Points South

After a bitterly cold Thanksgiving in Omaha, I was eager to get back to warmer temperatures by heading south. Along the route, I stop by Branson Missouri, Fayetteville Arkansas, and Memphis Tennessee, taking in sights and visiting friends along the way.

As I drove south along I-29, I carefully watched the indicator on my dashboard for outside air temperature. I felt relieved as it climbed degree by degree, slightly faster - to my eyes at least - than the usual daytime warming. Sure enough, that night when I camped just south of Kansas City, the outside temperature stayed - just barely - above freezing, while checking a weather site revealed Omaha was still frozen.

The next day, my destination was Branson Missouri; something of an entertainment hub for the Midwest, like Las Vegas without the gambling. I felt a twinge of angst since I’d always thought Branson was for old fogies, but then I realized that description fits me to a tee. Because it was the off season ( way off ) I was able to reserve a camping spot down by the river just minutes from the central strip:

It may look bleak, but I thought it was picturesque, and super convenient. Let me set the stage by borrowing a map from Google:

The green line through the center of town labeled “76” is the road along which the great majority of shows are found. Even in the off season, that road became backed up from time to time. However the yellow line that runs south of town has very little along it, so it’s an express route east and west to get close to your destination. To a large extent, the same can be said of the red route north of town.

My first night in town, I didn’t try to attend any shows, I just drove across and back along the green route to get the lay of the land. I did stop at a small Mexican restaurant for dinner that was unexceptional. Because it was off season, the pickings for concerts were rather slim. The only two recognizable names in town were Mel Tillis and Sandy Patty, and I had no burning desire to see either of them. Instead, I opted for an Eagles tribute concert. That sounds kind of hip, but needless to say, the audience was 100% grayhairs. Still, the band did a fantastic job of bringing the Eagles tunes back to life. I was never a huge fan of the Eagles, but they had so many hits, I recognized and enjoyed every song. When the tribute band members were introduced, several had been members of very well-known bands in their own right, and there was some really first rate singing and guitar-playing, capturing the original Eagles sound.

Trying to find a show to attend the next day, there wasn’t anything that jumped out at me. I decided to go to a matinee of Pierce Arrow; a variety show whose billboards litter the highway into town. I have to say, I was quite well entertained. The feature act is a male quartet that does a mix of country and gospel. The lead singer has a voice that I believe is the best male voice I’ve ever heard in live performance. Another member of the quartet has held the record for the lowest note ever sung by a human voice, and sure enough, many of his notes you feel as much as hear. Here’s a fun technical note for my engineer friends: The other three members of the quartet used wireless microphones, but this bass had to use one with a cable because the RF link wouldn’t carry some of his notes. There were also a couple of women singers that performed solo and were very good. My favorite part of the show was the comedian-magician. He’d invite members of the audience on stage to participate, and then, in a kind-hearted way, make fools of them. He had us in stitches every time he took the stage.

It was time to move on. David, a friend of mine from college, lives in Fayetteville Arkansas and I had told him I’d be showing up Friday evening. When possible, I try to arrange visits on weekends with friends who still work. Paul and Ruth, my friends in Dallas, had highly recommended the Crystal Bridges museum in Bentonville, which happened to be along my way. It is funded by one of the heirs to the Walmart fortune, and admission is free. The museum is set in the middle of its own park. I got there in the early afternoon and had plenty of time to see it. The museum puts on different shows throughout the year, and when I attended it was the best of American art from colonial times to the present. I like art, though I’m not a guy that goes to museums on a regular basis, but the quality of the art in this exhibit was engrossing throughout.

I’m a big fan of architecture, and I thought the design of the museum and its grounds was gorgeous:

On the way in, I asked about their policy on photography and was told it was fine as long as you refrain from flash. The photos below are just a very small sample of what was on display, pieces that had special appeal for me. Early in my tour I came to an entire gallery devoted to the works of John James Audubon, the renown naturalist. I’d seen his sketchbooks on display in other museums, but seeing examples of his oil on canvas works gave me a whole new appreciation for the vibrancy of his art:

This is a large painting, at least 30 inches across. With one exception, I’m afraid I can’t give attribution for the rest of these works:

The last one above, of course, is the famous “Rosie the Riveter” by Normal Rockwell. I have to say that the original is much more striking than any reproduction I’ve seen. Also, I had no idea it is such a large painting; the canvas is probably eight feet from top to bottom.

