Once again, I come to you with a tale of inefficient commerce, incompetent cartage, a wandering parcel. As before, it involves one of those inexplicable collaborations between a private carrier and the pseudo-public post — “UPS Mail Innovations” and, in this case, “FedEx SmartPost.”
The story begins on Thursday, March 28th, when I ordered four pairs of underwear from Cabela’s. By the next morning, a shipping label had been created in Strafford, Missouri, roughly 110 driving miles northwest of The Mountain.
FedEx promptly took the package west to Kansas. There it sat for almost two weeks.
On April 11th, FedEx decided to haul my u-trou to Mississippi for a couple of days, rolling through (or flying over) Arkansas twice but not stopping at The Mountain.
Then, for whatever reason, it went back to Kansas. And again, it sat.
Six days later, the package was scanned at a FedEx depot in Little Rock before USPS in Fayetteville finally got its hands on it. From there it took less than two days to make it to Yellville, where it was delivered to a parcel locker at our post office this morning.
There’s no excuse for dragging my underwear 2,000 miles to move it a hundred-ten. If you’re looking for yet another reason why prices are high and American business can’t seem to find its own ass with both hands… this.
The fella who owns the local racetrack is a customer at the bank where Deb works. More than once, we’ve run into him at Crooked Creek Pub, sharing beer and conversation and discovering that we’re on the same page politically.
When we’ve crossed paths recently, he’s reminded us about “play day,” kind of a pre-season open house for drivers and fans. Weather and other factors forced it to be pushed back a few times, but at last everything came together, and today would be the day.
This morning Deb and I ran some errands and hung out at The Fred for a bit. We arrived at the track around noon. The atmosphere was more like a party than a typical race day, for obvious reasons.
This was the first time that most folks, including us, had seen the many improvements made to the facility over the winter months. The track itself is wider where it needed to be, the banking was re-engineered, and the racing surface was refreshed with new clay. The permanent grandstand was renovated and expanded, this afternoon sporting shiny coats of red, white and blue paint.
The concession stand wasn’t yet open, but a couple of food trucks had been brought in for today’s event. That’s where Deb and I had our day’s main meal.
She went to the taco truck. I walked across the road to “Heart of the Ozarks BBQ & Sweets” for an “Oinker Burger” — a one-third-pound beef patty topped with pulled pork and mac’n’cheese. For dessert I chose “Piggy Puddin’ Crack,” which was layers of homemade brownie, peanut butter, chocolate chunks, chocolate pudding and banana pudding, laced with crumbled Nilla Wafers.
Basically, I’m talkin’ ’bout a coma in a cup.
We didn’t stay all afternoon, but we thoroughly enjoyed the outing. The racing season kicks off this Friday night, and I expect we’ll be there for the opener.
This is all such simple stuff. Small town, tight families. Dirt oval, Friday-night heroes. Killer BBQ served from the back of a converted U-Haul box truck. American traditions and unshakeable values everywhere we look.
Each and every day reminds us that this is where we belong.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB