Hamilton Herald Masthead

Editorial


Front Page - Friday, November 20, 2009

Arkansas travelers




Last Friday evening was another drive westbound on I-40, toward Fayetteville and the Ozarks, for a chance to see my daughter and to watch a little football.
In the late-autumn sky, a flock of geese flew high overhead and a long stream of cars filled with other fans and future tailgaters stretched out miles ahead.
We hadn’t gone far, Kathy and I, not even to Morgan, when a couple of wrecks near Mayflower brought us to a standstill. So we crept along, and the drive to Conway lasted over an hour.
In Russellville we stopped at our new favorite I-40 restaurant, CJ’s Burger Boy. When we got there it was packed with traveling Hog fans and hometown Cyclone fans who had a first-round home playoff game in about two hours with Springdale. (Russellville would win 27 to 26, earning them a game the following Friday night with the other Springdale team, Har-Ber.)
It was the second time we’d eaten at CJ’s in a month, and after finishing my 1/3 pounder on this visit, I came to the conclusion that both The Buffalo Grill and Arkansas Burger in Little Rock are better. It even made me want to return to Whattaburger. I still feel ashamed for cheating on them.
Back on the road I drove fast, trying to make up lost time.
When I veered off I-40 onto I-540, just past Alma, it was almost 8 p.m. Traffic was heavy with SUVs and red Hog flags fluttering above their shiny tops. Every few miles I would see large blood stains darkening the highway, which I assumed were from deer, but I never saw a carcass. Kathy was busy playing on her Blackberry.
I would scream, “Look at all that blood!” She’d look up, but always a second too late.
The night was romantic, with Kathy’s face glowing in the light of her smart phone and me spotting blood-stained asphalt.
Adding to the mood, I scanned the radio channels and picked up the voice of Mike Nail as he got ready to call the Razorbacks first regular season game against Alcorn State. We only had eight scholarship players, some of whom were just out of high school. I didn’t know much about Alcorn State, but after winning only two conference games last year, this could be an ugly start to the season. I thought of The Citadel.
Two hours later, a six-foot white kid from Oklahoma with a funny first name had broken a 16-year-old school record for 3-pointers in a game (12) and a 36-year-old school record for most points scored in a game (47). Rotnei Clarke’s 51-point effort earned him the SEC Player of the Week, and Alcorn State lost by 62. I began thinking about upsetting Louisville in St. Louis.
Then I cried out again, “Look at all that blood!” which got the same reaction from my wife.
At last we saw the lights of the campus. I stayed on the highway, heading toward Rogers. The exits were lit up from gas stations and the thousands of hotel rooms. Times had changed since the days when you had to reserve your room for a game weekend 10 years in advance. And if you ever got one, you never let it go. It was passed on to the heirs in your will.
We came to exit 81 in Rogers and saw the Embassy Suites. It looked more like a Las Vegas exit, or at least one in Branson. Ruth’s Chris and Bonefish have replaced Dairy Queen and Mr. Burger.
The next day we took Alexis and her roommate Kelly to lunch at Geraldi’s near their duplex. Kathy went to the restroom and told me what to order for her. Fortunately Alexis was listening because I apparently wasn’t. My waiter picked up on this and thought it pretty funny. He told me his wife had given him a T-shirt that reads: “My wife says I never listen — at least I think that’s what she said.”
After lunch Kathy said she didn’t care about going to the game and asked Alexis if she wanted to see a movie. They decided on “Where the Wild Things Are,” leaving me to go to the game with my friend Fred. Everyone was doing what they wanted, just as it should be.
The next morning after a large buffet breakfast at the hotel, we headed to Eureka Springs. It was a perfect day to walk the limestone sidewalks in front of the art galleries and shops that line both sides of Main Street.
We headed back to Little Rock after a great weekend. But there was one more stop along the way, in St. Joe for some smoked ham at Coursey’s. It’s the best in the world.
Sounds like all I do is eat, huh?