Two Years in Texarkana

 

Last night I went out with a few folks to the Banana Club, a 1923 basement Speakeasy, where access is still needed with code (found on Facebook). We saw a little comedy ditty, called "Christmas in Texarkana," which was obviously written and performed by locals. That's fine, locals around here seem to have quite a bit of thespian talent. 

The premise of the play was to poke fun at Texarkanas'--both cities--and the strange norms and culture. Those I was with thought the play was amusing. As for me, I was vindicated! I am not crazy. Growing up in a large city and knowing no other life, I've suffered from culture shock for the past two years. 

For example: 

Don't worry about your party finding you at the airport. There is one terminal and three flights each day. Flying to Texarkana Texas? Well, actually you are landing in Arkansas. And the plane you are flying on is so small all carryon baggage is checked because there is no room inside the cabin. 

Going to Walmart is more of a scavenger hunt than a shopping experience. There are two major Walmarts: one on the Texas side, one on the Arkansas side. They are not laid out the same way. It's best to memorize both layouts. Which reminds me, I was at the Texas Walmart once and someone brought in--I'm not making this up--their emotional support snake. 

If you need a tow truck, it will take longer to call one and wait for them to arrive, than to have a perfect stranger stop and help you. 

There is one Discount Tire in town. You know, the big chain tire retailer headquartered in Scottsdale? That one. Buckaroo works there. EVERYONE calls every tire shop in town "Discount Tire." I've been asked, "Which Discount Tire does Buckaroo work at?" many times. 

"In town" is a misnomer. Texarkana is two cities in two states. Also, "in town," could include the surrounding communities of Fouke, Genoa, Doddridge and Ashdown Arkansas as well as Redlick, Maude, Hooks, Leary, Nash, Wake Village and Redwater, Texas. I've probably missed a community or two. As the crow flies, it is about 25 miles from the farthest Texas "in town" locale to the farthest Arkansas "in town" locale. 

Need directions? Don't--I beg of you!--rely on GPS. This past week I went to someone's home. GPS had me heading one direction, the homeowner warned me in advance to follow her advice (turn after the Dollar General, go a half mile, you will see a pond on the left, pass that pond and then you will see another pond on the left... turn right after the second pond). 

Folklore says that when Texarkana was established 150 years ago, criminals would cross Stateline Road to escape the cops, because the police did not have jurisdiction in the other state. That has changed. However, I'm still fascinated to drive on a road that is half in one state and half in another. 

On the Arkansas side of Stateline Road one can stop into the liquor stores on most days of the week. Bowie County, Texas doesn't sell anything stronger than wine.   

It is common to run over a possum. It is even more common to run over a dead possum. And speaking of which, I have them hanging out in my back yard.

Also speaking of critters, they don't understand boundaries here. 

God is here. Whether it is at a Bowie County meeting, work function, a lunch in a restaurant, or the Banana Club before a silly little comedy play, expect at the very least a conversation about the Almighty, but more likely a prayer. If that isn't your thing, that's okay. It is very much a you-do-you, as long as we-can-do-we, kind of place. 

If you need a plumber, electrician, painter, carpenter or any trade in November and December you are better off looking on Youtube and learning to fix it yourself. It is hunting season, the trades are at Deer Camp.

Shopping carts are "buggies." Carbonated soft drinks are "coke." There are two kinds of brewed tea: ones that will put you into a diabetic coma or ones that are made with motor oil and the straw can stand up on its own. 

It is customary to give gifts of hand towels and mini-pillows here. I don't understand it either. 

Vegetables are easy to grow here. Which begs the question, why fry all of them? And by the way, macaroni and cheese is considered a vegetable here. As a connoisseur of macaroni and cheese, I can get behind that--as long as nobody fries it. 

People--I've met several--subconsciously start every sentence with y'all. "Y'all, hand me that buggy. I'm fixing to go into the Walmart." That kind of thing. Every sentence. At first I noticed it. Now I'm concerned I'm doing it too. 

Crime is "high." I've explained to the folks here, what they call "high crime" I call Tuesday afternoon at 2 p.m. in Phoenix. Recently a car was stolen from the parking lot of the hospital. It was reported on all the Facebook (ahem, "news") outlets. It was also reported when the criminal was caught and jailed six hours later. The thief's picture was plastered all over the place and everyone from Sunday school teachers to the mother's next door neighbors were posting about this guy. Public shaming here is real. There was a shooting in October which made the national news. The truth was, the shooting happened at a private party and the guy is in jail. And my favorite crime story: last year a few thugs came up from Shreveport to make a dash and grab at a local store. However, there were three women (who did not know each other) who were all carrying and made a citizens' arrest.   

After two years, I'm told I'm still not a Texan and certainly not a Southerner. However, nobody is willing to tell me how long it takes to be an official Texan. Maybe it happens when I automatically start my sentences with y'all.