Further along the show, you run into works in less conventional media. I’m intrigued by “soft art”:

The other end of the piece above:

The piece above is a form of traditional Japanese art made from cut paper. 

On my way out of the museum, I took note of a tree out front:

No, not a tree… a life-size sculpture of a very large tree done in shiny reflective metal.

It was an hour of so down the road to David’s place on the eastern outskirts of Fayetteville. At first, his wife, Ann, whom I hadn’t met before, was going to let David and me go off to dinner on our own, but I encouraged her to come along, and I’m glad she did.  Here’s a picture of the three of us:

As with my friends in the previous post, I hadn’t seen David in nearly forty years. We had reconnected through LinkedIn. I learned David runs several small but successful electronics design and prototyping companies ( separated for historical, tax, and liability reasons). When we got back to their house after dinner, he gave me a tour of his electronics lab in the attic. Not just a hobby, but where he and two or three other engineers work day after day. His firms have done projects that impact the lives of many of us. Case in point: they designed the electronics for the electric wheelchair-shopping carts used in Walmarts. Ann is a sixth-grade teacher; I don’t know which is the harder job. This isn’t a title I cede easily, but I’ve known David is a better electrical engineer than I am since we were in college when he was able to diagnose and repair a kit stereo amplifier that had confounded me.

I’d be doing David and Ann a disservice if I didn’t mention that they’re very committed to their Christian faith and it shows in every aspect of their lives. David is active with a Christian fellowship on the local college campus, and when he and I went out to breakfast the next morning, he shared with me his very moving personal witness. In this respect, he’s very different from the David I knew in college.

From Fayetteville, I drove to Little Rock the next evening. Of all the RV parks I’ve stayed in, this one was the sketchiest. It was literally on the wrong side of the tracks, in a seedy neighborhood, and I got the last spot in the park which was just a wide place on the driveway next to the office. I made sure all the doors on the RV were locked that night. ( Do you live in a house where you can press one button and know all the doors are locked? ) It all worked out fine, but I was glad to be on my way the next morning.

My next stop was Memphis, or to be more precise, Germantown, a suburb on the east side of Memphis. The RV spot I’d chosen there was a little unconventional: It was on the grounds of a big agricultural research station surrounded by the city. There are horse barns, livestock pens, and fields of crops. I think the RV park is there primarily for folks who come to participate in events, but it was just a few miles from my friends in town. I got to Anna and David’s place (yes, I seem to know a lot of Davids) early Sunday afternoon, and they suggested we go to lunch in nearby Collierville. It has a quaint and well-restored downtown district. We went to a place called The Silver Caboose, which is one of their favorites. It serves delicious Southern-style home cooking, which really hit the spot with me.

To be candid, this is a friendship that had formed between my wife and Anna, then David and I had gotten drawn in. We’d all gotten along well, and enjoyed our times together, but now, with my wife gone, I wasn’t sure the chemistry would still be there. But once again I was surprised and touched by how readily old friendships rekindled, and we were able to pick right up again. After lunch we went back to their place and I gave them the show of photos from my trip. Then, because they had been very attached to my wife, I shared an album of family photos from our marriage up through raising our daughters. We all enjoyed laughing and reminiscing together. Having too much fun to break up early, we went to dinner together at an authentic Memphis barbecue place.

I was lucky to have caught them on this day, because the next day, David had to commute to Chicago for work and stay there most the rest of the week. He’s a commercial cargo airline pilot, transitioning into being an instructor for commercial pilots. He’s well qualified, since for a time, he was interim commander of the Navy “Top Gun” base at Miramar in San Diego. He took us for a drive past the airplane simulator facility where he hopes to be working - right there in town, not Chicago. To my surprise, these full motion professional grade simulators are housed inside the shell of a normal-looking building in an office park. We also cruised the neighborhood checking out Christmas light displays, some of which were quite spectacular. With David out of town and Anna getting ready for a trip to New York with their daughter, Julie, I was on my own for the rest of the week.

In my next post, I’ll describe my visit to historic Beale Street in Memphis, and I’ll resolve the cliffhanger from my previous post about the damage done by allowing my RV plumbing to freeze.