This morning, as I went to check today’s forecast (still too hot–indeed the forecast said “unseasonably hot)) there was an ad at the top of the page that said, “Arkansas, the Natural State. Explore. Roll over to experience.” Roll over? Like roll over and play dead? Because Arkansas is surely one of the levels of hell and I do hope not to visit it again until I am dead. And even then, may my soul be saved do I don’t have to go.

Which isn’t to say I didn’t have a great weekend. The ladies visiting were awesome, amazing incredible company. The show was great. The weekend was fun, if exhausting, but I have no love for Arkansas. What I saw of the edge of the Ozarks seemed pretty, but really had nothing on the Appalachian mountains. And most of what we drove through was really incredibly depressing farm country. Despite the rivers, streams and tress it was ugly in a way I can’t really pin down. And depressing. DEPRESSING. Economically depressed, visibly so

and just not pretty like one would expect with the aforementioned trees and streams and all.

Arkansas, I have no use for you. I will stay on the TN side of the Mississippi where it is BEAUTIFUL. I don’t understand how the trees and landscape can be just enough different, directly across the river, but they are. Tennessee fills me with joy and wonder at the beauty of it. Arkansas with dread and misery. And as far as fucked up town names go? I’ll take Bucksnort, Tennessee over Bald Knob, Arkansas any day.

I need a Tennessee icon.