Day 1: NYC-AR-Kum & Go

Getting to a major highway from Northwest Arkansas Regional Airport requires a rambling 20-minute drive through the backcountry, passing about twelve churches, a handful of general stores, and a mine. Upon turning onto Healing Springs Road from the airport access road, I was greeted by this sign in front of a church:

In other words… Welcome to Arkansas,

you’re going to hell. Not that I have anything against churches; just ones that tell me I’m going to hell. To me, God is about promises, not threats. I wanted to stop for food before I got to mom’s house but I didn’t want to eat at a chain cuz I’m all about local flavor. Luckily, I stumbled upon the Catfish Hole, an inauspicious, antiseptic (from the outside) establishment with a big sign on the front door stating their policy that they only accept LOCAL checks with a LOCAL address ONLY. Unless your name is Carrie or Bob Cencitt, whose checks (according to the handwritten sign on the front of the cash register) are

NOT to be accepted under ANY circumstances. Just so we’re all clear what crooks Carrie & Bob are. I asked the young gentleman at the register what comes on their salad, and as he started to stammer something about lettuce and um, lettuce, an older gentleman in a rocking chair informed me that the salad was quite “nice”, but you have to like a little kick in your grilled chicken. Sold. I plugged my iPhone into the back of the Toy Claw machine (The Claw! The Claw!!) and sat down to wait.

The salad turned out to be quite good, and had actual lettuce in it, not just iceberg – which was a nice surprise. It was served with Hush Puppies – I LOVE Hush Puppies – and something pickled, which I could not identify and therefore did not eat. Not very adventurous, perhaps, but it's only day one... overall, a food Success!

Picking up mom turned out to be quite a challenge. She wasn’t entirely prepared with everything packed, and when I arrived the movers were packing the boxes and furniture, but there was random stuff EVERYWHERE that was not packed. You’ve seen that show Hoarders, right? Now imagine a hoarder having to move. I know, right?? I started packing the car, but every time I returned to the house, the bags of stuff had multiplied. It was like that scene in The Sorcerer’s Apprentice, with the broomsticks multiplying… and all the while the water was pouring… in the form of sweat, down my face. Finally we were stacked to the roof and ready to take off: Me, Mom, Sparky, and Max.

The first exciting sight was roadkill: a dead armadillo on the side of the road, belly-up. This was my first armadillo, and I have to say, I’m not sure it would be much better alive. After a few hours we needed a pit stop, and since I’m really a 12-year-old boy at heart, I just HAD to stop at the Kum & Go. And buy a hat… and a lighter… and be a dick and take pictures of the sign. I mean, KUM on.