Brian and I took to the road yesterday and visited our home away from home: Arkansas. Brian auditioned for the Listen To Your Mother show for NWA and I had an interview with KUAF talking about TMI Mom: Oversharing My Life which will air in May sometime. (Don't worry--I'll keep you posted when it goes live.)
After we had lunch with our good friend Shannon, during which Daughter 1 pulled a tooth (true story), we drove to the radio station. On our way there, we passed by this little intersection.
Fayetteville is a beautiful city. Of course, it's home to the University of Arkansas, which means it has all the expected amenities and beautiful oddities of a college town. Everyone walks everywhere or rides a scooter or bikes their way through town.
Everyone but visitors from Oklahoma that is.
Visitors from Oklahoma, like Brian and I, aren't used to seeing bike paths and pedestrian ways everywhere. So when we visited for the first time, like a year ago when we were going to my cast party for the debut show of Listen To Your Mother in NWA, and we were following the maps app, we found ourselves on the world's most narrow road ever.
We turned left where the app told us to turn left. We turned down a street that was not called Megan, even though the app clearly said the street was called Megan. And, we then we turned left onto a street with no name. Even the app left it blank even though the blue line clearly directed us down that way.
"Holy cow!" I exclaimed to Brian as I peered out my window to the lack of shoulder on the right side of the road, "This street must be old. There's nothing to it!"
"Check your phone again. Are you sure this is where we're supposed to be?" ever the doubting man requested.
I double checked. We were following the blue line ... Just like the biker that took his bike off-road, down the side of the hill waving his fist as us and hollering, "Hiya, Okies!" Or maybe he said, "Damn Okies" I couldn't really tell.
We drove on. As we crossed a low-bridge over a very small creek, both sides of our wheels were off the road. I'll say it again: The minivan was straddling the road. Straddling.
Finally, we reached Dickson Street and discovered that we were, indeed, on a bike path. But, the app told us to go that way and we did. Bonus--we found the cast party.
On this trip to Fayetteville, we discovered they had put up that little red pillar. We call it the "Oklahoma Stopper." We like to think we are directly responsible for this particular bit of safety. Just doing our part for urban development.