Arvid Huisman.

As I grow older, I am becoming a homebody. I like my bed, my bathroom and my refrigerator! However, I can still be coaxed to get out of town occasionally.

So, Julie and I took off for Branson, Missouri, on a recent Wednesday.

I am a 30-year veteran of Branson experiences and introduced Julie to the entertainment mecca a few years after we married.

Thanks to the pandemic, it had been a few years since we had visited Branson. Our lure to Branson on this trip was the Sight and Sound Theater’s performance of Esther, the Old Testament heroine.

Our trip got off to an uneventful start but somewhere south of Kansas City, I decided to get off the four-lane highway and take a more circuitous route through the beautiful Ozark hills and mountains. It had been years since I had taken this “shortcut” and, wouldn’t you know it, I got lost. I had to use the GPS to get to Branson, but that was okay; we were in Branson in time for supper.

Thursday morning, I awoke feeling less than perky. I assumed my congestion was due to seasonal allergies, but as the morning progressed, my nose began running like a leaky faucet. Feeling lousy away from home makes one feel lousier.

We did some shopping and, while doing so, I noticed blood running down my arm onto my hand. I have thin skin (literally) and a small scrape can draw blood.

A fellow my size walking around with blood running down his arm could scare a kid or a faint-hearted adult. I had to clean up the blood and, unaware of any other solution, I purchased some baby wipes.

Then, I went to the car and cleaned up what was by now dried blood. My arm was now as soft as a baby’s backside.

Handkerchief in hand, we took a tour of the Titanic museum in Branson. That is an excellent (and expensive) museum and well worth the price of admission.

All seemed well, but Julie noticed that I had rubbed blood from my arm onto my shirt. After lunch I changed shirts and rested for a couple of hours, mentally grumbling that I didn’t need a midday nap when I went to Branson 30 years ago.

The day was off to a tough start, but after a rest, I was feeling better.

We left for the Esther performance, but made a stop at an outlet mall along the way. While Julie shopped, I began wondering about the best route from the mall to the theater. No problem, I thought; I will turn on the GPS device.

Alas, my two-month-old GPS would not operate despite everything I tried. I walked to a nearby facility that offers free Branson brochures and maps and attempted to memorize a route to the theater.

Just as we left the mall, the heavens broke open and it rained like, as they say on the farm, a cow going potty on a flat rock. The deluge made it impossible to read street signs and my map-memory work went down the drain (so to speak.)

A drive that should have taken less than 10 minutes took nearly 45 minutes. When we reached the theater, the entrance was blocked by traffic. A kind lady let us into the line, but then we sat in stalled traffic for another quarter hour.

Delayed by all the above, people were still streaming into the theater at curtain time, so it was delayed by at least 15 minutes.

The performance was spectacular and when we left the theater at 6:40 p.m., the rain had stopped.

Earlier in the day, we canceled our plans to attend an evening show and it’s a good thing we did. The show we had considered attending started at 7:30 p.m., which would have not allowed time for supper. I need my supper.

After a nice evening meal, we simply called it a day and what a day it had been.

Friday dawned sunny and the trip home was uneventful, thank goodness.

A few thoughts about our recent Branson experience.

First, I wish I were as thin as my patience. Branson traffic is still frustrating, especially in a downpour on an unfamiliar route.

Second, Having fun isn’t nearly as much fun when you’re under the weather. Third, I used to think there were a lot of old people visiting Branson. The crowd seems to be getting younger.

And finally, be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home.