Down the Hall on Your Left

This site is a blog about what has been coasting through my consciousness lately. The things I post will be reflections that I see of the world around me. You may not agree with me or like what I say. In either case – you’ll get over it and I can live with it if it makes you unhappy. Please feel free to leave comments if you wish . All postings are: copyright 2014 – 2017

Archive for the category “Texas”

Picture If You Will. ..

TO PARAPHRASE DOUGLAS MACARTHUR (Under 40? Look him up.), “I have returned from Texas.”

A visit with the Family is now checked off our summer “to-do” list and, like most trip to Texas it exceeded our quota of Airline Weirdness.

It seems that every time we fly to Texas the airline (it doesn’t matter which one – Southwest this time) manages to slip over into The Twilight Zone. This time they outdid themselves.

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A Basket Of Brisket

WELL, HERE WE GO – OFF TO TEXAS! Surprisingly our flights were uneventful – which is what you want. Eventful airplane flights make the news and that is never a good thing. Things even went smoothly in our dealings with the TSA aerobic organisms. I think they were having an “On-The Job Slumber Party. They were just waving people through without even looking at them. I bet I could have walked through there toting a Howitzer and Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass. It always makes me feel so safe.

Once we got to our ultimate destination (Corpus Christi) we did what any sensible person would do – we stopped for lunch at Whataburger. It’s a tradition that goes back to the days of the Alamo and Davy Crockett I think. A Family thing, you know.

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I Am In The Upright And Locked Position

HERE WE GO AGAIN. We are barely home from our trip to Georgia and we are packing up for a visit with the family in Texas.

By the time this moves to the head of the queue we will probably be back in Terre Haute (That’s French for “We left the TV on.”). Such is the miracle of scheduling the posting of blog entries ahead of time.

There is a time difference to deal with when we go to Texas – it will be 1 PM in Indiana, but it will be High Noon in the Furnaces of Hell in South Texas. It gets HOT there in July. I like things on the warm side, but when we go to Texas in July I don’t feel like I’m sweating. It’s more like I’m being basted.

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It’s Not About Cats

MEMORIES? WHERE DO THEY GO TO HIDE? Why do they pop back into your conscious mind after a lifetime stored in the folds and wrinkles of your brain?

I had such a memory bob back to the surface the other day and, when it did, all of the details were as fresh as if it had just happened yesterday.

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Thank God Texas Has A Lot Of Room

TAKE ME TO THE BUTTER CHURN is a cry I hear on a regular basis when we go south to visit family. “The Butter Churn” is a restaurant/feeding station aka buffet just a waddle or two away from the family home in Sinton, Texas. And every time we visit, along with an assortment of several generations of nieces and nephews, we go to The Butter Churn.

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On The Road Again

WHILE THE CIRCUS IN WASHINGTON CONTINUES I find that there are smaller side shows going on that I find both interesting and entertaining.

Example: While we were down in Texas, visiting family and avoiding nasty northern weather there was a great story on the TV about two Congressional Representatives from The Lone Star State who felt the need to get back to Washington and actually do their jobs. The problem for them achieving this end was that the entire northeast, including D.C. was getting blasted by a late winter snowstorm and airports in the area were closed down.

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What, And Give Up Show Business?

WE ARE DOWN IN TEXAS FOR A SHORT VISIT. Not only is that a good thing in and of itself, but the weather is certainly better than up north – no snow and I’m actually going around clad in the season’s first outings for my Hawaiian shirts. I look like a tourist.

Another difference, whether we travel to Texas, Ireland, or wherever is local television. Local television outside of your major markets is where you can see careers beginning, careers flourishing, and careers ending – sometimes all within the span of a few days.

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Doctor! Doctor! Give Me the News!

doc2IT HAS BEEN THREE MONTHS SINCE I SAW MY DOCTOR. It seems like only six months.

After all of the usual thumping, poking, and listening he seemed to be relatively pleased, almost surprised it seemed to me, that I was still alive and kicking. I admit that I don’t kick as well as I used to, but I have the “alive” part down cold.

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Six Kolaches Over Texas

kol1SOME THINGS ARE WORTH EATING.

Other things are not.

A nicely done “medium-rare” steak – Yes. A “well-done” steak – No.

 Fried Chicken – Yes. KFC – No.

Airline Cookies, Cheap Mexican Food, and Beets – No, No, and No.

Kolaches – YES!

Kolaches? Wazzat?

Sit and learn, my child.

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I Intend To Rock Their World

front-deskTHINGS WERE GOING SMOOTHLY… TOO SMOOTHLY.

All we wanted to do was get on the airplane to Texas and do the whole Christmas thing. Perhaps we were asking for too much. To put it in just a few words – “Anything that could go wrong did go wrong.”

