When I was younger we used to take Saturday road trips. We’d end up about two to three hours from home. We’d always stop in a small town, of course there really isn’t any other kind of town in Oklahoma. It was always an adventure. Daddy hated the interstate, so we’d head down a state highway. We’d head North or South on HW 9 and then Daddy would decide to turn off and catch another of the numerous highways the criss cross this state.
Those highways always turn into Main Street of those little towns. And that’s the best part. All the little shops, the murals on the walls, an occasional museum, just waiting for you all shined up in their Sunday best, just begging you to stop. Oh the delicious food we ate. The beautiful trinkets that we came home with from those antique shops. And the people we met, there isn’t anyone friendlier than the folks in Oklahoma. I just loved to chatting with the shopkeepers.
They knew the best places to go and knew all the local legends. So many towns and outposts in Oklahoma had run ins with some of the most famous outlaws of the west. And of course, some of those outlaws were born and raise here. The shopkeepers would tell you just where to go for this or that landmark. Oh how I miss those Saturdays.
Of course both my parents are gone now, and I’m an adult, so no more Saturday family road trips. Still I can’t help but feel nostalgic for one though. I have this desire to hop in the car and just head out, see where to road takes me. Roll down the windows, let my hair down and feel the wind. I wanna find my self in some town I’ve never been to. I wanna browse the shops, get a coke float at an old fashioned drug store soda fountain, fill the trunk of my car with trinkets and forgotten treasures. Maybe even find a little clothing boutique that has a cute dress or scarf that I just can’t live without.
I can see it now, a two lane road, all the cars parked right out in front of the shops. They’ll have the big open windows and the walkways will be covered and supported by wooden posts. The buildings will be mostly wood, built over a hundred years ago and still standing. Who knows, I might even find a town where the historic district still has a boardwalk.