Last week, my brother, John, pointed me toward Michael Hodson’s blog. After spending time in the world of Arkansas law and politics, Michael decided to take a one-year trek around the globe, but with one caveat: he would make this journey without getting on any planes and without making prior reservations. Through the wonders of Facebook and obscure familial connections, I was able to meet up with Hodson who is preparing to climb Kilimanjaro while passing through Tanzania on the East African leg of his journey. I was fascinated by his ambitious itinerary and, after two weeks in Tanzania, was irrationally excited about meeting a fellow Arkansan on foreign soil. I have been suffering from a kind of southern accent deprivation.
I hadn’t realized how much I missed home until we were sitting at dinner talking politics and he began trying to explain former President Clinton’s brand of political charisma to my North Carolinian housemate. As a kid in high school, Michael had met the Governor in a receiving line at an event and they spoke for a few minutes. When running for the Presidency several years later, the two met for a second time when Hodson was asked by his boss to pick the Governor up at the airport in the wee hours of the morning. The future President, bright eyed and smiling at 1:00 a.m. bounced off the plane and, upon seeing him for only the second time in many years, walked right up to Michael, calling him by his first name, and asked how his father was doing and if he still worked at “_____”. I’ve heard a hundred of these stories if I’ve heard one and exactly how he does it is a mystery to me.
It was great to catch up with an Arkie, if one in name only. I fear we may have lost him. Hodson appears to have gone metric and has started using words like “Celsius”. If you happen to be in Sudan or Nova Scotia—wherever he’s going next—try to feed the man some biscuits & sausage gravy before he forgets how to spell ‘sooie’.
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