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I’ve been so engaged in all the craziness of trying to re-establish a life in New Mexico, that I nearly forgot part of our trip down. That would be Texas.
Now, I visited that state a whole bunch of years ago, and lived to tell the story, so I figured we could handle a quick pass through on our way to New Mexico. US54 passes through the panhandle of the state.
Upon entering, you learn right away that you are in the land of the longhorn. You are assailed again and again with TEXAS, TEXAS, TEXAS plastered on nearly everything. I mean every mile marker has the outline of the state emblazoned upon it, and well, just about everything else. I would guess that half of the business establishments with the state manage to some how squeeze in Texas as part of their name.
I don’t see this so much as an issue of pride as I do as an issue of helping the mentally disabled to know where there are. As long as you see the outline of Texas, you know you haven’t slithered forth into foreign territory.
We found ourselves hungry at around the lunch hour as we passed through the flat terrain of North West Texas. I had learned my map reading by then, knowing that town names that were in bold were usually large enough to support an eating establishment. True to form, Dalhart had indeed more than one food troughs, so we decided, since we were just passing through, that we owed it to ourselves to sample what Texas is famous for–beef!
The steakhouse we chose was lodged comfortably along the interstate, so we pulled in. We we immediately advised that if we had any firearms, we should not enter unless we were carrying legally. This would be akin to reminding entering patrons not to commit any crimes while inside. Well, that is Texas isn’t it? Restating the obvious.
The steak was a rib eye, and unremarkable. That in medical terminology means that it was not outside the norm in any notable way. Which means it was way overpriced for just being an average steak that I could cook at home for way less. But of course, I had the added comfort of being reminded regularly that I was in Texas–the walls had the outline of the state lines round about the dining area.
Ten gallon headpieces are de rigueur in Texas as well, it seems. At least for gentlemen, who also seem to prefer large silver belt buckles over standard fare. And of course, no costume would be complete without pointy shoes that appear to have been cut from reptilian creatures.
Our stay was short, and so of course, I cast no actual aspersions upon the fine people of Texas, except for that horse’s ass of a governor, the other Ricky.
UPDATE: Our money is in the bank here, the POD has been picked up and will shortly be on its way to El Paso and we are placing an offer on a house today. It’s not the house of my dreams. It’s a big part of my dreams, but doesn’t have everything I wanted. We have every expectation that our offer (which will take 2 weeks to confirm–the seller being out of country) will be accepted based on negotiations yesterday.
TIP: offer houses in parts, so that I can pick the kitchen I want, the view I want, the flooring I want, the appliances I want, the landscaping I want, etcetera, and create the perfect house. This should be easy enough? I found my perfect house, the problem was it existed in four separate ones. So we picked the best of course.
Life is gooder than it was. But the Contrarian and I are starting to feel like cell-mates in our one-room motel room. We figure three weeks and we will be going to our new home. Hopefully. Pray. Pray. Pray. lol
Existential Ennui 