Our plans for a four- or five-day getaway have fallen apart, thanks to our trust in meteorologists’ forecasts. We had intended to get in the car this morning and decide which direction to go.
We might have decided to head east and follow the Mississippi Delta Hot Tamale Trail, starting at Ace’s Hot Tamales and Dilworth’s Hot Tamales in Corinth, Mississippi, then backtracking to Tunica, Mississippi where we’d stop at Bud’s. From there, we’d cross back into Arkansas and stop at Pasquale’s Hot Tamales, then cross back into Mississippi and give the tamales Ervin’s Hot Tamales in Sledge a try. We would have found what some might call the tamale jackpot, had we then driven south to Clarksdale, Mississippi, where we could taste the fare offered by Ground Zero Blues Club, Hick’s Famous Hot Tamales and More, Abe’s Bar-B-Q, and The Ranchero. But when we continued south to Greenville, Mississippi, we would have really hit the jackpot, where we could have found eleven of the Tamale Trail stops.
One day, I will write about an actual trip to explore the Mississippi Delta Hot Tamale Trail, but in the interim, I will experience it vicariously through the Southern Foodways Alliance website.
If we hadn’t headed to the Mississippi Delta, we might have headed west to one of our favorite places, New Mexico. Had that trip taken place, we might have visited Santa Fe, Albuquerque, Española, Elephant Butte, or Silver City.
Or, maybe, we would have decided to head to the Texas coast, keeping our eyes peeled for interesting birds in the midst of alluring seaside scenery. Had that been the trip we took, we might have stopped along the way to visit my brothers and my niece and nephew.
The road-trip getaway was a replacement for a New York City visit, which will take place sometime this summer instead of this month.
But, instead of a spur-of-the-moment decision as to where to go for a four- or five-day excursion, we remain here, awaiting the onslaught of wave after wave of thunderstorms. Tomorrow, our meteorological friends are saying, might be cooler and clear, which could bode well for a visit to Little Rock, where I might wash away a little of the pain of missing a road trip by imbibing in a few beers at the Flying Saucer (if my wife were to approve).
As I look out the window, I see the rain has begun. The sky is crying along with me for the trips untaken.