Sunday, January 04, 2009

State Memories Project: Alabama

For a full list of what I'm up to, go here. I'm basically putting up a vivid memory for every state in the union (except the two I haven't yet been to). This week we lead off the alphabetical project with Alabama. I'm enjoying this project so much that I really want my friends and family to join in, either in the comments or in their own blogs. Chip in, y'all.


The game was cancelled--wet fields. So our long drive to Huntsville--me, Swankette, and a friend and his girlfriend--was somewhat in vain. Our travelling companions decided to take the night off, which gave us a nice break from each other (we'd been in an SUV together for 11 days).

And, on the eve of our first anniversary, Swankette and I began a tradition. We went to Taco Bell.

A year earlier, when we began our honeymoon by getting off the plane in Hawaii, we were damn hungry. The only place open was Taco Bell. And, as I devoured a 7-layer burrito, Swankette suggested that we should go to Taco Bell for our anniversary every year.

Therefore, I got to look at my bride and eat another 7-layer burrito instead of attending our usual minor league baseball game.

As a wedding gift, our friend had gotten us a gorgeous hut overlooking a gorgeous view of mesas and the Cumberland Plateau. We saw the sun rise there the next morning. But it didn't matter whether I was there or at a Taco Bell. All that mattered--and matters--is Swankette's presence. So a romantic date at Taco Bell--my first anniversary celebration-- is my Alabama memory.

What's your Alabama memory?

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

TRP has encouraged me,his father, to leave comments on my various state memories especially since I now have been to all 50 following a trip to Hawaii in November. My Alabama memory is fleeting. It was never a destination state for but I did pass through it on a Spring brake trip to Fort Lauderdale Fl. in 1958. The routine was to have the car packed and waiting for the last guy to get out of his last final exam after several sleep deprived nights of cramming and to drive nonstop for 30 hours until we were there. (not as many freeways in those days). We were in a beautiful 58 Chevy convertible that belonged to one of my fraternity brothers. (I went to Northwestern where everyone but me, the scholarship kid, was from a rich family.) We hit dense fog in Alamaba and pulled into a gas station to change drivers. A kid named Jim Klinka took over and in the fog promptly drove us into a ditch. Fortunately it was shallow and that many guys were able to push it out again. The owner of the car relegated Klinka to the back seat and he never drove again. More on Kinka later when we get to Florida.