I always get nostalgic around this time of year and a bit misty-eyed. On this day in my personal history, I left for Austin after two and a half years in Bloomington-Normal, IL and eight years in the Midwest. I had made great friends: Lester Smith, Steve & Patty Bryant, Rad Masinelli, Rob Lazaretti and Christina Cole; I even had an improved bonding with others I already knew: Phil Tobin and Paul & Helen Silder (courtesy of monthly trips to Chicago). Even the year 1993 was a period of me on the mend after the GDW debacle. Then I had a series of horrible realizations after I turned 25 and the biggest one was that having a college degree in Central IL was a liability, not an asset.
After Paul & Helen got married, the gears were in motion for me to get the hell out of dodge in six months. The original plan was to move back to Milwaukee since I was more familiar with there than Chicago. Then my friend Lee “Doc” Rhea convinced me to come to Austin instead. This was quite a gamble. I had never been to Austin, I only had the horrible description of my mother’s trip in 1983. As Winter settled in and it turned out to be the infamous cold-snap of 1993-94 (remember the day there was so much snowfall that ATMs were knocked out?), Austin clearly became the winner. There was still a lot of fear and worry with this decision until I was having lunch by myself at Taco Bell in December 1993. I was horribly depressed and sad. Then I heard the restaurant’s music system playing “Goodnight Song” by Tears for Fears and when Roland Orzabal sang “I thought about it once or twice/But nothing ever changes unless there’s some pain.” I never looked back again, especially when I turned in my two weeks with DG after the Christmas.
And so, I had returned the day before from my final weekend of having fun in Chicago with the Silders, Phil and the Bryants. Someone was nice enough to give me a ride to the Bloomington airport for my rental car pick up. I lucked out on the free upsizing to a mid-size because I loaded that car with way too much junk, most of which I ditched by 1997. The vehicle was loaded by 1030 AM which was a miracle for me, then again, I was living out of boxes since I moved back in with Grandma in August. I said my farewells to my grandparents. They were pretty shocked too. They probably thought I had been bluffing all along. This also prompted a phone call from my mother offering me a chance to give Raleigh-Durham another try. I responded that I would rather live in a dumpster in Austin than there.
I hit the road by 11 AM, south on I-55 with the goal of Memphis that day. There was a long detour in Springfield to see the old house I grew up in from 1979-82. After that house, my life had definitely changed with the move to Houston so I wanted to see it one last time. My geographical knowledge of Springfield was pretty lousy too since finding the house and White Oaks Mall took an hour; I took the wrong exit from I-55.
Back on the road by 2 PM, still south on I-55 to St. Louis. Arrived there around dinner time. Once again, screwed up on the exits. Had to drive around a bit to hit the Arch. Checked out the musuem underneath. My fear of heights prevented me from taking the elevator up and this is the place where I discovered the problem when I turned six. Then dinner at Jack in the Box which signifies when you’ve crossed the Mississippi River; this fast-food chain doesn’t exist in the other Midwestern states.
The distance between St. Louis and Memphis wasn’t as long as I recalled from 1982. Then again, my father was driving, we were exhausted from loading two vehicles, we didn’t leave Springfield until 5 PM and I was constantly drinking Dr. Pepper to stay awake. My solo drive in 1994 was much smoother. I stopped in West Memphis, Ark. because there was a Waffle House. To me, Waffle House is a sign that you’re in the South officially. Not a bad piece of solo driving too, I was there by 9 PM.
I promise that Day Two & Three will be more succinct.