The trip to Texas was totally tubular, to talk in 80′s alliteration. Not that I want to associate with that era any more than I have to, though I have to admit an affinity for some of the music of the day, including Huey Lewis and the News who, besides sharing my last name (not the other way around, thank you), happen to have originated some of the seminal songs that defined me as a person more than fourteen years after they hit their stride. “Hip to Be Square” is an obvious choice, my own rectangular proclivities having long been known by eager bullies in my school. However, I like to think of “Power of Love” as an ode to my own failures as a Man of Mystery, knowing that forever I’m “Stuck With [Me]“.
Texas was much hotter than Los Angeles, which reminded me of my vow not to allow myself to become so inculcated by the balmy environment here that I would lose all sense of perspective when staying in other climes. It was not overly difficult to stay committed to that vow, though I confess that, after a long day working on a small yard project with my older brother, I was quite happy to spend the remaining hours inside, enjoying the view of dusty brown grass from the comfort of a padded seat whilst surrounded by insulated air conditioned goodness.
The visit was punctuated with several notable doings, including attending a Texas Rangers baseball game. Despite my lack of interest in baseball (AKA boringball), I enjoyed the show and the free hat that was given to the first 20,000 fans. I didn’t have to prove I was a fan, though I would gladly have done so, including oscillatory motion back and forth with a firm and steady whirring, if they had required it. Starbucks coffee was $5.00 a pop, regardless of drink ordered, and in typical worshipful fashion, I gave the priest of the Temple of the Coffee Mermaid $10 for two frappucinos. We also spent time at the residential swimming hole, which is outfitted with two water slides and plenty of seating. I’m now convinced that any brothers would be fully satisfied doing nothing but competing with each other in splash contests covering length, height, and distance, in perpetuity. In fact, heaven may just be an eternally open community pool. We weren’t too sure the fifteen year old female lifeguards could come close to saving any of us, were we placed in a drowning scenario, but when it came to a trade-off between safety and cute jailbait in bikinis, it’s obvious pool management went with the latter.
I learned how to play Dominoes, which is something I’ve meant to learn for about fifteen years, ever since I received a set of nicely lathed black and whites back when I was ten. It’s not unlike poker, which combines a luck of the draw scenario with skills and strategems that rely on your ability to count, which puts me into the same running as Harpo Marx. I can honk a clown horn like a champ, but my numerical combination abilities aren’t so hot. But like poker, chance does play into Dominoes, and statistically speaking, you’re bound to get decent bones once in a while, and when you get them, it’s not difficult to win.
Visiting my brother also has its liquid libation benefits. He brews his own beer, and he had a fine stock of Strawberry Wheat that was quite a pleasant antidote to the heat. Coupled with bottled Guinness, some K Cider, and A&W Cream Soda, I am happy to report I was never in need. I even managed to get in a cigar smoke with my older brother, along with some scotch. Citizen Satisfied! Of course, all that is secondary to the best part, which was spending time with the family. You know it’s a successful visit when voices are raised at a particularly high-strung game of Spades.
We got to see X-Men 3 on Sunday, so I’ll post a review tomorrow. See you tomorrow.