Homesick

Alabama, Arkansas I do love my ma and pa

Not the way that I do love you

A couple weeks ago I mentioned that I was from Arkansas and some kid goes "I'm sorry." I'm sorry? Rude. If you asked me five years ago if I would ever miss Fayetteville, I would have laughed in your face. After high school I took off and never looked back. 

Big mistake.

Most of the time I'm trying to find to throw Fayetteville into random conversation (Did you know it's been voted the best place to retire? Fayetteville is the indoor track capitol of the world!) or I'm comparing everything to something from Fayetteville (Chipotle's good...but it's no Flying Burrito, Downtown Provo has a lot to learn from Dickson Street, etc.)

How many places do you know have a Confederate Cemetery? Really, though.

Or get their main street shut down for a bikers gathering?

Well, lots of places have Farmer's Markets, but they probably aren't as awesome as this one.

Calling the hogs? Best in the world. I remember watching the Sugar Bowl last year with an Ohio State fan and he was completely blown away that I knew the entire Arkansas fight song, word for word. Like, duh. How could you grow up in Fayetteville and not know it?

Full disclosure, the "A-A-A-R-K-A-N-SAS for Arkansas" part always tripped me up, but I made it through.

Oh Fayetteville, it's been way too long. I'll be back soon, I promise.