilene, KS.
Several years ago, we visited the National Civil Rights Museum at the Lorraine Motel in Memphis, TN where Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated. I was so moved by the stories curated in this museum that I cried many times. It is exceptionally well done and extremely educational, powerful and deeply impactful.
In my opinion, every American should visit at least once. If that’s not possible, a video tour online is the next best thing.
This year, I tossed around a couple of ideas to see what he would prefer.
Option 1: Visit the grand opening of Obama’s new Presidential Center in Chicago. This is top billing on all of our lists but the grand opening might be too many people.
Option 2: Drive to Grand Rapids, Michigan to see Gerald Ford’s Presidential Museum. The weather would be cooler than KC this time of year. It has potential and is a big selling point.
Option 3: Head south to Starkville, Mississippi, to visit the Ulysses S. Grant Presidential Library. (His tomb is in New York City, which naturally brings up the age-old joke: “Who’s buried in Grant’s Tomb?”)
My dad had an idea of his own. For several years he has wanted to visit The Legacy Museum and National Memorial for Peace and Justice in Montgomery, Alabama. Both sites explore the history of slavery, racial discrimination, and lynching in America.
It’s an extremely difficult subject but also a necessary one.
Off to Alabama we go! 🚗💨💨💨
Let the 12-hour, two-day journey begin!
We left last night (Thursday) after my sister and I got off from work and pointed the car in the direction of West Plains, MO our first stop for the night.
We arrived after dark, but the town seemed quaint, clean, and welcoming. We stayed at
a Holiday Inn, which was comfortable and had a surprisingly decent breakfast.
But in the morning, with the sun on the rise, as I sat on the bed looking out the large window facing the main road, one thing stood out.
West Plains isn’t unique in this regard, it’s become a carbon copy of hundreds of small towns across America.
Corporate America has won.
Here’s what I saw:
● Taco Bell
● Arby’s
● KFC
● McDonald’s
● Walmart
● Big Lots (a discount furniture store)
● Gas station: $3.57 per gallon
Every piece of architecture was uninteresting.
Nothing was walkable.
Driving is required.
And it is clearly designed to make us spend more money, move less, and eat more (processed food).
Please don’t misunderstand me and send hate mail. (Actually, if it makes you feel better, go ahead. I have broad shoulders.)
I love America.
I want the best for Americans…including myself.
But is this really what we want?
Are we living our best lives by eating this slop they serve up and buying a bunch of crap that we don’t need but social media influencers tell us we are keeping up with the Kardashians if we have it?
In a world where we can “have it all” and design and create anything we can imagine…is this it?
This isn’t about West Plains – it’s a nice little town with lovely people. Dick Van Dyke was born here and many Pro Baseball players hail from here.
The bigger questions are…
Why have we allowed big corporations to ruin our cultural and what are we going to do to fix it?
Is this really as good as it gets?
I saw a post on social media when I woke up which somewhat inspired this part of the blog.
Take a close look at these photos. What do you think? Do you miss art, character, and creativity in our everyday spaces and wish we had more walkable communities?
I digress…
To reach Alabama, we drove through parts of five states: Kansas, Missouri, Arkansas, Tennessee, and Mississippi. 😳
We stopped in Tupelo, Mississippi (birthplace of Elvis Presley) for lunch. We were looking for at a local spot featuring Southern style, soul food and found just what we were searching for at Aunt B’s Soul Food Restaurant.
It’s a family owned and operated restaurant. And we practically met the whole family.
Sadly, Aunt B, the namesake of the restaurant passed away a few years ago but her recipes and stories live on through her family members. ♥️
The lunch special included one meat, two sides and a roll or cornbread for $11.99.
Our waitress, Aunt B’s great-great-niece, walked us through the menu, explained how many of the dishes were prepared, and provided solid recommendations.
My dad ordered: baked chicken, cabbage (which was cooked with turkey neck), fried okra, and a roll.
My sister had: fried chicken, mustard greens, many local diners favorite, pinto beans, and cornbread.
And I had: fried chicken, fried okra (my favorite), candied yams, another favorite of the locals and cornbread.
