Goin’ to Missouri

Woke up between 2:30 and 3 Tuesday morning. Maybe it was the dark chococate I ate shortly after lunch. Maybe it was anticipatory stress as my subconscious ran through the list of the day. Maybe it was anticipatory excitement regarding my trip to Kansas City for that Educational Conference I mentioned on Sunday.

Truth be told, I'm more than a little anxious about the drive to Kansas City. The last time I went to Kansas City was with Mary Ellen. What year was that? Early 90s? I guess.

We went for the KS City Jazz and Blues Fest, primarily to see one of Mary's favorite performers, Michael Franks. I bought the trip during a public radio auction as a gift for Mary. Either for her birthday or Christmas, though the concert wasn't even close to either one.

Mary Ellen got bad sick the day before her trip. I was willing to cancel the thing, but she insisted. She slept most of the way to Kansas City, which was probably a 6-7 hour drive. She still felt bad when we got there. The next morning, she seemed to be running an impossibly high temperature, so I rushed her to the nearest doc-in-a-box.

There went our vacation money, such as it was. We learned Mary had strep throat, got some antibiotics, and got her back to bed. That was on a Friday. Michael Franks performed on Saturday afternoon, and Mary was well enough to go hear him.

I spent most of this "vacation" sitting by the bed, reading The Alienist. In fact, I finished that novel over that four-day weekend. I also watched several episodes of Star Trek: The Next Generation — with the sound off and the subtitle feature on.

But none of this is the reason I feel anxious about driving to Kansas City. Actually, I suspect I'll get to the city limits with little problem. It's a straight shot after all, pretty much.

No, I'm more anxious about driving in Kansas City. Aside from how Mary's illness affected our vacation, the main thing I remember about driving in Kansas City is getting lost.

Seemed like it didn't matter which way I turned, it was the wrong way. Almost every trip I made — to the doc in the box, to the Civil War Museum, to the Hallmark Factory — was marked by having to double back. If I turned right, I should have turned left. If I turned left, I should have turned right.

I even played a little game with myself. I asked myself which way Ithought I should turn, then turned the opposite direction. And, as it would turn out, I should have gone with my gut instinct. So, the next time I would turn as my gut instinct sensed; and it would develop that I should have turned the opposite direction. Don't remember howoften this happened. In my memory, it was a lot.

We even ended up on the east side of Kansas City, Kansas. Which is not a fun place to visit, believe me.

By the time we got home, the situation began to feel like a metaphor for my life. It was quite depressing.

So, you can understand why I might feel anxious about this trip.

But this trip is for me. It's to feed me.

And this time, I'm buying a map.