In honor of the state that believes in bigger is better ... let me present my mini-tome on my impressions of Texas; a land where BMW Mini's must drive in packs to feel safe on the road, long-horn cattle still ramble down the Ft. Worth stockyards, strip malls don't die (they become churches) and Jesus bumper stickers and drive-in liquor barns do mix. Since I can't get around to emailing anyone anymore, y'all probably didn't know I was heading to Texas with Frank to dig through his past (aka. The STOREROOM) and to help him decide what belongings return to California and what will return to public consumption on eBay or a local garage sale at his sisters.
To begin the Hertz God smiled her pearly whites on Frank and upgraded him to an SUV. Now, this was both a blessing and a curse. It was a blessing in that we could make u-turns on median dividers, drive uphill the wrong direction and then flip a u-turn to head off of a on-ramp when traffic got backed up on the freeway (sadly, we were one of many to do this and we were not the first, nor the last!). Additionally, we were able to haul all of the boxes to Frank's sister which was good for the move but not my back. It is pretty wild to be in an SUV and to feel small compared to a lot of the vehicles on the road. My little Ford Focus will not be allowed to cross the border, it is for her safety and mine. Texans and the classic spirit of God. Spending a long weekend in the open air or as some like to call them freeways, I was amazed at the congestion, the stacked freeways and assume someone has a pact to not allow earthquakes. In exchange, there is the sprawl, the strip malls, and of course, a church on every corner, vacant lot, condemned building, movie theater prior to the morning matinee and any other place that could celebrate the Lord and all that he has done for big hair.
On our way to the storeroom (on the real Sabbath!) I saw children fundraising. I thought, like myself, they were going to try and earn the funds (i.e. a carwash) but no, it was pretty much kids holding donation buckets wearing t-shirts with a logo that looked very similar to the "Classic Coke" logo except it said, "Classic God." Clever! In San Francisco, we call those people peddlers, homeless, beggars, housing challenged, but in Texas it is simply a job training program!!! We must have replacements and what better way to accomplish this than by early training in asking for donations without doing anything in return!The Heat ... it was hot. Any questions? No, it was not as hot as Phoenix, but it was hot. Hmm. I must be running out of steam because I can't even bring myself to mock the idea that there are literally hundreds of chain restaurants everywhere. It must have been the heat. And, we made the most of them and ate and ate and ate ... to hell with the diet! The heat had affected our brains and we had to conform ... Must eat at WHATABURGER ... must have FRIES ... must have doughnuts ... must do a U-turn on freeway and drive up an on ramp to avoid waiting in traffic ... What is an 8 pound gain in less than five days? Especially, when one is in STEAK heaven!! Sheer joy, that is what it is.
Okay, so we met family. We met friends. We went to the 6th Floor Museum and learned a whole lot of information surrounding the shooting of JFK. Did I mention we ate a lot? I saw cowboys and a sole Indian (Native American?) and a cattle drive. Frank made a new friend, Amber, who sews her own clothes and can do the splits for charity! All of this with big Texas hair and high heels! I've decided that cruel and unusual punishment is drinking ice tea like a Texan and then being forced by nature to use a public restroom ... where someone could not be bothered to use the toilet and would prevent the display of their masterpiece on a paper towel next to the toilet! Did I mention it was hot? We made decisions of things that needed to stay and what needed to go and all of this in the lovely AIR CONDITIONED confines of a storage unit. I have to admit it was kind of fun going through someone else's stuff and realizing, I have not inherited my Grandmother's pack-rat gene. And at the end of the day ... we finished what we had come to do.
