This is not about technology – this is strictly personal.
Sometimes a road trip can have both unintended and intended consequences. That happened to me recently when I flew back to the area where I grew up. It’s almost difficult to describe that area. I was raised in Mound City, IL but the area is not really “state” sensitive; it’s more of a region of crossroads, towns and small cities along the Ohio and Mississippi rivers.
When I was growing up, it was nothing to drive 30 miles to see a movie or go to a “fancy” restaurant, or visit an amusement park. Although I grew up in Southern Illinois, I played for a Paducah, Kentucky American Legion baseball team. The area was (and still is) known as the “heartland.” It’s home to great bar-b-que, barge terminals for the loading of grain, Southern Illinois University, a lot of farms, apple and peach orchards, corn for Ethanol, a riverboat casino and a hundred other things.
I try to go home at least once a year. It’s not enough, but life gets complicated. This time, my daughter decided to take time away from her family and join me. She hadn’t seen my parents in four or five years. We flew into Memphis from our respective homes, rented a car and headed north --- and we talked and told stories. My GPS said we were three hours from our destination.
As lunchtime approached, we started seeing signs for Lambert’s, the home of “throwed rolls.”
Before you click away, this restaurant, near Sikeston, Missouri features, “throwed rolls.” This place has been part of the folklore I’ve heard for a long, long time. The story goes that every so often, a guy comes out of the kitchen with freshly baked rolls and shouts, “Who needs a roll?” The hands go up – and the rolls get thrown – from five feet to 40 feet away. And most people catch them.
We had to see this for ourselves, so we stopped. It was amazing. People wanted to catch rolls whether they really wanted/need another roll. The rolls themselves were pretty good, thrown or not. The menu included items like chicken fried steak, chicken and dumplings and a lot of foods that might not be on your cardiologist’s list of “healthy” foods. It was tasty, although a little too much salt. And no ---- there was no room for dessert. Luckily, we ordered before people from three tour buses filled the place. The stop was a good call and a great experience.
The intended consequence of the visit was for my daughter to visit with my parents. Those of you with more life experience know that people often care more about their grandchildren than their children. This was a good time for my daughter to really catch up with my Mom and Dad. People change with time. Trite, but true. My little girl is now a Mom herself with two little boys; my parents are much older since the last time she saw them. Both see each other with new eyes.
The unintended consequence of the visit is that I get to spend more time with my daughter talking about anything and everything. We visit downtown Cape Girardeau, Missouri which is much different than it was in my childhood. There is a relatively new bridge across the Mississippi joining Illinois and Missouri.
We stop for a few minutes along the riverfront to watch a tug push barges upriver. It is a slow, steady process – a lot like life.
Between visits with my parents, my daughter and I spend time at a nearby Starbucks, watch people and talk about EVERYTHING. Not the conversations you have over the phone. Not the conversations at Thanksgiving or Christmas with family lurking everywhere. It was just us. We talk on the ride back to Memphis to catch our flights. We watch football together at the airport while we wait to board, and then leave to return to our separate, but always connected lives.
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