The day of reckoning. Hard to believe I had my rental car packed and ready to go by 10 AM, I had a past reputation for being late and unprepared. I also remember the look on my grandparents’ face of “he really is leaving, we thought he was bluffing!” Grandma called my mother, maybe thinking I would reconsider. Mom said I was welcome in Raleigh if Austin fell through. I replied that I’d rather live in a dumpster than be in North Carolina; yeah, I had a big plate of crow three years later on my statement.
First was the “quick” detour in Springfield to see the house my family lived in from 1979-82. I had resided in Bloomington-Normal for over two years and never made any effort to travel there until this day. It would’ve been a faster diversion if I retained my knowledge of the town’s geography. I also killed some time at White Oaks Mall to have a little more nostalgic memories of the place which used to be the center of my adolescent universe.
St. Louis was a bit worse. I hit the place during rush hour and took the wrong exit to find the Arch. Imagine how much smoother my driving would’ve gone if I had my iPhone then. I managed to find a place to park, took in the museum underneath because my fear of heights was too great to go inside. As dusk approached, I celebrated crossing the Mississippi River with some Jack in the Box for dinner, this chain isn’t on the eastern side.
Memphis appeared sooner than I anticipated. I found a nice motel in West Memphis with a nearby Waffle House (dinner) to spend the evening. I could’ve pressed on to Little Rock but I wanted to take in Graceland and I was using this relocation opportunity to take a vacation.
I’m glad the rental car had a tape deck too. My WMAG series of mix tapes (1-14, 1991-93) kept me entertained between the “major” cities along the route. So-called Alternative stations did appear on the radio in St. Louis, Memphis and Dallas to create the soundtrack for the trip. Ever since the “final” weekend in Chicago, I constantly heard Beck’s “Loser,” James’ “Laid,” and Sheryl Crow’s “Leaving Las Vegas.” Or those are the ones I was pretty sick of by the day I arrived in Austin.