Arkansas February 17, 2016
Posted by indigobunting in Uncategorized.trackback
I dipped a toe in, once.
I was thirteen years old. My parents’ friend Ruth took me on a trip to Memphis, on a plane. (I think I’d been on a plane once before, as a small child, before logging memories.)
A couple of years earlier, Ruth had fixed me up with her niece, Margaret, in a pen-pal situation. I was going with Ruth to visit the family and hang out with Margaret.
It was a fun trip, but a stressful one that included a severe sunburn, insomnia, and ill-timed menses.
They drove me all around Memphis, past Graceland, where Elvis still lived.
Then we crossed the Mississippi into West Memphis, just so I could say I’d been to Arkansas.
Truly, I would love to see some of Arkansas. I have a couple of dear friends who grew up there. They represent well.
I’d like to check out the hot springs, play outside.
Maybe I can approach that Gulf states tour from just north.
Been there?: Yes but No
Arkansas is gorgeous. Yes. Go.
I am such a redneck in terms of my completely uninformed opinions about states like Alabama and Arkansas.
One reason I feel I should visit is that my opinions aren’t that well informed either…