AK GO!

Today is about choices.

There’s a sign in our hotel room telling us that the water is brown because the Great Mississippi River runs underground straight through town, but the water is perfectly safe to drink and bathe in.

Choice #1: stay dirty…or get muddy.

It’s only March, not even officially spring yet, but it’s already hot here. The sun is going down as we roll into Greenville, MS and the sky has exploded into a wondrous spray of feathery wisps of clouds and sun spotted rainbows. Mississippi is all hustle and no bustle; from the lure of instant riches up in Tunica’s casinos, to the promise of a certain future offered via billboard by Sister Marie’s psychic advisement. Greenville is heralded as the heart of the Delta and the region’s biggest city. It’s had a history of being a “progressive” town with an overabundance of writers. Today it seems to have an overabundance of strip malls. But there are certain treasures too. Scattered about town, you will find the meditative tranquility of a weeping willow tree shading the banks of a placid stream at the historic Winterville Mounds; edgy excitement in the barren grittiness of Nelson Street (where sightseeing prompted city workers to ask us, “Y’all lost?”); world-famous tamales at Doe’s Eat Place, infamous juking at the nearby Flowing Fountain and man’s great triumph over nature, the Great Wall Of Mississippi.

The next morning, the intersection of Highways 82 and 1 is buzzing with the accessibility of instantly gratified needs, from the steady flow at the mini-mart on the northwest corner to the fast-food commodified tentacles stretching to the South and East. By stark contrast, the shell of an abandoned gas station sits decaying under the beat of Mississippi sun across the street. This is the forgotten corner; the one everyone hurries by en route to somewhere else. Across the street they offer “Quick Cash” and “Pay Day Loans.” Over here, you got nothing coming.

We see them as we pass that corner for the first time: four men wearing green and white striped pants and white button-down short sleeved shirts with the MDOC Convict stenciled neatly across the back in black ink.

“Look! Convicts!” I exclaim.

*****

It’s Good Friday and I’m on my way from New York City to Connecticut for Easter weekend. I ask my driver to make a stop at Mailboxes, Etc. before we hit the road. I hold my breath as I turn the key in the lock and pull open the small metal door. BINGO!