The Largest Cross

I left Amarillo early driving straight into a glorious sunrise...pink clouds streaking across the horizon. Juxtaposed against God's creation was "the largest cross in the northern (or was it western?) hemisphere," which the sign promised would be a spiritual experience. Sorry, but God's sunrise trumped the cross.

After a few hours on the road, the Texas-shaped waffle I had for breakfast had worn off and I left the Interstate in search of "road food"; that is, food that is not mass-produced by McDonalds, Wendy's, KFC, or any other chain. No such luck. Elk City has been taken over by WalMart and the chains; I could find no local diner. The same was true in town after town I drove through today.

I was more fortunate at dinnertime. In downtown Little Rock, down the street from the Clinton Library, I found "The Flying Fish," an unpretentious restaurant with checkered vinyl tablecloths and garage doors opening the restaurant to the street. I stood in line salivating over the thought of fried catfish, while my conscience told me to order the healthier broiled fish or boiled shrimp. I finally compromised with the fried catfish salad. Wonderful!

Sue