We had a scheduled flight to take us from Indianapolis to Houston. Our liftoff time was 7:45 AM. Rather than get up at 2 in the morning to pack the car and drive to Indy we did our usual thing. We went up the afternoon before, and checked in at a hotel near the airport. That way we could get a good night’s sleep, leave the car at the hotel, and take the hotel shuttle to the nearby airport. We have done this a dozen times without any problems.

Our shuttle was set for 6 AM.

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Cleared For Takeoff

texas1WE ARE FAST CLOSING IN ON CHRISTMAS and shortly we will be winging our way down to Texas. Airports in December – Such fun.

Experience has taught us that the best day to fly during the Holiday Season is on Christmas Day. The airports are not nearly as crowded. You can get a seat in any airport restaurant without waiting or having ten thousand other travelers (and their carry-on baggage) crammed in next to you. On the plane things are not as crowded either. We can stretch out a bit and the Flight Crew is generally in a better mood.

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Four Days In November

bf1NOVEMBER 22nd. To most people under the age of 60 this is just another day on the calendar. Another day lost in the buildup to Thanksgiving. To those of us over 60 this date is, and always will be November 22, 1963, a Friday – the day the President was killed.

I was a senior in high school.

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Knock, Knock. Who’s There?

highway-sign-jpg-1WE ARE GOING TO BE TAKING A TRIP DOWN TO TEXAS the day after tomorrow. A surprise visit. A complete surprise. Nobody in Texas knows that we are coming.

Surprise visits may be a cute idea, but I’m not so sure that it is so cute to pull a surprise like this on Dawn’s 95 year old Mother.

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But, That’s Just Me.

wedding5“WE’RE HAVING A HEAT WAVE – A TROPICAL HEAT WAVE.”

It’s not often that one can quote Marilyn Monroe.

We have been having a real, honest to God, hot spell here in Terre Haute (That’s French for, “I’m stuck to the leather sofa.”)

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I’m Only Here For The Cake

wedding1I WENT TO A WEDDING LAST SATURDAY. A lovely couple, a lovely setting, and everyone wondering who in the hell I was and what I was doing there. The answer to that question was that I was the Rev. Dawn’s Roadie, Security, Driver, and – oh, yeah – her husband.

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Throwback Thursday from July 2015

Throwback Thursday 2

Next Time I Gnaw My Leg Off

camdenfoodWHENEVER WE FLY TO TEXAS we have to go through either Houston or Dallas. Given the choice we’d rather deal with the airport in Houston – mainly because Dallas is the complete and utter Ground Zero for ineptitude, confusion and “No Way To Run A Railroad.”

That doesn’t mean that everything in Houston is sweetness and light. It is just like most other major airports: a mess.

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What Could Possibly Go Wrong?

4th7A LITTLE DRIZZLE NEVER HURT ANYBODY. This year on the 4th of July, the day for fireworks and celebration, we had low clouds and misty rain here in Terre Haute (That’s French for, “Has anybody seen my thumb?”).

The larger civic displays were postponed a day or more, hoping for clear skies. The rain, however, didn’t slow down the individual, beer-fueled, ad hoc, displays.

It seems that every year, rain or shine, there are countless people who think that they are qualified to fire off skyrockets and assorted quasi-military grade explosives in their backyards. The more alcohol consumed – the bigger the show.

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It’s Called Summer

storm1WE’VE HAD SOME REAL THUNDERBUMPERS here in the last day or so. Cloudbanks clinging to the edges of cold or warm fronts (I forget which is which.) were scuttering across the sky – all looking like The Mothership was hiding within them, just waiting for the signal to launch their swarm of invaders.

It is early Summer in the Midwest. The thermometer reads in the high 80s and even into the low 90s. It feels almost tropical. The high humidity makes sweating a fulltime activity. My deodorant was getting a real challenge on days like that.

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A Tasty Dream

ASHE HAD A GREAT IDEA LAST NIGHT.

We were having dinner, polishing off some leftover roast as “Pork Manhattan.”

For the first fifteen minutes there was complete silence as we stuffed our faces – then my wife, the lovely and entrepreneurially minded, Dawn, unleashed a thunderbolt of an idea.

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The Benefits Of Travel

1I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN A GYPSY AT HEART. All the clichés are true when it comes to me. “The lure of the open road,” “The grass is always greener…yada, yada, yada,” “On the Road Again.” There must be a hundred or more that call out about the sound of the train whistle in the night and the hum of the tires on the pavement. A gypsy, a nomad, and wanderer, even terms that carry a negative aura – hobo and drifter. All of them pick at the deep seated strings of my being

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