Moving to Arkansas

"One’s destination is never a place, but rather a new way of looking at things." --Henry Miller. Big Sur and the Oranges of Hieronymus Bosch (1957).

"I'll never know, and neither will you, of the life you don't choose. We'll only know that whatever that sister life was, it was important and beautiful and not ours. It was the ghost ship that didn't carry us. There's nothing to do but salute it from the shore." -- Cheryl Strayed. Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice on Life and Love from Dear Sugar (2012).

We just moved to Arkansas so I could start my new teaching job, loading our belongings into a car and a 26-foot truck, trying against all odds to get rid of junk to make the move easier. While I did get rid of books and other nonessential items, the truck was packed (to the gills as the expression goes). I know, first world problems, right? There was barely room for anything else, and when we arrived in Arkansas there were a few damaged items. I hope now that we are here we can get rid of some of our stuff and settle in.

The trip was fraught with minor tragedies as well. Our cat, Otis, barely made it. We did not want to sedate him, but we had to give him something because he hates car rides, and, surprise, surprise, it did not work. He was frantic the entire way. He rode with me while Carrie drove the truck. He continually went through three stages of agitation: yowling, biting his cage, and anxious sleep. He would yowl and look me squarely in the eyes from his cat carrier and then bite the cage; in fact, he chewed one of his cat toys until it was unrecognizable. Shortly after, he would fall into a fitful sleep. I played talk radio to soothe him, but I had to stop when we got to southern Missouri where all I could find on the dial was conspiracy right-wing radio and sermons from before the dawn of recorded time. He loves hearing human voices, and he was calmest while I talked on the phone to Carrie as we made plans to get gas.

Filling the truck had the makings of another minor tragedy. We had trouble finding the right angle at many gas stations because the gas tank always seemed to be on the wrong side. At one point, Carrie drove the wrong way through a one-way lane to orient the truck to return to the highway. The truck also guzzled gas like a champ, and it is probably still burping the unleaded somewhere as I write. A packed truck with a trailer has the worst gas mileage in the hills of Missouri. I felt like we were preparing and gassing up a battleship each time we sunk a hundred dollars to seemingly go a hundred miles. In the end, we had to drive the truck an extra 200 miles to drop it off at a dealer because our new town does not have one any longer. I question the U-Haul computer system because the Wisconsin dealer could not find proper drop-off locations, and hope it does not develop the Artificial Intelligence to track me down, but come on. This whole process could have been easier.

We are still organizing, but new friends and former members of the football team helped us move stuff into our apartment. We will require a storage unit, but I was able to dispose of two more boxes of books. One was moldy from being in our basement in Baraboo. We did not realize that the box was soaked when the sewer backed up. I forgot I owned these books and should have not even opened the boxes. I also organized my records and can donate a few 45s. Organizing takes too long.

Otis is feeling better and so are we. I have meetings next week and school starts on the 22nd. I am excited and happy that I have more time to settle in than I did in Baraboo. I loved that job and already miss my students and colleagues, but it was trial by fire as I taught five courses and finished the dissertation. I have never lived so far from my family, but I will get by with more phone calls to people. I lived in the Midwest my entire life, and this will be very different. I am getting used to the slower motion of life here, but I doubt I will ever get used to the weeks of 90 degree, humid weather and lack of snow in the winter. Our moving helpers laughed that I brought my skis. I had to, didn't I? I explained I have been skiing since I was four and will need them when I go back to Wisconsin. 

I'm still amazed we are here, but I am also a little bit frightened. Everything seems so new, but it also seems so familiar. I am excited about checking out the trails, disc golf courses, natural landmarks, and points of interest in our area. There are several film festivals in Hot Springs, and I want to check out all the venues in Little Rock. For bigger shows, I will be heading to Dallas. I look forward to meeting students and colleagues.

We begin another adventure. Almost exactly seven years ago, I started graduate school, and now I am doing what I love for a living. It is strange how fast time seems to go. People often worry in the moment and hope time will pass, but when it does we wonder how we got here. There were so many days at my old restaurant job, I wondered what else was out there. Friends and coworkers thought I was a lifer, but I always knew I would move on. Adventures and change make life better because they allow us to see the world in different ways. Change is scary, but it is worth it. Let's see what adventure is next.