I think the Google maps knew that deep in his heart Nate really wanted to take back roads on back roads on back roads.
Or, that now that I’m graduated, it was going to show me the “real way” to get to Mizzou. All I know, is that we took backroads that I have never even heard of.
It was a beautiful drive.
I’m trying really hard on this trip to actually follow through when I say that I will visit people; stop by and say hi – and hope that Nate holds me to that.
The strange thing of all strange things, was when I pulled into Columbia, and not only did I not remember exactly how to get where I needed to be, but it felt more like home than Indiana, Illinois, in California have ever felt.
It’s akin to Oregon. I get a similar feeling of coming home when I pull across the Oregon borders, or better yet, when I come off of the twists and curves of Route 22 into Tillamook. I have to say, I didn’t miss you. When it’s 100° with 100% humidity, the world can go to hell, because it feels like hell. I was trying to explain to meet that here in Missouri, your landlocked. He gets a little bit more claustrophobic by such things than I do but if I feel it, I know over time he would too. We’re not ready to move back to Missouri yet. (Maybe in a few years…)
There are buildings where I’ve never even imagined could be buildings, new developments that just came out of nowhere – too many luxury apartments than is necessary. Shakespeare’s is torn down and temporarily relocated to the lot right next to where it was, which is insane.
I stopped by the diner on my way to the hotel that we’re staying at the Broadway Diner, where Diner Dave made so many grilled cheese that I keep track of the number that I had the course of my years at Mizzou. He wasn’t there but I wouldn’t mind taking the time to stop and see if he is today. It was 2 am when I stopped – hopefully that means he finally gets some sleep.
I showed him everywhere that I lived. It was nostalgia at its best. Today I’ll show him the columns and where I worked, and apologize to my former boss, mentor and coach all in one lovely lady named Kathy Murray. I tried sending her an invitation to the wedding, but it was returned three times, twice because I forgot postage, and the other time because I messed up the ZIP Code.