The food may not look fancy in the photos.
There were no designer plates or cutlery.
No artisanal garnishes.
No chef using tweezers to place a single microgreen.
But good Lord, it was some of the most flavorful, delicious home-cooked food I’ve eaten anywhere in the United States.
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
10/10.
Would absolutely return if I ever find myself in Tupelo again.
We mainly did a lot of driving today so…
One final story from the road.
When I told my dad and sister what happened, I could barely contain my laughter.
Picture it. Midday. Jonesboro, Arkansas.
We needed a bathroom break and a chance to stretch our legs.
I pulled into McDonald’s because, regardless of your opinion of the food, their restrooms are usually dependable.
My dad and I went inside.
He returned to the car while I stayed behind because my sister wanted fries and a drink.
I used one of those fancy self-order kiosks. Since I’m now doing the job of cashier, I expect a pay raise and perhaps a holiday bonus.
I punched the buttons for the fries and then I ordered two drinks. An iced-tea with lemonade for me and something called a “Dirty Dr. Pepper” for my sister.
Apparently, she had been wanting to try one. I had never heard of it.
For those equally confused (like me):
“A Dirty Dr Pepper is a non-alcoholic soda drink made by adding vanilla syrup and coconut cream cold foam to Dr Pepper.”
Here is a recipe if you’d like to make one of your own.
After finishing my order, I planned to pay with cash.
Naturally, this required a paper ticket from the machine so a cashier could complete the transaction.
You may be wondering the same thing I did…why I couldn’t simply order from the cashier in the first place.
Excellent question.
Life remains a mystery.
Anyway, the machine failed to print my ticket, so I approached the counter.
The cashier stared at me with a blank look on her face.
I explained that the machine must be out of paper because I never received a ticket, but my order number was 875.
She shrugged. “Yeah, it probably is. Those machines always run out of paper. But that’s not my job.”
Okay. Fair enough.
She read back my order and handed me a cup.
Confused, I asked, “What’s this for?”
“Your sweet tea. It’s over there,” and pointed to the station with the soda machine and two big metal containers with sweet and unsweet iced-tea.
“Oh, I ordered an Arnold Palmer.”
Without missing a beat, she replied: “I don’t know who he is.”
At that point, I was trying very hard not to laugh.
Her coworker jumped in. “No, she ordered tea and lemonade. The beverage station has to make it.”
I waited about five minutes (at least) for them to set the two drinks on the counter.
The Dirty Dr. Pepper was exploding out of the top of the lid like a third-grade science fair volcano but nobody seemed to notice and nobody seemed to care.
I couldn’t help but laugh at this bizarre spectacle unfolding at a McDonald’s in Jonesboro, AR.
It was like I was experiencing an alternate reality. Was I in the Matrix?
I step over to the condiment counter to grab some napkins to clean up the mess and two straws.
A random lady (turns out her husband works there and she was waiting for her free cup of coffee that he gets as a perk) shows up out of nowhere and says to me, “Oh. Yep. Uh huh. That happens all the time. Those Dirty’s are always overflowing.”
Once the drink was somewhat contained, I inserted a straw.
This was apparently a terrible mistake.
The moment the straw hit the cup, soda launched upward and splattered across the counter and floor.
The random free coffee lady chimed in again, “Oh. Yep. Can’t use a straw with those Dirty sodas. The carbonation, cream, and straws don’t like each other. Nope.”
Thanks for stating the obvious, Sherlock.
Apparently, everyone in Arkansas knew this except me.
Still, nobody noticed the disaster unfolding all over the counter from this damn drink. I cleaned it up as quickly as I could, grabbed the fries, and got out of there.
Back in the car, my family was completely confused by my extended absence.
After explaining the entire ordeal, I finished with: “If that’s our best and brightest, we are screwed.” …but it made for a great memory and a funny story to tell at parties.
And on that note…that’s all for today from the road. To be continued…
Much love & gratitude. Namaste 🙏
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We didn’t bring Ellie, my sister’s dog, on this trip, but she’s here in spirit. Just look at this adorable sticker on my sister’s car. 🐾
