Texas Notes

So I promised a discussion of my trip to Houston. My illness has got in the way. I was going to do this in a series of posts but that clearly is not going to happen. So I will just throw them all together here in a series of short notes. I am also going to include something about a trip to El Paso I took in October.

I think all of this goes under the general heading, "Texas, One Weird Fucking Place." Actually, before we get to Texas, I need to give all of my readers some very important advice. Never eat in Carlsbad, New Mexico. I have had 2 meals there in my life. I have regretted both very much. The first was in the town's nice restaurant. I ordered the pasta with the marinara sauce, as opposed to the other option, the meat sauce. As a vegetarian, the choice was obvious. Except that in Carlsbad, the marinara sauce still has meat in it. On this trip, I stayed the night in lovely Artesia, New Mexico. That night I watched Iron Chef America where I saw a battle over some kind of weird Australian fish. Maybe my hopes were too high. But I stopped in some Carlsbad greasy spoon for breakfast. I ordered the cheese omelet. What came was some eggs topped in about a pound of greasey cheesefood. The oil from the cheese coming apart was just laying on top. I ate it, but it was hard going. That I got a kidney stone 2 days later is not surprising. I knew my body would get its revenge against me for that meal.

Also in New Mexico, this time just outside of Loving, in the southeastern corner of the state, just before the Texas line, I saw one of the West's more interesing idiosyncracies--a cowboy church. I can't remember the title but it had a picture of a bucking bronco buster on it. I have heard about these but have never seen one. I guess fundamentalist Christianity is real big among the cowboy population of the world. I believe it too. I would need to believe in some kind of better afterlife if I had that horrible job.

From there I headed down toward the Mexican border. I hit Del Rio, Texas, just over the border from Ciudad Acuna, about 3 pm. I was hungry. I didn't eat lunch because I thought I could find some kind of super-tasty Mexican food right over the border in Del Rio. In El Paso, there is a long strip just before you cross the bridge. I was hoping for something like that. Couldn't find anything. Obviously, it's there but I didn't find it. And I was super hungry by 3. So instead I just hopped into the Thai restaurant across the street for some pad thai. God I love the postmodern world.

I headed east from Del Rio toward San Antonio. I was lucky enough to pass through Uvalde. Now you are asking, what is in Uvalde, Texas? Why, it is the hometown of one John Nance Garner, Franklin Delano Roosevelt's first vice-president. When I saw the sign for his grave, I dangerously pulled across 2 lanes of traffic to screech into the cemetary. Garner evidentally regretted his acceptance of the VP slot. Roosevelt was notorious for ignoring his vice-presidents. Harry Truman didn't even know of the existence of the atomic bomb when he took over in April 1945. Garner commented that the office was "not worth a bucket of warm piss." I was really hoping this would be on his gravestone. Alas, I was devastated not to find it there.

From Uvalde, I passed through Seguin. What is in Seguin? Texas Lutheran University. Alma mater of Verne Lundquist. Texas is not known for its self-loathing. When you think of Texas, images of people lacking confidence in the world, hating life, and showing few emotions is not really what most of us think of. But every place must have a center of self-hatred, and for Texas, it is clearly the campus of TLU in Seguin.

Finally, I reached San Antonio. I decide to stop by the Alamo. Never been there. Don't really care. But I figured I should see. As soon as I saw it, I was proud. What a great sight. A landmark where the Mexican army slaughtered a bunch of redneck Texas slaveowners revolting against laws forbidding slavery in Mexico. Wish they would have killed every last white Texan. Damn, I'm proud of you Mexico.

I was even prouder when a group of Mexican-Americans decided to get a ton of pictures taken of themselves right in front of the Alamo flashing their gang signs. This was possibly the best travel moment of my life. A giant "Fuck You Whitey Texan" to all of you crackers. Talk about claiming the meaning of a historical site for yourself. Awesome. And there were some irritated whites, let me tell you.

Then I turn around and see a school bus from a town outside of San Antonio. That town--Hereford. The mascot. The Whitefaces. Yes, that's right. They are the Hereford Whitefaces. Now I know that Hereford cattle have white faces. But somehow, and call me crazy, I'm thinking that the Whitefaces has a meaning not related to cows. I know it's the South and all, and it's impossible to imagine such double meanings on the issue of race, but could it be that Hereford was claiming whiteness for the town? Nah....I must have spent too much time in the academy.

God, I love Texas.

I was hoping to make it to Jasper, where those two rednecks lynched that black guy 10 or so years ago by dragging him behind a truck. Unfortunately, the kidney stones intervened. Oh well.
All of this made me remember my trip to El Paso in October. I had a little time to kill so I drove through the Lower Valley, which is a traditional Hispanic neighborhood of El Paso. I come to a stoplight. It is named Avenida Rafael Septien. Rafael Septien was the kicker for the Cowboys in the 1980s. Only in Texas would a street be named for a kicker. I wonder if that is the only street in the nation named for a kicker. Great stuff.

I'm not sure if Texas is the best or worst place in the country for me to live. There is nowhere else that I would laugh at people as much. On the other hand, it might permanently poison me. What a place!